keepmetogether

[keepmetogether]

soooooo monster skz 👀 werewolf chan??? siren felix?? vampire seungmin 👁️👁️ kyuubi jeongin! incubus hyunjin :000 orc or half orc changbin. jisung as some kind of hybrid (cat? dragon? bunny? who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Do with this information what you will ✨

monster!skz drabbles i can’t stop thinking about

sweet anon… you opened the floodgates that is my monsterfucker brain. i hope you enjoy my devolve into madness >.< this is a long ass post sorry (not sorry at all btw)

pairing; skz x reader (minho is posted here!)

tw; monsterfucking, fem reader, NSFW!, pet names, unprotected sex (be smart), manhandling, blood drinking, oral (f and m receiving), blood and guts, semi public scene, vague manipulation, abo dynamics, ropes, claws fangs scales and fur (*blushes*), some degradation, biting, branding, temperature play (?), poor y/n is about to be exhausted

bang chan;

it’s late when you first meet him. you’re walking home from a night out, hands pulling your skirt down on the dimly lit street. the full moon gives an eery glow to the otherwise dark, lonely concrete path.

and yes, you know it’s stupid to walk home alone. you know you’re a little tipsy and should have called an uber, but alas, you thought the ten minute walk could clear your head. you had a fight with a friend and felt too heated to get into the stiff air of someone else’s car- so, the chilly night air seemed like a better alternative.

this alternative, however, also included a giant fucking wolf in the tree bank. you still completely when you see it, eyes glinting off the moon light, hunkered down like it waits for prey. your heart drops to your ass, surely, you’re dead. surely, you’re about to be on the morning news, torn to shreds and beyond the point of identification.

the wolf watches you from a distance. when you scoot closer to the corner, ready to make a run for it, the wolf suddenly snaps its head in the direction of the woods. you inhale- it runs off, darting back into the thick greenery.

you run.

the next day you feel like you’re caught in a haze, glowing eyes meeting you every time you close your own. so you think, maybe you need a pick me up. maybe you need a coffee.

the coffee shop is a nice, day-lit walk. the overcast sky and gentle air remind you that you are alive and well- not torn to shreds. not a late night snack for a giant beast. as you’re walking, a body brushes yours. when you turn, a man is staring back at you.

“oh! my bad,” the man says, voice smooth, grin splitting his face and dimpling his cheeks. you feel your heart skip a beat in your chest as he looks over your body. he seems to catch himself, clearing his throat and sticking out a large, scratched hand. his knuckles are bruised. “i didn’t mean to startle you. i’m chan.”

you don’t remember giving him your name, but you love the way it rolls off his tongue. it sounds like a sigh, an exhale, he says your name like you’ve met before. old friends, even.

chan starts popping up more and more, he becomes your best friend. loyal, strong, muscular- fucking hot- he’s the whole package. he’s the type of friend that makes it easy to blur the lines, makes it easy to see how far you can push before he pulls away. but he never does. he pushes back, closes in on you every single time.

chan is acting weird. it’s been about a month since you met, since he became so important to you, and today feels… off. you try to ask him to hang out, but he brushed you off, saying he wasn’t feeling well. instead of taking his word for it, you decide to check up on him.

you’re not crazy. if you didn’t have such a horrible pit in your stomach, such a terrible feeling, you wouldn’t bother him. but it’s nearing midnight and you can’t sleep- restless at the thought of something bad happening. so, you go to his place. you take the spare key from the potted plant next to his door, and you walk in.

chan is on his couch. chan is panting, noticeably sweating, hair mussed from constant tugging. he’s barely wearing any clothes- only boxers- and you pause as you look at him.

chan is alert, snapping his head toward you in a way that’s almost too fast. he stands on wobbly knees, frantically looking towards the night sky through his open window before looking back to you. his eyes are glowing.

“y/n,” chan pants out, brows furrowed. “fuck- go home. now!”

you aren’t quite sure what happens next. one minute, you’re standing in the entryway of chan’s apartment, watching in horror as his body starts to contort in ways that cannot possibly be real. the next minute, you’re slammed into the carpet, claws digging into the floorboard by your head and a snarling set of canine teeth way too close to your neck.

chan- at least, you think it’s chan- is above you. he is growling, sharp and animalistic. between low noises you hear a single word, filled with the need to claim, to mark you. mine.

you would have to be massively fucked up to find this hot- your pussy clenches at the sight of him, though. not quite wolf, not quite human, and you gasp loudly as claws rip through your shirt. fuck, maybe you are massively fucked up.

“you shouldn’t have came here,” chan growls, voice ripping from his throat. “stupid puppy, need your alpha to teach you some respect, hm?” you whimper. chan absolutely demolishes your clothing.

you’re soaked, probably need to pay to get the carpet cleaned, but chan doesn’t seem to mind. he growls, sniffing at your neck right where it meets your shoulder. you feel his cock- large, pulsing, hot- against your thigh and a moan passes through your lips. chan can’t help but rut into your thigh, now nipping at the skin of your neck.

“spread your legs, darling. good girls take their alpha without whining, yeah?” chan grumbles, voice a low timbre next to your ear. you shiver violently, legs spreading open as he lines up with your entrance. no prep, no lube, just your soaked cunt and his precum covered cock to ease the way.

you scream when he thrusts in, you can’t help it. it’s rough, the stretch making your vision blurry. it’s so good. you feel like you’re being split in half, marked and claimed entirely by him. you are chan’s, and in return, he is yours.

“my sweet puppy,” chan moans, rutting into you frantically. his clawed fingers grip your hips hard, sure to draw blood. you hope they leave angry red scratches. you hope your blood stays under his nails forever. you beg, a string of please please please chan please leaving your lips, although you aren’t even sure why. all you know is that your stomach is tightening, hands balling up into fists, and chan’s sharp canines are grazing the fragile skin of your neck.

“gonna mate you- fuck, y/n-“ chan is panting now, teeth grinding together like he wants nothing more than to sink them into you. you want him to so bad, you bare your neck for him. “shit. gonna fill you so full, you’re gonna take my knot-“

chan’s teeth sink into your neck. you moan loudly, the noise ripping from your throat like an animal of its own, and you cum- hard. then chan is cumming too, pumping his load into you and thrusting in to the hilt, a large bump at the base of his cock wedging inside of you and staying there. his knot, probably.

you spend an uncertain amount of time- maybe minutes, maybe hours- on the ground, panting and allowing chan to lick your neck clean. he’s practically purring, hands no longer clawed as they run through your hair. finally, he is able to pull out. you whine, earning a sweet hushing sound from the man as he carries you to lay down. a gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead. you fall asleep laying in your mate’s arms.

changbin;

the last thing you expected when you heard a loud bang on your front door was this.

a man stands towering over you. huge- well over seven feet tall, muscles the size of your head, and the expression of someone that would easily murder you without blinking twice. holy fucking shit, you’re dead.

when he bullies his way into your apartment, opening the pantry door and killing a fucking demon right in front of your eyes, you’re surprised to say the least. a demon was messing with your pancake mix and shit.

the man- the orc, rather, tells you his name is changbin. he’s grumpy- a little pissy all the time. you tell him you’re fine, but he insists on staying around a little longer to ensure your safety. humans are too dumb and fragile to be safe on their own, he grunts. he wants to make sure the threat is eliminated.

he stays with you for months. not only in your home, but physically with you. all the time. honestly, you assumed this would annoy you. you consider yourself to be pretty independent, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t like having scary guard dog privileges.

changbin is bigger than any human man you could ever meet. no one approaches you, no one tries to pick you up when you’re having fun with your friends. changbin is always there, like a statue next to you, ready to fight (and kill) anyone who looks at you wrong. it’s oddly peaceful. you feel safe.

the thing is, changbin does not make empty threats. he told you he would keep you safe, and he has proven that he will. the demon in your pantry was the first instance; the sleazy man in denim staring you down from across the room will be the second.

sometimes, men have no survival skills. you can tell this is one of those times as the man wobbles on his feet, stalking towards you and flopping down into the chair to your right.

immediately, you say you’re not interested. why would you be when you’ve been fucking yourself to the thought of your hot orc bodyguard every night? but the man doesn’t take no for an answer. his hand moves to touch your bare thigh.

it never makes contact. instead, there’s a sickening crack as the man falls from his seat with a loud cry, holding his wrist. you didn’t even see changbin move, but suddenly he’s towering over the figure and raising his fist in the air.

you dart out of your seat, tugging at changbin’s snug shirt and whining about wanting to go home. obviously, murder would be a hard crime to plea innocent for- especially when half the bar is staring in your direction. changbin is still for moments, then he huffs loudly. grumbling, he circles your wrist with two large fingers and drags you towards the exit of the bar.

you can tell he’s pissed. and really, he doesn’t give you a chance to ask him about it. as soon as the door to your apartment is locked, he’s throwing you over his shoulder and taking large strides towards your bedroom. you punch and kick at him, telling him to let you down, but it’s wasted energy. he throws you onto the bed without breaking a sweat.

“ridiculous,” he scoffs, arms crossed and visibly fuming. “can’t even go out of the house without having useless humans beg for your attention.”

then, he’s closer. caging your thighs in between muscular legs and pinning your wrists at your head. “but i don’t have to beg, right y/n?” he asks, voice still tinged with anger. “no, i don’t. you will, though.”

your clothes are ripped away in seconds, the cotton fabric feeling so flimsy under his strong hands. changbin undresses next, leaving you panting and your eyes bulging at the sight of his massive cock. it’s almost as big as your forearm. you’re about to be ripped apart, just like your clothes.

“don’t worry, fragile little thing,” changbin huffs. “i’ll get you nice and wet. ready to take what i give you.”

and he does. changbin’s tongue, large and dripping with his spit, licks a stripe through your already wet pussy. he moans at the taste, sound vibrating your sensitive clit as he moves his tongue and lips. your hands thread in his hair, legs spread wide open around his strong, solid shoulders.

changbin’s tongue fucks into you deeper than anyone has ever been, your own fingers couldn’t even do it justice. he prods at your bundle of nerves, with each press of his tongue fire zips up your spine. he can tell when you get close- legs trying to squeeze around his head but unable to move much- and he… stops.

you whine and cry for more, begging for the release you could practically taste, but changbin doesn’t respond to your cries. instead, one solid arm flips you over in a single movement; you’re on your stomach now, large hands wrapping around your hips and pulling you to your hands and knees.

“have to make sure stupid assholes know who you belong to,” he grunts, hands tightening on your hips. you’ll have finger shaped bruises on your lower stomach tomorrow. the dimples of your back with be marked with purple kisses. the thought brings you that much closer to desperation.

when changbin lines his cock up with your greedy hole, you clench in anticipation. he grumbles in annoyance under his breath, large thumbs spreads your cunt open to make way for his length. then, he slides home.

your eyes roll back when you feel his hips press against your ass, head falling to hang between your arms. his hand stretches over your stomach- palming himself from within your body. fuck.

changbin starts thrusting, hips smacking into your ass and turning it bright red. you hold onto the headboard, hoping it doesn’t break- the bed is creaking. mattresses are expensive. each and every thrust inside you leaves you dripping, and if you were capable of forming any thoughts you would be embarrassed of the wet sounds coming from the place where the two of you are connected.

changbin shifts, long fingers coming to press against your clit and move in tight, fast circles. then he’s groaning, forehead resting between your shoulder blades as he moans, “fuck, you feel like heaven- cum for me, pretty girl. wanna feel you squeeze my cock-”

and then you cum. harder and more earth-shattering than you ever have in your life.

you get impossibly tighter around his length, pussy throbbing with every wave of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. changbin isn’t far behind you, pounding into your heat once more before burying himself deep inside you and cumming, stuffing you full.

when you come back down from the clouds, changbin is wiping your body with a warm washcloth. you blink sleepily at him, smiling in your dazed state at the feeling of his gentle movements, as if afraid to hurt you now. when he is done, he climbs into bed beside you. large, strong arms wrap around you like a blanket, a kiss lands in your hair. as you’re dozing off, he mumbles out a last breath into the night air- a promise.

“i’ll always keep you safe, baby. you can count on me.”

hyunjin;

really, you’ve had plenty of stupid ideas in your life. this one might take the cake.

summoning a demon with the intention of trapping it, with the intention of tricking it into hunting someone down for you, is a bad idea. you know that. when your best friend had proposed the idea, handing you an incantation that predated modern latin, you had told him exactly how bad you thought the idea was. but here you are- black candles lit in a circle of salt, a bowl of your own blood resting in the middle.

granted, you probably should have learned old latin pronunciation. or maybe even like, new latin. really, any form of latin. but you didn’t, because the idea was already bad. how could it get worse?

in the end, the incantation didn’t even work. the candles burnt out, your blood remained cold in the ceramic bowl, and you were left with nothing but vague frustration as you cleaned your kitchen floor of the mess.

you lay down for the night shortly after, snuggling under your blankets and feeling the softness of them against your smooth, bare legs. with a sigh, you sleep.

then you wake up- sweating, heart racing, bolting upright to dart your eyes around your room.

you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. you feel the urge to bolt from your bed, run out the door and keep running. someone- something- is watching you. you can’t explain how you know, you just know.

then, you see it. from the corner of your dark room, there is a figure crouched in your floor. you sharply inhale when crimson eyes meet your own, the shadow tilting it’s head in observance. slowly, the figure stands.

as it comes into the abysmal light from your window, you can start to make out certain features. elegant legs taking graceful steps, slim fingers attached to large, veiny hands. long, black hair cascades over broad shoulders, and those eyes- blood red, glinting with mischief in the sliver of light.

it’s a man, you think. a shockingly beatiful man. you feel the bed dip as hands press down on the mattress, the figure slowly crawling up until he is caging you in from all sides.

a low hum rumbles in his chest, then, “it has been centuries since i have been called upon, millenniums since the being was so… mouthwatering.”

the man leans in close, stealing the breath from your lungs as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “so tell me, y/n. why did you call?”

oh, so he knows your name. fantastic.

“i… i need to kill a man.” you mutter, doe eyes batting upwards in nervousness. you were much more confident when you went over your script in the bathroom mirror. the man laughs breathily, shifting his weight to trail fingertips down your neck, collarbone, and downward. the fingers stop at your cleavage- right where your tank top starts.

“you called me for a murder? darling, i never get my hands dirty. i prefer to feed on those who are more than willing.”

shit. you really should have learned how to pronounce that incantation.

you gulp audibly, hand shaking as it moves to the demon’s chest. your intent had been to push him off of you, but now that your hand has made contact with chilled skin and strong muscle, you can’t find it in yourself to drag it away.

“do not lie to yourself, doll. why did your heart call to me?” the demon mutters, his hand enveloping your own on his bare chest. he moves your hand down, down further, until it rests at the silk fabric above his groin. your fingers curl into it without thinking.

“maybe-“ your voice cracks, so you try again. to your humiliation, the demon grins. “maybe i wanted… to forget?”

now, the fingertips at your cleavage move further, dragging your top down and off your shoulders- off your body all together. you fight the urge to whine as cool air hardens your pert nipples, the demon locking eyes with you as your shirt leaves your body. his grin widens, dark and warning. your heart accelerates against your ribcage.

“that, i can do. it is what i was made for, after all.”

the demon wastes no time revealing your body, strong hands leaving chills in their wake each time he removes more clothing. next, the silk around his hips unfolds, revealing the biggest, prettiest cock you have ever laid eyes on. and you have never thought a dick to be pretty in your life.

your mouth is watering- the demon coos at you like he knows. his hand wanders into your hair, petting the strands before gripping you tightly and moving forward so that his length is just out of your reach. with glassy eyes and a breathless sigh, you open your mouth for him. and he takes full advantage.

his cock is heavy on your tongue, throbbing when you whine around him and close your lips to suck at the tip. he pushes further in, continuing to use your hair as a guide to push and pull your mouth on his length. he groans, low and deep, when you feel him hit the back of your throat and you swallow.

“good, darling. worship me,” he hums. and you do.

drool leaks from your lips, down your chin, as the demon uses your mouth to his content. when you move a hand up to stroke him, he gently slaps it away with a hush. with one final tug of your hair, he leaves you panting, mouth open, and tears falling from your eyes. you aren’t sure if you are thankful for a breath of air- you want to choke by his hands.

“stop whining, doll. i will give you what you desire most,” he grins, sharp teeth glimmering in the darkness of the room. his eyes are brighter somehow, red pools of blood swirling in otherwise black irises. your legs spread wider, bracketing his sharp hip bones as his length presses to your entrance, running his cock head through your soaked folds and watching you clench around nothing in desperation.

when he presses in, it’s slow. deliberate. like he wants to make sure a space is carved out for every inch. when he is buried to the hilt, hips pressed flush to yours, he lets his head fall back with a sigh- as if embracing a lost lover. he pulls out just as slow, you feel him pulse as just the tip of his cock rests inside your wet, messy hole.

then, his hips snap.

the pace he sets is immediate- bruising, deep, pulling your thighs so that your legs are around his broad shoulders, ass lifted off the bed. his hands grip your hips like he will never let go, the promises of bruises seared into his touch. and you scream, hands reaching for his arms and clawing at his skin, sure to draw blood. instead of a complaint, the only thing to fall from his lips is a long, animalistic groan.

it’s all so much- so many sensations pulling you in so deep you feel like you’re suffocating. one of his hands moves to your nipple, plucking and pinching meanly just to feel the way you clench around him.

the demon can tell when you’re close, it only makes him double his efforts. his claws prickle your hip where they draw blood, he pants and moans loudly when he licks his fingers clean.

“fuck- darling, you taste so good. show me how you feel when you fall apart, when i take what is mine.”

with those words, you’re completely swallowed in pleasure. as you cum, moaning and sobbing and shaking, the demon moans too. his eyes roll back, snapping his hips once more before burying himself to the hilt inside your pulsing cunt and cumming- long, thick ropes covering your walls.

the demon shushes you gently as you cry with the aftershocks, turning you onto your side and slipping in behind you. you’re a mess; sweat covered skin, blood drying on your hip bones, cum leaking from your aching cunt. he doesn’t seem to care, just pushes your hair away from your face and mouths at the place where your neck meets your shoulder.

“you did amazing, doll. perfect for me,” you hear him hum into your back before your eyelids grow heavy.

you black out. you know you do, because when you wake it is to the sound of birds chirping and early morning light. you’re fully clothed, your pjs from the night before hanging off your body- wrinkled, but clean.

that was the hottest dream i have ever had, you think, stretching and groaning when your limbs pop after being still for so long.

you go to the bathroom groggily, still foggy brain barely wincing at the bright lights. when you look in the mirror, you pause.

the back of your shirt has a large, dark red stain. blood. it has to be.

your heart drops to your ass as you gently lift your shirt in the mirror, gritting your teeth as sensitive, aching flesh hits the cold air. then you gasp- wide eyes staring at your back in shock.

right between the dimples at the bottom of your spine, large and dark crimson from dried blood, lies one word. italicized cursive, a stamp on your body that will surely take forever to heal; a brand that will stay scarred long after the pain subsides.

hyunjin.

jisung;

in hindsight, you probably should have done a background check on your new roomie before he moved in.

but really, your intuition is so good! and han jisung did not seem like a murderer or stalker- he seemed like a very strange, very hot, loser.

and for fucks sake, that’s your type.

so he moved in shortly after responding to your craigslist ad, shortly after you met for coffee to get to know each other. and to be fair, things haven’t been bad. just… odd.

jisung might be a little weirder than you had initially thought. the man has a metric fuck ton of trinkets- and hey, you love trinkets! but he brought boxes full of things; little gold coins, gold statues of various animals and deities, ashtrays with golden flecks molded into them. you had initially joked that you were more of a silver girl, jisung had just wrinkled his nose and huffed at you. huffed.

not only does he have a hoarding issue, but jisung is also like, incredibly clothed. all the time.

here’s the thing: it’s the middle of fucking july. there is no reason for jisung to be wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, t shirt tucked in underneath. you sweat just looking at him. and he wears these weird ass contacts- all the time. bright blue eyes were jarring to see staring back at you in your kitchen at first, but whatever. you got used to it.

about a month after moving in, jisung started leaving you gifts. little crystals, flowers that he had definitely picked himself- they were never creepy, he always tried to play it cool, but the blush high on his cheeks made you hide smiles behind your hands. you knew he wanted you to like him, and it was working.

you’re a simple gal- when jisung comes home from one of his late night walks, silently placing a rock next to you (a geode, split open and glimmering delicately in the low light) it makes you swoon a little. when he knocks on your bedroom door and holds out a beautiful silk fabric, emerald green and expensive to the touch, mumbling something about how he had too many clothes and you deserve it, you melt. he’s just too damn cute.

the longer jisung shared your apartment, the more time the two of you spent together. suddenly, you couldn’t imagine your life without jisung. he’s your very best friend. he’s clingy in the same way you are, love language shown in his effort to spend quality time in your presence and give you pretty things. living with jisung comes easy, natural.

you have never seen jisung mad.

he’s a chill guy. a nice dude. he is frustratingly calm all the time, laughing off jabs directed towards him, grinning in amusement when you try to push his buttons. nothing gets under his skin, like ever. and it drives you crazy, because you want to get under his skin- just once. just to see what would happen.

jisung is very adamant about having time alone. part of the reason the two of you work so well living together is because he works from home and you work in an office, meaning he gets to be by himself from 9-5 every weekday. jisung also values honesty. he is incredibly loyal, never leaving your side whenever you’re at home or spending time around the city together, and he expects the same from you. he expects honesty, loyalty, and his alone time.

which is why you plan to break all three of these expectations at once. just to see what will happen.

you have another friend who you love dearly. he thinks you’re a little insane, suggesting your master plan to him, but he also lives for the drama. it isn’t hard to get him on board with your idea. it isn’t hard to call into work and say you’re sick. it is a little hard to look jisung in the eyes and tell him you’re leaving for work that morning- but you hope he will forgive you.

“it’s just a prank, relax,” you huff to your friend, walking down the hallway to your apartment door. he rolls his eyes, whining behind you.

“i literally don’t know this man, he could kill me!”

you laugh in response but say nothing more as you quietly step up to your front door. when you have slowly turned the key, unlocking it, you look back to your friend with raised brows. now or never.

he sighs, grimacing in annoyance before grabbing you by the waist and leaning into your neck. he whispers i hate your guts into your ear before you back into the door, opening it quickly.

you don’t see jisung immediately, but you know he sees you. you giggle and thread your fingers into your friends long hair, trying not to actually laugh at the feeling of his lips pecking your neck. there are no butterflies, no arousal pulls in your stomach, it feels almost clinical- but you pull out your best acting skills to moan softly.

you hear the tv show playing stop as jisung pauses the tv, cursing loudly. when you peak an eye open, pushing your friend away in fake shock, jisung is covering himself with a blanket. for a moment the room is silent. you stare at jisung with wide eyes, fighting a grin as he stares back at you, chest heaving from the unexpected entrance.

“shit, sungie- i didn’t realize you would be home,” you curse, faking an apologetic look and smoothing out your skirt. jisung blinks back at you, stare blank for a moment. then, his eyes turn to slits- head tilting as he looks between the two of you.

“y/n,” jisung states, calm. too calm. “could you tell the other thing to leave? we should chat.”

your friend has his hand on the door before jisung is even finished- coward. he mutters something about hoping your lay is worth his life, and as the door closes you lock it, biting your lip when you turn back around.

it’s too quiet. jisung has his legs crossed under the blanket, whole body covered by the fabric, but his eyes are still pinning you to your spot. when you open your mouth to speak, jisung holds up a hand to stop you.

“you know, y/n, i think this is really funny.” he says, looking entirely unamused. his tongue pokes into his cheek as he shifts under the blanket- uncomfortable in his seat. “it’s so funny that you just- what? conveniently forgot i work from home? forgot i am always here, every weekday? forgot i don’t like having uninvited- pests, in my home? touching my things?”

your mouth is dry. you can’t speak, can only squeeze your thighs together and try to squeak something out. “sungie, i-“

“no. there’s no need for that,” jisung cuts you off again. “you know what i think you’re doing?”

then, he stands. the blanket is left to fall on the ground, and you immediately notice three things.

one: jisung is wearing baggy shorts and a tank top. you have never seen this much honey skin- if your mouth was dry before, now it’s like cotton.

two: jisung is jacked. biceps protrude from his top, strong calves and thighs, huge pecs-

three: jisung… has fucking scales. honest to god scales- red and orange crawling up his arms, down his legs, and peaking out from under his tank top. you flush, suddenly feeling too sweaty in the cool air of the room.

jisung doesn’t stop until he is right in front of you, now looking down at you through thick, dark lashes. his eyes are even orange- bright, with cat-like pupils. that explains the contacts.

“i think, you knew i would be home.” he murmurs, tongue (forked fucking tongue) peaking out to lick his bottom lip. when your breath catches in your throat, he grins- too-sharp white teeth making your knees feel wobbly.

he doesn’t stop talking. “you know i’m always home, you know i don’t like people in my space, and you know i don’t fucking like lying. so you’re either really, really stupid, or you did this on purpose.” jisung leans in closer, eyes practically glowing as he huffs through his nose, agitated. his hand comes up to your neck, holding the side of your throat in his grasp- not applying pressure, just holding, as if to say i could hurt you if i wanted to.

“so y/n, which is it? are you just really fucking stupid?” then, he gives your throat a shake- jostling your head like a doll. “or was it on purpose?”

you’re silent. speechless. stunned and blinking dumbly at your roommate. you can see the vibrant scales on his arm from the corner of your eye, reminding you jisung isn’t fucking human- at least, not entirely. suddenly you feel like an animal, small and weak and trapped in the hunter’s lair.

your pussy throbs. holy shit.

jisung is waiting for you to speak, so you muster what little words you can remember through the fog in your brain. “you- you caught me, ji. it was on purpose.”

jisung’s tongue pokes into his cheek as he raises an eyebrow, head lifting condescendingly. “oh really? and what made you think you could get away with that?”

you flush, thighs squeezing tighter together. jisung notices this time, cat-like eyes flicking down to your legs before they’re back on yours. you clear your throat, his hand briefly squeezes before letting go to simply hold you again.

“maybe i didn’t think i could get away with it,” you whisper, batting long eyelashes up at him. “wanted to know how far i could push before you pushed back.”

that seems to be all it takes. jisung laughs once, nodding as if he had just made a decision in his head. then, you’re being shoved back into the wall- hand on your neck pinning you to the surface. his other hand moves to your top, pulling it down roughly and revealing your hard nipples to the air. you gasp at the sudden shift, but the sound is swallowed as jisung kisses you harshly.

all you can do is moan as jisung kisses you, meanly biting into your bottom lip until your mouth opens and his forked tongue meets yours. the hand not gripping your neck tugs on your thigh and you take the hint, wrapping your legs around his waist and leaning your weight into the wall behind you.

jisung breaks away from the kiss, lips traveling to your neck to bite and lick across the skin. then, his mouth is on the top of your breasts. “you wanna see me push back, baby?” he breathes into your skin, making eye contact with you briefly. “this is me pushing back.”

jisung’s mouth wraps around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. you moan breathlessly, head tilting back into the wall. jisung’s mouth is warm- but it gets warmer. it gets hot, tongue like liquid fire as he kisses across your chest to tease your other pert nipple.

“fuck- jisung, that-“ you gasp, moaning at the heat blooming into your skin. you feel him grin against you, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your chest before he raises up.

“you like that? like feeling that flame, baby?” jisung purrs, pupils dilated to near-circles. you whimper as he flips your skirt up around your waist, nodding quickly.

you do like it, the feeling of his molten tongue leaving a searing trail over your sensitive skin. in your half-delirious state you wish it would leave marks. then jisung moves his hand from your neck, rubbing his thumb up and down your soaked underwear and laughing to himself.

“shit, baby. already a mess and i’ve barely done anything, hm?” he coos, pressing harder against your clit through the thin fabric. you whine, trying to grind your hips into his hand. he takes pity on you, tsking once before finally pulling your panties to the side.

you sharply inhale when jisung’s finger enters you without warning- jisung inhales too, mocking you. the look you get when you raise your head to weakly glare at him makes you clench around his finger. not only is he enjoying this, but he knows you are too. jisung is always so nice, so gentle, but now? seeing him mean and biting, teasing you with dexterous hands and a mischievous glint in his eyes? you’re so turned on it hurts. you need him- bad.

but you know jisung. you can feel his hard cock pressing into the swell of your ass, you know he wants this just as bad as you do. he slides a second finger inside of you and you moan as he curls them, pressing insistently into that sweet bundle of nerves.

“fuck, y/n- you’re putting on such a good show,” jisung grins, fingers moving faster. “my hand is dripping, rockstar.”

you whine, long and drawn out, hands clenching on his shoulders. “god- close, jisung! please, please don’t-”

you feel his lips on your neck, heat licking up your spine as he growls into the skin. “cum, baby. cum all over my fingers.”

you fall apart just like that; your thighs shake, sensitive cunt tightening and pulsing around jisung’s fingers. then, you feel his fingers leave you as something way fucking bigger takes their place.

jisung thrusts his entire length into you in one swift motion that has you sobbing- hands clawing at his shoulders hard enough to break skin while you’re still pulsing from your orgasm. you feel his cock splitting you open, the stretch of it aching in a way that makes you feel dizzy. you’re still throbbing, pussy clenching around his length as you come down from your high, and he doesn’t even give you time to adjust before he’s adjusting his grip on your ass and shifting his hips.

“just like that, baby,” jisung pants, snapping his hips forward like he’s starved. “gripping me so tight, that little cunt is greedy, huh?”

all you can do is moan, tears falling from your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure. jisung uses his thumbs to spread your pussy, watching himself fuck in and out of you with a half-manic look in his eyes. he bites down hard on his bottom lip, starting to rub your oversensitive clit in tight little circles while nailing your g spot with every thrust- you might die like this. to your shock, you feel close again.

this time, you barely open your mouth before your orgasm is slamming into you, white-hot and licking up your spine like a fire. jisung groans loudly, forehead falling to your chest, hips moving quicker as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“just like that, rockstar. squeeze my cock- fuck,” he rambles, pistoning his length into you for a few more seconds before moaning and squeezing his eyes shut, mouth falling open as you feel his release coat your aching walls.

you’re still whimpering when jisung pulls you off the wall, shushing you gently as he carries you to his room. you register vague details, like the shiny trinkets littering his shelves and the heaps of soft, silky blankets you’re deposited onto. when jisung crawls into the bed behind you, spooning you under the warm, weighted blankets, you hear him purring.

“next time you want attention, just ask baby.” jisung huffs, rubbing your back tenderly. “i would be happy to give it to you.”

felix;

you have never really liked the ocean.

it’s creepy- being in water that is so vast, knowing you could be swallowed deep in a seconds notice, no one to hear your screams over the roaring waves- it’s scary. you’re much safer on dry land, where you can walk and breathe fresh air.

going on a cruise is genuinely the last thing you ever wanted to do. but your best friend bought the tickets for her birthday, and it would be decidedly shitty of you to say no. so you find yourself here- laying on the deck with your friends surrounding the pool, waves looking darker under the rising moon. the sun had set half an hour ago, and the lull of the waves crashing into the ship has rocked you into a sense of security. your eyes are half closed, breath coming softly.

“psst, y/n,” your best friend shakes you, making you look up sleepily. “i think we’re heading back in. coming?”

you nod, yawning and stretching. “in a second, my leg is asleep. i’ll catch up,” you chuckle, trying to rub the pins and needles out of your calf. you watch your friends head back inside, sighing and leaning back against the cheap plastic chair again.

you fell asleep- like a fool. you don’t know how much time has passed when you blink your eyes open, but the moon is hanging right above you in the sky. you shiver, the chilled night air causing goosebumps to appear on your bare arms and legs.

the thought of being alone, on the ship’s deck in the middle of the night, leaves an eery feeling in the pit of your stomach. you sit up quickly, trying to calm the anxiety in your throat, when you hear someone behind you clearing their throat softly.

your body jerks- head snapping towards the sound so fast your neck pops.

behind you stands a man. a gorgeous man. clear honey skin, long blond hair, full pouty lips. you blink at he waves and draws closer, trying to even out your rapid heart rate. when he sits down gently beside you, you feel much calmer. a deep breath leaves you.

“hello, beautiful. what’s got you out here so late?” a deep, soothing voice rumbles from the man’s chest. you feel your breath come easier, as if his voice is giving you oxygen.

“i fell asleep…” you mutter softly, raising an eyebrow as you take in his body- dripping wet, by the way. “what’s got you soaked?”

the man grins, sharp white teeth and freckled cheeks and crinkles by his eyes. the moon is above you, but you feel the warmth of the sun. you grin back at him, almost subconsciously.

“i just showered,” the man laughs. “can i have your name? i’m felix.”

“yeah, it’s y/n. you showered fully clothed, felix?” you ask, brow furrowed although you don’t feel as confused as you should be. the more felix talks to you, the more you sink into your chair. you could listen to him for the rest of your life.

felix flashes a dazzling grin again, but his eyes seem somehow sharper- like he knows something you don’t, like you just handed him a golden ticket. you barely blink when he shifts closer, shifting your legs into his lap so he can sit in the lounge chair with you. the closeness makes you feel dizzy; a warm, swooping feeling running down your spine.

“enough about me, love.” felix says calmly, thumb running back and forth on your bare thigh. “who left you out here all alone?”

your friends- you had forgot about them. “oh, my friends… i should head back to the room.” you pout, so comfortable where you are.

felix blinks at you like he feels sympathy. like you’re a toddler who doesn’t understand anything about the world around you. he tsks at you, lifting your chin with his index finger and thumb. holding eye contact when he whispers, “or… you could stay with me, right?”

right. you could do that- why didn’t you think of that? felix smiles softly at you, looking proud. it makes your cheeks flush and your stomach clench. felix’s eyes are glimmering, little silver specks of glitter wafting through pools of deep, dark ocean water. the thumb holding your chin moves to your bottom lip, opening your mouth gently. then, he’s leaning in.

his tongue slips into your mouth. immediately, you’re gone. you moan softly into his touch, letting his tongue flick behind your teeth and circle your own like he’s claiming you. his hand tightens on your thigh and before you can really comprehend it, he has flipped your positions so that you are straddling his waist.

“are you gonna fuck me, gorgeous? hmm?” felix hums, smiling when you nod rapidly. his shorts are pulled down, long cock heavy against your stomach as he pumps himself. “go ahead, love. show me how good you can be for me, yeah?”

you whimper, hips grinding against his length as the words wash over you. felix is holding your hip steady, taking his other hand away from himself to move your bathing suit bottoms to the side and reveal your wet cunt to the cold air. you gasp, rocking back and forth and getting more soaked at the feeling of felix’s hard cock between your folds.

you feel so good- too good. you could cum just like this, pussy dripping onto the length of his pretty cock. but felix has different plans, he taps your thigh lightly to get you to stop, lining his member up with your clenching hole, and pushes in.

you feel like you’re drowning- fully seated, feeling his tip kiss your cervix and rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. you whimper quietly, circling your hips to get used to the feeling. when felix’s hands tighten against your hips, you slowly start moving.

at this angle, his cock hits your most sensitive spots with every thrust. all you can do is bury your head into the side of his neck, moaning and bouncing on his length, fucking yourself like your life depends on it. you want to feel good, of course, but you want felix to feel better. the thought of giving him pleasure, making him cum, makes you more soaked with every thrust.

“look at me, angel,” felix says, the words rolling off his tongue like a song. he grips your hair firmly, using it to pull your head up.

you moan, the sound turning into a gasp when your eyes settle behind him before you meet his gaze. the boat- you’re still on the boat. you’re out in the open, being fucked within an inch of your life by the most beautiful man you have ever seen.

“what if someone sees us?” you whimper, eyebrows furrowing as you slow to a halt. felix laughs breathily, shifting you on his lap so he can bend his legs.

“let them see, i want everyone to know how good i fuck you.”

felix’s hips snap- his length moving in and out of your ruined cunt hard.

you scream.

you hope the sound is drowned out by the waves- the waves that have gotten rockier since the last time you can recall. beyond the sound of water crashing into the ship, all you can hear is felix, and felix doesn’t seem to care about the waves.

his hips continue to meet your ass, the pace so harsh it might bruise (you hope it does). you’re breathless, but felix is still talking.

“that feel good, baby? tell me, who do you belong to now? who’s pretty little pussy is this?” he grunts, leaning forward to press biting kisses to your chest.

“you- fuck, it belongs to you!” you whine, trying desperately to meet his thrusts. your legs have gone useless, thighs made of gelatin, but you still try. you want to make him feel so good.

“that’s right, baby. all mine to use,” felix groans, hand moving from your hip to your ass. suddenly, there’s a long fucking finger- and it’s pressing into you. right beside felix’s length.

you whine one more time, the feeling of being stuffed full enough to have you blacking out as you cum. your body is in overdrive, spine zipping with lighting, stars bursting behind your eyelids, pussy clenching around felix’s length and finger tight.

the feeling has felix gasping, pretty glittering eyes rolling back in his head as he cums, hot and deep inside you. you feel full to the brim, ropes of the sticky substance hitting your walls and making you throb again. you feel owned.

felix is still inside you when you come down from your high, face buried in his neck. he smells like sea salt and fresh air. you feel him tap your thigh again, causing you to blink at him sleepily, still feeling trance-like. he smiles softly at you, tucking stray hairs behind your ear and wiping tears from your face. when had you started crying?

“are you ready to go home, beautiful?” he asks, deep voice making you feel safe and satiated- warm despite the night chill. you nod softly, leaning into his hand as he cradles your face.

“yeah,” you mutter, yawning. “take me home.”

felix pulls out of you, gently hushing your whines of emptiness. he pulls your bathing suit back into place, scooping you up in his arms. you look out at the blurry scenery, watching as felix walks the two of you to the ledge of the ship. the waves are calm again, brushing the boat like a small animal saying hello. it feels inviting.

“let’s go home, love.” felix hums. and you do.

you go home.

seungmin;

a vampire lives in the creepy old castle on top of the hill by the cemetery. you’re sure of it.

your friend group jokes about this all the time- let’s go say hi to the vampire, i’m sure the vampire at the cemetery would love a snack, etcetera, etcetera. it’s one of the longest running jokes your friends have.

“okay, y/n- i dare you to go say hi to our friendly neighborhood vampire.”

still, it never gets old.

you laugh, running a hand through your hair as your friends whoop and holler, encouraging you to take the dare. rolling your eyes, you say, “what if he doesn’t want my company?”

another friend giggles, “c’mon y/n, don’t be a coward! are you… scared?”

really, that’s how you end up here- at the cemetery gates, one in the morning, your friend group yelling and pointing their phones at you as you walk inside.

“if i die, i’m haunting every single one of you bitches,” you laugh, shaking your head. you turn towards the cemetery, just barely able to make out the shape of the eery, desolate castle in the distant fog. well, it’s now or never.

the further you get into the fog of the night, you start to shiver. it’s cold out, late autumn air making your skin tingle. you’re sure the corpses around you are staying warmer. when you arrive at the foot of the hill, you wipe your sweaty palms against your long skirt and start your ascent.

from afar, the castle is big. up close, standing in front of the long, towering doorway, you realize it is gigantic. the gothic, stained glass windows and cobblestone exterior are beautiful, but the sheer mass of the building has something stirring in your gut. nerves attack your stomach as you raise your hand to knock.

knocking is the most reasonable thing to do, right?

there’s no answer- shocker. it’s the middle of the night, and if anyone truly does live here, they would be asleep. though, you doubt anyone actually resides in the castle. you’ve never seen anyone coming or going, the cobwebs on the door knockers proof of the vacancy. whatever. this was a waste of time.

your phone chimes, a message from your group chat stating go in or you lose!

annoyed, you huff. apparently, this will continue to waste your time.

you steadily grip the intricate door handle, polished stone carved with symbols you don’t understand, and twist the knob. at first it doesn’t budge- but then, a loud creak as it is pushed open.

you grunt with the force you have to exert, but manage to crack the door wide enough to squeeze inside. once you’re in, the door slams shut behind you, sealing your fate with an ominous click. the sudden silence makes your ears ring.

taking a deep breath, trying to ignore your rapid heart rate, you look at your surroundings. to your left is a large living area, deep red silk covers each sofa with yellow vines sewn into the fabric. a matching red rug sits underneath a large, mahogany coffee table, which is in front of a massive fire place. you breathe in deeply, smelling the lingering scent of burning wood.

someone has been here.

you carefully make your way further into the room, running fingers over books lining a shelved wall. no dust- you blink at your fingertips.

turning towards the fireplace, you squat down to hold a hand over the burnt wood. heat emits from the pile, warming your palm. then, you still. you didn’t feel it before, but you do now. something is behind you.

“oh, the spider caught a fly.”

you stand in record time, fighting the black spots dotting your vision as you twist to stare at the man before you. dark, elegant suit pants, a tan silk shirt, and heavy rings adorning calloused fingers. dark brown hair feathers out over his forehead, leading you to stare in shock as he looks back at you with crimson irises.

“well?” the man questions, raising a single eyebrow. “i would start running, little one.”

you run.

your feet stomp against the wooden floorboards as you try to sprint back to the door. when you had came in, it was only a handful of steps. now, it feels like the door keeps getting further and further away. when you successfully make it past the living room threshold you reach a hand out for the polished doorknob.

you hear a ripping sound, followed by an oomf! as you crash onto the floor. looking back you realize-

your fucking skirt got hung on a loose nail.

of course it did. you aren’t the final girl in some fucked up horror movie, this is real life. if anything, you would be the dumb one that dies in the first fifteen minutes.

you hear a low chuckle as the man slowly comes closer, shoes clicking in the silence of the room. you can’t hold back a whimper as he towers over you, feet planted on either side of your hips. you couldn’t move- couldn’t try to run anymore. he would just catch you.

he crouches down, smiling small and sharp and a little cruel as he looks you in the eye.

“that was pathetic,” he mutters. you nod slowly; it was pathetic. “what’s your name, little lamb?”

your voice is shaky when you reply, “y/n.”

“y/n,” the man mumbles, tilting his head as if deciding how it tastes on his tongue. he reaches out a hand, lifting your chin between his pointer finger and thumb. he is holding you a little roughly, making your lips pout slightly as you furrow your brow.

“it is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. call me seungmin. can you repeat that for me?” the man- seungmin- asks, although you don’t feel like you have much of a choice.

“…seungmin?” you whisper, the name foreign on your tongue. you might be delusional, but it tastes good in your mouth- like heady incense and metal.

when he grips your chin harder, sharp nails digging into your soft skin, you wince. that only serves to make him hold tighter, shaking your head slightly. “no whining. do you know why i asked you to say my name?”

you shake your head slowly, eyes watering at his grip. seungmin grins, and your blood runs cold. fangs. honest to god fangs are seated where his canines should be.

a vampire lives in the creepy old castle above the cemetery. you fucking knew it.

“because after i’m done with you, it is the only name you will remember.”

you’re hauled off the ground before you can process the words, and you’re being tossed onto silk sheets before you can even question how you got up the large, winding staircase in the hall so quickly. you yelp as he plops you onto the bed, not harshly but not soft. he treats you like a thing- an object he doesn’t care to break.

seungmin considers you for a moment, eyes dragging over every inch of your body. you feel naked and exposed, fragile and prey-like, and he hasn’t even touched you.

“i will only say this once,” he mutters, hands behind his back as he steps forward. he sits on the edge of silk sheets, looking every bit like some ancient, biblical statue of god. he smirks at you, unable to hold it back, like he can read your mind. and maybe he can- do vampires have superpowers like twilight made them out to?

“i am hungry, y/n,” seungmin says quietly, snapping your focus back to the present. he raises a hand, one singular finger running over your exposed calf. your breath hitches like you’ve been touched with a live wire. the ghost of a smile turns his lips upwards- feeling your reaction to him.

“i am starved,” he continues, fingertip trailing up and up, taking the bottom of your skirt with it. his movements stops half way up your thigh, pausing right before your skirt is moved to expose everything underneath. then, locking eyes with you:

“but you will let me feed, right?”

your chest rises and falls as if you’ve ran a marathon- panting for air and locked in a staring contest with something ancient, magic thrumming through his veins and curling down your throat heavy enough to make air scarce in your lungs.

you’re shaking, terrified, but beneath all the adrenaline and sweat clinging to your skin- you’re fucking soaked.

the realization makes you squeeze your thighs, knees knocking together. seungmin notices- of course he does- his sharp eyebrow raises.

“i need an answer,” he states, monotoned and deadpan, as if he didn’t look between your legs like you were the juiciest steak in the world. you would think he remains unaffected if you hadn’t noticed his blown out pupils; black fills his irises, animalistic and ready to pounce.

you nod, he doesn’t move. “a verbal answer.” he states, reigning in impatience. his fingers move on your leg, just barely raising your skirt more. just enough to reveal the barest hint of your aching core and wet panties.

your head feels heavy, the only thought playing on repeat is please, please, please- though you aren’t sure what you’re begging for. you say it aloud anyway, because maybe seungmin will know.

“i want it,” you say, voice coming out like a whimper. “please.”

the sharp grin you get in response makes you burn.

seungmin takes his time undressing you, as if he hadn’t said he is starved at all. if anything, he is patient. your clothes are taken inch by inch, until you’re left in nothing but the silk sheets around you; you shiver, trying to use the sheet to cover your chilled body.

you don’t make it far- seungmin grips your wrist as soon as you pull the blanket towards you, thumb pressing harshly into your fluttering pulse point.

“don’t try to hide,” he chides, eyes flitting from your own, to your chest and hard nipples, traveling down to your stomach, and finally pausing on your glistening pussy. you clench from the attention, empty and wanting so badly to be full. not only full, but whole.

he settles between your legs, hands coming to spread your thighs wide. you whimper- pitiful, you think. the voice in your head sounds like his.

seungmin is laser focused, leaning down and dragging open mouthed kisses over your neck. you heart stutters when he pauses by your shoulder- and he huffs a laugh into your skin. mean, teasing, like he knows what you’re waiting for.

suddenly you feel long, rough fingers- feather light touch running up from your entrance, circling your sensitive clit, then moving back down. you moan loudly, when your hips jolt to get closer to the touch his hand moves away. he chuckles at your resulting whine.

“what’s wrong, little lamb?” seungmin purrs, hand gripping one of your thighs tightly to hold you open. the fingers of his other hand continue to barely press against you, making you feel more and more desperate for ruin.

“please-“ you borderline sob, hands grabbing his shoulders through his shirt just for an anchor. finally, finally, you feel him move.

two fingers slide into you in one smooth thrust, immediately curling upward with pinpoint precision and making you cry out. seungmin mutters something, you can take it, as he starts pumping and scissoring them. your cunt is soaked- dripping onto the silk bedsheets and ruining them as you hear the wet sounds of his palm hitting your sensitive clit.

seungmin leans in again, mouth ghosting over your neck just long enough for you to clench around his fingers in anticipation. then, he passes by your neck entirely. instead he focuses his attention on your nipples- hard and already too sensitive- pressing his tongue directly to one before closing his lips around it.

you moan loudly, hips grinding down so that his fingers are pushed deeper inside you. seungmin huffs out an amused sound against your tits, the vibration around your nipple causing you to whine and beg for more.

“please, please,” you borderline yell, nails clawing at clothed shoulders. “need more- fuck, need you-“

seungmin slides a third finger into your eager pussy, the stretch sending you spiraling into more fucked-out whining. you feel like you’ve been lit on fire, desperate to have him own you in every way possible. you want his fingers, his tongue, his cock- fuck, you would probably let him carve his name into your ribs as long as he promised to finally fucking bite you.

“so needy,” seungmin hums, lifting from your nipple and moving to give the other one the same treatment. “you gonna beg for it, little one?”

“seungmin,” you whine, feeling the drag of his long fingers against your sensitive walls. you’re close already- you’re fucked. “god, please! i need you i-inside me, please!”

you’re crying. you hadn’t even realized. you are so overcome with need that your body doesn’t know what to do with itself. but then seungmin is shushing you, whispering that he knows exactly what to give you- exactly how to take care of you. then, he’s shedding his clothes.

his cock is mouthwatering.

he is long, curved just slightly at the tip, a blushing vein running under his shaft and precum leaking from his tip. you know you aren’t the only one affected now. seungmin wants you so bad.

he curses under his breath once, spreading your folds to watch as he lines his cock up with your entrance and teases the tip around your aching hole. he leans down to your ear, about to speak.

he pushes in to the hilt in one smooth, deliberate thrust.

then, his fangs sink into the fragile skin of your neck.

you scream. you absolutely shatter around his length, buried inside you as you come undone.

your neck is fucking sore- white hot pain quickly morphing into dizzying pleasure as you feel him pull the blood from your veins. his hips grind into yours, not pulling out. just a dirty rhythm to make your toes curl while he drinks from you.

“fuck, that’s it. squeeze my cock, work for it,” seungmin is moaning, eyes rolling back in his head as you throb around him. you see stars, panting and clawing at his arms hard enough to leave angry red lines. he pulls away from your neck, eyes glazed over as he looks down at you.

he starts thrusting.

the pace seungmin sets is deadly- hips pistoning into you with measured, fast punches. his cock kisses your cervix with every full, deep thrust. you swear you can feel it in your stomach. it’s like your body is rearranging its organs specifically to make room for him.

“please,” you whimper out again, entirely unsure what you’re begging for. you’re fucked dumb. and seungmin knows it, grinning at you with blood stained teeth and still-hungry eyes.

“already fucked stupid?” he asks, looking sympathetic. “unfortunate. i’m just getting started, pretty girl.”

seungmin’s hands move, one anchoring your hip to the bed for easier control, one coming up to your throat to grip you tight. the air fights to pass into your lungs, your moans turning broken and fragile at the added pressure. seungmin’s thumb is right above the puncture wound from his fangs, and when he shifts he presses directly over the still-tender wound in a way that makes your body seize up, squeezing him tight.

your moans grow an octave higher- that feeling sparking in the pit of your gut once again as seungmin drags his cock over that sweet bundles of nerves that makes you melt. he shifts, hand that was on your thigh now coming to circle your clit with precise, sharp fingers.

“gonna cum again, little one?” seungmin asks, huffing in amusement even as he starts to lose the pace of his thrusting. “go ahead. milk me dry, darling.”

your legs twitch on either side of seungmin’s waist, thighs clenching shut around him as you cry out- loud, voice cracking, eyes rolling back. seungmin squeezes your neck once more, a harsh reminder of who you belong to from this point forward.

you cum. hard.

the second orgasm you have makes your vision go white. you can feel seungmin lean back down to puncture your neck, the side he hadn’t already bit, and another wave of pleasure moves through you. your legs shake, vision going blurry, as you weakly grab onto the hair at the back of his neck.

seungmin pulls away, using your pliant body to thrust once, twice more before holding himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, breaking apart while seated deep inside you.

you can feel him throbbing, pulsing with every wave of his orgasm. when you both ride out your highs, the room is silent aside from your panting and seungmin’s quieter, deeper breathing.

he pulls out slowly- you both wince. he disappears for a minute only to come back with a soft cloth, damp and warm where it touches the skin of your thighs. seungmin cleans you up, focused on every bit of the mess the two of you have made.

when he deems you clean enough, he lies down beside you on the wrinkled sheets. your heartbeat stutters as he wraps you in an oversized, silken button down, a large comforter enveloping the two of you right after. he brings a hand to the back of your head, pulling you gently into his chest.

“i have unfortunate news for you, little lamb.” seungmin mutters, lips to your hair. you furrow your brow and look up, not responding. fingers card through your hair.

“i plan to keep you in this bed, forever. you’re mine now.”

seungmin’s fingers trail down, stopping at the fresh puncture wounds on your neck. you gasp, eyes fluttering as he presses down teasingly over the wound.

“til death do us part.”

jeongin;

getting lost in the middle of a forest was not on your bucket list. but if it had been, you could put a little check mark next to it now.

you had laid a trail of flower petals when you entered the forest. all of the townspeople always warn against going in without a clear way out- the winding paths and overgrown flora make even the best cartographer fall into confusion. however, you live on the very edge of this forest- however dense and intimidating it may be, you always follow the tree-line to pick seasonal berries and honeysuckle from the bushes. the forest makes you feel at peace.

today you decided to venture farther in than usual. the season has been bountiful, but rumors detail more forage buried deeper in the intricate canopy of trees- berries you can’t even find unless you dare walk into the unknown. so you picked flowers from your garden, shed them of their petals, and left a colorful trail behind you as you walked into the thick greenery.

you had thought you were lucky. you had thought the petals would keep you from getting turned around. now, so deep into the trees and bushes that all you can see is more trees on all sides, the flower petals you remember leaving trails of liberally are gone. as if swept away by the wind- or picked up as soon as you had placed them.

you sigh as you slouch onto a large tree that had fallen over. you tried going back the way you came, only to feel deeper in the woods. the sun is slowly moving overhead, slowly making way for the moon, and the sweat beading on your forehead is only partially from the temperature.

you’re lost. thoroughly.

oddly enough, you feel less worrisome than you should. the forest has always been a second home to you, now you have just explored farther into its walls and deeper into its crevices. as long as you make it home by sundown, there is no need to fret. the fresh honey suckle in your basket relaxes you, the berries ready to provide nourishment when you feel hungry.

the sun goes down.

you have been wandering for hours- feeling no closer or further away from home than you had been during the day. dusk quickly approaches, every owl hooting and deer rustling the nearby fallen branches makes your heart kick in your throat. you feel faintly dizzy, how had you passed the same tree four times now?

another fallen branch snaps nearby; undoubtedly, another deer trying to remind you it’s time to leave. you step backwards, ready to turn around and walk in a straight line until you can see something that isn’t green, but your heel hits a large root.

a muted thud- just as you trip on the tree root, hitting the damp dirt, ass first.

ouch.

you groan in frustration, pitifully kicking your legs as you squint up through the leaves above you. hours ago, the sun had been overhead. now, the moon takes it’s place, glimmering and twinkling like it is amused by your struggle.

“are you lost?” a smooth voice, quiet and to your left. your head quickly snaps towards the sound, heart beating like that of a wild hare as you look at the crouching figure beside you.

you hadn’t heard him approach, but the man is close now. elbows on his knees, loose fitting pants tied around slender hips with a simple rope. when your gaze tilts upwards, you find a wide, mischievous grin and sharp, white teeth.

the man is gorgeous. jaw-dropping, like he just walked out of ancient greece. The taught muscles of his biceps and large thighs let you know his body matches the gods you compare him to.

the fox-like figure raises an eyebrow, plush lips curling upward in an amused grin. you blink at him, unable to remember what he had said.

“what?”

the man grins fully, laughter curling around your body and settling beside your brain. he reaches a hand out towards you, slender fingers and manicured, pointed nails aiding in getting you to your feet.

“i said, are you lost?”the man hums, dimpled cheeks and mischievous eyes luring you in. you shake your head, smoothing out your dress and picking a stray leaf out of your stockings.

“no! of course not,” you scoff, completely lying. “i just… got a little confused. i’m on my way home.”

the man still grins, undeterred by your uncomfortable posture. he raises his eyebrows at you. “oh yeah? i’m on my way home, too. wanna walk together?”

you pause. normally, trusting a man you don’t know in the woods would be a terrible, horrible idea. but really- this guy seems… fine. maybe your survival instincts are just dulled because he’s hot. and what other choice do you have? wander until a larger animal finds you?

you nod. “sure, lead the way.”

he does lead the way; you watch the man’s broad back as he walks half a step in front of you, hands in his pockets and humming to himself. slowly, you begin to relax. you aren’t really in danger, you will be able to go home.

the trees don’t get any less dense the longer you walk. however, the man suddenly comes to a halt and turns to face you. you jump, almost running into his solid chest, but stop yourself at the last second. when you look up, the moon shines in his glimmering pupils.

“well, you’re welcome to come in. get a good night’s rest then start home tomorrow,” the man hums, grinning still. you furrow your brows, but your eyes widen when you peak behind him. there’s a whole cottage in the middle of the thick, twisting trees.

“you live here?” you ask, incredulous. the man laughs, eyes turning to sweet crescents. his laugh makes your ears ring, like a siren song.

“i do,” he nods, heading towards the wooden door. you follow quickly behind, afraid to be left alone again. “i can get you home, but it’ll have to be when the sun is up. i can’t see well at night.”

you pause in the threshold of the wooden cottage, watching as the man walks into his kitchen and stirs a large, boiling pot. as you cautiously step further into the home, closing the front door, your mouth waters. you smell stew- it smells heavenly.

you shuffle closer to the pot, stomach rumbling. apparently, berries and honeysuckle are not the best source of nutrition when you have been walking aimlessly for hours. the man notices your starved state, wetting your lips as you peek into the large pot. he clears his throat softly.

“you can have some, you know.” the man smiles, pulling two wooden bowls from a shelf above. he scoops a large portion into both bowls, handing one to you.

“oh- thank you…” you smile sheepishly, trailing off as you realize you don’t have his name.

he tells you it’s jeongin.

the longer you spend in jeongin’s presence, legs criss-crossed on a mat beside a large, stone fireplace, the more relaxed you become. jeongin is nice; he is witty, sharp-tongued, yet comforting to be with. you finish the stew fast, stomach full and bones content to rest.

jeongin takes your bowls back to the kitchen. when he sits down on the mat again, his knee brushes yours. the feeling, oddly, makes your stomach swoop.

“y/n,” jeongin murmurs, eyes quickly cataloguing the details of your face, the relaxed state of your body. whatever he finds when he looks at you makes his lips quirk up at the edges.

“are you tired? you are more than welcome to sleep in my bed. i can take the couch.”

you furrow your brows, pouting slightly. jeongin’s eyes flit down to track the movement.

“no way, i can sleep on a couch. it won’t kill me,” you say. you move to twist your body, back cracking as the tension from the day is released. as you groan from the feeling, jeongin laughs softly. his hand comes to gently rub your spine.

“please, your body needs proper rest. you should take care of yourself- if not, you’ll get weak.”

the hand on your back draws lazy circles, making your breath hitch. your half lidded eyes fly open, wide and doe-like. when you make eye contact with the man, sharp teeth bite into his bottom lip. briefly, you imagine them at your jugular.

“really, it’s fine.” you breathe out, pulse thudding against your temples. you can’t pinpoint why, but you feel cornered. trapped.

jeongin’s nails graze your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. while running them lightly over your back, one of his fingers catches on a torn seam. you feel the cut of the thread as his nail snags it, breaking the hemming.

suddenly, the contentment you felt earlier is replaced. while you expect to feel terror, you can’t bring yourself to move away. you realize with startling clarity that you aren’t afraid. your pussy throbs- you’re soaked.

jeongin’s mouth splits wide, like a cat that caught a mouse. self-satisfied, confident in his domain. he lives in these woods; if you chose to run now, he would find you. catch you.

you don’t want to run.

“what made you so quiet?” he hums, tilting his head. “you’re like a mouse, baby.”

you squeak. he laughs.

then, he leans in. whispering right by your ear, “come here. let me show you what these claws are for.”

jeongin pulls you into his lap, leaving you gasping and holding his broad shoulder with shaking hands. with a hand gripping your jaw, claws digging into your cheeks, he opens your mouth and takes exactly what he wants.

the second his tongue meets yours, you both moan. the wood burning in the fireplace behind you crackles, heating the room as your skin breaks out into a sheen of sweat. jeongin uses the hand not on your face to run up your thigh, under your dress, and grip your bare waist in his rough grasp. your hips grind downwards unconsciously- the feeling of claws gripping your skin and his cock heavy underneath you makes your panties stick to your wet core. you want to wake up tomorrow and find nail-shaped marks on your body.

“fuck, i can feel how wet you are, baby.” jeongin purrs, lips turning upwards against your skin as he leaves open mouthed kisses down your neck. “soaking my pants too, hm?”

you shudder, tilting your head back so he has more access to your neck. “please, jeongin- i need you, please-“

“shh, sh, sh,” he shushes you gently, looking at you with pity in his eyes. you whine against him, circling your hips harder and causing his eyelids to flutter softly. “don’t worry, lovely. i’ll give you what you need.”

jeongin lifts you effortlessly, laying you on your back, legs spread wide on the mat below you. he helps you remove your dress, leaving you in your ruined panties and nothing else. his eyes are hungry, starving even though you had just ate. when he glances back up at you, he’s panting.

“you look absolutely delicious,” he moans, hands gripping your thighs and spreading your legs wider. you whine as his head lowers, nipping teasingly at the sensitive skin near your core.

“i just have to taste you.”

jeongin slides fingers into your panties, slipping them to the side before he is devouring your cunt. you cry out at the first pointed, precise flick of his tongue against your clit, trying to close your legs around his head. the thought is useless; jeongin keeps your legs open with his hands, tongue fucking in and out of you at a pace that makes your toes start to curl already.

“please- too much-“ you beg, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your hands grip thick, dark hair like it is your only tether. you have never felt so close so fast in your life. no slow build, no wave of pleasure, only white-hot, pinpoint pressure that makes your vision go blurry. it feels too good, has your pussy clenching on his tongue before he’s even been between your legs five minutes. it’s embarrassing, how fast you’re hurdling towards orgasm.

you feel more than hear it, the vibration of laughter against your sensitive clit. jeongin is laughing at you- at your pitiful, needy sounds. the thought makes a fresh wave of slick arousal leave you.

jeongin’s tongue moves upwards again, flicking over your clit and encasing the sensitive bud between his lips, sucking on it until your legs are trembling. then, claws dig into your thighs again- you’re reminded the man below you is not quite human.

you break. thoroughly, completely shatter.

your thighs try to snap shut, but jeongin holds them open with rough, calloused hands. his tongue moves through your orgasm, steadily working you until you’re reduced to nothing but whimpers and twitching joints. with one last wide, flat lick to your core, he rises to his knees between yours legs.

“fuck, baby-“ he groans, head tilted downward so he can untie the rope of his pants, pushing the fabric down around muscular thighs. “you’re perfect, needed me to find you, hm? needed me to bring you home?”

you nod faintly, biting your bottom lip harsh enough to taste metal. jeongin is huge- cock pretty, vein running up the underside of his shaft, head pink and leaking precum that makes your mouth water. he notices you looking, a sharp, calculating glint in his eye.

“what is it, pretty?” he tilts his head, looking down at you with half lidded eyes as he taps the head of his cock against your pussy teasingly. “wanna beg for it?”

you whine, clenching at the wet sound of your cunt trying to pull him in. “please! jeongin, i need you- please, please, please-“

he laughs again, has the audacity to lean down and hook his thumb into your mouth just to shut you up. when you try to glare at him through watery eyes, you still completely.

there are three- no, four tails coming from behind the man. you watch the way they curl and sway like a cat, unable to move as more and more pop up. in total, as the fur fans out in a peacock-state, you count nine orange and white appendages springing forth from behind him.

holy fucking shit. definitely not human.

jeongin sees your distracted state, glancing behind himself with little care. when he turns back to you his eyes seem somehow sharper, more aware of his surroundings. more aware of you.

the thumb in your mouth presses down on your tongue, causing spit to pool around your teeth. you blink up at him, eyes wide and expression deer-like.

“still begging, baby?” jeongin murmurs, narrowing his eyes.

against all warning signals flaring in your head, you nod.

the grin you get in return is borderline feral, all sharp canines and pearly white teeth as jeongin lines himself up with your entrance and bottoms out in one long, smooth thrust. you cry out around his thumb, biting down on it in your attempt to ground yourself. the sting of pain makes him hiss, the pace he sets is immediately brutal.

jeongin drags his thumb away from your mouth, dragging your own salvia down your cheek before gripping both thighs to pull your legs over his shoulders. his hips snap in time with your loud cries and his own panting, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your heart stutter every time he thrusts in. your hands fumble to grab onto something- anything to keep you stable- but come up short. instead, you can only grab the edge of the mat to pray for sanity.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” jeongin moans, head tilting back to bare his neck. the tails are wrapped around him now, curled like tentacles and fluffed up in a show of dominance. if you were capable of thought, you might think they’re pretty.

“please- j-jeongin, i can’t-“ you babble, whining out the words in between your own moans, pleasure zipping through every atom in your body. your blood pumps in time with his thrusts, your heart beating in his clawed grip. even now, you know nothing will ever compare to this feeling. you’re undoubtedly ruined for anyone else.

“baby, god. you getting close?” jeongin asks, bottom lip once again taken between sharp teeth. you nod frantically, head bobbling as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten for the second time. this time, the feeling builds slower. the peek of pleasure is just up ahead, and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and pray that the spiral leaves you still breathing.

jeongin moves his hand and your eyes snap back open with a broken moan. his deft fingers meet your clit, pressing tight, fast circles to the bud of nerves. faintly, you can tell his thrusts are getting sloppier too. less precision, more desperation.

“cum on my cock, pretty.” he groans, fucking into you at a faster pace, using all of his energy to push you that much closer. “fuck me, just like that.”

your body locks up around him- coil in your stomach finally snapping as you shudder through a second orgasm.

it lasts for what feels like decades, pussy convulsing and throbbing around his cock. then, as you’re finally coming down jeongin groans. he thrusts into you once, twice more before burying himself to the hilt and cumming deep inside you.

when the rhythm of your heart finally returns to normal, jeongin pulls out. you almost groan in annoyance, but the feeling of soft warmth enveloping your body has you sighing instead. looking to your left, jeongin looks back at you with puffy lips and pink cheeks. nine tails surround the two of you, cocooned in safety and comfort in the woodland cottage.

you wake up to the bright light of the morning sun. looking around with a furrowed brow, you feel discontent with your cotton sheets and silk pillowcases. the thought of fur and a beating heart still haunts you. had you dreamt the whole thing?

the dense treeline of an evergreen forest still peeks at you from beyond your bedroom curtains. when you finally crawl out of bed, your lower back aches. there are small, claw-shaped scratches littered along your hips. none of this convinces you of the truth, though. no-

the thing that convinces you of reality lays on your kitchen table. your basket, fresh berries and honeysuckle piled on one side. the other holds a large mason jar, delicious stew from your memories seated inside. there’s a piece of parchment attached to the lid, when you pick it up you can feel the warmth emitting from the glass.

when you miss me, come to the forest.

i will find you.

-y.j.

a/n;

this was so tremendously fun to write and i put my whole pussy into it so please lmk what u think :3 /gen i worked on this every day for like two weeks bc i wanted to make sure it was perfect

i can’t stop thinking about jisung being a dragon like im crawling on the floor i need him so bad

requests are open!!

[keepmetogether]

STRAY HEARTS: RENT-A-BOYFRIEND

⤷ Agent Assigned: Han Jisung x afab!reader

⤷ Client Scenario: A fake date to get your friends off your back turns into the best hookup you’ve ever had and forgetting it was fake to begin with.

⤷ Case Warnings: oral (f.rec), unprotected sex

⤷ WC: 2.9k

♡ Stray Hearts File: 002 of 010

♡ Event Masterlist | ⋆｡‧˚ʚ Masterlist ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Your match is one minute away

You're watching the little dot inch closer on the Rent-a-Boyfriend app like you're tracking a DoorDash order. Honestly? Not that different. Except instead of delivering food, he’s here to rescue you from your meddling, very persistent, very single friends. 

The girls are already halfway into the first bottle of wine and arguing over which romcom to put on. Your roommate, Lacey, is on her third blind date pitch of the night. If you hear the words “he’s got a stable job and loves dogs” one more time, you're going to snap.

Just then, the doorbell rings. You rush to the door without an ounce of grace, and there he is.

Flannel, white tee, grey sweatpants with the possibility of no boxers underneath. He’s got messy hair and a lazy, charming smile like he woke up ten minutes ago and still somehow pulled it together. 

“There’s my sugar plum,” he says, voice low and way too confident for someone using that nickname and actually meaning it.

You blink. “I—what?”

He leans in, arms already wide like he wants to say ‘where’s my hug?’ “C’mon, babe, don’t be shy in front of your little friends. Let me in before I start whining.”

Oh, he’s a dork. A hot one. 

You step back, and to your horror—and reluctant delight—he wraps you in a hug. It’s firm with faux familiarity. “I’m going to regret this,” you mutter.

“You paid for premium, sweetheart.” He flashes a grin, slipping off his sneakers. “Regret’s not an option.”

Then he claps once—loud, sharp—you flinch, and he marches straight to the kitchen like he owns the place. Your friends fall silent as he walks in. It’s kind of impressive. Even Lacey, who once debated a cop over a parking ticket while clearly drunk, looks stunned.

Jisung gives them all a once over that just borders the line of inappropriate. “Hi. I’m Jisung. You must be the friends she complains about.”

You nearly choke. “Han.” 

He winks over his shoulder, already reaching for the wine bottle like it’s his. “She calls me Han when she’s pretending she doesn’t like me.”

“Because I don’t.” you say flatly.

“She lies.” he tells your friends.

He pours himself a glass and raises it like a toast. “It’s a pleasure for you all to meet me. I hope I feel some pleasure too.”

You scowl, rubbing the heel of your palm into your eye like a stressed out cartoon character. This is never going to work. You take a seat across from where he stands, trying to seem even remotely interested in your ‘boyfriend’. 

Lacey leans in, mouth twisted like she’s trying to smell bullshit. “So... how did you two meet?”

Han doesn’t miss a beat. “Not telling, the story is too close to my heart. I’m gatekeeping it. You’ll hear it at the wedding. I’m already planning my vows.”

Your entire soul leaves your body with a single scoff. “We’re not getting married,” you snap.

“Yet,” he replies, sipping his wine. “But I have plans for us.” He gives you a kissy face and your friends exchange a glance. He’s losing them. Or winning. It’s hard to tell.

You all move to the living room. Netflix is cued up and snacks are laid out. Han grabs a handful of M&M’s and mixes it with skittles as he drops down next to you like it’s instinct. You watch on, half horrified and half concerned. “What? They’re all going to the same place.”

His arm drapes over your shoulders with too much ease. His hand finds your knee. You glare at him sideways, but he just smiles—easy, casual chaos. 

Your friends settle in, finally picking a movie, some mid-2000s romcom with a predictably chaotic meet-cute. The wine is flowing and everyone’s stealing glances at you two.

The girls are talking through the movie. Gawking at the male lead and discussing whether or not matching with your boyfriend is cute or cringe. You don’t join in, you never really do anymore. Too afraid that one of them will use the conversation to pitch their brother’s best friend's cousin to you.  

Jisung is actually watching the movie. A third handful of mixed candies are shoveled into his mouth and you lean away, kinda over it all. He pulls you back in, casually tossing your legs over his lap like it’s muscle memory. And then he starts tracing patterns.

First your ankle. Then up, slow and unassuming, his fingertips running along your calf, your thigh, higher. You shoot him a look, but his eyes are glued to the screen. His hand, however, is absolutely not glued to a safe zone

“I’ve been tracking your pulse through your thigh this entire time,” he whispers.

You give him a look, his eyes stay on the screen.

He grins. “It tells me everything I need to know. That plus your slight flush are classic symptoms of falling for your fake boyfriend.”

“Or I’m just annoyed.”

“Or,” he says, pointing at the screen and finally looking your way, “Ryan Reynolds is on screen again and your hormones are betraying you.”

“That’s not even—oh my god, that’s Ryan Gosling.”

He blinks, shrugs and squeezes the plush of your thigh just a little. You lean into it. “Same tax bracket. Same jawline. Same vibe.”

You burst into laughter—sharp, real, too loud.

Your friends all glance over. “Everything okay over there?” One of them asks, eyeing Han as he tears into a twizzler.

“Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat and biting back your smile. “Just watching the movie.” But Jisung’s grinning like he won something. He leans closer, voice just for you now.

“You laugh like someone who’s kissed me before. Not an ex but maybe my future.”

Your eyes roll before you register it, “I am not your future and I have not kissed you.” You look at each other, he raises a brow. “You will.”

You try to glare. Try to resist, but he’s smirking and his fingers are brushing the inside of your thigh like someone told him just how you like it. “I could do it now,” he says, quiet, playful. “Seal the illusion. Really sell it.”

“You just want to kiss me.” It comes out softer than you meant for it to, your eyes drift just slightly down but his are already there, watching your mouth shamelessly.

“Desperately,” he whispers. “You’re too pretty to just pretend to date.” 

Your chest tightens, your lips part to say something a bit too flirty—and that’s when Lacey calls out, “He’s very… hands-on, huh?”

You both freeze.

Jisung lifts his hands like a suspect caught at the scene. “Guilty.”

“Dude,” Lacey mutters, “we’re still in the room.”

He doesn’t even blink. “Is it a crime to wanna fuck my girlfriend?”

The room stops.

Dead. Silence.

Your other two friends cough so hard they choke on their wine. Lacey makes a face halfway between oh no and oh he’s hot. Your jaw drops. 

“Han Jisung, shut up!”

He looks around, frowning. “It’s a valid question.” 

Then he’s standing before anyone else can say a thing, holding out a hand to you like he’s about to lead you onto a dance floor instead of to your bedroom.

“C’mon, sugar plum,” he says with a wink. “ Let’s leave the judgmental singles to their vino.”

You glare, whispering as you stand, “You don’t know where my room is.”

He shrugs, whispering back. “I’ll find it. Like I found your heart.” You let him pull you forward, trying not to smile. Your friends all make a sound like they want to say something… but what?

Just as you’re out of sight Han pauses, just loud enough that they can hear him “Uh… which room is yours again?”

You sigh. “This way, dumbass.”

He grins and follows. “That’s my girl.”

You shove him down the hallway. He still opens two wrong doors, calls your linen closet ‘cozy,’ then finally stumbles into your actual room. Once the door’s shut, you spin to face him, slapping his chest. “You’re the worst.”

“You paid for me,” he says, all teeth and mischief as he takes in your room. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Plus,” He looks back at you, still grinning “You’re wet.”

You blink. “I am not—”

He takes a step closer. “Babe, I am an expert. It is my job to know.” Your mouth opens to argue—and then his tongue slips over yours with your next breath.

He kisses you like a college guy getting laid for the first time in two weeks, and for some reason it works in his favor. As much as your brain screams to pull away… your body is okay with this. 

He kisses like he talks—fast, greedy, no filter. He's nearly sucking on your tongue before your brain can catch up, hands already gripping your ass like the clock’s ticking and he’s got something to prove.

You gasp into it. “Jisung—”

“Sorry. Sorry, you’re really pretty,” he pants, backing into the wall by your door. You follow, you don’t know why, but you do. “God, I’m so glad you picked me.”

You nearly make fun of him, tease him for really acting like a horny guy from a frat party but the soft grip of his hands on your waist makes your brain buffer. His eyes are already heavy lidded, asking for more. You lean in with permission.

This time he kisses you like he’s always wanted to. Like he’s known you for years and the opportunity finally fell in his favor. It’s deep, smooth, his tongue slides over yours like he really is an expert. Total difference.

Your hands fist into his flannel, pushing it down his shoulders and he turns, switching places with you. His flannel falls to the floor just as your back hits the wall beside the door. Your gasp sounds too much like a moan. 

“Do that again,” he whispers, then bites your lip. “Show me what other pretty sounds you can make.” he rolls his hips into yours and grinds—once, perfectly—and your mouth parts with an actual moan.

“There she goes.” His lips are back on yours in an instant. He moves you, walking backward and bumping into your dresser, your chair, a damn plant before finally landing you on the bed.

You’re breathless. Laughing like you can’t help it. “Are you always this clumsy?”

He lands with a soft oof on top of you, bracing himself on his forearms. His grin is wild and unrepentant. “Only when I’m trying to get laid by someone way out of my league.”

You snort. “I am pretty out of your league.”

“Ouch.” He feigns offence, kissing your cheek. Then your jaw. Then lower. “It’s a good thing I still have plenty of time to prove myself.”

You open your mouth, ready to tell him to shut up, but then he hooks his fingers into your shorts and drags them down your thighs without breaking eye contact, and your brain fizzles out.

He whistles low. “Damn. Did I just leave you speechless?” your brain still won’t work.

Your shirt goes next, flung somewhere past the dresser he nearly tripped over. His hands trace your sides, up your ribs, greedy but slow and warm. Unhurried for a guy who looks seconds away from combusting just from this alone.

“You good?” he asks, and it’s the first time he sounds truly serious. Gentle, even. “We can stop if you want—” You pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss him hard.

“That’s a yes,” he mutters, dazed.

Then his cocky college boy grin is back as he dips down between your thighs, kissing your inner thigh with a sloppy mix of tongue and teeth. You arch, your hand tangles in his hair as he shifts lower and lower.

“I have this playlist,” he says, licking a barely there stripe up your center, “of my moans. You can sample them if you want. Pick your favorite.”

You laugh, actually cackle, caught so off-guard your body folds in a little.

“That right there,” he murmurs, licking again. “That’s better than my entire playlist.” Then he finally puts his mouth on you. He doesn’t ease into it. No gentle warm up, no drawn out tease. His tongue is pressed flat against your clit in an instant, sucking and slurping so loudly you’re sure the girls can hear it over the movie.

“God—Han—fuck—”

Your hips jolt. Your fingers thread tighter into his hair and he groans against you like you’ve unlocked a new kink for him. You reach for the sheets, your fist twist in them just as his nose bumps over your clit and his tongue fucking turns shallow.

He pops up, chin shiny, eyes wide. “Say that again.” He grins. “Just wanna remember how it sounds. 

You grab him by the collar and yank him up. “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he kisses over your stomach, moving faster now that you’ve asked. Your shirt comes off, your bra goes next. His tongue traces slow circles over your nipples, then quick, playful flicks that make you arch with a sharp inhale.

Then he fumbles his sweats off—nearly falls over—and finally kneels between your thighs, breath heaving, cock flushed and hard and way more than you expected from a man who unironically called you sugar plum.

He pulls his shirt off and you pause. Stare. There are tattoos, two of them.

One sprawls across his chest on the right, black ink, script you can’t quite read in the low light, paired with a compass. The other stretches up his left side, dark bold lettering. 

Your eyebrows lift before you can stop them. “You have tattoos?”

Han freezes, shirt halfway to the floor. “Shit—do I need to put it back on? Is this a no tattoo household?”

“No, I just—” You blink. “You don’t seem like the type.”

He grins, cocky as ever, like you just said exactly what he hoped that anyone who saw the ink would. “That’s what makes them hot.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he’s already lining himself up. He thrusts in all at once, and whatever you were going to say dies in your throat, replaced by a moan so wrecked it barely sounds like you. 

“Swear to God, if you moan like that again I’m getting your name inked above my dick.” You choke on a laugh, but it melts into a gasp when he rolls his hips a little deeper.

“Deadass,” he mutters. “Right over the waistband, cursive font. Maybe a little heart if you keep clenching like that.” You dig your nails into his shoulder, a laugh shuddering through you and ending in another moan.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re so tight. I need a minute. I’m malfunctioning.”

You whine, shifting beneath him, seeking friction. “Just move.”

“Ohhh, you’re a brat. Got it. I’ll remember that.”

He starts thrusting, holding your hips in place and watching himself disappear inside you before he just starts watching you. The way your eyes flutter shut, your mouth falls open with little whimpers and whispers. Missionary turns into a slow grind with your legs locked around him, deep in a way that no one else has ever been. You mean it when you mumble that you can feel him in your stomach. 

Then it gets sloppy. He’s flipping you on your side, holding your leg up as he slams in from the angle that makes both of you moan in approval. He’s the whining type, fingers digging into plush flesh and practically crying above you like a cat in heat.

“Baby,” he groans. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“You’re talking too much,” you manage.

He kisses your calf, more tongue than anything. “If you keep being bratty I’ll lick behind your knee just to see what noise you make.” 

You wheeze a laugh that’s interrupted by a whimper as he pulls out, turning you onto your stomach and pulling you up onto your knees. He drags his cock through your folds before sliding in again, harder this time, his hands gripping your hips like he's grounding you.

The moans coming out of him aren’t even human. High-pitched. Desperate. Pornographic.

“Fuck—jagi—don’t clench like that,” His rhythm falters for just a second “I’m tryna make it last.”

You’re no better, moaning into the sheets, legs shaking. “Han, my god.”

“Yeah?” he groans, rutting into you with a frantic rhythm. “Tell me. Tell me how good I feel.”

You start to speak, your lips part but only his name makes it off of your tongue before you’re coming. Hard. Legs shaking and knees slipping enough for him to have to hold you up while he fucks you through your high. Slow and shallow, dragging it out just right.

“That’s what I thought, baby.” He pulls out just as your high is dying down, panting as he strokes himself once, twice, and then—

His load is hot on your ass, his chest heaving and yours is no better. The air is too hot, your moans still echo into nothing.

“Shit,” he whispers. “Ten outta ten.”

You barely move, you’re dazed. Boneless. Then you feel fabric—his shirt—as he starts wiping you down with the gentleness of a man who’s definitely done this before.

You turn, blinking at him like he’s lost his mind. “Really? Your shirt?”

He throws it to the side and leans forward, kissing your cheek. “Boyfriend duties, no big deal. Now roll over, I’m offering complimentary cuddles.”

You sigh, rolling onto your side like your limbs forgot how to function—cause they did. He follows instantly, sliding in behind you and tugging you in like you belong there, like this wasn’t a paid performance. His arm drapes around your waist. He exhales like this is the best part. Like he means it.

He wiggles his brows. “Better leave me a good review or I’ll cry.” 

You huff a laugh, settling into him. “Three stars at best.” He gasps in fake offense, leaning in a bit closer and tickling you just barely. 

“That was at least a four star performance!” You start laughing again, full and unfiltered. Swatting his hand away and leaning further into his chest.

He smiles into your hair. “That one. Still my favorite sound.”

A/N: Is this my first solo Han smut??? I think it is...

I took FOREVER to do this. forgive me my, my chronic illnesses are being...chronic. but the event must go on!

mdni banner is by @anitalenia

Event Taglist: @bunnies-only @chrisbangsass @puccaaak @beal-o @jinniesgirl @emilyywhyy @tsunderelino @innies-goth-gf @bbokaricentral @seunginz @rougegenshin @lomllino @akindaflora @scribblesnsketches05 @chrizzztopherbang

All Content: @wealwayskeepfighting @whokno-ows @stay-tiny-things @yaorzu-blog @krayzieestay @nxtt2-u  @armystay89 @kayleefriedchicken @compersian  @kibs-and-bits @whokno-ows @poppet05 @estella-novella @unbel1ve4ble @pixie-felix @catsforlife6864 @lisaskz @chloe-elise-2000 @jaeminie-cricket @gingerrracha @wickedbutlovely @lolareadsimagines @h00d-tr4sh @felixleftchickennugget @jeyelleohe @hanjiyunho @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @iminc0gnito @dreamingaboutjisung @lixiluvs @lghtdarling @teddy-stay @baconcupcakes123 @soulsbbg @stay-bi @yzsqu @lghtdarling @joonkki @my_neurodivergent_world @tricky-ritz @linospetsitter @0sunshinecryptidd @miyaluvvsyou @chansfavoriterubberducky @felixleftchickennugget @babygay2005 @stellasays45 @corgilover20 @bx-lov3 @myrkhive @kttb @rockstarkkami @cowboylikemalika @angellcvkes @caitlyn98s @camryn-haitani @felixsonlyrealwife @binnie-c @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @bbokarismeow @hannahlue @nctdreamchaser @tangerineastronaut @lezleeferguson-120 @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @staytinyluva @iyenabi @sammhisphere @hhjlvr @geni-627 @thvsuga @staytinyluva

If your name is red then your account didn't pop up when tagged!

[keepmetogether]

Angel’s SKZ Birthday Bash 🎂

Dont Let Me Love You

Bestfriend! Hyunjin x Reader

Tags: Angst, best friends to lovers, unrequited love, stubbornness, smut, feelings realization, slow burn, drunken confession, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, lots of kissing, sexual tension.

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: You were never supposed to fall for him. Not your best friend, the boy who swore he didn’t believe in love anymore. But he touched you like he forgot, looked at you like he remembered, and held you like he wished he could stay. You told yourself it was nothing. That you’d imagined it. Until one night, the truth slipped past your lips, thick with wine and want. And suddenly, he wasn’t pretending anymore. He begged you not to love him. You did it anyway. Now, there’s no going back.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

🎊: Happy Birthday to an amazing writer @angel-writes-skz-here , I hope you have a good one 🤍

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You couldn’t name the exact moment it started.

Maybe it was the first time he pulled you into his hoodie on a rainy night, both of you soaked and breathless, laughing like fools under the yellow haze of a streetlight. Or maybe it was the way he always looked for you in a crowded room with that quiet glance, like the world only made sense if you were in it.

You’d been friends for years. That kind of closeness that lived in the small things — sharing earbuds in public, finishing each other’s snacks without asking, sleeping back-to-back during long movie marathons. No boundaries. No questions. It was never weird. Never talked about.

You told people you were best friends. They never believed you.

“Are you sure you’re not dating?”

“You two act like an old married couple.”

You’d laugh it off. So would he. Because it wasn’t like that. Not really.

Except, it kind of was. Wasn’t it?

You never flirted — not outright. But he’d rest his head in your lap when he was tired. You’d trace shapes into the fabric of his sleeve when you were bored. He’d call you at 2 a.m. just to ask what you thought happened to the dinosaurs. You’d pick up every time.

You didn’t think anything of it. Until one night, you did.

You were both lying on his floor, backs against the carpet, the ceiling spinning just a little from too much soda and too much sugar. He was telling you about his latest sketch — how he couldn’t get the shading right on this one figure, how the shoulders kept coming out wrong.

“I should just scrap the whole thing,” he murmured, one hand behind his head, the other gesturing vaguely. “Start over.”

You looked over at him. His hair was sticking out at different angles from him running his fingers through it repeatedly. His voice was low, softer than usual. You noticed the curve of his mouth when he was lost in thought.

And for some reason, your chest ached.

It came fast, like a breath you weren’t ready to take. Like something you’d been holding back for a long time without realizing.

You didn’t say anything. Just turned your head away and stared at the ceiling again, willing the feeling to pass. It didn’t.

That was the moment.

That was when everything shifted — quietly, almost cruelly. No fireworks. No drama. Just a slow, unbearable awareness that you wanted more than he was willing to give. That you’d fallen in love with the one person who would never love you back.

Because Hyunjin didn’t believe in love. Not anymore.

“Love’s a mess,” he’d told you once. “It makes people selfish. Desperate. I don’t want that again.”

You’d nodded. Agreed. Back then, it was easy. Back then, you believed him.

But now? Now you were lying awake at night, wondering if the way he held your wrist a little too long meant anything. If the way he leaned his head on your shoulder when he was tired was just a habit, or something more. If you were imagining it all.

Because the truth was, he still looked at you like you were his favorite person in the world. He just didn’t look at you like someone he could fall in love with.

And that hurt more than anything.

You told yourself it was still the same. That the late-night phone calls didn’t mean more. That the way he let his head fall against your shoulder when he was tired was just muscle memory. That the things he said, “No one gets me like you do”, “You’re the only person I can be like this with”, weren’t confessions. Just friendship.

You lied to yourself a lot these days. Because Hyunjin was still Hyunjin. Thoughtless in the way he touched, soft in the way he lingered. He didn’t think twice before pulling you into a hug that lasted too long. Didn’t hesitate to rest his chin on your shoulder while brushing his teeth beside you in the mirror. You were just his person. The one who knew his favorite ramen flavor, the only one he let read his notebooks when he got too deep in his head. The one he curled around like a cat on cold mornings, blanket tangled between your legs.

It was never meant to be anything else.

Except now, every time his fingers brushed your skin, it felt like a match struck against your nerves.

You’d flinch — not outwardly, but inside, something always jumped. And he never noticed. Never looked twice.

You got good at pretending. That was your new talent. Smiling through the heat that bloomed in your chest. Holding your breath when he leaned in too close. Laughing like you weren’t falling in love with every little thing he didn’t realize he was doing.

Like now.

You were in the passenger seat of his car, driving home from some late-night errand getting snacks and candles and that moisturizer he liked but could never find. The sky outside was ink-black, the city glowing in fragments through the windshield. Music played low, something dreamy, ambient. A D4VD song you didn’t know the name of.

He was humming under his breath, his voice soft, almost boyish in the quiet.

You had your legs crossed loosely, skirt riding a little high on your thighs, but you didn’t think much of it. Not until Hyunjin’s hand left the gear shift, moved lazily to rest on your leg — light, like it always was. Familiar. Careless.

Except this time, it was your bare thigh.

Warm skin against warm skin. His fingertips just resting there, unconscious and unbothered. A touch he’d done a hundred times before.

But never like this.

You froze.

Not visibly. You kept your face turned toward the window, your mouth pulling into a soft smile at something he said, something you didn’t even hear.

The movement of the car made it worse. Every bump in the road sent a subtle shift through your body, the light drag of his hand against your skin, knuckles grazing higher, then settling again. Not intentionally. He wasn’t even aware.

But it lit something low in your stomach. That terrible, quiet ache.

You stared out the window like it was the most fascinating view in the world. Said nothing. Didn’t breathe too deeply.

Because the moment you acknowledged it, you knew the spell would break. Or worse — you’d say something you couldn’t take back.

And Hyunjin? He just kept driving, humming softly. Like his touch didn’t burn you alive.

He didn’t move his hand from your thigh until his phone buzzed in the console.

He shifted just enough to check it, eyes flicking down, the glow of the screen lighting up his face in the dark. His hand left your skin. You exhaled silently.

“Jisung’s throwing a party tomorrow night,” he said, like nothing strange had happened. “Wants us to come.”

You blinked, still trying to breathe like a normal person. “Yeah,” you said quickly. “Let’s go.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

But it stayed with you long after you went home. Long after you’d changed into pajamas and buried yourself beneath your sheets and stared up at the ceiling, your skin still tingling where his hand had been. You tried not to read into it. Failed spectacularly.

Because no matter how many times you told yourself it was meaningless — just Hyunjin being Hyunjin — it never felt that way to you.

—

The next night, you dressed slowly.

You didn’t mean to try so hard. You didn’t. But your hands lingered over the soft hem of your dress, your eyes scanning your reflection for anything he might notice. Anything that might make him look twice. Foolish, you told yourself. You knew better. But the hope was a quiet thing, and it didn’t ask permission to bloom.

Hyunjin picked you up just past nine. Same lazy smile. “You look nice,” he said, like it was routine.

You tried not to die inside.

Jisung’s place was already full when you arrived, warm lights, loud music, the living room packed with bodies and laughter. Familiar faces from old parties, new people you didn’t care to know. You stuck close to Hyunjin at first, the way you always did. It wasn’t even a choice anymore, he was your orbit.

There were games going on. Stupid things. Seven minutes in heaven, truth or dare, couples kissing in the middle of dares they barely flinched at. It was messy and loud and full of things you tried not to want.

Hyunjin settled next to you on the couch, thigh pressed to yours. His arm draped along the back, fingers grazing your shoulder every now and then. He smelled like cedarwood and clean laundry. You tried not to lean in.

“Couples are so annoying,” Jisung said from across the room, groaning theatrically as two people fawned all over each other. “Get a room, Jesus.”

Hyunjin snorted beside you. “Seriously. They look insane.”

The words stabbed a little harder than they should’ve.

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Your chest felt tight. Maybe it was the noise, or the room, or just him — sitting there beside you like he wasn’t everything you wanted. Like he hadn’t just reminded you, again, that you’d never be it for him.

Because Hyunjin didn’t do love. He didn’t want it. Not from anyone.

And especially not from you.

You looked away. Reached for a cup you hadn’t planned on drinking from.

The first shot burned your throat.

The second made you laugh too loud at something that wasn’t funny.

The third — well, you didn’t remember pouring it.

By the time the music blurred into static and the room tipped slightly when you stood, your head was full of him. His hand on your leg. His voice saying “They look insane.” The way he smiled like nothing between you had ever been dangerous.

You drank because it was easier than feeling.

Hyunjin had stopped drinking long ago. You saw him watching you. Concern flickered in his eyes every time you reached for another glass. You ignored him. You were good at that, too.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said finally, coming over and gently prying the cup from your fingers. “Let’s go home.”

You blinked up at him, a little dazed. “What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

His hand slipped around your wrist firmly. His touch was always gentle when it came to you. It hurt more that way.

You didn’t protest when he guided you out, his hand never leaving yours. Not until you stepped into the night and the air bit at your skin and your head started to clear just enough to feel everything again.

The ache. The longing. The quiet devastation of wanting someone who would never want you back.

—

You sat slumped against the passenger window, forehead pressed to the cool glass, trying not to think about the way his hand brushed yours when he helped you into the car. How it had lingered — warm, steady, a little too close to deliberate. Like he’d meant to pull you in and then remembered who you were.

Almost.

Outside, the city passed in slow, sleepy streaks. Warm golds. Faded greys. The world felt quieter than it should’ve, your heartbeat too loud against the hush of his playlist humming in the background. Neither of you spoke.

You didn’t trust your voice not to crack if you did.

When he pulled up outside your building, the engine ticked into silence, and for a beat too long, neither of you moved.

You shifted. “You don’t have to walk me up.”

“I know.” But he came anyway.

The elevator was a closed box of silence. Your floor blinked past in soft dings, but you barely registered them. You were too aware of him, the heat of his body beside you, the clean scent of his cologne, the way his hand brushed the small of your back when you stepped out, so light you almost convinced yourself you imagined it.

Your fingers fumbled with the keys. Wine still in your blood. Nerves screaming under your skin. The key missed the lock once — twice — before Hyunjin reached forward, curling his hand around your wrist.

“Hey,” he murmured. “I got it.”

It wasn’t the touch that undid you. It was how long he held it. How gentle. How it felt like he wanted to stay close.

Like maybe he didn’t hate how your skin felt, even if he didn’t want to need it.

The door clicked open. You stepped inside. He followed without asking. Like always.

And maybe it was the way the light fell soft against his jaw, or the fact that your mouth still tasted like longing, or the weight of his hand still echoing against your wrist — but suddenly you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Do you really think love is a mistake?”

He turned toward you. Brow faintly drawn. “What?”

You swallowed. Closed the door behind you. “At the party. When Jisung was making fun of couples. You said they looked stupid. You meant it, didn’t you?”

He stared at you for a long moment. Long enough to make the air feel heavy.

Then he crossed the room, leaned against your kitchen counter, arms folding across his chest like armor. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I meant it.”

You waited. He didn’t elaborate.

“Why?” you asked.

His jaw tightened. He rubbed the back of his neck — a nervous habit — like he was trying to chase something out of his own skin. “Because love ruins things,” he said, low and bitter. “Because people say forever and leave the second it gets hard. Because I’ve already been that idiot once and it fucking broke me.”

The words were sharp. Not at you but still, they cut.

“I’m not people, Hyunjin.”

That made him pause.

His gaze lifted. Locked on yours. And for the first time that night, he looked at you. Not past you. Not through you. At you — like he was seeing something he hadn’t let himself see before.

His voice came out rough. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That thing where you make it sound like you could be different.”

“Maybe I could be.”

His shoulders tensed. You took a step closer.

“I’ve been here,” you said softly. “Every time. No matter what mood you’re in. No matter how much you push.”

“Because you’re my best friend.”

“I know.” Your voice cracked a little. “But still, you let me in. You always do.”

He didn’t speak.

You took another step.

“You touch me like it means something,” you whispered. “And maybe it doesn’t. Maybe I’m just reading into things I shouldn’t. But I wish—”

You stopped. Bit back the words.

“I wish you didn’t make it so easy to love you.”

That hit.

You saw it. The way his eyes flickered. The way his lips parted like he was about to say something he’d regret.

The space between you throbbed.

He stepped toward you — slow, hesitant — until he was close enough to reach. Close enough that you felt the warmth of his breath. His gaze dropped, lingered on your mouth.

He didn’t kiss you. But he didn’t walk away either.

Your name left his lips, soft and broken. A whisper edged in something dangerous.

You blinked, swallowed hard, then stepped back. Too fast.

“Forget it,” you murmured. “I’m tired.”

“Wait—”

But you were already turning, already walking toward your bedroom, away from the crash you almost let happen.

And Hyunjin stood in your kitchen hands clenched, jaw tight, chest heaving like he’d just realized something he wasn’t ready to admit. Still he didn’t follow.

—

You woke up with the taste of regret clinging to your tongue.

Your head pounded, the dull throb blooming behind your eyes as sunlight bled through your curtains too brightly. Your throat was dry, your limbs a little heavy, like your body was punishing you for last night’s stupidity.

And then it hit you.

Not the headache. Not the dehydration.

The memory.

Your breath stalled. You shot upright, the sheets tangling around your legs like they were trying to drag you back under. You’d said it. You actually said it. Out loud. To him. In your kitchen. With your hair a mess and wine swimming in your veins.

“I wish you didn’t make it so easy to love you.”

You groaned — loud and pathetic — and shoved your face into your hands. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Your chest tightened. Your stomach churned. You pulled at your hair like it might jolt the moment out of your skull, erase the words, roll back the clock. But they were still there, echoing through your skull like a song you couldn’t shut off.

You checked your phone. Nothing from him. Not a single text. No call. Not even a stupid meme, which he always sent after parties, something about how hard he’d regretted leaving the house, or how gross drunk people were.

But this time? Radio silence.

You paced. You spiraled. You considered deleting your entire existence and moving to another continent. Maybe start a new life with a new name. Somewhere snowy. Somewhere far from boys with lazy grins and hands that rest too casually on your thigh.

God, his hand.

You let out a strangled sound, turned on your heel, and marched toward the kitchen. You needed water. Or coffee. Or a time machine.

You rounded the corner—and screamed.

Hyunjin was standing by your counter.

Barefoot. Hair a mess. Same hoodie from last night slouched off one shoulder, like he’d never left.

Because he hadn’t.

Your heart slammed against your ribs. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He didn’t flinch. “I couldn’t leave.”

You blinked. Words stuttering behind your lips. “You—? What?”

“I tried. I got as far as the door.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, jaw tight. “But I couldn’t go.”

You stared at him, throat closing around a dozen questions you were too afraid to ask.

His voice was quieter now. “We need to talk.”

And just like that, the hangover didn’t matter anymore.

You swallowed. The air between you shifted, dense and sharp like a wire pulled too tight. “Right. Um. Okay.”

You backed toward the fridge like the moment might forget you existed if you just kept moving. Pulled open the door. Grabbed the water bottle. Avoided his eyes.

He didn’t speak. Just watched you — heavy, unmoving, arms folded across his chest like a barricade.

You unscrewed the cap. Took a long drink. Cleared your throat. “About last night…”

His gaze didn’t waver.

You smiled shaky and rehearsed. “I was so drunk. I barely remember anything.”

A beat passed.

He blinked once. Slowly. “You don’t remember.”

“Not really, no.”

“Nothing at all?”

You gave a small, helpless laugh. “I mean, bits and pieces. I was clearly talking nonsense—”

“Right,” he cut in. “Nonsense.”

He turned his head then, jaw flexing. Something sharp flashed through his expression, not hurt or disbelief but something closer to anger.

Your stomach dipped and you shifted on your feet. “I just didn’t want to make things weird between us.”

“Well, too late for that,” he said, voice tight.

You blinked. “Hyunjin—”

He took a step toward you.

Your breath caught.

He tilted his head slightly, dark eyes narrowing. “So let me get this straight. You weren’t confessing anything. You didn’t mean any of it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, you said you don’t remember.” He moved again. Another step. “You’re saying I made it up?”

“That’s not—”

“You’re saying I imagined the way your voice shook when you said you loved me?”

You froze.

He kept going. Low. Dangerous. Closer.

“You’re saying my touch doesn’t affect you?”

You flinched.

“Doesn’t make you forget what you’re saying, what you’re doing, who you’re trying so hard to be?”

His hand lifted slowly and deliberately brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Just the pads of his fingers, soft and reverent, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to touch you or punish you with it.

You didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

His voice was barely a whisper now. “Tell me I made it up.”

You couldn’t. Because you didn’t.

And he knew that. Every inch of him — from the tight line of his shoulders to the way his mouth hovered just shy of yours — was daring you to keep lying.

And you couldn’t do it. Not when your whole body was already leaning into the gravity of him.

Not when every second of silence stretched the ache between you like a fuse begging to be lit.

You didn’t mean to touch him. Your hand just moved on its own — curled gently over his chest like it could quiet the tremble beneath your skin. He was so close now, heat radiating off him like a fever, like fire, and you were drowning in it.

And then he pulled you in.

A sharp inhale caught in your throat as his hands slid around your waist. His grip wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t soft either, it was firm. Steady. Like he wasn’t letting go, even if he should.

He stared down at you, the weight of his gaze unbearable. Like he could read every word you hadn’t said. Like your silence was loud.

You didn’t know what to do with the way he looked at you.

You didn’t know what to do with the way your body ached to close the last inch.

His mouth was right there, full and parted, breath fanning across your cheek like a dare. You felt the heat blooming in your chest, your stomach, the place between your thighs. You weren’t breathing. Couldn’t.

“Are you ready to talk now?” he asked, voice thick, jaw tight.

The spell shattered like glass between you.

You pulled back. Just barely. Not enough to escape, only to feel the sudden absence of the moment you were about to break into.

Your throat burned. “Do we have to?”

He didn’t smile. “Yes.”

You stepped back, just enough for air, for distance, even if it felt like a wound. He let you go. Slowly. Like it hurt him too.

You moved to the couch, legs folding under you like your bones forgot how to hold your weight. Hyunjin stayed standing for a moment, then sat beside you but far enough to be polite and close enough to make your chest ache.

He spoke first.

“I don’t do love,” he said, low and flat. “Not anymore.”

You stared at your hands. “I know.”

“I’m not built for it. I ruin people. I ruin things that matter.”

“You don’t ruin—”

He cut you off. “I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught.

He looked at you then — really looked. Like he was begging you to understand the truth behind the cruelty. “If we cross that line and it goes wrong, we don’t come back from it. And I’d rather die than lose what we have.”

You swallowed hard. “Hyunjin—”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you’re serious.” Your voice cracked. “That’s the problem.”

He went quiet.

You stared at the floor, eyes glassy, throat burning. “Do you think I wanted this?”

He flinched.

“I didn’t plan to fall for you. I wasn’t sitting around plotting the day I’d mess up our friendship and destroy every ounce of peace I have with you.”

He looked at you then, expression unreadable.

“If I hadn’t been drunk last night, you would’ve never even known. I would’ve buried it like I’ve been doing for months. I would’ve pretended I was fine.”

He said nothing.

“And now I wish I had. I wish I could take it back. Not the feelings—” your voice broke, “but the part where you know.”

Silence pressed down like a weight.

You thought maybe, maybe he’d soften now. Maybe he’d say it was okay, that he understood.

But his jaw clenched. His fists tightened.

“Right,” he said, voice sharp. “So the part you regret is that I know. That’s what’s unbearable.”

You blinked. “That’s not what I meant—”

He stood suddenly, pacing now. Anger clinging to every movement. “You think I wanted to know that last night? You think I haven’t spent months trying to unsee the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching?”

You went still.

He continued, voice low, rough with something too bitter to name. “Do you think I haven’t wanted you?”

Silence. Heavy. Deadly.

“Because I have,” he whispered. “And it scared the shit out of me.”

Hyunjin didn’t look at you when he had started talking. He stood in the center of your living room, hands restless at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. Like if he looked at you, really looked, the whole damn thing would collapse.

“I didn’t want it to get this far,” he said quietly. “Not because I didn’t feel it. God, that’s the problem. I did.”

You froze.

“I thought I could control it,” he went on, still not meeting your eyes. “That if I ignored it long enough, if I kept the lines blurry but just on the edge, I could trick myself out of wanting more.”

You couldn’t breathe.

“I used to tell myself you didn’t feel it back. That it was just me being stupid. Needy. Fucking reckless.” He exhaled like the words had been clawing at his throat. “But it was easier when I could lie to myself. When I thought you didn’t want me.”

Your heart cracked open.

“I’ve ruined things before,” he said. “I’ve crossed lines and lost people and ended up with nothing but memories I can’t even look at without feeling sick. And this—” His voice caught. “You’re not just anyone. You’re you. If I lose you—”

He broke off. Finally looked at you.

“And now I know you feel it too,” he said, softer this time. “And that makes it worse. Because now I don’t have an excuse. Now it’s not just me risking everything, it’s you, and if this goes sideways, I don’t know if I can survive it.”

You didn’t speak. You just watched him, the slope of his shoulders, the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes gave him away even when his mouth tried to bury the truth.

He still thought he was protecting you.

But it was too late for that. You were already in it, knee-deep in the ache of wanting him, the mess of loving him when you weren’t supposed to. And now you knew he’d been there too, quietly drowning beside you.

You stepped toward him.

His breath hitched.

Another step.

He went quiet, eyes tracking your every move like he couldn’t believe it was happening.

“I just—” he started, but the words faltered. His gaze dropped to your mouth. “I’m trying to explain—”

You didn’t let him. You reached for him, hands slipping up his chest and then, without giving him time to overthink it, you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

Softly.

His whole body went still.

Then, slowly, like gravity was always going to win, his hands found your waist and pulled you in.

The moment your lips touched his again, something broke. Not like a door creaking open — no, it splintered, cracked wide with the force of everything you both had kept buried. All the pretending. All the tension. All the times his hand lingered too long or his eyes dropped to your lips before he looked away. All of it, gone.

Hyunjin kissed you back like he’d been starving for it. His hands gripped your waist like they didn’t trust you to stay. His mouth slanted over yours, greedy, all tongue and heat and breath. He backed you into the wall without thinking, your spine pressing into it as he kissed you harder, deeper, like you were something he’d gone too long without and wasn’t sure he’d ever get again.

You moaned into his mouth and felt him shudder.

It wasn’t gentle. Nothing about it was. His hands moved — down, around, up again — like he couldn’t figure out where he needed to touch you first. Like he wanted to touch all of you at once. And when you tugged at his shirt, he gasped against your lips, forehead dropping to yours for just a second before he dragged you right back in.

“I shouldn’t,” he whispered, the words barely making it out between kisses. “Fuck— I shouldn’t be doing this.”

But his mouth didn’t stop. Neither did yours.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugged — and he groaned, low and wrecked, and kissed you like the world was ending. Like this was the last chance he’d ever get and he had to make it count. Your thigh brushed his hip, and his hand dropped low, pulling you closer, flush against him. You felt all of it. The tension, the heat, the way his body trembled like he was about to fall apart.

And maybe he was.

Because this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t safe or careful or quiet.

This was everything.

You didn’t care. You didn’t want safe. You wanted him. Wanted every part of him he tried to hide, every buried glance and stolen moment and terrified truth. And now that you had it — had him — there was no pretending anymore.

He kissed you like he finally understood that. And still, it wasn’t enough

His lips dragged down your jaw, bruising kisses pressed beneath your ear, and you felt the words before you heard them — breathless and shaken.

“Tell me to stop.”

His voice cracked as he said it. Like it cost him everything just to get the words out.

“Tell me to walk away right now, and I will.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

“I’m serious,” he said again, softer now, forehead pressed to your neck like he couldn’t bear to look at you. His hands trembled where they gripped your waist. “Just say the word. Please. Before we—before I ruin everything.”

And maybe in another life, you would’ve. Maybe if his touch didn’t feel like home and every kiss didn’t feel like a promise he’d been aching to keep, you would’ve saved him. Saved yourself.

But you didn’t want saving.

You wanted him.

So you reached for his face, made him look at you — really look at you — and you said it like a vow.

“I want you, Hyunjin.”

He flinched like it hurt to hear.

You stepped closer anyway, your voice a whisper against his lips.

“We won’t ruin anything,” you promised, fingers threading into his hair. “Not if you just let me love you. Not if you just let it happen.”

Something snapped in him and then he was on you. Mouth claiming yours, teeth catching your bottom lip before he groaned deep in his throat and kissed you like he’d been waiting. Like this was a secret he’d never meant to let slip, and now that he had, he needed every part of you to make sense of it.

You didn’t stand a chance. His hands were under your shirt before you could blink, fingers mapping your skin like he was desperate to learn it by heart. Clothes tugged off, your top discarded, his shirt thrown to the floor. Every inch of newly bared skin ignited under his touch. Your skirt bunched at your hips, and the moment his hand slid between your thighs, you nearly sobbed.

“Fuck—” he hissed, mouth dragging down your neck. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You did. You felt it. Pressed up against you, hard and pulsing through the thin fabric of his sweats. He rocked into you once, and your knees buckled. His arms caught you before you fell.

He carried you like you weighed nothing.

You didn’t remember how you got to the couch. Just his mouth, hot and everywhere, and the way he settled you beneath him, eyes dark with something between reverence and hunger. You weren’t trembling — you were shaking.

“Are you sure?” he asked, hovering above you, voice wrecked. “Tell me now, and I’ll stop. I swear.”

You cupped his cheek. Pulled him down until your lips were brushing his.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You felt the way that shattered him.

A ragged breath left his lips, and something raw crossed his face — awe, hunger, need. And then he kissed you. Deep and dizzying. No more hesitation. No more holding back. Just Hyunjin tasting your mouth like he’d starved for it, like he was finally allowed to be greedy.

His hands were everywhere, cradling your jaw, skimming down your ribs, tugging your skirt up your thighs until it bunched around your waist. When his fingers slipped beneath your panties, finding you slick and already throbbing, he moaned like it physically hurt him to touch you.

“Fuck… you’re already so wet,” he breathed, forehead pressed to yours. “Did I do that?”

You nodded, barely able to form words.

“Hyun…”

“Say it again,” he murmured, fingers parting your folds, dragging over your clit in slow, teasing circles. “Say my name like that.”

You gasped, hips arching into his touch. “Hyunjin—”

He groaned. “God, you’re gonna kill me.”

Then he was trailing down your body, kissing a path from your chest to your stomach, his hands anchoring your thighs as he sank to his knees on the floor. You propped yourself up on your elbows, breath caught in your throat.

He hooked your panties to the side and just… looked. Like you were art. Like he’d dreamed of this exact moment and couldn’t believe it was real.

And then his mouth was on you. Hot. Wet. Relentless. His tongue lapped through your folds, slow and sinful, before wrapping around your clit and sucking hard. Your head fell back with a cry, fingers flying to his hair, but he just groaned against you, the vibration making you choke on a moan.

“Shit—Hyunjin, oh my god—”

He didn’t stop. If anything, he got hungrier. Dipping his tongue into your entrance, fucking you with it, then dragging it back up to flick over your clit until your thighs were shaking.

When your hips bucked up too hard, he gripped your thighs tighter and held you down, his shoulders braced against your legs to keep you from moving.

“You’re gonna cum for me,” he muttered against you, voice thick and dark. “On my tongue. I’ve wanted this for so fucking long—”

You were already there.

Your back arched, mouth falling open in a silent scream as the orgasm hit you like a wave crashing down. He kept licking through it, eyes locked on your face like he needed to see you fall apart.

When you finally collapsed back against the couch, breathless and wrecked, he crawled back up your body and kissed you, slow and filthy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You good?” he asked, voice a rasp in your ear.

You blinked at him. “Are you?”

He gave a breathless laugh and looked down between you. “Not even close.”

You hadn’t even realized he’d stripped out of his sweats. His cock was flushed, thick, and straining with need — and he was still trying to hold back.

That wouldn’t do.

You reached for him, but he caught your hand and kissed your fingers before pushing them away. Then he grabbed your thighs, spreading you wider, and hooked your legs over his shoulders. The position left you bare and open and trembling.

His eyes burned into yours.

“I need you to look at me when I fuck you.”

Then he pressed forward. The first inch made your breath catch , too much, too deep, but you didn’t look away. Neither did he.

“Fuck—” he gritted out, his hips pushing forward in slow, agonizing inches until he was fully inside, stretching you open, filling you to the hilt. “You feel like heaven. Like you were made for me.”

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Just him, inside you, looking at you like this was his last wish granted.

And then he moved. He pulled out and sank back in, hard and deep, your legs folded up on his shoulders, the angle hitting something devastating. Your moan broke halfway out as he picked up a rhythm, hips snapping forward, each thrust driving the air from your lungs.

“Tell me you want this,” he said, voice tight. “Tell me this isn’t just in my head.”

“I want you,” you gasped. “As real as it can get—always.”

That undid him. His hand slid between your bodies, thumb finding your clit again as he fucked you deeper, harder. The couch creaked under you, the heat between your bodies suffocating. You could barely hold on, could barely keep your eyes open.

And then you came again, harder this time. Shaking, crying out his name, nails raking down his back as you clung to him. He followed seconds later, hips jerking, his face buried in your neck as he came with a broken groan, body tense and shuddering above you.

For a long time, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing and the soft, desperate way he kissed your shoulder.

Then his voice, hoarse in your ear.

“We’re so fucked.”

And you smiled, wrecked and radiant.

“I know.”

—

You didn’t know how long you stayed tangled like that. Your legs still draped over his hips, his chest rising and falling against yours, sweat cooling between your bodies. The air was heavy with the scent of sex and everything unspoken.

Hyunjin’s fingers trailed gently over your hip, then your stomach, then the side of your throat like he was relearning every inch of you now that he didn’t have to pretend he hadn’t imagined this a thousand times before.

Then he kissed you, not with hunger this time, but like he’d been waiting years to kiss you soft.

“You okay?” he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, brushing your nose against his.

“More than okay.”

His eyes searched your face, like he was trying to commit you to memory all over again.

“We should get you cleaned up,” he whispered. “You’re all sticky.”

You let him carry you to the bathroom.

He set you on the counter first and helped you undress fully, stealing kisses as he did, his hands so gentle now, like he didn’t want to miss a moment of touching you like this. He peeled your underwear down slowly, kissed your thighs. His eyes flicked down between your legs — red, sensitive, swollen from what they’d done.

A blush climbed your neck.

But he just smiled, warm and a little dazed.

“I like seeing you like this,” he said quietly. “All wrecked from me.”

The shower was hot and full of steam. He let you step in first, then wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as the water ran over both of you.

Neither of you talked much. Just small sounds. Little laughs. The soft lather of his hands running over your arms, your back, your chest.

When you turned to face him, water dripping down your hair and cheeks, he stared at you like you were made of gold.

“I still feel like I’m dreaming,” he said. “I’ve wanted this for so long, I don’t know how to believe it’s real.”

You touched his face. “It’s real.”

He leaned into your palm.

“Then say it again.”

You blinked. “Say what?”

“Those three words.” His voice cracked a little. “Just once more. Please.”

Your heart stuttered.

You stood on your toes and kissed him, slow and tender, water slipping between your mouths. When you pulled back, you looked him straight in the eyes.

“I love you.”

Hyunjin exhaled like you’d knocked the wind out of him. His arms wrapped tighter around your waist, like if he didn’t hold you closer he might fall apart.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “God, I love you so much it fucking hurts.”

And then he was kissing you again. Not frantic — not this time. Just deep, adoring, like he finally knew what home tasted like.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Authors note: Everyone please say happy birthday to Angel @angel-writes-skz-here ! Thanks for organizing this fun event, I need you guys to check the Event Masterlist for the other stories! Mine was based on the song DLMLU, i hope i captured it well 🥹❤️

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki @justwonder113 @mbioooo0000 @sammhisphere @nebugalaxy @cutecucumberkimberly @chancloud8

[keepmetogether]

A huge thank you to whoever encouraged 2mins duet or else we would still have the divorced concept 🙌

I'll forever miss you cinema live version

I hope 2min continue being close even though dominate tour is over 🙏

[keepmetogether]

first taylor and now stray kids how do I keep becoming a fan of artists who have 130325 easter eggs in everything they do????

IM NOT SMART ENOUGH TO NOTICE/FIND EASTER EGGS 😂

I saw this tiktok of someone who found all these easter eggs in the karma trailer and my brain went now how does someone notice all these in the first place????

[keepmetogether]

2 Kids Room: “More Than Music” – Special 9 Members Episode

Link to the request

one-shot |

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader (poly-ish vibes, no explicit labels though )

Genre:angst(lots of it),pure fluff at the end

Warnings: Emotional moments, subtle intimacy, complex feelings, mentions of vulnerability and jealousy

a/n: I honestly spent a good chunk of time rewriting this one. It was supposed to be a quick headcanon or drabble, but then the idea of a SKZ Two Kids Room-style format hit me (thank you, Seungmin, I guess?). I’m not completely happy with how it turned out — you know when something feels almost right but not quite? Yeah, that.

300 followers event

Filmed: August 2024

Runtime: 1:14:03

Location: Stray Kids Dorm, Living Room

🎥 Opening Shot: The camera pans over the dorm’s living room — someone forgot to clean. Blankets on the floor. Half-empty ramen cups. A dog toy (not theirs). The whiteboard from Chan’s last brainstorming session still says “BANG CHAN’S HOT SAUCE IDEA???” in all caps.

🎙️ Voiceover (Felix):

“Okay… this one’s going to be different. You’re gonna cry. Maybe. But in a good way.”

⸻

🎬 [00:00 – 05:42] – CHAN & [Y/N]

The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. Chan sits close to [Y/N] on the worn couch. He’s fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt. She looks down, fingers twisting together.

Chan:“When you first came… I don’t think any of us wanted you here.”

[Y/N]: (softly, voice barely above a whisper)

“I didn’t want to be here either.”

Chan: (his voice breaks slightly)“We’d just lost someone — someone close. And then, suddenly, there was you. Someone new. Younger, smaller than even Jeongin… And honestly, it felt like another loss waiting to happen.”

[Y/N]: (tears threatening)“I remember the way you all looked at me. Like I was a mistake. Like I didn’t belong.”

Chan: (his eyes dropping)“I’m sorry. We were scared. Scared that you’d break like we did. And scared that maybe, letting you in meant losing what little we had left.”

[Y/N]:“I kept trying to be strong… to prove I deserved to stay. I danced harder, sang louder. But every night, I was falling apart inside.”

Chan: (voice catching)“I saw you alone in the practice room, sometimes crying quietly when no one was watching.”

[Y/N]: (nods, voice shaking)“I was so tired. So tired of feeling like I had to be perfect for all of you. But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to belong.”

Chan:“There was a night I stayed behind just to watch you. You didn’t know I was there. You were so fragile, and yet, you kept going.”

He reaches out, taking her hand gently.

Chan:“I wanted to tell you it was okay to fall. That you didn’t have to carry it all alone.”

[Y/N]: (voice cracking)“I thought if I stopped, you’d all reject me. But then… I realized maybe you were just as scared as I was.”

Chan: (voice thick with emotion)“We were. But you made us braver. You made us face everything we’d been hiding.”

[Y/N]: (a small, grateful smile)“I never wanted to be just ‘the new girl.’ I wanted to be family.”

Chan: (nods slowly)“And now, you are. More than that. You’re the reason we’re still standing.”

———

🎬 [05:43 – 10:12] – MINHO & [Y/N]

Minho sits cross-legged on the floor, leaning forward, eyes sharp but flickering with something vulnerable. [Y/N] is nearby, nervously biting her lip as she listens.

Minho:“I wasn’t ready for you. Not then. When you joined, I thought—” (pauses, searching) “I thought you were some kind of replacement. Like we were trying to fix something that didn’t want to be fixed.”

[Y/N]: (quietly)“I felt it. The way you looked at me. Like I was breaking your world.”

Minho: (voice tight)“Maybe I was scared. Scared that you’d change everything we’d built. That you’d break the fragile balance.”

[Y/N]:“I wasn’t trying to break anything. I just wanted to survive.”

Minho: (his jaw clenches)“But survival meant being loud, being perfect. And sometimes, I snapped at you.”

[Y/N]: (eyes shimmering)“You told me to smile less. Like if I smiled less, I’d disappear.”

Minho: (voice softens)“I was angry at everything — at change, at loss, at myself. You were just… easy to blame.”

[Y/N]: (tears threatening)“I was so tired of pretending. Of fighting for a place that felt like it wasn’t mine.”

Minho: (looks away, then back)“There was one night during rehearsal. You lost it — snapped at me. Not like before, when you’d stay quiet. You just… exploded.”

[Y/N]: (nods, voice small)“I was breaking. I thought you’d hate me.”

Minho: (quietly, almost a whisper)“I didn’t. For the first time, I saw you. Not the ‘perfect’ new member, but you. All the pain, all the fear.”

[Y/N]:“That moment changed everything. I wanted to give up, but you didn’t let me.”

Minho: (voice rough)“I wish I had been kinder sooner. I wish I’d helped catch you before you fell.”

They sit in silence, the weight of past mistakes hanging heavy but real.

Minho: (finally, a softer tone)“You didn’t break my world. You saved it.”

———

🎬 [14:49 – 18:30] – HAN & [Y/N]

Jisung is fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie, knees tucked to his chest on the couch. [Y/N] sits beside him, a pillow in her lap, eyes gentle but wary. The room feels a little colder during this one.

Han:“You annoyed me so much when you got here.”

[Y/N]: (half-laughs, half-sighs)“Yeah. You made that very clear.”

Han: (guilt flashes across his face)“I think I hated that you tried so hard. Like, you were so perfect all the time, and it felt fake. But now I know… it wasn’t fake. It was survival.”

[Y/N]: (nods slowly)“I thought if I messed up, even once, I’d be gone. I knew you didn’t want me.”

Han: (bitter laugh)“Yeah, and that made me hate myself more. Because watching you kill yourself to earn our approval — I knew it wasn’t fair. But I didn’t stop it.”

[Y/N]:“You ignored me for weeks.”

Han: (quietly)“I know. And I was jealous.”

[Y/N]: (blinks)“Jealous? Of me?”

Han:“You were strong. Even when we shut you out, you kept showing up. Kept giving. I… I didn’t know how to do that. So I made you the enemy.”

[Y/N]: (voice shaking)“There were nights I went home and cried so hard I couldn’t breathe. I thought maybe if I disappeared, you’d all feel better.”

Jisung’s face crumples. He swallows thickly and speaks barely above a whisper.

Han:“I used to hear you crying. In the dorm bathroom. I’d sit on the other side of the door, hating myself for not going in.”

[Y/N]: (eyes glassy)“I just wanted someone to care.”

Han:“I cared. I just… didn’t know how to show it without wrecking something.”

There’s a long pause. Then, he nudges her knee with his.

Han: (gently)“You wrecked me anyway. In a good way. You showed me what real strength looks like. Not stage strength. Heart strength.”

[Y/N]: (a tear slips down her cheek)“I was never trying to be strong. I was just trying to survive.”

Han: (smiling softly through glassy eyes)“And you did. And now… now you’re the reason a lot of us survived too.”

———

🎬 [18:31 – 23:15]– HYUNJIN & [Y/N]

Hyunjin sits with one leg folded beneath him, eyes distant but burning with memory. [Y/N] sits beside him, posture tight, like she’s bracing for something — though neither of them looks away.

Hyunjin:“I didn’t talk to you for the first three months.”

[Y/N]: (nods slowly)“I counted.”

Hyunjin: (laughs softly, bitterly)“Of course you did. I was cold. Worse than cold — I was cruel, but quiet about it. I made you invisible.”

[Y/N]: (whispers)“I felt it. Every time you walked out of the room when I entered. Every time you looked through me.”

Hyunjin:“I was grieving. But instead of dealing with it, I blamed you. You didn’t do anything wrong. But I thought if I resented you hard enough, maybe I wouldn’t miss what we lost.”

[Y/N]: (looking down)“I knew I was stepping into someone else’s space. I could feel it in the air.”

Hyunjin: (voice shaking slightly)“It wasn’t just that. You reminded me of everything I didn’t want to feel. You were bright — not because you were happy, but because you refused to be broken. That made me furious.”

[Y/N]: (softly)“I was broken. I just didn’t show it.”

Hyunjin: (voice lowers)“I saw it. Even when I pretended I didn’t. I’d catch you wiping tears in the practice room mirrors. You thought no one noticed.”

[Y/N]: (a tremble in her voice)“I wanted to disappear so badly. But something told me if I left, I’d never come back.”

Hyunjin reaches out without thinking, brushing a knuckle against her hand.

Hyunjin:“I didn’t want you to go. Even if I couldn’t admit it back then.”

[Y/N]:“Then why did it take so long for you to say something?”

Hyunjin: (voice cracking)“Because I was ashamed. I thought if I let myself get close, I’d betray the past. But you… you weren’t here to erase anything. You were just trying to exist.”

Silence settles, heavy but forgiving.

Hyunjin: (finally)“I started drawing you without realizing it. Your eyes. Your hands. The way you held everything in but still stood tall. You haunted me.”

[Y/N]: (a small, tearful smile)“And you scared me.”

Hyunjin: (smiling back, voice gentler now)

“Maybe we were scared of the same thing — how much we needed each other without even knowing it.”

—————

🎬 [23:16 – 27:59]– CHANGBIN & [Y/N]

Changbin sits stiffly at first, like he’s carrying something heavy. [Y/N] is cross-legged beside him, hands folded tightly in her lap. The silence between them is thick — not awkward, just full.

Changbin:

“I think I resented you the most.”

[Y/N]: (softly)

“I know.”

Changbin: (lets out a breath, almost a laugh but not quite)

“Great. So I wasn’t even subtle.”

[Y/N]: (smiles, barely)

“You didn’t look at me for two weeks after I moved into the dorm.”

Changbin: (nods)

“Yeah. I was angry. Not at you — I see that now. I was angry at everything. At the way things changed. At how fast it all happened. We lost a brother, and suddenly we were expected to be okay.”

[Y/N]: (voice low)

“I was terrified. I walked into that dorm thinking, None of them want me here. I thought you hated me.”

Changbin: (voice heavy)

“I did, for a while. Not because of who you were. Because you reminded me of what we lost — and the fact that we couldn’t stop losing.”

[Y/N]:

“I wasn’t trying to replace anyone. I couldn’t.”

Changbin: (gently, regretfully)

“I know that now. Back then, I didn’t want to know it. I wanted someone to blame for the fact that everything hurt.”

[Y/N]: (eyes glossy)

“There were nights I thought about leaving. Just… packing my things and disappearing. I didn’t want to be the reason the group fell apart.”

Changbin’s face twists. He leans forward, elbows on knees, voice breaking.

Changbin:

“Do you know the first time I realized how wrong I was?”

[Y/N]: (shakes her head)

“No.”

Changbin:

“You got hurt during practice. Twisted your ankle. Everyone panicked — but you still tried to keep going. I yelled at you. Hard. Told you to sit down, to stop pretending you weren’t in pain.”

[Y/N]:

“I thought you were mad again.”

Changbin:

“I wasn’t. I was scared. Seeing you hurt made something in me snap. Because suddenly, it wasn’t about losing the past. It was about not wanting to lose you.”

He looks up at her, eyes glassy now.

Changbin:

“You worked so hard to be part of us. And we just kept pushing you to the edge. You didn’t deserve that.”

[Y/N]: (a soft, sad smile)

“I wanted so badly for one of you to say I belonged.”

Changbin: (whispers)

“You did. You do. You always did — I was just too busy bleeding to see the hand reaching out to help me.”

He leans over, presses his forehead to her shoulder for a moment, silent.

Changbin:

“You didn’t ruin this group. You saved it. And me.”

———-

🎬 [28:00 – 33:47]– FELIX & [Y/N]

Felix is sitting close — not quite touching her, but close enough that their knees brush. He’s quiet for a long moment, staring at his hands like they hold a truth too delicate to drop. [Y/N] watches him, waiting, not pushing.

Felix:

“Do you remember Melbourne?”

[Y/N]: (soft smile)

“Of course.”

Felix: (his voice almost crumbles)

“You were in my hoodie. Your face was flushed, and your voice was gone from rehearsing too much. But you still showed up. You always did.”

[Y/N]:

“I didn’t want to fall behind.”

Felix: (soft, almost to himself)

“You were already ahead of us. In ways we didn’t want to admit.”

He glances up, eyes glassy. The air between them tightens.

Felix:

“I told you I loved you that night. Do you remember?”

[Y/N]: (quietly)

“I thought you were joking.”

Felix: (a laugh, sad and warm)

“I wasn’t. But I said it like I was. Because I didn’t think I was allowed to mean it.”

[Y/N]: (tears threaten, voice trembles)

“I didn’t think any of you saw me. Not really. And then you said that — and I didn’t know what to do with it.”

Felix:

“You looked so scared. I wanted to take it back. Not because it wasn’t true. But because you already carried so much, and I didn’t want to be another weight.”

[Y/N]:

“You weren’t. You were… the first time I felt like maybe this wasn’t just a job. That maybe I was something more than what I could do.”

Felix: (his voice breaks)

“I hated how quiet your pain was. How well you hid it. I used to watch you in the dressing rooms, putting on your makeup like armor. And I’d think — if I loved her loud enough, would she stop hurting so quietly?”

[Y/N]: (covers her face for a second, shaking with emotion)

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

Felix: (moves closer, voice barely a whisper)

“Because I didn’t think I deserved to. I wasn’t brave. I just… couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

He reaches over, takes her hand in both of his, small and trembling.

Felix:

“You made me feel things I didn’t have words for. You still do.”

[Y/N]: (through a broken laugh)

“You made me feel safe. Even when I didn’t believe I belonged here.”

Felix: (squeezes her hand gently)

“You do. You always did. I just said it first.”

—————

🎬 [33:48 – 38:02] – SEUNGMIN & [Y/N]

Seungmin sits neatly, arms loosely crossed. There’s a kind of stillness to him — the kind that makes [Y/N] lean in just a little, like she knows the calm is just a shield. They don’t speak for a moment. It’s not awkward. It’s just full.

Seungmin:

“I don’t think I ever told you what I really thought. Back then.”

[Y/N]: (nervously)

“I could guess.”

Seungmin: (exhales through his nose)

“I wasn’t mean to you, not really. But I wasn’t kind either. Not in the way you needed.”

[Y/N]:

“You were polite. Distant. Like I was a guest who overstayed.”

Seungmin: (nods, honest)

“That’s exactly what it was. You felt temporary to me. Not because you weren’t good — you were. But I didn’t let myself believe you’d stay.”

[Y/N]: (voice small)

“I didn’t know if I would.”

Seungmin:

“I watched you fight every single day. And still, I kept this… wall. Told myself not to get attached. Because every time we lost someone, it hurt more than the last.”

[Y/N]: (voice trembling)

“So you made sure not to need me.”

Seungmin: (a beat passes. Then:)

“I did need you. I just didn’t let myself admit it.”

He looks down, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch like it steadies him.

Seungmin:

“You’d laugh at someone’s joke and I’d feel… warm. Then guilty. Then nothing, because I made myself numb. That’s what I do. It’s easier that way.”

[Y/N]:

“You don’t cry when things hurt.”

Seungmin: (quietly)

“I cry when I’m alone.”

There’s a pause. Then she reaches over and places her hand over his — gentle, careful. He doesn’t move away.

Seungmin:

“I hated seeing you bend over backwards for our approval. It felt wrong. But I didn’t stop it. I didn’t protect you from the cold.”

[Y/N]:

“You were the one I tried the hardest with.”

Seungmin: (eyes lift, surprised)

“Why?”

[Y/N]: (shrugs)

“Because your silence hurt the most. It felt like it meant something. And I needed it to not.”

Seungmin: (voice cracks)

“I didn’t know how to show you that I cared. And by the time I realized I’d hurt you, I didn’t know how to undo it.”

[Y/N]: (smiling through her tears)

“You didn’t need to undo it. You just needed to stay. And you did.”

Seungmin: (softly)

“I see you now. I saw you then too, I just… didn’t want to feel it.”

[Y/N]:

“What do you feel now?”

Seungmin: (squeezes her hand)

“Grateful. Guilty. And something I’m still learning how to name. But it’s real.”

—————

🎬 [38:03 – 46:28]– JEONGIN & [Y/N]

Jeongin sits slouched, legs swinging slightly under the chair, like his body’s relaxed but his heart is still catching up. [Y/N] sits beside him, watching him with something between fondness and quiet ache. They were the youngest. That always meant something.

Jeongin:

“I didn’t like you at first.”

[Y/N]: (teasing)

“Wow. Strong opener.”

Jeongin: (smirks, then sobers)

“No, I mean it. Everyone kept saying I’d have someone younger to look after now. That I wouldn’t be the maknae anymore. And I hated that.”

[Y/N]: (gently)

“I didn’t want to take your place.”

Jeongin:

“I know. You didn’t try to. That’s what made it worse. You just… showed up. And you were talented. And kind. And lonely — and I still couldn’t be nice to you.”

[Y/N]: (quietly)

“You were the one I hoped would like me first.”

Jeongin: (his eyes dart to hers, voice small)

“Why?”

[Y/N]:

“Because I knew what it felt like to be last. I thought maybe you’d understand.”

Jeongin: (blinks hard)

“I did understand. I just didn’t want to share it. It felt like that was the only part of the group that was mine — being the youngest. And then you came in, and suddenly I wasn’t special.”

[Y/N]: (a soft laugh, tearful)

“I thought you were the special one.”

Jeongin goes quiet for a moment. His voice, when he speaks again, is a whisper.

Jeongin:

“I used to watch you practice alone at night. You moved like your life depended on it. And I realized — it kind of did.”

[Y/N]: (nods slowly)

“I was scared. Every second.”

Jeongin:

“I remember the first time I made you laugh. Like really laugh. You’d just finished crying in the stairwell. You thought no one saw. But I did. And I said something dumb. I think it was about a pigeon?”

[Y/N]: (laughs, wiping her eyes)

“You said he had better stage presence than me.”

Jeongin: (smiling)

“Yeah. And you laughed so hard you dropped your phone. I remember thinking, I want to make her laugh like that again. Every day.”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes full of memory.

Jeongin:

“You were the first person I ever told I didn’t know who I was without this group.”

[Y/N]:

“I remember. You were crying, and you said you felt like a background character in your own life.”

Jeongin: (voice cracking)

“And you said, ‘You’re not a background character. You’re my favorite part.’”

[Y/N]: (voice barely audible)

“You still are.”

Silence stretches between them — not empty, but full of everything they never said, and now finally do.

Jeongin:

“I think I loved you before I even knew what that meant. Not in the way people write songs about. Just… in the way that made me want to be better. For you. For me. For all of us.”

[Y/N]: (smiles softly, eyes shining)

“And you are.”

————

🎬 [51:01 –1:13:50] – ALL TOGETHER

The room feels a little too small for nine people, but no one seems to mind. They’ve shared tighter spaces — green rooms, vans, late-night airport lounges. This feels almost intimate in comparison. Someone’s leg is resting against someone else’s. A shared water bottle passes without a second thought.

[Y/N] is in the center, not by arrangement, just by instinct. Like the rest of them naturally fell into place around her.

Chan:

“Alright. Let’s talk about it.” (He glances at her, then back at the others.)

“Not the beginning — we’ve done that. But the middle. When it shifted.”

Minho: (smirking, dry)

“When you stopped being the ‘new kid’ and started showing up in our dreams.”

[Y/N]: (groaning, covering her face)

“Noooo. Can we not—?”

Felix: (grinning)

“It’s true though. There was this time in Osaka, remember? You came down to breakfast wearing Changbin’s hoodie and everyone just… stopped.”

Changbin: (snorts)

“It wasn’t even clean.”

[Y/N]: (deadpan)

“Yeah. I noticed.”

Jeongin: (half smiling)

“I didn’t. I just noticed you looked… right in it. Like it was always meant to be yours.”

There’s a quiet shift in the air, like someone just opened a window inside a memory.

Hyunjin:

“You were on stage in Singapore. Spotlight hit your face and I just—” (he stops, eyes flicking to the floor)

“I forgot where I was. Who I was. You looked… untouchable. And then you tripped over a mic cord and fell flat on your ass.”

Everyone: (bursting into laughter)

[Y/N]: (laughing too, cheeks pink)

“Thank you, Hyunjin. That’s the moment?”

Hyunjin: (softly)

“No. The moment was when you laughed at yourself, even when it must’ve hurt. That’s when I realized… I wanted to be near you for a long time.”

The laughter fades, replaced by a stillness that feels like reverence.

Seungmin:

“You used to leave tea outside my door when I got sick. Never said anything. Just left it and walked away.”

[Y/N]:

“You would’ve told me not to fuss.”

Seungmin:

“I told myself it was nothing. That you’d do it for anyone. But when I opened the door one night and it wasn’t there, I felt… off. That’s when I knew it wasn’t just tea.”

Han:

“For me, it was the sound you made when you laughed for real. Not the polite one. The loud one. The one that made your nose scrunch.”

Felix: (teasing)

“Dude, your ears would turn red every time.”

Han: (shrugging)

“Still do.”

Minho:

“She was always last to leave the practice room. But one night, she didn’t realize I stayed behind too. She thought she was alone. And I watched her go over the same eight counts for forty minutes — crying, cursing, getting back up. It was like watching someone refuse to quit even when no one was clapping.”

Chan: (quietly)

“She didn’t know we were all watching. Different nights. Different reasons. But we all saw it. The way she never asked for anything but still gave everything.”

They glance at her now. Not as a member. Not as the girl who joined late. But as someone whose presence somehow pulled them closer, whether they meant to let it happen or not.

Jeongin: (softly)

“You were the first person who never treated me like the youngest. But you still protected me. That was confusing.”

[Y/N]: (smiling at him)

“You protected me too, you just didn’t know it.”

Seungmin:

“There wasn’t a meeting. No grand decision.”

Han:

“Just a bunch of little ones.”

Hyunjin:

“Late night check-ins.”

Changbin:

“Shared hoodies.”

Minho:

“Inside jokes that no one else understood.”

Felix: (quietly)

“Falling asleep touching someone’s shoulder and waking up with your hand still there.”

Chan: (eyes gentle)

“We didn’t ask for labels. We didn’t need to. It just… became something else. All of us.”

They’re quiet again. Not awkward — just full. Like every silence holds a hundred unspoken things.

[Y/N]:

“There were nights I wanted to leave. Thought it would be easier. Cleaner. Thought I was messing everything up.”

Chan: (gently)

“You weren’t. You were the reason we started paying attention to what was already there.”

Jeongin:

“You’re not a piece we added. You’re what made the picture make sense.”

Felix:

“It was always going to be this.”

Hyunjin:

“We just didn’t know how to say it.”

Seungmin:

“And maybe we don’t need to.”

[Y/N]: (smiling, glassy-eyed)

“No. We don’t.”

—————

[Postscript | SKZ Two Kids Room — Special Episode]

The screen fades to warm-toned behind-the-scenes footage: eight boys and one girl curled up across a messy couch, a tangle of limbs, laughter, and shared silence.

Voiceover [minho]:

“They don’t say what it is.

And maybe they don’t have to.

Some things don’t need to be said

when they already feel like home.”

[keepmetogether]

I finally went to bed at a reasonable time and I woke up to a new comeback???? Didn't we just HAVE a comeback? Wym there's 2min in the trailer???? AND SKZOO ALBUM VERSIONS?

[keepmetogether]

wdym peter by taylor perfectly describes what happened between one direction and directioners and now thats who the song will always be dedicated to whenever i listen to it????

[keepmetogether]

The boys or my boys always, and we're their girls always ❤️‍🩹

[keepmetogether]

directioner->stay pipeline needs to be studied

it almost feels like fate? a member left each group, march 25th is a big day for both groups... but at least it was a happy day for skz

and for me I found stray kids a bit before liam passed, I was already struggling mentally so I'll always be thankful I found them when I did because they helped me through my grief. I used to call one direction the boys or my boys and it was nice to do it again even if it was no longer for them.

I was lost but stray kids found me.

[keepmetogether]

"I speak a different language, but I still hear your call"

[keepmetogether]

I will NEVER understand how anyone could ever think lee know is "cold" or "mean".

Wym one of the reasons he keeps going is for stay and his cats? Wym he sponsors multiple kids? Wym he constantly buys different items that are for different charities? Wym he's bought/made gifts for stay multiple times? Wym he always has encouraging words and love for us on lives, fans, bubble etc?

[keepmetogether]

A/N it’s not letting me reply to my requests but this is a request!!! so if you have any send them to my inbox 💞

You Can Join

warnings: cock warming, oral (fem receiving) a little m x m, use of ‘good girl’

contains: ⛔️smut, threesome, a little fluff

summary: you were only supposed to be seeing your childhood bestfriend and now your involved in a secret you can’t forget

pairing: leeknow x han jisung x reader

words: 3.8k

You used to think summers lasted forever. Long days, scraped knees, and the sound of Changbin’s laugh ringing through the sticky heat like a bell. Back then, he wasn’t a famous rapper with millions of fans chanting his name. He was just Changbin from two streets over, the loud, scrappy kid who could never win at Mario Kart but insisted on rematches until the sun went down.

You didn’t grow up inseparable. It wasn’t like the dramas made it out to be. There were years when you barely talked, middle school drama, new friends, life. But the bond never really broke. You always came back to each other in the end, like bookmarks in a story neither of you had finished reading.

High school was when things started to shift. He got serious about music. You got serious about... well, trying to survive exams and not lose your mind. You cheered him on from the sidelines, sent him stupid memes at 3 a.m., sometimes didn’t talk for weeks but always picked back up like no time had passed.

Then came his debut.

You were proud — like, beyond proud. But it also meant distance. Not emotional, not really. Just time zones, tour schedules, and a version of him you could only see through screens and stage lights. Still, when he did reach out, it was always genuine.

Which brings you to now.

The friendship isn’t deep in the way some childhood friendships are, but it’s solid. It’s honest. He’s one of the few people who’s seen you ugly cry after failing a test and laugh until you snorted cola out your nose. That counts for something.

And the rest of Stray Kids? You’ve met them. Not in a fangirl way, you made that clear from day one. You weren’t there to drool over their visuals. They were Changbin’s people, and slowly, over a handful of get-togethers, they started to become yours, too.

Lee Know was cool, in that slightly intimidating “I’ll-read-you-in-two-seconds” kind of way. He didn’t talk much to you at first, but when he did, it was sharp, not unkind, just observant.

Jisung? He was chaos personified. Hyper, a little awkward, full of jokes. You liked him. He made you feel like you belonged even when you were just sitting quietly on the edge of a group.

You’d hung out with them a few times, movie nights, random meals when Changbin dragged you along, that one beach trip where you fell asleep with sand in your hair and woke up to Jisung drawing something obscene near your ankle with sunscreen.

Still, you were careful. You never overstayed. You knew their world was hectic, private. You never wanted to be that person , the childhood friend trying to milk clout or cling to old memories.

But when Changbin messaged out of the blue, “Hey, I miss your dumb face. Come hang out this weekend?” you said yes without thinking.

Because some bonds don’t need daily maintenance. They just exist. And sometimes, all it takes is a text to remind you that yeah, he still thinks of you as one of his people.

And you? Well. You missed being around people who knew you before.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It’s quiet when you arrive — too quiet, considering the chaos that usually defines anything involving Stray Kids. You press the buzzer and wait, your reflection staring back at you in the gloss of the dorm’s front entrance glass. The door clicks open and you step inside, greeted by the soft hum of electronics and the faint smell of ramen and cleaning supplies, someone must’ve just cleaned.

You slip your shoes off and glance around. No one's in the hallway. No laughter. No shouting. You frown a little but shrug it off. Changbin did say they might be out. Still, it’s kind of eerie being in their dorm alone, even though it’s not your first time.

Text from Changbin [4:38 PM]:

"Running late — got caught in traffic. Be there in 45ish. You can chill, everyone else is probably out too 🫠 Don’t eat all the snacks."

You snort. Typical.

You wander in further, your steps light on the polished floor. The living room is the same as you remember, slightly messy, with throw blankets half-folded and a weirdly large collection of remotes that no one ever knows how to use. There’s a hoodie draped over the arm of the couch. You recognize it, it’s Jisung’s. You pick it up, giving it a small shake before tossing it neatly onto the back of the chair.

There’s something a little too domestic about it all.

You flop down on the couch and stare up at the ceiling, letting the silence fill your ears. It’s weird. Not uncomfortable exactly, but unfamiliar. Like you’re sitting inside someone else’s life. You scroll your phone for a bit, switch to some random playlist, and then let your eyes close.

For a moment, you think about Changbin again. It’s always a little bittersweet, seeing him now. You’re proud of him, always, but it’s hard not to notice how different his world is from yours. You’re still you — still figuring things out, still living in the spaces between job applications and late-night cravings. Meanwhile, he’s out here living the kind of life people only dream of.

And yet... he still invites you back.

Maybe that means something.

You sit up, stretching your arms over your head. “Okay,” you mumble to no one. “What now?”

Your eyes wander toward the hallway. A faint sound catches your ear, not music, not talking exactly, but something. A soft thud. Maybe a laugh? You tilt your head. Could be someone’s home after all. You hesitate. You’re not the type to snoop, but boredom’s a dangerous thing.

And maybe… maybe you’re curious.

You make your way down the hall quietly, your bare feet making barely a whisper against the floor. The noise comes from upstairs, the door to the second floor is slightly ajar. That’s when you hear it again.

Voices. Low. Male. A laugh — breathy, almost choked. Then something like…

A kiss?

Your stomach twists strangely, and for a second, you think maybe you misheard. You’re halfway up the stairs before your mind really catches up with your body. You're not trying to spy. You just—

Okay. You kind of are.

Curiosity gets the best of you.

You step carefully up onto the second floor, trying not to breathe too loudly. You follow the sound to one of the bedrooms. The door is cracked open, just enough. You peer through the gap.

And freeze.

There’s Lee Know, sitting back against the headboard. Jisung is half in his lap, straddling his thighs, his hands tangled in Lee Know’s shirt. Their mouths are moving together, slow, deep, like they’ve done this a hundred times before. It’s intimate in a way that feels like a secret and a confession all at once.

You suck in a quiet breath, stepping back. The door creaks just a little under your weight.

Jisung jolts first, wide eyes snapping toward the door. You can see the panic rise in his expression, the way his body goes tense and stiff like someone flipped a switch.

Lee Know’s gaze follows a second later, but his reaction is the complete opposite.

Calm. Composed. Maybe even amused.

“Shit,” Jisung breathes, scrambling a little, pulling at the edge of his shirt.

You’re already raising your hands. “I-I didn’t see anything. I swear. I just heard someone and thought— I’m sorry—”

Lee Know’s voice cuts in. Smooth. Unbothered.

“Don’t go.”

You blink.

He shifts slightly, and Jisung stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “Hyung—?”

“If you don’t tell anyone…” Lee Know’s gaze slides back to you. “You can join us.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second. “W-What?”

His head tilts, dark eyes sharp but unreadable. “I’ve seen how you look at us,” he says casually, like he’s stating the weather. “Especially Jisung.”

Jisung turns red, still trying to process the situation.

You stammer something, probably the beginning of a very weak excuse, but then Lee Know adds, “Come here.”

It’s not a question.

Something about his tone sends a small, electric thrill down your spine. It’s commanding. Teasing. Like he already knows what you’ll choose.

And then he looks to Jisung. “Tell her.”

Jisung licks his lips, eyes flickering nervously between you and Lee Know. “I… We’ve both— kind of— We’ve thought about you. A lot.”

There’s silence. Charged. Breathless.

Your heart is thudding way too fast.

You don’t say anything. Not yet. But you don’t move either.

You’re not leaving.

Not yet.

You should leave.

You should turn around, go downstairs, and pretend you never saw anything.

But you don’t.

You stand there, fingers clenched against your palms, heart racing so fast it drowns out the sound of your own thoughts. Jisung is still flushed, hands halfway tangled in the hem of his shirt, looking between you and Minho like he’s waiting for someone to wake him up.

Minho is steady. Always steady. His gaze stays locked on yours.

“Come here,” he says again, voice lower now, smooth like honey with a dangerous edge.

You step into the room.

Because you’re not pretending you didn’t hear him. You’re not pretending you haven’t thought about it, too — maybe late at night, alone, your thoughts wandering a little too far into dangerous territory. You’ve seen the way Jisung looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You’ve caught Minho smirking, watching you with those unreadable eyes.

You just never thought they talked about it.

“You’re really not going to tell anyone?” Jisung asks, his voice soft, uncertain.

You shake your head. “I won’t.”

Minho smirks slightly, satisfied. He pats the edge of the bed. “Then sit.”

You do.

Close enough that your knees brush Jisung’s thigh.

He swallows hard.

Minho shifts beside him, draping one arm behind Jisung casually, fingers ghosting over his shoulder. “We’ve thought about you,” he says, the words slow, deliberate. “A lot.”

You exhale slowly, trying to calm your pulse. “Like… thought about…?”

Minho’s eyes flick down your body, then back up, sharp and warm. “Like how you’d sound,” he says, “if we took turns kissing you.”

Jisung lets out a quiet breath, staring at his lap. Minho’s hand moves to his neck, thumb stroking over his pulse.

“Thought about how you’d look,” he continues, “with your head thrown back, mouth open, begging for more.”

Your thighs press together instinctively. He notices. His smirk widens.

“You’ve got no idea how pretty we think you are,” Minho adds, leaning a little closer. “Or how much we talk about you when we’re alone. Isn’t that right, Ji?”

Jisung groans softly, hiding his face for a second. “Hyung…”

“Tell her.”

You glance between them, your skin prickling with heat.

Jisung shifts, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I—I think about you all the time,” he admits, his voice tight. “Like, fuck, it’s bad. The things I’ve imagined doing to you…”

You shiver.

He looks wrecked just saying it, pink-faced, pupils blown wide, lip caught between his teeth. “I’ve— I’ve jerked off thinking about you,” he blurts out, then immediately covers his face again. “Fuck.”

Minho laughs under his breath. “You’re so shy now, but you’re the one who whines when she texts you at night and you can’t touch yourself.��

You blink. “Wait, what?”

Jisung squeaks. “Hyung!”

“He gets so desperate,” Minho murmurs, leaning in toward your ear. His breath is hot against your skin. “He’ll send me voice notes begging for permission to touch himself. Just because you posted a photo looking too good.”

You don’t know where to look, everything is heat and tension and the sense that a line has already been crossed, and now there’s no going back.

“What about you?” Minho asks, eyes gleaming. “Have you thought about us?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Both of us?”

You glance at Jisung, then back at him. “Yeah. Both.”

There’s a long pause.

Then Minho leans forward and kisses you.

It’s not soft. Not testing. He kisses you like he’s claiming something, like he’s known you’d taste good and now he’s proving it. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, angling your face exactly the way he wants, tongue sliding against yours, hot and sure.

You whimper into his mouth before you even realize you’re doing it.

When he pulls back, Jisung is staring — eyes blown wide, chest heaving.

Minho tilts his head. “You want to kiss her too?”

Jisung nods, almost desperately.

You don’t even have to move — he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss that’s messier, needier, full of shaky breath and whispered sounds. His hands tremble as they cup your waist, thumbs sliding under your shirt just barely.

When you part, you’re breathless, your mouth kiss-swollen, your head spinning.

Minho’s hand slides down your back, warm and confident. “You want to join us, don’t you?”

You nod.

He smirks, pleased. “Good girl.”

Those two words set something off in you, a shudder deep in your gut. You gasp softly, and Minho clearly notices.

“Oh? You like being called that?”

You bite your lip.

Jisung’s hand moves to yours, fingers lacing together. “Can I touch you more?”

Minho hums. “Only if she says yes.”

You nod again. “Yes.”

Jisung shifts forward and places a kiss just below your jaw, sweet and a little clumsy. His hand slides up under your shirt, not rushing, just exploring — fingers brushing your ribs, then higher.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers. “So perfect.”

Minho watches you like a predator. “I want you to take your shirt off.”

You hesitate only a second before pulling it over your head.

Both boys groan at once.

“Fuck,” Jisung breathes, hands now on your waist. “You’re actually— you’re so hot, I don’t even know what to do—”

“Relax,” Minho says, voice low. “We’ll show her everything. She’ll beg for us by the time we’re done.”

He moves behind you, kissing down the curve of your shoulder, slow and sensual, while Jisung presses soft kisses to your stomach. Your skin is hypersensitive now, every brush of breath or fingertips makes you twitch.

“You still sure about this?” Minho murmurs near your ear.

You nod again, breath hitching. “Yes.”

“Say it,” he says, licking the shell of your ear. “Tell us you want us.”

“I want you,” you whisper. “Both of you.”

Minho smiles against your skin. “Good girl.”

He moves to unhook your bra, and the moment it falls, Jisung lets out a shaky groan.

Minho slides his hand over your chest, slow and possessive. “Next part,” he whispers, fingers grazing over one of your nipples, “we make you ours.”

Minho doesn’t give you time to overthink.

He nudges Jisung back with a quiet, firm “lie down,” and the younger boy obeys instantly, scooting back against the pillows with wide, glassy eyes.

Then Minho turns to you.

“Strip,” he says simply, voice cool, controlled.

You obey, slowly, nervously, but already burning up. You feel their eyes on you as you slide your pants down, then your underwear. By the time you’re bare, Jisung is chewing his lip and Minho is watching you like he already owns you.

“Fuck, she’s gorgeous,” Jisung whispers.

Minho doesn’t smile — not exactly. He’s too focused. But there’s satisfaction in the way he looks at you, like he’s seeing a fantasy finally come to life.

“C’mere,” he says, and you climb onto the bed.

He positions you right between them, Jisung beneath you, hard and panting, and Minho behind, still half-clothed but completely in control.

“You’re going to take us both tonight,” Minho murmurs in your ear. “You want that, baby?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Louder.”

“Yes.”

Minho hums his approval and kisses down your neck, his hands sliding around your waist to grope your chest again, firmer this time, possessive. “You’re already shaking,” he whispers. “And we haven’t even touched you properly.”

Jisung’s hands find your hips, pulling you down over him so you’re straddling his lap. His clothed cock presses against you, desperate and twitching. “C-Can I take mine off?”

But Minho presses his hand flat against your stomach. “Not yet.”

He glances down at Jisung, who’s panting, already bare, his cock twitching in his pants. “You want her mouth first, Ji?”

Jisung’s eyes are huge, pupils blown. “Y-Yes— wait, I mean—”

Minho smirks. “I meant your mouth on her, baby.”

Jisung’s brain visibly short-circuits.

“Oh—fuck, yes. Yes please.”

Minho grips the back of Jisung’s neck and nudges him downward with calm authority. “On your stomach. Face between her legs.”

You lie back, breath caught in your throat, and Jisung slides down the bed like he’s being summoned by gravity, kissing your thighs, trembling with anticipation.

Minho moves behind him, still fully dressed, and leans over to trail kisses down the curve of Jisung’s spine.

“She’s so wet for us already,” he murmurs, and Jisung groans in agreement as he drags his tongue through your folds, slow and reverent.

Your hips jerk.

“Oh my god—” you gasp, fisting the sheets.

Jisung moans against you, messy and needy — tongue swirling over your clit, then dipping inside you with growing urgency. He clutches your thighs, holding you open, face buried in your heat like he can’t get close enough.

Minho watches over his shoulder, one hand gripping Jisung’s hip, the other stroking down his back.

“Good boy,” he says, and leans in to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss between Jisung’s shoulder blades. “Just like that. She loves it, doesn’t she?”

You whimper a moaned “yes,” toes curling.

Jisung licks you faster, lips wrapping around your clit now, sucking gently — making obscene little sounds between desperate breaths. Minho kisses along his spine again, trailing down to the small of his back.

“Such a slut for her,” he murmurs, voice dark with heat. “Bet you’ve dreamed of this. Her thighs around your head. My hands on you. All of us like this.”

Jisung groans into you, the vibration making you gasp, your legs shaking.

“You’re gonna make her come, aren’t you?” Minho growls. “Make her gush all over that pretty mouth.”

You’re already close.

Your hips buck against Jisung’s tongue, and Minho strokes the inside of your thigh, watching your face intently.

“Let go, baby,” he whispers. “Come for us.”

You cry out, hips jerking, back arching, one hand tangling in Jisung’s hair as the orgasm crashes over you. He groans into it, licking you through every wave, hands gripping your thighs tight.

When you finally slump back, panting and trembling, Jisung pulls back, lips shiny, chin soaked.

He looks completely wrecked.

Minho leans down and kisses the back of his neck. “That’s my boy.”

Then he turns to you, eyes dark and hungry. “you wanna ride him now baby?” you nod eagerly

“Wanna let him fuck you while I play with you from behind?”

Your brain short-circuits for a second.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes—please.”

He pulls off jisungs pants kissing his tights as the boy underneath him squirms and whimpers.

Jisung lays flat on his back as minho moved me to straddle jisung.

He grabs a condom and tosses it to Jisung. “Be quick. Don’t get sloppy.”

Jisung fumbles a little but gets it on, and Minho pulls you back just slightly, slipping a hand between your legs.

“Oh, fuck—” you gasp, jerking as his fingers slide through your folds.

“So wet,” he mutters. “She’s dripping for you, Ji. You feel that?”

Jisung nods helplessly, eyes glued to where Minho’s fingers are working you open. “I—fuck, I wanna be inside—”

“Then do it.”

Minho helps guide you down — slowly, inch by inch, and both of you moan when he finally fills you. You’re tight, soaked, your walls fluttering around him as you sink fully onto his cock.

“Shit,” Jisung groans, grabbing your hips like he’ll lose control otherwise.

You brace your hands on his chest, panting.

Then Minho wraps one arm around you, pressing his chest to your back. “You don’t move unless I say so.”

You nod.

His free hand travels down, teasing your clit slowly while Jisung twitches inside you, already close from the buildup.

“Look how pretty you are,” Minho whispers. “Both of you. Fucking beautiful.”

You whimper, trying not to buck your hips. Jisung is moaning, every muscle in his body tense.

“Please,” Jisung gasps. “Please let her move—hyung, I can’t—”

Minho’s fingers pinch your clit lightly, making you jolt. “What do you say?”

“Please,” Jisung groans again. “She feels so good, I’ll go crazy if she doesn’t—fuck—please—”

Minho chuckles. “Alright. Move.”

You rock your hips, slowly at first, rolling them just right so that both of you moan again. Jisung bucks up to meet you, nearly sobbing your name under his breath.

Minho bites your shoulder. “That’s it, baby. Ride him. Make him lose it.”

You do, building rhythm, faster, needier, until you’re both falling apart. Jisung grips your ass, thrusting up to meet you, whimpering with every motion.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—” he warns, and Minho grabs your hips, slowing you down.

“Let go,” he says. “She can take it.”

Jisung moans your name as he finishes, trembling beneath you.

You’re still panting when Minho slides away from behind you.

“My turn,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head and shoving his pants down.

You stare.

He’s big.

And he knows it, too, the smug look he gives you as he rolls the condom on is enough to make your stomach flip.

He gently moves you off of Jisung and onto your back. “Open for me.”

You spread your legs and Minho moves between them, stroking himself once, twice, before pushing in, slow, deliberate, making you feel every inch.

You both groan.

“Fucking tight,” he mutters, gripping your thighs. “God, you feel like heaven.”

He starts slow, measured, deep strokes that make your toes curl. His hand slips under your leg, pushing your thigh up to get deeper.

“You’re doing so good,” he says. “Taking me so well. You were made for this, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please—faster—”

He obliges, snapping his hips harder, your whole body rocking with the force of it.

Jisung moves beside you, kissing your neck, your collarbone, whispering praise.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes. “So fucking good, so perfect—”

Minho grabs your jaw and turns your face to his. “Eyes on me.”

You moan louder when he starts pounding into you harder, the bed creaking, skin slapping against skin, sweat dripping down his chest. “You love this, don’t you?” he growls. “Being fucked dumb by both of us?”

“Y-Yes—”

He reaches down, fingers circling your clit again, fast and unforgiving. “Then come for me. Come while I fuck this perfect pussy.”

You break.

The orgasm rips through you, sudden and overwhelming, your vision goes white, your body trembling under the force of it.

“Good girl,” Minho groans, thrusting once, twice, then spilling into the condom with a low growl.

You barely register him pulling out, collapsing next to you on the bed.

There’s a long silence.

Just panting.

Sticky skin and tangled limbs.

Then Minho brushes a strand of hair from your face and leans in, kissing your cheek. “You okay?”

You nod weakly, breathless. “Yeah… more than okay.”

Jisung cuddles up against your other side, nuzzling your neck. “That was the best day of my life.”

You laugh, dazed.

Minho smirks. “Guess Changbin’s gonna be real confused when he gets home.”

You all burst into giggles, tangled and happy and sated.

@hwangjoanna @penguins-in-space @sammhisphere

comment if you wanna be added to the tag list

[keepmetogether]

My Tutor

✩ masterlist ✩ requests ✩ kofi ✩ add to taglist

♡ Pairing : bestfriend! han jisung x reader

♡ Genre : non-idol au, college smut

♡ Word count : 2.1k+

♡ Warnings : 18+ nsfw, explicit sexual content, oral sex (m. receiving), cum swallowing

❗️minors, ageless, and blank blogs that will interact with me or my work will be BLOCKED.

[5:45 pm] quokka cheeks 🐿️

Yo, are you still coming over for study night?

[5:47 pm] feisty pants 😒

Yeah, I'll be there around 6:30. See ya

You were preparing to go to your best friend, Jisung's apartment. Every Saturday night you had your study sessions with him. Everyone says college is supposed to be about having fun, partying, getting drunk, laid, or possibly waking up with a throbbing headache or a new lover, and at the same time pass your subjects and be productive in your academics, but that's not the case with the two of you, though you guys used to then the both of you almost failed one of your majors and almost ended up being irregular students so Jisung initiated the study nights. Instead of movie nights or parties, you decided to study for your future.

You arrived at Jisung's apartment and met with Hyunjin, his roommate, by the door wearing shoes.

"Hey Hyun. Nice jacket." You said, complimenting his fluffy black and white jacket.

"Thanks. Bought it yesterday." He smiled.

"Where you off to?" You asked him as you took off your shoes.

"There's a party at Sigma house tonight, you guys wanna come?" Hyunjin said, looking up at you while tying his shoelaces.

"No thanks. It's study night." You shook your head. "Besides, you know I don't go to Sigma house anymore."

"Oh right, sorry." Hyunjin sheepishly apologized, remembering the reason why. "You guys should go and have fun sometimes, you know."

"Next time, Hyun. When it's not a party at Sigma house." You rolled your eyes when you said Sigma. You were bitter about it because that's where you met your ex-boyfriend, Christopher Bang. He's a senior and head of the fraternity, everybody liked him, all the guys wanted to be friends with him and all the girls try hard to get in his pants. You thought he was the one but he broke up with you after a month and told you the reason was that your head gamewasn't strong, which offended you to the maximum level.

"Alright. Understandable." Hyunjin chuckled as he went out the front door.

"Did you bring snacks?" Jisung appeared all of a sudden and startled you.

"God, stop sneaking up on me like that!" You yelled.

"I wasn't! Stop drinking too much coffee, y/n. Seriously." He said and walked to their living room.

His study materials were already spread out on the coffee table, leaving a space for you. You brought out the snacks you bought from the convenience store downstairs and then the both of you started with your study session. Jisung was wearing his glasses, oh how he looked super hot with his glasses on. He was hyper-focused, making flashcards and memorizing tables when you, on the other hand, were distracted. You kept checking your phone and saw Chris' Instagram stories. How he's having a blast at the party, making out with girls, drinking, and playing games while still looking fresh as fuck.

"You know, the unfollow button is there for a reason," Jisung said, not even batting an eye toward you as he compiled his flash cards.

"I'm not following him. This is your account." You said. Jisung realized that you were using his phone and quickly took it from you.

Jisung is friends with Chris since high school, but he rarely communicates with him now that he knows what a dick he is. Jisung met you during freshman year. You were seatmates in a majority of the classes you took and that's how you got close. He was also the one who introduced Chris to you but now he's regretting it. He didn't know his friend would be a total jerk during college when he was a mama's good boy during high school but he didn't know the two of you would hit it off anyways and that Chris would break up with you for that pathetic reason, though it smells like bullshit to him because Chris has been sleeping with different women almost every night after breaking up with you. What a total asshole, Jisung thought to himself thinking that Chris has lost a very precious diamond and replaced you with damn rocks.

"Alright, how about we take a break from studying," Jisung said and sat on the couch. "Movie?"

"Ji, it's fine. I can get back in the zone." You said.

"Please, as if I'd believe that. Come here." He said and patted the couch for you to sit beside him since you were still sitting on the floor beside his knee. "We don't have upcoming quizzes this week so we can relax this weekend."

"Who are you and what did you do with Han Jisung?" You sarcastically questioned. Jisung was never one to just skip study night.

"Shut up and pick a movie." He rolled his eyes. You rest your head on his knees, then an idea hit you. 

"Ji, can I ask you a favor?" You asked. His ears perked and looked at you. Jisung is your best friend and you trust him even with your life so asking this favor would surely be okay, right?

"Sure, what is it?" He replied.

"You had sex before, right?" You asked him.

"Yeah, a couple of times back then. Why do you ask?" Jisung replied, looking curious.

"This may sound a bit insane, but.." you trailed off.

"But what," he asked, eyes fixated on you.

"Can you teach me how to you know..give a blowjob?" You said and bit your lip and Jisung choked on his own saliva.

"I-uh—what?" He blinked fast. He couldn't believe it, did he hear you right? His brain is currently short-circuiting. You always asked Jisung to teach you or help you with learning a new topic but this wasn't what you usually asked.

"It's okay if you don't want to..I was just—"

"No. I'm cool with it." Jisung held your hand. "It's just that, it's so sudden, and why me? Why a tutorial?" He asked.

"Because I know I can trust you." You said. "You know what Chris said and you're a very good teacher." You hummed and that did something to him.

"Really? If I know, you're just trying to toot my horn so I'll say yes." He chuckled. "And don't believe what Chris says, you know that probably is bullshit." He said.

"No, I'm not. I mean it. And I really want to learn. So what do you say?" You looked at him with sparkling eyes, you looked so adorable kneeling between his legs and there was no way he could say no to that.

"Alright. Sure." He shrugged, trying to look cool when deep inside it was already exciting him. You clapped your hands in delight that Jisung agreed.

"So first, I have to try to get it hard right?" You asked as you reached to palm over his cock.

"Woah!" Jisung flinched. He didn't actually think that you were going to blow him, just that he was just going to give you tips and discuss it.

"What? I have to do it to learn, don't I?" You said.

"Yeah..sorry I was just startled." Jisung chuckled then he mustered up the confidence to try and look cool and calm as he held your hand.

"Before starting anything, it's important to turn the guy on. You're not gonna get anywhere when he's not hard." Jisung started while you listened intently, getting comfortable between his legs. "A makeout session would work out just fine but, you could also palm him over his pants if kissing isn't your thing."

You reached for his dick again, it was only semi-hard. "Like this?" You said as you palmed him through his sweatpants which made him bite his lower lip.

"Y-Yeah.." he sighed.

You could feel his cock grow slowly under touch which gave you confidence. Jisung was looking at your hand touching him inappropriately and you couldn't help but find it cute that you had that effect on him. Then following his tip, you stood up and kissed him which caught him off guard. After all, why do one thing when you could do both? Jisung was quick to return the kiss and cupped your cheek while you continue to palm him feeling him grow at a rapid pace now. You pulled back and gave him a playful smile.

"Was that good?" You asked him.

"So good." Jisung moaned.

"Should I take it out?" You asked although you knew you should you just wanted him to tell you step by step. He shook his head to focus back on reality from being kiss-drunk.

"Y-yes. You can. Now, stroke it gently a few times then I'd prefer if you'd start with kitten licks." He instructed. "Most men probably don't like teasing but I find it hot."

And with that, you lowered his sweatpants, he lifted his hips up for ease. His hard cock sprung free and you were surprised about his size. Talk about real big dick energy. You didn't know it but you were salivating over it that you wanted to just take it right away. You started with kitten licks anyway because that's what he told you he preferred. He let out a small moan once your wet tongue came to contact. You looked up at him to see him looking at you through hooded eyes. You looked so cute giving him small, kitten licks making his dick twitch a little.

"Like it that much?" You smirked then proceeded to take his advice about teasing, you gently ran your hands on his thighs, giving small kisses on his toned stomach and his hips before hovering over his aching cock, giving it a tongue flick before kissing down to his balls. You heard him groan, his dick twitching and started leaking precum as you continue teasing him, not giving his cock the attention it needs.

"Fuck. You're really good at teasing." He grunted.

His praise made you smile and now he deserves to be taken in. You take the head inside your mouth which made him gasp, feeling your warm, wet mouth around his dick was better than what he imagined. He tasted so good in your mouth that it was making you dizzy. You started sucking it softly while you bob your head up and down his cock which made his eyes roll in pleasure.

"Yeah. Just like that, baby." Jisung moaned and brushed your hair out of your face. You clenched around nothing when he called you baby for the first time. You could feel your wetness and it didn't occur to you that pleasuring your best friend would turn you on so much. "You can use your hand if you can't take the whole thing in." He instructed and you followed.

You wrapped your hand around his length and started twisting it in sync with your bobbing. You swirled your tongue around his length and sucked him good. You then picked up the pace which made him a panting mess under your touch.

"Fuck, you're pretty good at this. You got really good head game, y/n. Are you sure you need—ah..a tutorial?" He said and you hummed in contentment of being praised. Jisung was dangerously close to cumming when you hummed around his cock, any more of this feeling, he was sure to explode. He quickly held your hand signaling you to stop. You looked at him with confusion.

"What? I thought you liked it?" You asked him. Your chin all wet with drool from sucking him off.

"Ye-yeah. I really do. It's just that.." He said, avoiding your gaze. "It felt really good I almost..came in your mouth. I think it'd be really inappropriate to just do it without asking."

His cuteness made your heart melt. He stopped you because he was about to cum and he didn't want to because he wanted your consent to cum inside your mouth? Can Han Jisung get any hotter than that? Good Lord, you wouldn't want to miss out on this, making good boy Jisung cum inside your mouth.

"Then cum." You said, eyes looking directly at his as you lower your mouth to his tip. "Cum inside my mouth. Give it to me, all of it."

And with that, you started to suck him off again. Doing everything he's taught you. He looked at you with lust-filled eyes, cheeks in a light shade of red, and his mouth hung agape.

"Fuck, baby. I'm about to cum." He said and gripped the couch. You hummed to encourage him, the vibrations sending him to the edge, then he shot his warm seed inside your mouth, down your throat while letting out a deep, strangled moan and his eyes screwed shut. You swallowed everything because he just tasted so good inside your mouth and you don't know why. You had definitely put him in a state of euphoria as he was sighing in satisfaction and that made you feel happy and confident with your head game now.

"Thanks for the lessons, Professor. Han." You giggled as you wiped your mouth clean with a tissue. 

"You know, since you've been such a stellar student, it's only fitting I give you a reward." He gave you a mischievous grin and then pulled you up to sit on his lap, his lips hovering over your ear which made shivers run down your spine. "What do you think about seeing stars?"

↳ reblogs, feedback, & comments are highly appreciated. it motivates me and it is the lifeline of my blog. To everyone who read and left a like, comment, and reblogged especially with text, thank you so much 정말 감사합니다 ♡

↳ requests are open click me !

↳ if you like my work, consider buying me a kofi ☕

↳ which member should i do next? comment or click me !

[keepmetogether]

sir that's my emotional support tv show that i watch only through facebook reels and 143 tiktok parts

[keepmetogether]

touch grass

ouch grass

ch grass

grass

ass

s ass

hans ass

chans ass

ng chans ass

ang chans ass

bang chans ass

....respectfully of course

[keepmetogether]

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐈𝐓.

PAIRING: gentledom!christopher bang x fem!reader WARNINGS: CONTAINS NSFW MINORS DNI, ab riding/grinding, degradation (light), porn without plot GENRE: smut PLAYLIST: here WORD COUNT: 640 NOTE: this is my first time writing smut so please be nice :')

navigation | request | bang chan masterlist

your thighs are already shaking by the time you straddle his waist.

he’s lying back against the headboard, shirtless, the light from your lamp casting shadows over the ridges of his abs. his arms are behind his head, watching you with a smirk as if he knows exactly how wrecked you're about to be.

and he does.

“you’re really gonna make yourself come like this?” he says, lips twitching.

you don’t answer. you just drag your hips forward, the thin fabric of your underwear catching on the cut of his torso. his abs firm, flexing slightly beneath you. your breath caught, warmth flushed through your whole body.

chan hums, low in his throat. “cute.”

you press down harder, angling your hips to catch that perfect spot of friction. his skin smooth and hot beneath you, the slope of his stomach giving you something to ride, his abs twitch with every pass.

a reaction he can’t fake.

you're not even fully grinding yet, just experimentally shifting, and it's already making you dizzy.

the tease of your panties dragging over him, the way the line between his abs fits right between your folds, it's too good. 

“you like that?” he asks, voice rougher now.

your hands land on his chest, nails digging in just enough to make him grunt. “shut up.”

he grins wider, but he stays silent. like he’s challenging you now. like he’s saying, alright. show me.

so you do.

you roll your hips slow at first, letting the drag build pressure. it’s crazy how wet you already are, the fabric of your underwear darkened and clinging, you’re practically soaked through. 

you can feel the mess you’re making on his stomach, feel it smear with every shift of your body.

chan’s jaw tightens, his abs flexing involuntarily under you.

“fuck… look at you,” he mutters.

your thighs burn, but you don’t stop. you grind harder, faster, chasing the friction. the tension builds fast, too fast and you hate that he knows it. hates that he watches you like your desperation is exactly what he wanted in the first place.

you catch his eyes. “don’t just lie there.”

he doesn’t move for a second. 

then his hands are on your hips, gripping tight, guiding you rougher. “then ride me right.”

the way he shifts his body. just slightly, makes his abs clench. it hits you perfectly now. your head falls back, a broken moan slipping from your mouth as you grind down, using him just like he wants.

your clit rubs against the grooves of his abs again and again, and it’s messy now. sloppy, desperate. he holds you there, lets you rut yourself against him like you're completely owned by the pleasure of it.

“look at you fucking soaked,” he growls. “you’re gonna come just from this?”

you nod, moaning as you move faster. there’s no elegance in it anymore. just heat. desperation. your thighs trembling from how close you are.

chan’s breathing sharpens. “you’re close, aren’t you?”

“y-yeah–”

“do it,” he bites out. “rub that pussy all over me. soak me with it. show me how needy you are.”

that’s all it takes.

your whole body locks up, a strangled whine rips from your throat as the orgasm crashes over you. you grind through it, riding the wave as your hips jerk against him, your slick making a mess of his stomach, your thighs still quivering from the aftershocks.

chan just watches, his abs deliberately flexing under you, feeding into your release. he grins.

“good girl.”

you collapse forward, panting against his chest but he grabs your hips again, tilts them down and you feel him, how hard he is beneath his sweats, still untouched.

“hope you’re not done,” he murmurs against your ear. “you made the mess. now you’re gonna ride the rest of me too.”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated ᯓ★

© 2025 ialreadymadeyouapromise !