someonellly

[someonellly]

snow cream

Roommate!Yunho x F!Reader

summary: Six months of living under the same roof, and you barely knew the guy. You both always came and went, to and from your jobs and school, only ever interacting in the kitchen or the living room late at night when you wanted a glass of water or he wanted to watch TV. But when winter rolls around and the snowstorms get heavy, maybe somehow you could warm up to each other…

tags: snowed in, forced proximity(?), attempt at humor, fluff, mutual pining, hand kink (duh), soft mdom, petnames (baby, angel face, pretty girl, slut etc.), Yu LOVES touching you, handjob, nipple sucking, fingering, tension, unprotected sex (BOOOOO), lotus positon, he talks alot, multiple orgasms, aftercare, NOT PROOFREAD

wc: 7.2k

notes: sort of based around a nsfw audio I listened to a couple years ago LMAO.

tracklist: bad liar, poison, intro: singularity

“Reports are flowing in from the NWS about upcoming snowstorms, which are expected to reach record levels; the surrounding area is expecting up to 6 inches. Officials are closing roads and the district schools are shutting down until-”

“Just my luck, huh?” You switched off your phone and rested your head against your steering wheel with an exasperated sigh. You had seen the beginning of the snowfall that week, just light flakes here and there, but they weren't sticking.

But of course mother nature had to give a big fuck you and mess with your plans that weekend with 6 inches of snow. Roads were closing, and so were the stores, so you needed to be in and out before the snowstorm picked up.

You rubbed your temples before switching your car off, getting out, and walking into the grocery store with your original plan in mind.

You had planned to pick up some ingredients for some appetizers you were going to bring to one of your friends' birthdays, but you had frowned when they texted your group chat, saying the party had been cancelled because of snowfall.

That's what led you to the news, deflating your excitement. Instead of being here for groceries, you were here to stock up on supplies. And so was everybody else. The store was packed with people. Mothers are rushing and snatching boxes of cereal off the shelf. Dads are stocking up on batteries and jugs of water. The poor employees were at war with the panicking public. Quickly as you could, you grabbed a cart and picked up some essentials. Batteries. Toilet paper. Bottled water. Some nonperishables. While walking past the home section, you noticed a couple of displays where they were selling large fleece blankets.

You eyed them for a second, debating if you should get one.

Maybe two.

One for you, one for your roommate. Jeong Yunho. 

You had met him on Craigslist whilst looking for roommate listings. You decided community college was best for your budget years ago, but you needed to find somewhere else to live. Soon. Living with your parents is not for the weak.

You spent hours on different websites, desperate to find somewhere close and affordable. Maybe also a roommate who has a low chance of murdering you in your sleep.

You stumbled across the listing one night, hope slowly dwindling at the awful market.

2 bedrooms. 2 baths. 600 per month. Cats are welcome. Email for more information.

Immediately, you jumped on it because there was no way you would be able to find anything cheaper than this, unfortunately. You emailed him all your information. About your job and schedule, and made sure to mention that you would like to bring your cat, Patches. About a week later, you had driven to the house to look around and discuss final plans and agreements. Along with you, you brought your cat so she could become accustomed to the new living space.

The house was cute and quaint, a little grey and white bungalow with a few bushes on either side of the steps that led up to the black door. A decent-sized front yard, neat and green, with a driveway with just enough space for two cars. Perfect. 

When you met the person who posted the listing, you had pulled up to the house, parking your car behind another one already in the driveway. He was on the porch, in the process of carrying some bags inside the house.. When he saw you, he waved for you to follow him inside. He showed you to your room, talked about rent and policies. You both established some privacy rules, and he was petting your cat the entire time. He seemed to take a liking to her immediately. Yunho had you sign some things, and then that was it. Simple, fast, and easy. A few days later, you had moved your stuff in, and from then on, you and Yunho barely interacted.

He said that he’s usually at one of his friends' houses, at work or class, or in his room playing games. This was perfect for you; you enjoyed your privacy, and if you were being honest, you were nervous around Yunho.

He had this boyish charm to him that made your heart flutter; he was tall and spoke to you gently, as if he were too loud, he might scare you. He had dark brown hair that parted in the middle, with bangs that sometimes covered his eyes. And you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that your gaze always drifted to his hands whenever you saw him. Large and slender, the veins prominent like a roadmap.

 He always made sure that you knew where he was going when he went somewhere with a text like “At friends,” or “Out drinking.”

Another thing you had noticed while living with him was that it was like he stole your cat from you. IF you couldn't find your cat anywhere, it was safe to assume she was in Yunho's room. She followed him around the apartment all the time, whenever he sat on the couch to watch TV, she was in his lap. Whenever he was in the kitchen cooking, she was perched on the counter watching intently.

One day, you came home and saw Yunho on the couch with her. Usually, she’d get up and greet you by rubbing her face against your legs. Instead, she stayed put, gave you a curt meow, and that was it.

You walked by the back of the couch and narrowed your eyes at her, mouthing the words “traitor” before retreating to your room.  

You ran your hand over the navy blue fleece blanket that was folded next to a similar white one. Making up your mind, you dropped the blue blanket in your cart as well as the white one. After some more shopping, you checked out and began your drive home, the snow beginning to fall again. 

Your mind wandered back to your roommate again. You're pretty sure he was at a friend's house right now, you just hoped he would make it home safe. Driving home through the snow was certainly a feat. Everyone on the road opted to go under the speed limit in hopes they wouldn't go sliding at a sharp turn. A blanket of white began to accumulate on the ground, and it was growing increasingly difficult to see through the snow swirling in the air.

After a grueling and stressful journey, you returned to the house safely. The yard was a pure, sparkling white, untouched like a fresh, clean blanket. You gathered your bags and stepped out of the car, trudging through the snow as it only continued to climb higher and higher. As you suspected, Yunho’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

You made it inside, the warmth of the heater immediately making you shed your jacket as you dropped the bags on the table. As soon as you did, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out to see a text from Yunho.

“Be home later.” Simple and quick. You thought for a moment whether you should text back. Your fingers began typing, and then you hit send.

“Be safe.” A second later, it buzzed again.

“Will do.”

You felt stupid for the way your heart clenched a little. You could count on three hands how many conversations you’ve had with him that lasted longer than a minute. Words are always fleeting between you two, always too busy for anything more than a good morning or an update on bills. But Yunho always responded to your texts with earnestness, replying fast and confidently. It was never anything deep, but whenever you asked what he wanted for dinner, he always responded with whatever it was he wanted, with a smiley face and a thank you.

He never really engaged in any more conversation than that, but for some reason, you could tell her cared more than he let on.

You put away all the things you bought, deciding to place the blanket you bought for Yunho on the couch so he’d see it when he got home. You cleaned up a little, because if you’re going to be snowed in, at least let the place be neat.

After some light cleaning, you had a shower and decided that for tonight’s dinner, you’d make some chili, so that way you would have leftovers for the upcoming days. Tonight was usually Yunho’s night for meals, but you were feeling froggy.

Connecting your speaker to your phone, you cleaned up your area and put on some music, getting ready to make dinner. You were in your zone, chopping tomatoes and browning the beef. The music flowed from your speaker, and the house was filled with a cozy feeling. You were an avid big light hater, so a few lamps and candles here and there set a soothing ambient lighting. The sun was setting, and the snow was picking up, the wind howling outside.

After another hour or so, dinner was done, and Yunho still wasn’t home. It was 8 pm. He’s usually out past 11, but because of the storm, you had assumed he’d be back earlier. You decided to shoot him a test, for your own mental fortitude. The snow had calmed, gentle snowfall dusting your windows.

“Are you on your way home? I made chili.” Send.

You waited a minute or two. No response. You rested your elbows on the kitchen island, waiting for his reply.

The three bouncing dots appeared at the bottom of your messages, and he was typing.

It stopped for a second, then started up again.

“Can you come outside?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise at such a weird question. You thought he was with his friends. He was typing again.

“Down the street.”

“Stuck in the snow.”

“Please.” 

You were so confused. Quickly, you slipped on your coat and your shoes by the door. You slipped your phone in your pocket and opened your front door. The cold hit your face like a mallet, and immediately your nose started to burn. But it was beautiful outside. Fresh snow everywhere. It was dark outside well into the night, but the snow was so white it was like it provided a little glow of its own. Snowflakes flurried from the sky, landing all over your clothes. You stepped into the front yard, and half of your calf sank completely beneath the surface of the fluff.

You, albeit with some trouble, waded through your front yard and stepped out onto the icy street nearly losing your footing and busting your ass. The neighborhood was silent, not a soul in sight, the end of the street being swallowed in black emptiness. 

But on the other end of the street, a lone car pulled off to the curb, headlights on as the snow swirled around the warm beams of light in a dancing flurry.

Beside it was your roommate, waving at you, bundled in a coat and scarf, grey sweatpants, and a desperate look on his face.

You started to walk towards him, doing your best not to slip and fall. “What the hell is going on?” You exclaim as you walk towards him. His tires were buried in the snow, and his windshield wipers were swaying steadily, clearing the flakes off the glass.

When you were about 6 steps away from reaching him, you began to lose your footing, the ice seeming slicker than before.

“Careful-careful-careful!” Yunho reached his hands forward and took a step in an attempt to catch you, but it was too late. 

“Shit!” your feet slipped from underneath you and after a couple slips and slides fighting to stay up, you ultimately fell directly on your ass, a sharp pain shooting up your tailbone.

You groaned, hand reaching back and rubbing your lower back. Immediately, the wet ice soaked your pants uncomfortably, and you already knew you’d wake up tomorrow with a nasty bruise.

Silence fell as you sat in defeat and mulled your pain, but Yunho was oddly quiet. You raised your eyes to look at him. He had one hand over his mouth. His eyebrows were raised in shock, and his eyes slowly narrowed as he took you in.

“Laugh. I dare you.” You glared at him, wincing at the sharp pain crawling up your tailbone.

“Jeong Yunho, you are a child.” You rolled your eyes as he busted out into a fit of laughter, one hand on his car while the other stayed on his mouth. You turned and got ready to get up so you could hit him.

“N-No wait stop!” he shouted between fits of giggles, his arms coming down and trying to pull you up by your arms, while simultaneously avoiding your violent hands.

“I’m sorry, let me just- hold on- stop trying to hit me (Name)! I'm trying to help you.”

“Well then, stop laughing at me!” His own feet were starting to lose friction on this ice as he felt his body sway as he grabbed you.

“If you don’t stop moving, you’re gonna take us both down!” Yunho tried to manhandle you back up, but unfortunately he lost it and tumbled down right next to you, accidentally yanking you onto your back as he landed on his ass.

“Goddamnit...” Yunho laid back in the snow, seemingly giving up on trying to get either one of you on your feet. You giggled behind your hand as you looked at him, his hair all messy and dusted with snowflakes.

He glanced at you and sighed. “Go ahead. It's only fair.” You took that opportunity to laugh in his face, him lightening up and joining you.

When you both calmed down, you looked behind him at his car. “So what happened, you just got lodged in the snow?”

“Wow, real astute (Name). Did I also mention that it’s snowing outside? How crazy is that?” You moved to smack his shoulder at his smart alecness, but he dodged.

“Stop trying to hit me, and help me move my car.” Bewildered, you watch as he stumbled and tried to stand up, feet slipping here and there as he finally stood upright. Like a baby penguin

“Help you push the car?” You snorted and tried to stand up yourself grunting. “Yeah, that's like not happening. Especially on this ice. You’re just going to have to leave it here until some of the snow melts.” Yunho looked at you like you had just told him something outrageous.

“Are you serious?” He glared at you, noticing how you made no move to come over and start pushing the car. “Insane actually…” he mumbled to himself, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration as he watched the snow fall from the night sky.

“Listen, I made dinner tonight. It's chili. Come home for now, it's cold, and the snow will pick back up again soon. Come inside, and we can worry about this later.” Yunho stopped and seemed to think to himself for a second, before his eyes flicked over to yours.

He looked at you with a surprising gentleness, roving over your face before landing on your lips for a fraction of a second, so fast you didn’t catch it.

“Alright.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, let's go inside. It's okay. We can worry about it later.”

“That's what I said,” you chirped as you turned your back, beginning the slippery journey back to the house.

“I know that's what you said. I was just rephrasing.” Yunho followed behind, shuffling his feet on the ice so he wouldn’t have to pick them up and risk stepping wrong. It was silent on the way back, both of you too focused on not falling again.

You shed your shoes and coat by the door, turning to Yunho and pointing to the rug on the porch.

“Shoes.” You stated. Yunho looked down and removed his shoes, setting them next to yours.

Satisfied you opened the door, you hung your coat on the hanger in the foyer. “I just cleaned the house.” You mumbled to yourself, as if to affirm the reason you made him leave his snow-filled shoes outside.

Yunho followed behind, hanging his own coat and scarf on the rack. You sighed and fell on the couch, groaning in relief at the warmth that surrounded you.

“There’s chili in the kitchen if you want some.” You closed your eyes, basking in the warmth. The pine candle you lit made the house smell so comforting, taking in a deep breath, you heard Yunho’s breath hitch. When you realized he hadn't said anything yet, you peeked open an eye, only to catch him looking away from you.

His arms came up, smoothly directing his gaze down at his hands, fidgeting and playing with his fingers like he was bored.

He was almost caught, your shirt had ridden up when you laid on the couch, exposing your belly and the hem stopping right where your under boob began. Yunho’s brain nearly short-circuited at the sight, wondering what it would feel like to lie to you on his bed and drag his big hands up and down your waist, squeezing and kneading and feeling you…

He blinked, realizing he was much too far in his fantasy, expecting you to be looking at him like he was a pervert. Instead, he caught your eyes glued to his hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world. You blinked once. Twice. Before turning round and snatching up the remote, switching the TV on.

“Like I said, dinner’s in the kitchen. Help yourself.” Quickly gaining your composure like you weren't imagining his fingers inside of you, you switched to a cooking channel and sat on the couch, full attention on the screen.

“What's this?” Yunho tapped the back of the couch. “A blanket?” You didn’t look back at him, too embarrassed to show your face.

“Oh yeah, when I was at the store, I saw they were selling soft blankets, so I got you one.” You shrugged it off. When he didn’t respond, you assumed that he just went to the kitchen to eat.

A few more beats of silence, and you thought you were in the clear from your way too hot roommate, when his gentle, rich voice hit your ears like a truck, and you felt your core clench hard.

“Thank you (Name), you’re such a sweetheart. Thanks for always thinking of me.” 

Like someone just shot you, you whipped your head around to see Yunho holding the blanket in his hands, towering over you, standing behind the couch. His fingers dipping into the soft, navy blue waves of fleece, his lips upturned in a soft smile, and his eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

He was going to kill you. His hair fell in front of his eyes as his hands slowly caressed the blanket he held, his posture was relaxed as his eyes remained fixed on you, and you swear you saw them flick to your lips for a second. 

Your heart stopped and fell to your ass, immediately nervousness took over your body and you felt like a hot mess.

 After a few seconds of silence, Yunho’s smile fell, and his eyebrows knitted, like he was frustrated. He leaned his head back and shoved the blanket in his face, groaning into it.

“Don't… look at me like that.” Yunho’s muffled voice spilled from behind the blanket in his face, and you went rigid. How were you looking at him?

“Well, I don't look at me like that either!” You exclaimed, your voice shaking slightly. Yunho moved the blanket from his face, butting on the back of the couch. His eyes locked with yours again. Every time you looked away, he stepped a little closer, until he was sitting next to you.

“Hey, uh. Back up maybe?” You chided, trying to hide how much of a mess he was able to make of you just by looking at you.

“No.” Yunho challenged, looking at you intently. “Stop looking away and look at me.” So you did, you gazed into his eyes and immediately felt weak. His pupils were BLOWN. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, eyebrows cinched as he stared at you like he was trying to pin you to your spot.

He wasn’t saying anything, but he didn’t look like he was thinking either. He was just staring. You were starting to feel put on the spot, and you were about to make an excuse to go use the bathroom. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Yunho whispered. You nearly choked on your spit, but his hand lifted and dragged his fingertips down the bridge of your nose with feather-light gentleness, along your eyebrow, along your jawline. Like he was mapping out your face.

“Yunho…” You whispered, afraid that if you spoke too loudly, it could shatter the atmosphere. The air was thick, and the wind outside howled as the snow picked up again. The house almost seemed too hot now, and frankly, a snowball to the face wouldn’t be so bad right now. Yunho gnawed on his bottom lip.

“How come you never talk to me?” You suddenly blurted it out, instantly regretting it when it slipped out of your mouth. Yunho, obviously taken aback by your question, paused his touches on your face. He let his hand fall onto his lap and quickly grabbed his hand again, encasing it between your own two.

“What I meant is! Like, why don’t we take or hang out more often? I mean that I would like to, not that you… I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm talking about.” Yunho watched as you stumbled over your words, a smile crossing his face again as he chuckled at your franticness.

“(Name), (Name), stop.” The hand he held in your grasp, gently pulled from you, now holding your wrist. Yunho lowered his head and looked at your hand. Keeping his head down, his eyes lifted to meet yours as his thumb pressed onto the pulse point on the inside of your wrist. His other hand came up to your face, cradling your jaw softly.

Your chest felt like it was going to explode, overwhelmed with how Yunho was so close to you, how he was touching you, how he was looking at you.

“You know, I feel bad. You just thought of me while out shopping and got me a gift, but I don’t have anything for you.” Yunho frowned, dropping his gaze back down to your hand, his fingers tracing lightly up the inside of your arm, drawing circles and stars into your skin.

You shrugged gently, trying to brush it off so you didn't seem like you were expecting something back, because truly you weren’t. You just wanted to get him something.

“It’s nothing, Yu, you don’t have to -“ 

“No, it’s not nothing! Don’t say that.” Yunho squeezed your wrist softly, bringing your arm up and pressing whispers of kisses from your pulse point up your arm, and back down again as he spoke. 

“You’re always so thoughtful. Always checking up on me, making amazing meals for us, looking so pretty all the time.” You swallowed, your face quickly heating up at the praise, and the strain in his voice as he spoke. You struggled to find words to reply to him. You never realized how much he appreciated what you do, and frankly, you didn’t realize how much you did for him. 

“I wanna give you something too.” His eyes flicked up to yours, searching for consent in your eyes. You didn’t say anything. Then you whispered a question, the doubt in your mind creeping into your words.

“Yunho… you don’t have to give me anything-” Before you could continue, he pressed a finger to your lips to stop you from talking.

“Buh buh buh. Stop. This isn’t for you. Well, it is for you, but it's for me too. I want to. I want to take care of you like you take care of me, (Name).” Yunho’s hand landed on your upper thigh, gently kneading it like he was trying to ease the tension, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Is that okay?” The slow, gentle rub on your thigh was comforting, however, not calming in the least. The tendons in his hands flexed as he stroked his hand about the expanse of your leg. He stopped when your thigh tensed, resuming when you opened your mouth to speak.

“Yes.” barely there, in a whisper.

“Words, angel, use them please.” Yunho inched closer to you on the couch, his other hand coming around to cup the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his, his nose just barely brushing against yours.

His smell enveloped you, his bangs tickled your forehead as his staggering breath fanned against your lips. 

“Yes.” You spoke louder, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, testing the waters. “Please.” You expected Yunho to chase your lips, but instead, he just smiled and leaned back.

“I knew it.” Your heart stopped. What's he doing? 

“All this time since you moved in, I thought maybe I was a pervert.” He lifted his hand and gently pushed against your chest, urging you to lie on your back on the couch, your head on the armrest. He slowly crawled over on top of your body, one leg slotted between your thighs with his knee just barely brushing your core, his hands pressing against the couch by the sides of your head. He brought his face down to yours, space nonexistent between you two as his calm breaths mingled with your nervous ones.

His eyes locked on yours, shamelessly flicking to your lips every few seconds. “You’re always looking at my hands, baby. Do you like them?”

Your breath hitched, and embarrassment crept up your spine. Yeah, he had noticed. This wasn't a new fascination of yours. You had always been drawn to hands in a way, but his specifically. The long, nimble fingers, the prominent veins, and the sheer size of his palm. 

Teasingly, he brought his hand up to your face, twisting his wrist to give you a good view. Slowly, he moved his hand down against your throat, his fingertips brushing against the side of your neck softly, up and down, trailing along your collarbones and between your breasts, down until they reached the hem of your shirt.

You watched with bated breath as he teased the hem of your shirt, rubbing it between his fingers, slightly lifting it and letting it fall back down.

“Want me to take it off for you? Undressing you like a gift, yeah?” A quiet whimper slipped from the back of your throat. His hand slipped under your shirt, flattening his large, warm palm against your stomach and caressing your skin gently.

Agonizingly slow, he dragged his hand up, taking his time mapping out your body, his other hand quietly lifting to cup the back of your neck again, pulling your head up to press your forehead against his. His eyes never left you as you felt his calloused fingertips brush against the underside of your breast, tracing light patterns around your areolas so softly it almost tickled. Your stomach clenched at the touch, letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

“You're so soft, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. Can’t believe you're letting me..” His large hand cupped your breast, softly kneading the mound.

His fingers twilled the hair on the nape of your neck, occasionally squeezing the back of your neck reassuringly, like he wanted you to know that he had you. He's gonna take care of you.

“Can you whine for me, honey? I love your voice.” You didn't need to hear that, as he slipped his hand from under your shirt, lifting the hem until it sat under your chin.

“Arms up.” Breaking from your stupor, you lifted your arms as he dragged your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the dim living room. His eyes moved down and locked on your exposed breasts, your nipples hardening in response to the cold.

“There they are. So pretty.” Without warning, his lips crashed with yours, swallowing your whimpers while his hand found your breast again. Messy and slow, his tongue coaxing your lips open for him and slipping into your mouth. He moaned deep into you, his hand massaging your breast roughly as he lost himself in your mouth.

Every buck of his head he tried to push himself closer into you, like he was trying to melt into you, his lips relentless against you, sucking your plush bottom lip and nipping at your tongue teasingly.

Pulling away was hard for him; it almost hurt. He gave himself a moment to take you in. Swollen lips, blown pupils, and frizzy hair. A mess all for him.

His kisses trailed from the back of your ear down your neck and landed around your breasts. Kissing and soothingly running his tongue around them before latching onto your nipple. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, focused on the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your nipple.

Taking this opportunity, his other hand moved from behind your neck and landed on the waistband of your pants, undoing the buttons before slipping his hand past the waistband of your underwear.

Your eyes shot open again at the feeling of his finger tracing a slow deliberate line up your slit, gathering your wetness. You craned your neck to the side, draping your arm over your mouth and avoiding his hot gaze. Yunho clicked his tongue and with surprising ease let his finger press against your opening, sliding perfectly inside of you, his fingertip brushing against your G-spot softly.

“I’m gonna need you to look at me, baby, I can’t give you what you need if you aren't looking at me.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you bit your bottom lip, ripping your arm away from your eyes and slowly focusing your eyes on him. And you almost wished you hadn’t.

His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, pupils blown and hair tousled all around his flushed face. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his hand disappearing between your legs, his cheek pressed up against your breast, his tongue lolling against it, tracing lazy patterns around your areola. His eyes took you in, like you were the most stunning thing he had laid eyes on, which was the truth.

His eyelids fluted before his lips wrapped around your nipple again, kissing, licking and sucking as he started dragging his finger inside of you, curling it just right in that way that made your breathing hitch and your eyes roll.

“Yu-, fuck…” He nipped at your nipple, immediately soothing it with his tongue and pulling off of you with a slick pop.

“I’m trying so hard to be respectful…” He ground out the words like talking hurt his throat. You were finding it hard to focus with the attention he was giving your body, perfectly pressing your buttons and winding you up like a toy. Easily slipping another finger inside your cunt, you let a groan out deep from your chest, turning him on impossibly more.

“But baby, fuck you’re making this so hard for me…” He let his mouth wrap around your other nipple, massaging your hip with his free hand as he sloppily licked you up like candy.

“So good- wish I could eat you all day. I do…” he moaned between kisses on your breasts, switching between suckling them and biting. “I do. I really fucking do…”

Yunho’s fingers press inside of you harder, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. Unbeknownst to you, he was grinding his rock hard cock against the cushion of the couch, desperately trying to ease the pain from how hard he was feeling you soak his fingers like a slut. Your eyes watered, and you were finding it hard to breathe as his long fingers reached spots you never could. You thought back on the times you’d sit on your bed, trying so hard to reach an earth-shattering climax, imagining his fingers fucking you instead of your own. Nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

“Fuck baby, cmon get up. On my lap.” Hazily, you watched as he slipped his fingers out of you, sitting on the couch, legs on the ground. Impatiently, his big hands engulfed each side of your waist and lifted your body with ease to sit on his lap. You bent your knees on either side of his thighs, his cock pressed against your wet cunt.

He craned his neck up to look at you, immediately slotting his lips with yours. Working in tandem, his mouth devoured yours, swallowing you up like he needed you to breathe. One hand cupping your neck and pressing you as close as he could, while the other kneaded the flesh of your ass like a stress toy.

Without thinking, eyes closed as you let him fuck your mouth with his tongue, your hand slipped between your intertwined bodies, fishing his dick from out of his pants, hot and heavy in your hand.

His breath stuttered between his kisses, but his lips never left yours as you wrapped your hand around the upper half, your thumb brushing against the slit on his swollen tip.

He bit your lip accidentally at the stimulation, pulling away from your lips finally to look down at your hand wrapped around him.

His breathing quickened, and his hips bucked, chasing more of your touch as you teasingly played with him. You kept your eyes on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch and his eyes shake.

“Baby, you handle me so f-fucking well…” His moans were quiet, but so loud in the silence of your shared home, the snow howling just outside. 

Your grip lowered, squeezing the base before dragging your hand up and down the length of him. His head lifted again, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, pressing desperate and wet open-mouth kisses on your collarbone, his barely contained whimpers falling against your heated skin.

“Off..” he groaned into you, but too lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your hand, you didn’t quite understand.

“H-huh?”

“Off, off- clothes off. ‘S so hot…” He shimmied underneath, shedding his shorts and nearly ripping his shirt off. 

He grabbed the base of his cock, urging you to lift your hips so he could press his tip against you.

“Nice and slow for me, sweet girl, sit on it. Take your time, don’t wanna hurt yourself…” His eyes locked with yours as you complied with his request, slowly letting your hips sink down on him.

When his tip pressed in, that stupid, lazy boyish smile of his spread across his face, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyebrows cinched, focused on feeling you take him in like he was meant for you.

“There you go, slow… good, mmm, good fucking girl (Name.)” Your breath caught as you continued to lower your hips down onto him. Bottoming out with a groan, your hands gripped his shoulder, your nails digging into the blades.

You both sat there for a second, relishing the intimate feeling of just being connected. Your breaths mingled, and your thighs shook, his hands massaging your waist, squeezing your hips every time they slid back down.

When Yunho finally spoke, it was strained and so quiet you almost couldn’t hear it.

“Rock your hips. Grind on me pretty, take what you need from me. Make yourself feel good.” 

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, moving your hands to cradle his head. Cautiously testing the waters, you rolled your hips forward, his tip perfectly dragging against that sweet spot deep in your tummy. The moan you let out was borderline pornographic; nobody had ever been so deep in you, and the fact that it was Yunho was so overwhelming.

“Oh god…” You moaned, pressing your lips into his hair, gasping and whining into the soft locks. His hands gripped your hips and helped you move, pushing and pulling you, moving you back and forth on his cock.

“That's it… fuck, always knew you’d take me so well. Like me all in your guts baby, huh?” You nod against him, your breath hitching when he lifted you so you slid up his cock and back down. Effectivley using your body to fuck himself into you.

“Don't stop, keep rolling those hips, angel, do not stop.” His hand came up and gripped your throat, maneuvering your head down so he could kiss you again, groaning into your mouth as you did into his as he fucked you up and down on his cock, your hips contining to grind. With every thrust and every flick of his tongue, his fat tip constantly dragged against that spongy spot inside of you.

A smug laugh slipped past his lips as he watched how desperate you were to feel good, and he was feeling really good about himself as he watched you lose yourself on him.

“Yeah, ride it, baby, ride it…” He bucked his hips, smiling wider when your back went taught feeling the pressure inside of you, as he continued to fuck himself into you slowly, dragging your pleasure out as much as he could.

“This is all for you, for being so good to me all these months, for always being so fucking s-sweet and taking care of me…” He thrusted harder with every other word, like he was enunciating how much this meant to him.

“Thank you Yu- fuck, you’re so big thank you ngh..” He nipped at your bottom lip, giving your throat one more squeeze before moving his hand back down to your hips and forcing your hips to bounce on him a little faster.

“My pretty baby takes dick so well. I regret not fucking you sooner, coulda’ had this pussy a longgg time ago.”  Yunho let his finger slip to your clit, rubbing in pressurized circles, dragging the sweetest noises from you.

You opened your mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out were strangled moans and staggering breaths. Yunho understood, though, pressing his lips against yours again.

“Cumming baby?” He whispered into your mouth, smiling when you nodded, unable to speak, too busy focusing on your impending orgasm. “Good, let go. Feel it and let go for me.”

Like the obedient slut you were for him, your spine straightened and you gasped, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking train, shotting from your toes and electrifying your body like you had been shocked, up through your stomach to your brain, making you lightheaded.

When he felt you cum, his hips stuttered in you feeling you clench like a vice and began to speed up. “Yeah, yeah, yeah- good girl, let me fuck you through it, let me get you through it.”

And thats exactly what he did, without letting up the pace, Yunho fucked into you without abandon, the slap of skin on skin echoing around the living room, mixing with your broken whines and his concentrated groans as he made you fall apart like shattered glass around his dick.

“T-too much–!’ you cried when he continued to bully inside you, his fingers still not letting up on your overstimulated clit. “Gonna c-cum again, Yunho!”

Yunho felt himself reaching his peak, but he would do anything to get you to cum again. With newfound rigor, he rolled his hips into you rough, meanly kissing you and sucking your tongue like he was searching for water.

“Again, angel, again. You can do it.” He moaned loudly into your mouth, his fingers opting to rub your clit slower, this time pushing upward, the pressure increasing tenfold.

Yunho twitched inside of you, feeling as you toppled over the edge again, the second orgasm so much more intense than the first. You couldn't breath, cumming two times so close together. Your thighs burned, and your head spun, vision blurring for a second.

Yunho groaned loudly, bucking his hips a few final times before spilling himself inside of you, continuing to roll his hips into you, riding both of your climaxes out.

You slumped onto him, hands at your side as you regained your breath, thighs sticky, and your body stuck to his. Yunho kissed along your shoulder, allowing you to regain your senses as he came down from his high as well.

Slowly, when you were finally breathing normal, he grabbed your waist and lifted you off of him, sighing as he watched his cock slip out of you, placing you back on the couch.

“Don’t move, I'm gonna go grab a rag.” Yunho stood up and walked down the hallway towards the bedroom. He came back a few seconds later, wearing a pair of sweatpants and carrying a black t-shirt, a pair of underwear, and a wet rag.

He sat down on the floor and gently grabbed your ankles to move your legs to face him, spreading them so he could clean between your thighs. He wiped the cold rag along your inner thighs and cleaned you well, before slipping the pair of underwear over your ankles and up around your hips.

“Here, put this on, it might get cold in here again since we’re not fucking like rabbits anymore.” You both laughed as he handed you the t-shirt. You brought it up to your face, inhaling. It was his, and it smelled like him. You felt fuzzy as you slipped it over your head, smiling when you looked down at him.

He was gazing up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, his hands rubbing absentmindedly along your calves, soothing your aching muscles and placing gentle kisses on your ankles, and up your leg to your knee.

“How are you feeling (Name)?” He waited for your response, his hand never ceasing the gentle massaging.

“Do I even need to say?” You smiled at him, and he smiled back, moving to sit next to you on the couch.

“Guess not, moaned loud enough to wake the neighbors.” Instinctively, you smacked his shoulder in disbelief before the words settled in.

Your smile fell, and a worried look crossed your face. “Was I actually?” He let out a hoot of laughter at your reaction.

“I was joking but you were pretty damn loud. It's okay though, cuz you sounded so pretty.” Yunho kissed along your neck, smiling when you twitched from the tickling feeling.

Suddenly, you remembered the dinner that was still in the kitchen, and you stood up and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Come on Yu, I'm fucking starving and you made me forget I made dinner.” Yunho chuckled and stood up, following you to the kitchen to make himself a bowl.

With your food in hand, you sat on the couch together, with you lying between his legs, the back of your head lying against his chest as you ate together. The snow fell quietly, and the TV droned in the background as you basked in each other's presence.

“Does this mean you’ll come out of your man cave more now?” Yunho scowled at you and playfully flicked your forehead.

“Don't get smart with me, young lady…” he paused and smiled. 

“Of course, gotta give my girl the attention she deserves, right?”

[someonellly]

Devour

➾In Which: He's watching. He's drooling. He's so hungry. He's so pent up. He can't decide which way he'd rather devour you.

RATED X. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

❥Jeong Yunho x fem reader

Star's Fairytale July

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere, historical fantasy, DEAD DOVE

➯non-con disclaimer: non-con is NOT okay in real life. this is ONLY EVER acceptable in FICTIONAL settings (and even then it's fucked up)

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: a spin on "Little Red Riding Hood", werewolf yunho / red riding hood reader, reader is smart and cautious but not enough, maybe soul mates (you decide lmao), stalking, yunho eats humans + has enhanced speed and strength + has retractable fangs and claws, fangs and claws put to use against reader (no major injuries) and her grandma (nom-nom-nomming on that granny: he eats her off screen), reader implied to be younger than yunho, forced claiming, crazy size difference. ಠ_ಠnon-con to dub-con, marathon, big ol knot, spit (everywhere), biting and hickeys everywhere, yunho is not only a monster but a needy and nasty one, yuyu insane breeding kink, rough + soft, sweaty, cunnilingus, only slight attempts from yunho to make it even a bit bearable at first, forced orgasm, overstimulation + subsequent dumbification, nasty kissing, copious amounts of werewolf cum, pet names: variations of pretty, little, sweet, thing, precious, girl, deer (yes, as in the animal)

➯a/n: someone said "you can always trust star to cook" and i haven't stopped thinking about it since, i hope i cooked well enough for yall to eat this up kkkkk here's the first fairytale, enjoy <3 ➯a/n2: i don't trust the queue not to eat this so im posting it early ! happy july lmaoooo

♡masterlist + navigation ♡

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18+, MINORS WILL BE EATEN BY WOLVES.

"Are you certain that you remember the path to take?" Your mother fusses over you as she pulls your crimson cloak over your shoulders.

It's the dead of winter, and you're layered up to stay warm on your journey; gloved hands holding your wicker basket tightly.

"Yes, mother. I've been walking it since I was a girl."

"It's been a while, perhaps- yes, perhaps I should just come with you!" You grab her hand as she goes to grab her own coat, smiling reassuringly at her.

"Really," you say with a shrug, "I can make it on my own. You need to stay and tend to the shop. I will be back before long."

She drops her arm with a sigh, nodding slowly, "I shall hold you to that. Don't linger with her too long, you may catch the retched sickness."

"Harsh, mother," you laugh a bit as you pull her into a hug, "I will take good care of her and return home safely."

"You're such a blessing," she smiles, rubbing your back for a moment before pulling back. "Off you get, before you lose the light."

You give her a final smile and head out the door, hearing her yell after you.

"Stay on the path!"

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The hunger is getting near unbearable.

Nearly as bad as the aching in his knot — begging to swell up and lock into something warm.

Yunho stumbles his way closer to the cleared path. He knows it's dangerous. It's off-limits. Humans would try to kill him if they caught onto his lineage. And in his state; they might even be successful.

But the hunger outweighs the nagging in the back of his head that tells him it's a bad idea.

Game is few and far between with such freezing temperatures. And the more time that passes, the weaker he gets. The less likely he is to be able to catch those pesky rabbits that practically taunt him when they scurry away.

Just his luck that he would start rutting during a hunting dry-spell. He needs more energy than ever — and he needs a mate. He'd been toughing it out for the past few years on his own and his wolf is beyond tired of it.

He crouches down just a bit far away from the path, zoning in on it with his sharp vision.

Nothing. He expected as much. Not a lot of humans would venture out of their villages during weather like this.

But — he hears you.

He hears you before he sees you; his ears practically twitching at the sound of small bells.

Food. Food. Food. His wolf chants.

He leans on his palms, looking up and down the length of the path quickly. Where? Where?

He sniffs the air, already standing up straight the very millisecond he gets a whiff of your scent. Swallowing his gathering saliva; he follows it. Using the trees as cover so you'd never see him coming.

He sees you before you even know he's there.

Wandering at a leisurely but meaningful pace, red hood of your cloak hiding your face from the cold — and from him. The jingling bells are attached to the belt on your waist, sounding off with each of your steps; to ward off predators.

You smart thing, you.

Only, it did the exact opposite with this particular predator.

Food. Food. F-

His eyes can't help but fall to the way your skirts move with every step, every small sway of your hips. His lip twitches upward as his fangs push through his gums, a low snarl coming up his throat that makes you stop in your tracks.

Mate. Mate. Mate. The incessant voice in his mind pounds against his head.

Drool slides out of the corner of his mouth without his knowledge, and he barely has the wits about him to duck when you turn to the source of the noise. He crawls ever closer, silent as a mouse, grinning wide as you reach into your cloak and pull out a small dagger from your hip.

He likes when humans have a little fire in them.

Whether he's fucking them or eating them, he likes it when they put up a little bit of a fight.

Will you drive the knife into him if he sinks his teeth into you? Will you try to crawl away if he mounts you here in the dirt?

He can't decide which one he wants the answer to more. His stomach is praying for food, but his cock is already twitching with undeniable need.

He'll have to watch a little longer.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

You can feel... something watching you as you continue on the path.

You try to look around your surroundings. It's just you and the quiet wilderness; no predators to be seen.

You tuck your cloak behind your knife so you can reach it easier and continue on your way.

It's starting to get colder even as the sun just begins its decent. You still have time to make it to your grandmothers home before dark.

You let your mind wander to her as you keep looking around your surroundings diligently. It's been only a few months since you've seen her, but it does feel like a lifetime. Maybe you'll try again to convince her to move away the home your grandfather build for her. It's not safe to be alone so far away from people.

She's just so stubborn. She doesn't want to leave the last thing left of her late husband. Perhaps —

You stop and look around, smiling to yourself as you see some winter flowers a little off the path. Grandmother would appreciate some.

Yunho watches curiously from the other side of the path, inching ever closer to keep his eyes trained on you as you kneel by a patch of purple flowers; drawing your knife to cut the stems.

Your hood keeps slipping further down your face, and you let out a quiet sigh of annoyance before you pull it down.

He was about to take advantage of your distracted and vulnerable position to ambush you when you move the fabric back from your face. He stills immediately, backing back into the woods.

Smart and pretty. And... soft. Soft, that must be the word he's looking for to describe how you look as you gently handle the flowers.

Smart, pretty, soft.

Just what he likes.

Mate! Mate! Mate! His wolf makes up his mind for him, and he springs into action just as you stand.

He runs as fast and as quietly as he can, and he's clearly efficient because he gets well ahead of you without you ever hearing him.

He slumps himself against the trunk of a tree and sprawls his legs out in front of him, ruffling his hair before he rests his head against the bark.

It takes you a few minutes to reach him. He has his eyes closed, but he can hear your steady footsteps falter as you catch a glimpse of him.

He bites his tongue to stop the smirk that wants to come out as you cautiously grow closer; your heartbeat in his ears like a drum over the silence of the forrest around you.

"Fellow?"

He pulls his eyes open quickly, like he's been awakened, stumbling to stand up. He doesn't miss the way you back up. Such a smart girl you must be. And you have such a sweet voice.

"Are-" You hesitate for a moment as he stands to his full height — much taller than yourself even as you stand a few long strides away. "Are you alright?"

"Oh," he stutters like he doesn't know what to say; looking around. "I fear that... that I might be lost."

"Lost?" You ask slowly, looking him up and down, "how have you gotten lost?" He looks suspiciously put together for someone lost in the woods.

"I was just going for a walk and I seem to have gotten turned around." Wrong. He knows exactly how many steps in what exact direction to take to get home. But first — he has to have you.

You hold the basket a little tighter, your instincts tell you that something is... off about this man.

"Could you tell me which way to the nearest village?" He steps forward slowly and nearly moans at how appetizing you smell up close.

"Uhm," he notes that you don't look away as you point behind you. Smart, smart, pretty human. Not stupid like the others who had the misfortune of turning their back to him. "About... four hours that a'way."

"Four...?" He sighs, digging his hands into his pockets like he's cold. He's anything but. He's burning up with the urge to knot you until you give him pups —

He pauses for real. Pups? He's never thought of that with any other person he's wanted to mount.

Maybe it's your awareness, your intelligence when it comes to survival. You'd be good at protecting pups. You keep your shoulders squared and him in your gaze at all times.

Maybe it's how cute you are. Like a deer caught in a hunters aim, blissfully unaware.

Maybe... how good you look in red? He could imagine you all bloody with the gore of his kills —

"-llo?" You tilt your head, eyeing him with mistrust clear in your eyes.

"F-forgive me, I've been a bit... fuzzy. I'm terribly hungry, I've been on the path for a few days." He eyes you just as intently, with hunger in his.

Your eyes flick for a single millisecond, looking back the way you came. If he hadn't eaten in days, he'll never make it to your village.

He's closer when you look back to him, making you jump. But he doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look like he's moved a muscle despite the obvious shrunken distance between you. You force yourself to brush it off.

"I'm on the way to my grandmothers house... It's a much shorter journey, if you would like to find your footing there? I'm sure she can make something filling for you to eat so you can find your way home."

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Eat the grandmother and fuck the girl. Fill your stomach and then fill hers.

"Would you be so kind?" He asks with soft eyes, making you misjudge him. Misleading you into doing so.

Despite your instincts telling you to do otherwise, you nod. "Certainly. It would be disgraceful of me to leave someone out in the cold."

Oh, he will disgrace you in more ways than you can imagine.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Yunho, as he told you, keeps a respectful distance as you lead the way to your grandmothers house.

Small talk is made, but it doesn't things less... tense.

You really do look like a deer in the way that your muscles tense whenever he gets a little too close. When your eyes widened a bit when his hand brushed against yours and took the basket, insisting he carry it for you — it's the least he can do.

It takes every ounce of his self control not to take you right on the path. He wants to be at his full energy so he can really breed you.

And that's what he's decided will be happening. He will eat your grandmother, take you, and drag you back to his home. You are his now, he's made up his mind.

The more time you spend together, the more he looks forward to having you be his mate. For more than just his rut. For ever.

You are smart. You don't reveal extremely personal information, even when he tries to subtly draw it from you. You keep your cloak out of the way of your daggers handle so you can quickly grab it. You never let him get behind you — never let yourself get in a vulnerable position. If he slows down, so do you.

You offer him some bread, you say you baked it yourself. You can provide. He likes meat much more than anything else, but he takes a bite. It's perfect. Soft and fluffy and just a touch of sweetness. He has to bite back a purr of approval.

He tries to get a glimpse at your body under the bundles of fabric over you, but the most he gets it to see how wide your hips are when you press your hands on them. Gods, he wants to grab them. You'll be perfect to drag over his cock, to birth his children.

His wolf is getting impatient. Howling in pain and annoyance.

Right now? Do it now. Now? Yunho, what are you doing? Fuck her now! Claim! Claim her!

If you notice his silence in the last twenty minutes of the walk, you must attribute it to his tiredness and hunger. You don't even think about the possibility of the man being a werewolf. The possibility that he's keeping his lips sealed so you don't notice his fangs.

He's never felt the urge to breed someone — let alone claim them as a lifelong mate. But you? Oh, you... He's going to. He needs to.

He almost collapses with relief when he sees the small cottage in the distance. It's adorable the way your pace picks up. Not knowing you're bringing along death and chaos with you.

"Nana?" You knock on the door a few times before opening it slowly. "Nana, it's (Y/n)! I've brought some medicine from the village."

"My (Y/n)?" Your grandmother shuffles in with a smile on her wrinkled face. "Oh, I would love to hug you, my little angel! But I do not want to give you the sickness-" Her eyes lock on the man who has to quite literally duck to fit into her front door. "Who is this?"

"Oh, grandmother! This is Yunho, he was on the path, he's been lost for quite some time."

He nods politely. Thanking her for inviting him in, she assumes — but really he's thanking her because he's about to eat her.

Her sickness or age doesn't give him any hesitation. He can't catch human viruses, and he finds that meat all tastes the same regardless of age; as long as it's fresh.

"Here," you turn and pull the basket from Yunho's grasp, giving him a small glare when he doesn't immediately hand it over — it makes him want you even more. "I've brought you some herbal medicine that the doctor says will-"

"Come sit down, you've had a long journey! You too," she points to Yunho, and he can see that your sternness and care must run in the family.

How unlucky for you. He likes the idea of your children having those same traits.

He sits across from you at the small table; your legs brushing against each other. He should just get it over with and rip her throat out, you'll probably appreciate if he makes it quick —

You untie the ribbon on the front of your cloak and reveal what you've been hiding.

He swallows quickly as more drool threatens to spill past his lips.

Your bodice is laced up tight and pressing your breasts together, the smallest sliver of cleavage peeking at him as you lean and pour him a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.

He mumbles a quick, jumbled thank you before downing it all in one gulp. It does nothing to quell his thirst. He's craving other things.

"Here, honey," your grandmother sets a bowl in front of you, and then him. "And you keep your medicine, I'm not long for this world anyways."

"Nana!" You chastise her, the crease of your eyebrows pushing together with your pout making Yunho want to jump over the table and lick your face.

If only either of you knew how true her words were.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

You awake in the night, cold air nipping at your legs as the blanket is removed from your small bed.

Heavy panting from above you hits your face in warm puffs. A drop of something just as warm splats onto your cheek.

The room is illuminated by a flickering lantern, casting the shadow of the man who's straddling your hips down on you like an eclipse.

"Yunho-" You whisper his name groggily, fear blooming quickly in your chest.

"I am a wolf." He admits, fangs in his grin to prove it. "And I ate your grandmother."

Your head snaps to her bed quickly — she is nowhere to be found. "Whe-"

"I picked her up from her bed and I took her outside, I ripped her throat out before she even woke up. Don't worry, she didn't feel a thing." He says it so casually that it's hard to even fathom.

You yelp as he leans down and presses his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. "Mmm~"

Everything you've ever been told about werewolves runs through your mind, twice over because you don't fully digest it all the first time.

They're human — somewhat.

But they have claws and fangs that hide until they're ready to sink them into their prey. They have heightened senses: eye sight, hearing, taste. Much more complex than any human can even comprehend. They're faster, stronger, they heal quicker.

These better-than humans were masquerading with your species for centuries before they went their separate ways.

Because the wolves realized that human meat is just as good as animal.

"Don't- don't eat me." You force out a plea, and it makes his cock harder.

After his stomach was full and he washed away the blood from his hands and his neck and his teeth — because he knew you'd probably die of fright, and he can't have that — he was crawling over you with one thing on his mind. Breeding you; until you have no choice but to accept him as your mate lest you want a bastard werewolf pup and nobody to care for it.

You'd surely be an outcast in your village once your baby came out with fangs.

After he takes you home, he'll show you just how good of a mate he can be for you. You don't need to go back to your old life — he won't let you.

"I'll do no such thing." He makes his intentions known when he presses his hips down onto you; making your eyes widen. He pulls away from your neck and looks down at you, a wild smile on his lips. "You are like a little baby deer who's been spotted by a hunter."

He grabs your wrist the moment you move for your dagger that you had set on the table beside you.

"It makes me want to fuck you so badly."

You scream as he pulls you up by his grasp on your wrist, fighting against him with all your might and getting absolutely nowhere.

He's glad he ate before he decided to take you, because you put up a hell of a fight for such a small thing compared to him. If he were still weak, you might have slipped away — might have.

"Please! Please, don't do it!" You yell as you dig your socked heels into the hardwood, cursing the cold weather for making you cover up so well because now you can't gain any traction as he pulls you to the open living space and throws you to the floor.

He practically pounces when you go to scramble away, pinning you to your stomach — leaving you completely vulnerable in the position you've avoided all day long; your back to him.

"You smell so sweet..." He hums with another sniff to your neck, "so... fertile. You'll make such a nice mate." His claws slice through the back of your plain shift, making you freeze below him as the sharp nails threaten your skin. "You are so smart and pretty, just perfect to be the mother of my pups." His drool slips past his lips and drops on your naked shoulder, making you jolt in surprise.

You can't even begin to think of what to do, how to make it out of this unscathed. You shake your head quickly as tears start bubbling up in your eyes.

"Yunho-"

He moans loudly as you voice his name, grinding his bulge against your backside and making the tears slip down your face as you feel just how large the man — the wolf is. Not just in his arousal, but all of him. You couldn't fight him off if you put all of your strength and he only put half of his. He basically blankets your body with his own as he rubs against you.

"Please, I- I'm a virgin." You say it too hesitantly, like it's a question. You aren't a virgin — but maybe if you were, he might have some mercy.

He hears the skip of your heart as you lie. "No, you aren't." He presses his hips harder into you, "I can hear when you're lying, little deer... Why don't you tell me the truth?"

You swallow. Your throat is bone-dry. "I'm not- I'm not a virgin but please! Please, have mercy! I don't want to-"

"I will be honest, because I find myself growing fond of you," he plays with the ends of your hair, letting out a soft sigh, "I do not care what you want. Not tonight. Tonight I will breed you even if I have to pin you to the floor to do so. I don't want to hurt such a pretty thing, so please do try to cooperate."

You sob as he turns you over, refusing to look in his eyes — refusing to look in his direction. "You truly are so beautiful... I wonder if our pups will take after you."

You don't miss the way he says 'pups' this time. As in, more than one. As in, he's going to keep you around until you have as many of his babies as he wants. It makes you cry harder, wrapping your arms around yourself quickly when he goes to pull off the ruined fabric of your shift.

"No!"

"Oh," he laughs, "but, yes." He enjoys your fight, but he's growing ever more impatient. He easily shoves your arms away from your chest and pull the ripped dress away from you; leaving you bare and shivering.

A loud, pleased growl rumbles in his throat as he looks you up and down. "Yes, indeed..." He hums, reaching down and unbuckling his belt hastily, "you are perfect."

You can only shake your head, terrified out of your own body as you watch his belt be tossed across the room, as you hear him shuffling with his pants.

The soft whimper of terror you let out as his lips press against your neck nearly has him cumming.

It's been so long since he was with someone else; especially during a rut.

And you truly are perfect for him. Everything he likes — rolled up into one cute, little, human package.

"If you try to run away," he says lowly against your throat, a threat, "I will fuck you dry. This is a gift I am about to give you, so allow it, okay? A small mercy for my little deer before I split you open."

You don't know what he means until he slides down on the floor on his knees and his face meets your exposed cunt.

It does not feel like mercy when he nudges his nose against your slit and takes a deep breath through it — not mercy at all. Humiliation. Even more so when he opens up his mouth; wrapping his lips around you and dragging his tongue everywhere that is meant to be cherished.

He does not cherish. He devours.

And he doesn't mind your loud crying. If anything — it turns him on more. You sound so sweet and vulnerable. It makes him want to do more. It makes him both want to ruin you and protect you all at the same time.

He's already made up his mind that you belong to him. But every small whine and sniffle drives the grip you have on him in deeper. When you wrap your arms around yourself again — both to hide your chest and to comfort yourself — he smiles into your cunt.

It doesn't matter to your body that you don't want this. His forced and unwanted licks are making your gut turn with something so disgustingly needy. He knows where to lap to make you at least semi-ready for his girth — he thinks 'semi' because he knows he doesn't have the lenience to stretch you out with anything more than his tongue.

His wolf is already howling for him to hurry; to fuck you fast and hard until you cling to him for any sense of stability while he rearranges your guts.

He closes his eyes, willing himself to ignore the noisy voice in the back of his head as he enjoys the taste of you; dipping his tongue inside of you and making you choke on your tears. "S-stop!" You writhe, getting your hips caught in his clawed hands quickly as he hums disagreeingly.

He could eat you out for hours. He doesn't have the time for that, though. Not when he's rutting and desperate to claim you. So he stays for just a few minutes while you kick your legs feebly, crying for him to stop.

"Plea- Get it over with!" You slide your hands to your face, uncaring as your breasts expose themselves to him.

He gives one final, overly aggressive slurp before sitting up. "You really should be saying thank you," he groans while moving his sharp grip to your thighs, spreading them wide. Using all of his excessive drool, he spits right onto your cunt and earns himself a particularly loud whimper of embarrassment from you. "Now you're all wet, it won't hurt... as much."

He knows he's big, all werewolves are. They aren't meant to breed with humans so eagerly — but he can't help himself.

"I ca-" He stops himself as he looks up to you, "move." He gathers your wrists in one of his hands when you make no move to reveal yourself. Pinning them above your head while he moves up to position his hips to yours, "I can't promise I'll be gentle, but I will try to go slow at first. I cant hurt my little deer too badly~"

When you feel him lining himself up with his other hand, you sob somehow even harder. "Yunho! Yunho, wait! Please, y-"

"Shhh, just try to relax, pretty girl," he hums half-heartedly, looking down as he rubs his cock head against you. "Spread your legs further, it will hurt less."

He doesn't know why he bothers to try and make you even a little comfortable. If he were doing this to anyone else — when he did do this to anyone else — he never cared. He'd already be buried inside of you if you weren't so... you.

They were just a means to an end.

You are his mate.

You do the opposite instinctively when he breeches you, only to find it a million times more painful and immediately spread your legs. "You're hurting me!" You scream as though it isn't obvious by your tears and your squirming.

"I know, sweet thing," he says before he licks his lips, his grip tightening on your wrists, "you will grow used to it."

Whether he means the pain or his painful girth, you don't know. You wish he'd keep his mouth shut as he leans over you, whispering through a moan, "you will learn to love it. To love me."

"No-"

His mouth is too hot. Too soul-consuming as he presses it to yours. As he moves against your lips frenziedly. His tongue invading your mouth makes you gag with disgust, makes you twist and turn under him until you realize how badly that hurts.

He's still shoving deeper as he pulls back from the messy affair, gripping your waist tightly. He slides the hand on your wrist up a bit and lets you grab at it; lets you dig your nails in.

It's really taking everything in him not to hurry along and have his entire length inside of you. You're so tight and nearly searing hot around him.

He goes to speak, but it comes out as a low growl; his fangs catching the low light. "Fuck," he breathes, grabbing onto your waist with both of his hands now. His impatience has won. "Scream, cry, throw a fit, I don't care what you do — you're going to take it."

You do scream. You do cry. When he slams his hips the rest of the way to meet yours; your body reacts before you do — slapping him across the face as the stinging pain makes you blank out for a few moments.

And his reaction is the opposite of what you expect after you both realize what you did.

He starts pounding into you, dragging you into his wild hips by his grip on your sides; his claws pricking your skin.

He knew you had some fight in you. It's cute almost, like the rest of you. How you thought a measly slap would deter him from breeding you.

Your arms fall heavy next to you defeatedly, your sobbing making it hard to breathe properly as he fucks the air straight out of you with each mean strike of his hips against yours. Your screams turn into pained gasps and whines, a pout permanently affixed to your lips when they aren't parted to allow you to intake some air.

A pout so precious that it makes Yunho's heart flutter even as he pounds the life out of your poor cunt. His chest rumbles with a pleased growl as he lolls out his tongue and begins lapping at your face even as you try to turn it away.

"Mine." You swear you hear him moan between his messy licks. His hands paw their way up your chest, groping your breasts for a moment before he suddenly leans over you completely and places his hands atop your head; essentially hugging your face to his chest.

"Mine. My mate. All. Fucking. Mine."

You wail into his chest as he gives a punctuating slam with each word before something warm and creamy spreads inside of you. When your frazzled brain pieces together that it's his cum — you almost feel relieved. He's done.

His weight nearly crushes you as he slumps on top of you, grinding his hips into yours slowly. He touches something so deep and personal that it finally makes your hands move again, grabbing onto his back with a yelp from the sharp sensation.

"P-pull out," you plead, "please, you need to- to pull out." Because your body is beginning to betray you again.

"No," he laughs breathily, "not happening, sorry, precious. I have waited far too long for the perfect mate. I will breed you until sunrise."

You don't know if that's even physically possible, how one being could have so much stamina; it doesn't seem like it.

But he starts his in-and-out again, slower this time. You hate this pace even more than the rough and fast one — because this one feels all too intimate as he slowly drags along your abused walls; almost as a soft massage after his brutalizing ways.

"S-stop!" You beg with more urgency as a heat trickles up your spine. "You have- you need to stop!"

He not only hears your heartbeat now, he can feel it pulse around his cock. "Mmm-mm," he moans to say 'no' as he props himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. He can see the spark of panic in your eyes, not because you're still afraid — although you undoubtedly are — but because, "you starting to feel good, little deer?"

"Never," you shake your head quickly, attempting to shove his face away when he starts licking your face again. He slams your hand back down to the floor and laces his fingers with yours, a large smirk on his lips.

"Why deny it, precious? If your body wants to feel good, let it feel good. It's only natural between mates~"

"I am not your mate," you cry quietly as he continues his torturously gentle rhythm.

"You are," he hums after licking a fat stripe along your cheek; savoring the saltiness of your tears. "You are," he says more firmly, squeezing your hand, "look at where you are. Below me, dripping with my seed, taking my cock and enjoying it too~ You are my mate, and I will not tolerate you saying otherwise."

He sits up, digging his length deeper in the process and making you whine. He holds your hand still, resting them over your hip, as his free hand slips further down. Another loud rumble of satisfaction comes from the back of his throat when you squeeze his hand tightly, begging him not to do what you think he's going to —

But he does it anyway; he plays with your clit. You screw your eyes shut quickly, trying to take yourself anywhere but here. You can't. His hips rolling into you is too... pleasant. His touch is too sweet.

One last time, you try, "please, don't make me... Be rough instead, I beg."

"Why would I do such a thing when you look so gorgeous right now?" He chuckles, "don't worry, you will get your fair share of rough before the night is over, sweet deer. But I can tell you like it like this," he emphasizes with a slightly more pressurized swirl over your clit. "And I want my mate to have some pleasure, I am not a monster."

He is. He is a monster. That's what you tell yourself over and over again to try and make your body quit acting like this is even remotely okay.

"Do not humiliate me like this." And it is humiliating, even though there is no one around for hours in any direction. You feel ashamed of your own body, getting pleasure from a werewolf who's eaten someone you loved and taken advantage of your kindness.

"Why should you be humiliated?" He spits down on his length before pushing it back inside of you leisurely. He doesn't need to. His cum is more than enough lube, and you're growing wetter by the second despite your internal conflicts. But he wants to, and so he does. He has zero interest in holding back his desires — unlike your pesky human brain holding onto all of the societal pressure, all of the shame. He can fuck that out of you, though, he knows it.

He usually hates slow. Even when he jerks himself off; it's hard and fast.

But you look so perfect as he stretches you out over and over again with an unhuried and tender pace. He can see every twitch in your face, feel every small clench that you immediately force yourself to relax, hear every shallow and shaky breath you take. Your bottom lip starts trembling in its permanent pout.

"It's meant to feel good," he says, practically purring as he watches your fight dissolve second by second while he pushes you closer to something you don't want. But you're going to take it anyway; he's going to make you.

"I'm the only person you'll ever be with again, so why feel embarrassed? If I'm not the one who's going to make you cum, it won't be happening at all. So, if I were you," he spits onto your clit and rubs it in, "I'd learn to enjoy it sooner, rather than later."

"I h-hate you," you curse as your back arches against your own will, your hips trying to lean into his touch.

"Not for long, little deer," he smiles as he tilts his hips, pressing against something that makes your face hot the second he grazes it, "not for long~"

You let go of his hand, with a bit of struggle because he doesn't want to let you, and slam both your hands over your mouth — because you can no longer hold back your sounds. And you do not want to give him the satisfaction.

It doesn't matter how hard you try to hide your noises; his sensitive ears catch onto them. And they're so much sweeter than your screams. They send a shiver down his spine and a jolt of arousal to his cock. He finds out quite quickly that he enjoys making you feel good — even if you don't want him to.

"I want you to cum," he pants out softly, reversing the direction of the small circles he makes on your clit and making you groan behind your hands. "Cum, and I will stop."

He will not stop. But he will give you a break. Because he knows you will please him greatly as you climax on his girth.

"You will?" You ask hopefully. It almost breaks his heart to lie to you. But you'll come around. You'll have no choice but to.

"Yes, sweet thing," he nods, spitting again onto your cunt to make use of all of his drool.

You don't trust him, not one bit. However, you're at your breaking point. Both physically and mentally.

You let yourself cum. It's so intense that you don't even feel his teeth sinking into your shoulder. Your entire body trembles and — needing something to ground you — you hug him tightly.

And it feels like heaven to him. Filling you up with another round of hot cum as you shake beneath him, as you clench and flutter around his cock, as you hold him. And all while he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and claims you as his.

You only feel it when you come down from your high, a dull ache in your shoulder in your otherwise buzzing body. He licks at it softly, practically radiating joy as he soothes over it with his tongue.

"Mh," he moans softly as he sniffs the air; your scent now mingling deeper with his, "much better~"

He leans up and peers down at you with a toothy grin that makes you shiver. "No more tears, sweet girl," he hums while swiping them off your cheeks with his thumbs, his claws thankfully retracted. "You are all mine, just as it should be."

"W-" You heave, lungs begging for air as your body starts burning up all over again — fiercer than before, "what did you do?"

"I claimed you." He says simply, giving a single, harsh thrust that makes you moan — loudly. His smile turns darker, more lustful. "Now we can really have pups together, and your body knows it~"

He can see the confusion brewing up in your tearful eyes, and he explains as he trails his hands down your neck to your chest, "now that you bear my mark, we have a better chance of breeding together. Especially since you're a human — it's a connection beyond the physical. Do you feel it?"

Unfortunately — yes.

Your body is begging for him with such intensity that your mind can't help but follow, can't help but search for relief. But you won't admit that. Not yet, at least. You're still deathly ashamed.

You grip the fabric on his sleeves, finally looking at him. You only get to do so for a split second; because when your eyes meet his, he starts thrusting into you mercilessly — your eyes rolling back as he repeatedly glides along your g-spot. "Please!"

And it doesn't sound like your regular pleadings for him to stop. No, not like those at all.

"Yunho, I need you!"

There it is.

He'd have bitten you sooner if he knew this is how you'd react. Bucking your hips into his and clinging to his sleeves and crying his name so saccharine-like.

"Don't you worry, precious," he growls as he buries his face in your neck, kissing and licking wildly. "I will take care of you~"

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

How long have you been in this position? How long has Yunho been fucking you into the cold floor?

You can hardly feel your legs, your shoulders are aching from laying on the hardwood, your hips are practically numb from being pounded against it.

Your neck and shoulders are covered with love-bites and bruises. There's a puddle of cum beneath you.

Your body is still burning hot, and you can't think of a single reason to explain how or why. You've came four times by now — five? You don't think you were ever keeping track to begin with.

And Yunho is showing no signs of slowing down.

His hands slip a bit as he readjusts his grip on your sweaty waist, a low moan leaving his lips as he pulls you into him. "Fuck-" He groans from his place nuzzling your abused neck, "want to stay inside you forever~"

You whine softly, voice raw from all of the moaning and screaming of before. Not because his words — his words don't bother you anymore; in fact, you don't see the problem with anything he says. You whine because you keep slipping further away on the floor; slick with your sweat.

"Yunho-" Your soft call of his name gets the response it always does — a low, content growl and a few particularly rough slams of his hips which make you see stars. "T-" The words die quickly on your tongue, unable to think of anything other than how fucking fantastic his cock feels inside of your overly wet cunt.

"What, pretty girl?" He asks gently, like he isn't still using your hole like a personal toy.

"Need- to move," you pout up at him as he comes up from your neck, "please?"

For once, he listens to your begging. He slows his hips to a stop, grinding against you. "Why?" He doesn't want to pull out for even a second, so he hopes you don't actually have a good reason.

"M'hurting," you sigh as you fidget below him, "and sliding away."

He can't help but chuckle a little bit. You do have a point; you've been against the hard ground for about two hours now and he's had to keep his grip tighter and tighter as time went on.

His wolf is begging not to pull out; to just knot you here and now. But he knows he still has more pent up energy, more cum to fuck into you before he finally knots you.

And the flustered and embarrassed way you ask for a different position makes his heart skip a beat.

"Hm," he leans and pecks your lips as he slowly pulls out, "okay, sweet thing."

You clench around him at the nickname, and he just about slams back into you before he stops himself. "Fuck, you can't do that to me," he chuckles breathlessly as he finally slides out.

"Sorry," you stutter, breathing much heavier than him although he was the one making all of the brutal movements.

A small wave of cum floods out of you, his cock twitching as he watches. "Gods, look at you~ Such a perfect little mate..."

You whine as he helps to sit you up, your body aching with protest. "Be gentle..." You whisper, fully expecting the opposite to come.

"My delicate little deer," he smiles — one so soft and tender that you can't help but lock onto it. "Can you even stand?"

You brace yourself on your hands and try to push yourself up, falling right back down with a quiet cry.

"Aw, yeah, I didn't think so," he laughs a bit, wrapping his arms around you, "come on, pretty girl, I will help you." He's gentle. Holding you like a porcelain doll.

You latch your arms around his neck, whimpering as he lifts you to your feet. He could easily carry you, take all of your weight off your weakened legs, but he doesn't. Not yet.

He looks down at you, smile still on his lips. "Let me see," he hums, tilting your head to the side to get a good look at the mark on your shoulder; still supporting you with one arm around you.

He had opened his jaw so wide that only half of the wound is visible from the front. The other half on the back. He could have bitten an entire chunk of your shoulder out. But he didn't.

The angry bite mark is just a nibble — a token of his affection.

"And to think I was going to eat you," he giggles, tracing just around the edges. "How stupid that would have been of me~"

What response you might have had is stolen away as he leans down and kisses you; all tongue and lust. He cups your neck softly, angling you to better slot his mouth with yours.

You don't gag this time, but you don't move to kiss him back. Not at first. You grab onto his sweater tightly as you wobble, a soft moan breaking in your throat as he traces your tongue with his.

Your tongue twitches with a mind of its own, extending a bit to give him better access. It's his turn to moan now.

He pulls back, guiding your mouth back open when you go to close it. "Open," and when you do, he spits onto your tongue; making you jolt. He pushes your jaw closed gently while you're dazed, and you swallow without thinking.

"What a good fucking girl," he grins like a madman, yanking you up off your feet before you know what's happening — placing you in your small bed. "My good girl." He licks up your stomach as he straddles you, climbing up slowly. "Mh... You're so adorable when you shiver."

You hadn't even noticed you were shivering until he said something. Your sweat growing cold as your heartbeat slowly evens out and making the winter air that seeps in even colder.

"But I can't have you freezing to death, now can I?" He pulls his large sweater off, leaving him naked from the waist up and his cock pulled out of his pants — which are ruined with cum and arousal.

He shushes you softly when you whine, your body aching as he lifts your torso to help you pull it on. It drowns you, as does his scent that wafts off of it. Like the Earth sprinkled in cinnamon. It's oddly... comforting.

"Fucking hell," he chuckles in disbelief, "how do you keep getting even cuter?" He kisses you again before you can think of an answer, even though it was probably rhetorical. It's just a small peck this time, as he slides your legs to dangle off either side of the bed. "You are only ever allowed to wear my clothes. Mine or you go naked, I'm okay with either."

"Are-" You stop yourself. You don't know if you want the answer to the question on your mind.

"Hm?" He hums as he lines himself up again, scrambling your brains as he slides into you quickly.

"A-are you really going to- to keep me?" The words taste a bit sour on your tongue, but the sweetness of his soft thrusts overpowers it. You can't think of a better way to word it.

"Of course, I am," he says without hesitation. "You are my mate." He slides his hands up your thighs tenderly, rubbing your sore hips as he stills deep inside of you. "Do you doubt me, little deer?"

"Why me?" You swallow thickly, hands hesitating before resting over his.

"I like you." He offers simply, before he realizes you probably want more of an answer than that. "You are pretty, and more than that, you are smart. I like that. You can take good care of our pups. And... you look nice in red. It's my favorite color."

You stare up at him, dumb-founded. "Wh-"

"Don't worry your pretty head about it, sweet thing," he kisses your head before he begins moving inside of you again; shutting you up and knocking the thoughts from your brain.

He can't really explain it. It's definitely more than what he said — but how could he put into words that he feels drawn to you like a moth to a flame or a predator to a defenseless prey? That he would very well hunt you to the ends of the Earth if you try to leave? That he wants to kill anyone who's ever touched you? That he wants to provide for you and have you provide for his pups?

He would just sound insane.

Humans don't understand that werewolves instincts go further than they can comprehend. Sometimes they just know.

And he knows.

"Yunho!" Your scream pulls him from his thoughts, realizing that he's digging his nails into your hips so hard that he's drawing blood as if he were using his claws.

"Sorry," he breathes, leaning and kissing you shakily, the smell of your blood making him drool right into your mouth. He rests his forehead against yours, never slowing in his pace, "I'm sorry, precious. I just want to knot you so bad..."

The flash of confusion in your eyes makes him excited. "Fuck, fuck!" He grits his teeth as his fangs expose themselves, letting go of you so he doesn't do more damage as his claws do the same. They slice into the pillow under your head as he grips it tightly. "You sweet, sweet girl," he growls as he hooks a leg over yours, pounding deeper, "you have no idea~"

You don't. And you can't think of what he might mean because you're too busy cumming on his length when he prods all new spots inside of you.

You wrap your arms around him tightly as he lays over you, trembling as he fucks you through and past your peak. You've learned quickly that he won't stop just because you've came. He doesn't give you a moment of rest.

You cry into his chest. Not because of pain or fear this time. Because your cunt is about to reach its limit and you still aren't satisfied.

Something deeper than sex is going on, and you don't have even the slightest amount of brain power to try and figure it out.

He didn't tell you that you won't be satisfied until he is as well. He didn't tell you that him claiming you meant a little piece of his soul is yours now.

A wolf sinking their teeth into something without killing it is a most intimate affair. That's why he's never done it. He always bites to kill. He never wanted anyone to survive a bite from him.

Anyone but you.

He's never wanted to breed anyone but you either. "It will frighten you at f-first," he stutters as he feels his knot swelling up slowly, "but you will take it, yes?"

Although you don't know what you're agreeing to — if you even really have a say is more than debatable — you nod into his chest quickly, clinging to him.

"Good." He balls up his hands, hiding his claws in his fists before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you just as tightly.

You yelp in shock as he bottoms out, a slightly larger round thickness at his base stretching you out. Before you can move, before you can think — it grows. Slow and steadily.

Your jaw drops. Both in disbelief and relief; because you're thrown over the edge of your pleasure and you finally feel satisfied.

Because he's satisfied. Stretching you to your limit and then some. Making sure none of his cum can possibly seep out before he lets go with a shiver and a loud moan and fills you up.

You can't do anything other than hug him, clutching his back like a lifeline.

He lets out a small growl before all but collapsing on top of you, panting heavily and squeezing you to his chest when you fidget. "Stay. Still." He warns, "unless you want another round after my knot goes down."

Considering that this round has lasted, at the very minimum, three hours; you stay still. You can feel your heartbeat in your stretched and sore cunt, and you bet he can too.

He can. And it gives him a sense of calm as it slows down to a steady thump. You're relaxing. With something so inhuman and strange buried inside of you that's attached to someone who's done unspeakable things to you — you're relaxing in his arms.

You try to convince yourself it's because of the physical exhaustion. But then he places a kiss to your head.

And you know it's not.

Because something in the back of your mind says; 'mate'.

· · ─ ·DEVOUR· ─ · ·

[someonellly]

Kpop Fic Masterpost

(last updated February 20th, 2024.)

Ateez:

Tell Me To Stop - Hongjoong x Reader

I Remember - Seonghwa x Reader

The Best Friend’s Code: Masterpost -  Hongjoong, Seonghwa x Reader

It’s Terribly Hot Today: Seonghwa x Reader 

Try Me: Part One / Part Two -  Wooyoung x Reader 

Addicting Kitten: Masterpost -  Seonghwa x Reader 

All In - Mingi x Reader

What Happens in a Blackout… - Hongjoong x Reader

We Ransacked The City: Masterpost -  Hongjoong, Seonghwa x Reader

Once - Mingi x Reader 

Kiss of Chaos: Masterpost -  Seonghwa x Reader 

The Town at the Edge of the World - Seonghwa x Reader 

Properly - Seonghwa x Reader 

Nuclear Baby: Masterpost - Seonghwa x Reader

Bubblegum Heart - Seonghwa x Reader

A Little Less Lonely - Seonghwa x Reader

Blue Hawaii - Seonghwa x Reader

Arrow in the Dark: Masterpost - Seonghwa x Reader

Off Limits - Seonghwa x Reader

No Secrets at Christmas: Masterpost - Seonghwa x Reader

One Question - Seonghwa x Reader, Mingi x Reader, Seonghwa x Mingi

♥ Lonely in Gorgeous ♥ - Seonghwa x Reader

Everyday at the Bus Stop ♡ - Seonghwa x Reader

Wallflower: Masterpost - Seonghwa x Reader

Attention - Seonghwa x Reader

Declaration - Hongjoong x Reader

Video Girl - Seonghwa x Reader

Nasty - Seonghwa x Reader

The Heart’s Filthy Lesson - Seonghwa x Reader

Taemin:

The New Years Cake Mishap - Taemin x Reader - safe for work

Secrets on the Train - Taemin x Reader 

The First Night in Atlantis - Taemin x Reader 

Bad Day Only He Can Fix - Taemin x Reader 

Strangers in Neon - Taemin x Reader 

New Killer Star - Taemin x Reader

Stray Kids:

The Trouble Began in the Summer - Bang Chan x Reader

Just For Tonight - Bang Chan x Reader

Twice

I Know You Want To - Jihyo x Reader

Strawberries & Coconuts - Jihyo x Reader

STAR WARS MASTERPOST HERE.

[someonellly]

prefects and t(h)reats

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you haven't been lurking the castle at night since the day you cost your house a lot of points and the slytherin prefect scolded you. long enough has passed, and you might want to start doing that again. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: harry potter universe, slytherin!seonghwa, hufflepuff!reader, smut, bit of angst (seonghwa being a piece of shit(basic slytherin) towards the reader and her friends) 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: spanking, hair pulling, choking, finger sucking, fingering, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism, unprotected sex, semi-public?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: idk, cursing i guess 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: something got fucked in the process of posting this so if you see any repeating paragraphs do let me know my eyes aren't working anymore :D !everyone is of age, regardless of the year they are in. also, i may or may not have a finger sucking kink or whatever you call that :) also, i so did NOT use a twd negan reference here. just ignore that.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"ugh! that snape will be the reason i get sent to azkaban, mark my words! i spent ages trying to perfect that mood colour changing sweater, and he just confiscated- wait, what?"

"what, what is it?"

"did our bloody house points get deducted again?"

just your luck, you need to pass by them to get to your next class. you wish you had perfected the disillusionment charm, it would be very helpful right now.

"you."

ignoring the voice that speaks clearly to you, you hug your books to your chest and quicken your pace, attempting to ascend the stone stairs and vanish into the divination classroom. suddenly, your elbows are seized by two familiar pairs of hands, drawing you back to stand before the house points display. indeed, the hourglass under the hufflepuff banner is noticeably less full than it was just the day before. and it may or may not be your fault. again.

"listen to me, honeydukes." wayne, your fellow housemate warns.

"don't call me that!" you still struggle to understand how you acquired that nickname, especially since you rarely visit honeydukes these days. that habit faded after your teeth nearly succumbed to decay from all the cotton candy and chocolate frogs.

"if you keep this up, you are going to be the reason i end up in azkaban. got it?" he points a finger at your face, causing you to stumble back.

"you have a week to get at least twenty points back. if you don't..." the other one, justin, also points his finger at you, "...i'll make your remaining years at hogwarts miserable. we are the lousiest house anyway, why do you have to make it worse?"

"yeah, what do you even do to make us lose house points?"

"i bet she pisses off prefects."

"or bothers professors outside the class, the know-it-all."

"i don't care if you have to duel harry potter himself, you'll get those points back."

"and when you do, you'll get double and triple that, and make sure we win this year."

"it is only fair, since you're costing us so much."

with each accusation hurled at you, you retreat, hoping to flee the verbal attack before tears betray you and worsen the situation. a high pitched noise invades your ears, drowning out their voices. so intent on avoiding their accusing fingers, you fail to notice the brink of the top stair until your foot falters and balance is lost. you gasp, eyes shut, bracing for the impact of cold stone against your skull.

"levioso!"

yet it never comes. your body is stuck in the air, right above the stairs. all the noise and fuss has left the main hall, resulting in you being too scared to open your eyes.

"accio."

but you are forced to open them, ears picking up quiet murmuring, mainly coming from girls. your eyes meet dark brown ones, stone cold with a serious expression. his black swirly wand is directed at you, levitating your body through the air until you're brought back to the top of the stairs. you finally regain control of it, hands hurriedly fixing the robe and covering yourself.

"you fools." he speaks, eyes not leaving yours.

your lip trembles, and eyes well up with tears. park seonghwa is the one person you do not wish to anger and disappoint. your admiration for him hasn't stopped growing since the day he came to this school. park seonghwa, the slytherin prince. slender frame, porcelain skin, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, plump lips, dark eyes, and an immpeccable posture. he walked the castle with such grace, his cloak following him and flowing in the air behind him. whether it was magic or not, you found yourself utterly captivated, not just by his cloak, but by his very essence. he was, in a word, beautiful.

"i'm- i'm sorry-" you stutter, the sentence not yet formed in your brain. is this really how your first encounter with him will go?

"you absolute fools." he turns around, facing the two boys.

wayne and justin are now the ones stumbling back, audibly gulping. "we're sorry, seonghwa."

"all that over house points?" seonghwa scoffs in disbelief, "well, guess what? you just cost your own house fifty points."

the entire great hall gasps, not used to seeing the prefect this enraged and stern. he avoids public confrontations, curious eyes and gossipy mouths, always opting to pull the troublemakers aside to scold them. he also mostly deducts five points, ten at most. but fifty?

"show is over. go to your classes." he orders to the crowd, and they waste no time in continuing their journey to their classrooms.

overwhelmed by the unfolding situation, you find yourself unable to move. your gaze fixes on seonghwa's polished black shoes, unsure of your next action or words. your first encounter with him wasn't supposed to unfold this way. you intended to sweep him off his feet, exuding confidence and the like. embarrassing yourself and struggling to hold back tears while avoiding his gaze was never in the plan.

"hey, honeydukes. are you alright?"

"i'm fi- honeydukes?" you look at him, brows furrowed. "you know about that nickname?"

he tilts his head, chuckling. "i gave you that nickname."

"you... you gave me that nickname?! do you have any idea how freaking annoying it is..."

"okay, calm down now."

"...to be called that all day every day? even when i've stopped visiting that bloody shop..."

"listen to me."

"...it's haunting me! how dare you?!"

your protest is silenced as he steps closer, cradling your jaw in the palm of his hand to lift your face towards his. the way his dark eyes look down on you makes you feel small and fragile, only being safe because he's holding you. you swallow hard, lips pressed tightly together, not yet trusting yourself to speak.

"i gave you that nickname when i first saw you. in hogsmeade, at honeydukes. i had never seen anyone eat cotton candy so cutely, and nobody would tell me your name until recently i heard it myself. so you became honeydukes. not my fault the rest heard it from me and decided to make their own version of it."

"still..." you are stubborn, not willing to let go so easily.

"tell you what..." he reaches into his pocket, taking out something shiny. you notice it is one of those wrapped chocolate balls, and coincidentally your favorite flavour. "accept this as an apology, and stop sneaking around the library at night. you're going to cost your house more points. and us prefects our sanity."

"a candy? you're bribing me?" you scoff.

he chuckles, then puts one end of the wrapper between his pearly white teeth, while his other hand still holds your jaw. he tugs at the opposite end of the wrapper, loosening it and making the treat more accessible. letting the wrapper drop to the ground, the shiny chocolate appears all the more enticing between his slender fingers.

"open up for me."

lips slowly peeling open, you allow his slender fingers to slip past them and place the treat on your tongue.

"that's a good girl." he purrs, eyes focused on the way your tongue swirls around the chocolate and his fingers. he takes them out, and catching you by surprise, puts them inside his mouth. "well, then. you better get to class."

you nod, gulping and hugging your books to your chest. not knowing what to say to that, or what to say at all, you turn around, ready to get to your next class. but he stops you once again, playfulness evident in his voice.

"and i mean it. stop sneaking around the castle at night. not that i hate other forms of punishment, i don't think it's something you'd enjoy. besides, you need sleep, especially with the upcoming exams."

"okay."

"what? didn't quite catch that."

"yes, sir!" you yell, annoyed and already running up the stairs, almost tripping on your cloak.

"atta girl." seonghwa smiles proudly, walking in the direction of his next class.

you used to love hogsmeade. then you hated it. now, you love it again. winter has wrapped the village in a festive mood, with christmas just around the corner. streets are dripping with decorations, lights and christmas trees. enchanted instruments are singing songs on the street, people are rushing to buy presents already, and hermione and ron are bickering as always. harry walks by your side, mesmerized by the amount of lights decorating the balconies of the villagers.

"we always go get stupid butterbeers. let's try something else for once!" the girl complains, growing sick of the habit the four of you have formed when arriving at hogsmeade.

"yes, but... it's butterbeer. what else is there to try?" the ginger says, opting for the simple routine.

"merlin, i don't know! just- ugh. what do you say, honeydukes?"

ever since you told them about the incident at the great hall, they've called you nothing but that. you don't hate it anymore. if anything, it reminds you of the slytherin prefect every time you are called. and you don't hate that either.

"i think..." just as you are about to agree with hermione, your eyes notice a group of slytherins entering the three broomsticks. thus, "...ron is right. i mean, butterbeer is butterbeer."

"so bland. fine, let's go."

upon entering, you realize that you have to fight your way to the seats. it is crowded, as though all of hogwarts has chosen the same time and place for drinks. ron is stubborn, tugging hermione, who tugs you, who tugs harry. the wizard chain somehow makes it through the singing and dancing crowd, reaching the end of the tavern and big table where you usually sit. only to find the place occupied.

"hey, that's our seats!" ron complains, pointing at the slytherin boys.

"oh, no. how dare they take our unassigned assigned seats?" the girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"go on, honeydukes. say something."

you look at the boy who remained silent until now, confused. "me? why me?"

"well, it's your little boyfriend sitting there. maybe he'll listen to you."

"harry-!" before you can protest, you are nudged in front of the table, prompting all the boys at the table to halt their conversation and turn their heads to look at you. seonghwa raises an eyebrow, amused.

"what is it, half blood?" draco snickers, glancing over at seonghwa for approval. but when seonghwa doesn't acknowledge him, he settles down, hiding behind his half full glass of butterbeer.

"uh, my friends and i... we were just wondering..." you look behind at the three of them, who stand waiting politely as if you were their mother arranging a play date. "...if you could scoot over and let us have one side of the table? since it is a sharing table... and there's only four of us... and four of you. or not. i mean, if you want to. if you don't, that's fine. i'm not ordering you, i'm just... actually, we don't need it. sorry for bothering you. we'll leave now."

you turn around, cheeks and tips of ears ablaze with embarrassment. the trio looks at you with mouths open wide, wondering just what the hell happened to you.

"what the bloody hell was that?" ron says, eyebrows furrowed.

"i-"

"honeydukes?"

your body responds to his voice immediately, turning around and eyes locking into his. he smiles at you, then waves towards the seats that are now empty.

"ah, sweet!" harry cheers, and the two boys throw their belongings on the chairs and rush to the bar to order.

hermione takes a seat first, choosing a spot as far from them as possible. this leaves you with only one option: the chair next to blaise zabini, the boy who, after Seonghwa and Draco, had the most admirers. he doesn't acknowledge you, nor does anyone else, until you start gossiping with hermione and she abruptly stops mid-sentence.

"he's looking at you."

"what? who is?" your head starts to turn itself before thinking, but hermione is quick to slap your arm. "ow!"

"don't look! that prefect, seonghwa. he's looking at you so intensely. it's scary."

"like, scary scary or hot kinda scary?"

"well, i-" she stutters, not yet used to being this open with anyone yet. "the latter."

the boys arrive, ron holding the drinks and harry holding bowls of snacks. they almost throw them on the table, and ron doesn't even wait to sit before taking a big sip of his drink. harry digs into his loaded chips, not intending on offering anyone a bite or two.

the conversation at the other end of the table ceases, causing ron to set his glass down and harry to stop trying to fit the entire bowl into his cheeks. you look at both ends, the situation looking funny, especially with hermione looking embarrassed next to you. the slytherin boys exude sophistication, taking delicate sips of their drinks, sharing a bowl of spicy chili treats, conversing in hushed tones, and maintaining an overall neat and respectful demeanor. the gryffindor boys are a complete contrast; ron with his butterbeer moustache, harry with sauce smeared on his cheek, both flushed and almost reeking of sweat already.

"wufnt sum?" harry says with his mouth full, nudging his half empty bowl towards the other group.

they all look at the prefect, as if he decides whether they can have some or not. "no, thank you, potter. you seem to be enjoying it too much for me to take it away from you. i'd feel bad."

 the groups snickers, and something twitches inside of you. seeing the prefect's cocky and arrogant smile, your interest in him falters. he's no longer looking at you, not even sparing you glances. entertaining his group and bullying the gryffindor boys seemed to be way more interesting. and you've had enough of it.

"so... nice moustache weasley."

"right, we get it." you almost yell, causing them to stop and turn their heads at you. "you're all so smart, and perfect, and purebloods, and we are just laughing stock. i don't need to listen to this, and neither do they."

"oh, feisty." draco comments, earning a glare from seonghwa.

"right, honeydukes. i apologize for my behaviour." the dark haired slytherin smiles at you, but your face stays the same.

"it's not me you should be apologizing to."

"are you dense? how dare you talk to him like that?" the young boy doesn't give up, wanting to fight you no matter what.

"malfoy, sit back." seonghwa says, putting a hand on draco's chest. "potter, weasley. i apologize for my comments."

"'s alright."

"yeah, no worries." they mumble, gazes locked on the table.

awkward silence swallows your corner of the tavern, with the people only staring at the middle of the table and only breathing. seonghwa then slides the untouched bowl of chili treats in the middle, causing the group to look at him.

"how about a game? you know, that muggle one, never have i ever? for each thing that you did, you need to eat a handful of these. you in, gryffindor?"

eager to prove themselves, they straighten their clothes and backs, and focus. hermione sits back, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. ron nudges her with his elbow, and she rolls her eyes and joins in.

"hufflepuff?" the dark eyed boy tilts his head.

"sure, whatever."

"alright, then. game on."

it starts with innocent questions, such as cheating on exams and gossips. then, it progressively gets more serious and more...

"never have i ever made out with someone in the astronomy tower?"

sexual.

you are not shocked to see that blaise and seonghwa are taking a handful of the spicy treats, but your jaw drops when ron and hermione do the same, exchanging a single glance before blushing and shoving the handful in their mouths. harry shares his surprise with you, jaw equally hanging.

"well, well. little miss granger." seonghwa teases. "good job, ron boy."

"never have i ever... done more than dry humping in an empty owlery?" harry surprises the table with his question.

"what?! you've done that?!" hermione is almost in his face, surprised how she didn't know this about her best friend.

"i might've..." the chosen one smiles, wasting no time in burning his tongue with the treats once again.

your side of the table seems to retreat after that question, the slytherin boys asking about things you didn't ever think of. things that would have dubmbledore kick you out of the school, through the very same astronomy tower everyone seems to mention. the game eventually grows into a conversation, discussing who their favorite partner was, what their most risky situation was, and who they have an eye on recently.

"what about you, honeydukes?" blaise asks, using seonghwa's nickname for you. it just doesn't hit the same.

"what about me?"

"nothing to share? no risky business, no partners, no bad sexual experiences? i mean, have you had any experience at all?"

"of course i have. i'm not a virgin, if that's what you're implying. i've had more bad ones than good ones. having me jerk someone off under the desk while learning about amortentia wasn't exactly my cup of tea."

"oh, you poor thing." draco coos, mockingly.

they all eventually let go, and when you realize that seonghwa hasn't made a comment about you in a while, you look at him. he is already observing you, his expression unreadable. his eyes roam your face, then your hair, and finally your clothes. you feel small under his intense gaze, and you find yourself squirming on the wooden chair. when his eyes catch yours, he blinks, then looks away.

after a morning of intense studying, practicing flying, and rushing to hogsmeade for potions supplies for the exam tomorrow, you end up sleeping the entire afternoon. when you wake up, it is dark. you hate wasting days, especially because winter ones are so short. you haven't done anything fun for yourself these few weeks, only studying and avoiding the slytherin prefect.

he might've noticed, or perhaps not. you've noticed a few glances here and there, but the hogsmeade encounter made your feelings for him fade. it wasn't a major crush after all, just simple admiration. maybe liking. regardless, he doesn't get in your way. meaning, it might be safe to have one of those late night adventures through the castle. your disillusionment charm has improved, and you'll finally put it to good use.

wearing nothing but your yellow sleeping attire, you slip out of the dormitory and head to the library. the ghosts don't bother you, even if you didn't cast the charm yet. they must've found another victim, especially peeves. that bastard.

no prefect in sight either, which makes you wonder if you're really being that subtle and successful in your late night escapade. perhaps they're toying with you, letting you reach the doors of the library just to stop you and punish you.

yet, it doesn't happen. not when you reach the door, not when you slip past them, and not when you reach the restricted section.

"lumos." you chant, then put the handle of the wand between your teeth so you can see the shelves better.

how sad, you think, sneaking out at night only to come to a library.

mid book browsing, you hear footsteps. hurriedly twirling your wand around yourself, you cast the charm, and crouch.

"nox," you whisper, the wand no longer emitting light from its tip.

the footsteps get closer, with faint whistling being heard. whoever it is, they're either completely oblivious, or they're just keeping you at the edge before revealing themselves.

"little pig, little pig..." the voice sings, and you gasp.

the slytherin prince himself roams the library's forbidden section, each footstep sounding closer to you. you get on your hands and knees, crawling among the shelves in search for a way out. but from this perspective, everything looks different. after all, this isn't your usual view.

"let," step, "me," step, "in."

a hand grabs your hair from behind, pulling your head back just enough to make you yelp. the disillusionment charm wears off, and you groan, defeated.

"well, well. if it isn't the innocent little hufflepuff. no wonder i've been craving sweet since i entered the library."

"will you let go of me?"

"oh, sure thing." he softens his grip, giving you just a taste of freedom before yanking your head again, "what's the magic word? you know, that muggle one?"

"please, please!" you yelp, hands wrapping around his wrist in hopes of convincing him to let go.

he does, then steps back to give you space so you can get up. fixing your sleepwear, you fail to see his amused grin as he stares at you. when you finally look up at him, he has his usual prefect serious face on.

"now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"sorry, it won't happen again." you should tattoo that on yourself next time you're in muggle world, it comes like a good morning to you. "i'll see myself out."

"oh, no, no." the man stops you, grabbing your elbow. "you don't get away with a sorry. not anymore. remember what i said last time?"

"uh... something about different forms of punishment?" you remember.

"that's right. good girl." his voice seems to drop a few octaves, causing you to subconsciously squeeze your thighs together. "now, how many?"

"what?"

"how many?"

"how many what?"

"spanks, sweetheart."

"you're-" you choke on your spit, "you're going to spank me?"

"oh, would you rather lose points? again?" he tilts his head, fake worry painted on his features.

"well, no, but-"

"deducting points doesn't seem to work on you anyways. i'll have to try a different approach. usually works." he steps towards you, making you step back.

"usually? you uh... you spank other people?" you dare ask.

"why?" he continues his slow steps.

"just asking."

"jealous?"

"why would i be?"

"i don't know." he shrugs, then looks around checking for intruders. "a little bird told me you have a crush on me."

your back hits the shelves, and you gasp. he stops in front of you, still maintaining a small distance. you stutter, not knowing what to say. do you have a crush on him?

"i certainly don't."

"oh." he furrows his eyebrows, "you sure?"

"yes." your voice comes out raspy, and you clear your throat. "yes, absolutely."

"honeydukes?"

"yes?"

"are you trying to convince yourself, or me?"

"i don't have a crush on you, seonghwa." you try to sound as convincing as possible.

"good. then, this interaction won't have any side effects besides teaching you a lesson. now, how many?"

you want to say a small number, like two or three. but if it happens to feel good, you won't have the guts to ask for more. oh how foolish, how can spanking be good?

"tick-tock, hufflepuff. if you don't decide, i will for you. and trust me, you do not want that."

he isn't touching you, hell, he isn't even looking at you. yet he has power over you like nobody ever had before, making you stand still against the bookshelves and wait for his instructions.

"ten," you simply say.

"ten? not one, two?" seonghwa is surprised with your answer, figuring you'd choose a smaller number.

"i didn't think you'd accept one or two. or would you?"

"smart girl. no, i wouldn't. now, what was your favorite subject again? charms, herbology?"

"dark arts," you reply, catching him off guard once again. of course he didn't see it coming. you're sneaking out to go to a library, you're a hufflepuff for merlin's sake, and you stand here in front of him, looking up at him with those wide innocent eyes of yours. who would guess dark arts?

"well, then," he swirls his black wand around both of you, turning you invisible once again, "lead the way, honeydukes."

and you do, having him follow you all the way to the defence against the dark arts classroom. you'd be lying if you said nervous sweat hasn't washed you over three times by the time you reach it. when the door closes, it's like time stops. this is it.

"won't umbridge hear? what if she's still in her office?" you whisper.

"muffliato." he simply casts, sparks flying between the desks, up the staircase at the end of the classroom, and through the doors of umbridge's office. "go on."

you keep walking, all the way to her desk. seonghwa plunges on the comfy professor's chair, then motioned for you to step closer. you barely step close to him, and he pushes you over his lap, causing you to squeak unintentionally. you hold onto his thigh, the position not the most comfortable one.

"count." the slytherin prefect demands.

his big hand lands on your bottom, making you jolt. "one."

his other hand rests on the small of your back, keeping you still so you stop squirming. only three more spanks later, you're already shuffling uncomfortably.

"two, three, four," you say, voice slowly cracking.

"but i'm barely halfway there yet, my hufflepuff princess. don't break on me just yet." he coos, voice soft and comforting, a great contrast to his actions.

you sniff, hand hurriedly wiping a tear that threatened to escape. seonghwa doesn't halt, even if he saw that. instead, he spanks you harder and harder, sparing no inch of your skin of the burning sensation.

"five, six, seven." you shudder, bracing yourself for more. only three more.

"almost there, sweetheart. you're doing so good for me." his other hand caresses your hair, removing it from your face and letting it fall aside. seeing you all teared up and flushed, something new sparks inside of him. "so pretty."

he can't help himself, his hand abusing your sore bottom, exceeding the amount that you both agreed on. you keep counting, not asking him to stop. he lands a final one, deciding it is enough once you let out the first cry.

"t-twenty," you sob, hiding your face in his black slacks.

when his hand touches your bottom again, you expect it to be another hit. instead, his hand caresses it, helping to soothe the pain. it lasts mere seconds, before you feel him raise the top of your pajama, then pull on the bottom. he exposes your red bottom to the cool classroom air, and you can't help but whine at the loss of contact.

"you did so good, my love." seonghwa coos, fingers running through your hair as he waits for you to collect yourself.

once you do, you realize that the burning sensation isn't only on your butt cheeks. you also feel it between your legs, briefs soaked with arousal.

"did you learn the lesson?" his hand finds its spot under your chin, raising your head so he can look at you properly.

"yes." you say, failing to maintain eye-contact with him. maybe it's the guilt, or maybe simply the way he looks at you. either way, you opt to stare at his perfectly ironed and buttoned up prefect attire.

"want me to make it feel better?"

you shrug, not quite sure what you wanted anyway. his hand slips from under your chin to your neck, catching you off guard, his fingers squeezing the sides of it. he presses lightly into your skin, the other hand adjusting your bottom so that it is higher up and your core easily accessible. a moan escapes your lips, feeling his digits find your clit so easily.

"oh, you poor thing. you're absolutely soaked. is that why you're crying? not from the pain, but from lack of attention?"

when you don't reply, he only chuckles, pressing into your neck more.

"i'll take good care of you, honeydukes."

he moves your briefs aside, digits circling your clit softly, before slipping into your aching hole. you bite into the fabric of his pants, but he stops you, instead offering his finger to bite on. he still holds onto your neck with his thumb and the rest of the fingers, his index finger popped into your mouth to muffle any noise you have to offer him.

hearing your own hole squelch as his fingers pump in and out of you makes a new rush of arousal wash over your folds. his fingers are long, very long. he curves them, spreads them, then removes them from your hole, only to spread your slick all over your clit and abuse it.

you're a drooling mess on his lap, eyes turning back at the pure pleasure he is gracing you with. your hips hopelessly push back, looking for anything to fill you up. he notices, removing his hand from your core, before standing you up and pushing you to sit on the desk. with a single motion, he shreds your briefs to bits, stuffing them into his pocket and attaching his mouth to your aching core.

you fall back on the desk, head hanging from it and overlooking the empty classroom. your brain creates various images for you as seonghwa's hot tongue swipes across your folds, imagining the classroom full of students as seonghwa feasts on you in front of them. were you weird for that?

"not at all, princess."

"stop reading my mind, prefect." you tug on his hair, a form of punishment for intruding your thoughts.

"can't help it, not when you're dripping all over my face."

his fingers find their way into your clenching hole again, curling upwards and finding a spot nobody ever had before. a moan escapes you, echoing through the classroom, and your other hand pushes seonghwa's head further into your cunt.

he chuckles against you, his own hands holding your thighs so you don't suffocate him. you feel yourself inching closer, hips desperately grinding on his mouth and nose, eager to feel a proper orgasm. he pulls away once again, making you whine and groan.

"my, i've spoiled you." he raises an eyebrow, amused at the glares you're sending him. he stands up, working on his zipper. he doesn't take his pants off, deciding to keep his prefect uniform on. it only makes the situation hotter, your brain finally realizing just what you're doing.

you're messing with a prefect, in the middle of the night, in a classroom, right under a professor's nose.

"kiss me." you ask, voice small. red paints your cheeks; you wanted to sound more confident than that.

"you want to taste yourself on my tongue, princess?"

"yes, please."

"since you asked so nicely."

he helps you stand again, hands firm on your waist, and lips finally attached to yours. your arms wrap around his neck, hungrily bringing his body closer to yours. you indeed taste yourself on his tongue, seonghwa not wasting a second in pushing through your soft lips in search for your hot muscle. the sound of kissing echoes in the classroom, the setting hotter than your wildest dreams. seonghwa is a dreamy kisser, making you feel wanted, hot and appreciated at the same time. his lips never leave yours, not even when your fingers tangle in his hair and pull at it with ecstasy. he only moans softly into your mouth, giving you a wave of confidence.

your hand slides down his chest, to the button of his pants, and finally to the zipper. you reach into it, pulling his hard cock out, before giving it a few slow pumps. he sighs into your lips, pulling away for a few moments. his forehead rests against yours, his body falling in control of your one hand. your thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the slick and spreading it over him. his hips rock with your hand, whines and moans deliciously filling your ears. it feels powerful to have him tremble in your hands, desperate and yearning for your touch and attention. this must be what he feels on a daily basis. and it must feel fucking amazing.

"you're full of surprises, aren't you?" he teases, and you tease back by squeezing his cock. he gasps, but chuckles regardless. "you're just a little brat, waiting to be stuffed like a bad girl. i know it."

with a swift motion, seonghwa turns you around, your still clothed tits pressing against the hard wooden desk and head pushed on the side. he slides into you without warning or teasing, so easily and perfectly. he wastes no time in holding your hips still, smashing his own into you and burying his cock deep in your hole. your walls swallow each inch he offers you, having both of you moan and groan at the pleasure.

"fuck-" he curses, eyes planted on the place where the two of you connect. "fuck, honeydukes- you're going to be the death of me."

"do you- ah!" he snaps his hips into yours once again, each thrust more forceful than the other, "do you do this with others sneaking out at night?"

"i knew you were jealous. so you do have a little crush on me?" he chuckles breathlessly.

"maybe. and maybe." you groan, hands gripping the edges of the desk.

"no, baby. i don't. you're the only one whose cunt i'm going to fill up, again and again. until you've learned your lesson properly."

it is your turn to chuckle now. "if this is your form of punishment, i might start sneaking around while you're on duty more often."

"oh, my hufflepuff princess. if you want me, you can have me any time you want. all day, every day. all you have to do is ask."

the conversation stops, as do his hips, when the doors on top of the stairs open.

"who's there?"

you try looking back at seonghwa, eyes full of fear. his cock twitches in your hole, the riskiness of the situation arousing to him.

"hush, love." he whispers, hand pushing your head down against the cold wood again.

his hips start moving gently, slowly stretching your hole again. you're in shock, not believing that he'd actually continue as the professor walks down the stairs in her own sleeping attire. her eyes skim over the room, trying to find anything unusual. but the silencing spell seems to be working, just like the disillusionment one, making umbridge unaware of your presence. a very... lewd presence.

"merlin, i can't take it anymore. i'm sorry, love."

not giving you a chance to ask why he's apologizing, you soon learn as his hand pulls your hair back and his other one grips your bruised bottom. his hips snap into yours with speed and accuracy, hitting the right spots and bringing you closer to release.

"seonghwa-" you moan.

"yes, love?"

"i want-" you moan again, then beg, "i want to see you, touch you."

he pulls away, helping your limp body in a different position. the professor is ignored, even when she comes dangerously close to the desk. it sends a new wave of arousal to your core, just in time for seonghwa to slide into you again.

"look at that," he sighs, looking at your belly.

you follow his gaze, seeing the outline of his cock on it. your hands bring his head closer so you can kiss him, with equal hunger as before. he continues pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm.

"right, there better not be anyone. i'm not in the mood for any tricks!" umbridge threatens, causing both of you to chuckle into each others mouths.

"this is kind of hot," you admit.

"as much as it is, i want her to go away as soon as possible. i just can't cum when i see her face."

you laugh, glancing at the professor one more time. as if she heard, she listens, angrily stomping upstairs and slamming the door shut.

"uh, speaking of temperatures, i know this is crazy, but i am feeling a bit chilly." you admit, the winter air entering the classroom and hitting your naked skin. after all, you were only in your thin sleepwear, having heavy covers on your bed that kept you warm. seonghwa wastes no time in taking off his prefect cloak, helping you put it on and planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you look beautiful in green, my pretty hufflepuff."

blush paints your cheeks, his scent enveloping you and sending a fresh batch of butterflies to your stomach. you never noticed it before, but he smells of forest moss and after rain stone, with a hint of potions ingredients. it is intoxicating, entering your organism and threatening to never leave.

"oh, merlin," seonghwa throws his head back, lost in pure pleasure as your hole swallows him, the outline of his cock on your belly adding to it all and helping him get closer to his goal. "fuck- fuck-"

he's absolutely dashing, a thin layer of sweat shining on his face and making his dark locks stick to his forehead. his lips are plump from you biting and sucking on them, slightly parted and letting out little gasps and moans. he unbuttons the first few buttons of his uniform, not having a problem with the cold. you're a moaning mess, just like him, completely letting go of every thought you had until now, simply giving yourself to him and admiring him.

you feel full of him, and just when you thought you couldn't feel fuller, seonghwa hisses, spilling his load in you and creating more squelching sounds as he rides out his orgasm, pushing in and out of you sloppily.

it doesn't take long for you to reach your own, the knot in your stomach exploding as his tip slams mercilessly into your soft spot, making you grip his arms, shoulders, hair, anything you could reach. he works you through your high, not missing a single face or sound you make.

you're exhausted, struggling to catch your breath. the recovery lasts longer than usual, seonghwa having wrecked you inside out. his hands gently remove your hair from your face so he can take a good look at you.

"you're good, love. breathe." he coos, caressing your cheek and blowing into your face to cool you off.

"thank you," you blurt out.

"what for?" the slytherin prefect laughs at your innocence.

"i don't know. this, i guess. i've never enjoyed sex, always saw it as a chore. and i never felt desired, just objectified."

"well," the dark haired slytherin pecks your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips, "you don't have to worry about that anymore. i've never desired anyone the way i desire you, and i think i just proved it to you how much. you don't have to fear those things with me anymore."

"park seonghwa, are you subtly asking me to be your girlfriend?" you shyly ask, knowing that you might be wrong and embarrass yourself in front of him. to your relief, he pecks your lips once again.

"perhaps. only if you want to. if not, then i'm not asking."

"perhaps i want to."

"perhaps that makes me happy."

"you're crazy." you laugh, and he joins.

seonghwa does one more thing no other partner has ever done for you; he helps you get cleaned, then dressed, and walks you to the doors of your common room.

"if you do decide to sneak off again, please do let me know. wouldn't want other prefects to find you and steal your heart."

you nod, and with a longer kiss, finally part ways with him. he waits until you finish your usual rhythmic tapping on the barrels, until the doors open, and finally, until you disappear into your common room and back to the dormitory.

you notice the sun already rising, and hurry to jump back in bed.

"excuse me? is that a slytherin cloak on you?"

you freeze in your tracks, the cloak ready to slide off you and hide under your pillow. the girl on the bed to your left doesn't give up, now sitting up and staring at you wide eyed.

"and a prefect one too?!" the voice on the right joins, waking up the rest of the room and bringing attention to you.

fuck.

taglist: @hongthoven @itza-meee @onedumbho3 @chngbnwf @mxnsxngie @yunhowooyo @m3chigo @trivia-134340 @sanniesaur @shiningpaint-marbleheart @hyphenen @iweirdthingsblog @moonm1st @hwxbibi @jjoongstar @dawn-iscozy @callmeagardengnome @arson1893 @n1k1mura @ishz @hwa-stars @prettyjewel93 @hongjoongsprincess @fireseo @milkandoranges @kibs-and-bits @kitten4sannie @yuujismom @dianadiaries @teawithcherrypie @morethingsfandom

[someonellly]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 8

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Breeding - Bang Chan

Word Count: 8.4k

Summary: Your family’s yearly vacation is here and once again, you’re single. To avoid having your dating life be poked and prodded by your relatives, you decide to turn your best friend for a little help. Everyone already knows him! What’s the worst that could happen if he pretends to be your boyfriend for the week?

—————————————————————————

“It’s going to be a disaster,” you lament, leaning your head back over your couch. Your coffee mug gripped tightly in your hand.

A random movie is playing on your TV, but neither you nor your best friend are paying attention.

“It will not,” Chan chides and nudges your arm with his elbow.

He sips his own drink slowly, watching you throw your arm over your eyes.

“Yes it will! Every year my family goes on this vacation to the mountains, and every year I’m reminded that I’m the only single adult in the family.”

You sigh.

“You’re not the only single one, what about your cousin?”

“He started dating someone about a month after last year’s vacation. They’re still together, so she’s coming on the trip.” Your tone switches to something less dramatic. “She’s lovely, by the way, you’d like her. Very friendly.”

Chan laughs. “So, you’re single and alone there, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s your family. ”

“They make fun of me the whole time! And if I do anything my mom doesn’t like, she’ll go ‘this is why you don’t have a boyfriend, Y/N.’ Ugh!”

“Aren’t there only four ‘older’ cousins?”

“Yes, and I’m the only single one above the age of seventeen. I’m twenty four and I am going to die alone.”

Your arm drops from your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling.

The air in your apartment is warm and comfortable. Candles burn on the table beside you, filling the house with a pleasant warm cinnamon scent.

It was always one of Chan’s favorites.

“How long until the trip?” he asks.

“Next weekend.”

“Not enough time for a dating app, huh?”

You force a laugh. “No. Can you imagine? ‘Coffee was great! You wanna come on a week-long vacation with me and my giant, loud family?’ They would run for the hills.”

“Your family is great and you know it.”

“I know, they’re just… obnoxiously close, that’s all. I love them, don’t get me wrong.” You motion your arms up to the ceiling wildly in an exasperated movement. “But if I need to listen to my aunt nitpick my appearance in passive aggressive ways to ‘help’, I might kill myself.”

Chan takes a long sip of his drink. “They’re not that bad.”

You roll your eyes. “They love you so much, what would you know? Every time I bring you around them I always get tons of questions afterwards about you. I think my cousin is in love with you.”

“Which one?”

“Lily.”

“She’s twelve.”

“Twelve and in love with you.”

Both of you sit in silence for a moment. Chan’s attention slides back to the TV. He’s looking at it, but he’s not absorbing what’s really playing.

Same with you, you’re too busy wrapped up in your thoughts when an idea hits you all of a sudden.

“That’s it!” you yell, sitting up straight. Your voice startles Chan and he almost spills his drink all over your couch.

“What? What’s it?” he asks quickly, checking his pants to make sure nothing spilled.

“You can come with me!”

“You want me to go on your family’s yearly vacation in place of a boyfriend?”

“I want you to come on my family’s yearly vacation as my boyfriend.”

Chan’s head snaps over to you, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. You’re already looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Please, Chan!” you beg before he has a chance to say no. “Please, please, please!” you repeat over and over again.

Placing your coffee on the table, you crawl closer to him on the couch, begging over and over again.

“They already love you so much! It would be so easy ! Plus, it’s all expenses paid! It’s a free vacation to a lake house in the mountains with your best friend!”

“Felix isn’t going.” Chan teases.

You whine and grab his free hand. “No, me! Your best friend! Pretty please Chan! I’ll owe you big time!”

He stares at you for a long moment, thinking it through in his head. You’re staring at him with big, pleading, sparkly eyes. He’s never been able to say no to that look.

He sucks his teeth, head cocking to the side for a second. The hand in yours twitches and he holds it, like a faux-shake.

“Fine,” he says. “But, you owe me dinner.”

Squealing, you throw your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He wraps his beverage-free hand around you and hugs you back. “You’re seriously the best, thank you!”

“I know, I know. Now can we please finish the movie?”

——————————————

The trunk to your car slams shut, Chan dusts his hands off and then rests them on his hips.

“You look like a dad,” you tell him while coming up to the car with your backpack slung over your shoulder.

“A dad who packed the trunk of your car perfectly.” He eyes the backpack on your shoulder. “That goes in the backseat. I’m not opening the trunk again.”

Giggling, you open the backdoor and toss it in.

“Can you drive?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. “You know how much I hate driving.”

Chan sighs and holds his hand out for the keys.

“You’re the best!” you cheer and toss them to him.

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Chan rolls his eyes and ducks into the driver’s side of the car. “Do you have the address?”

You duck inside the car and start typing on your phone. “I should have it in my texts, one sec.”

Scrolling through your phone, you try to find the text that your aunt sent you with the address. Your family has rented the same AirBnb every year since you were fourteen and yet you could never remember the address of the place.

As you’re searching for it, a phone call from your mom comes in.

“Oh, hold on.” You say to Chan and hit the answer button.

“Hey, ma!” you greet into the phone.

“Hey, sweetie! Are you on your way yet?”

“We just got into the car, actually. We’re about to leave.”

“I thought you would’ve left an hour ago.”

“Chan got held up at work, actually. Not his fault.”

At the mention of his name, Chan perks up and looks over at you, listening to the phone call intently.

“Ah, gotcha. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you two finally started dating.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still kinda new,” you lie through your teeth. You look up and make eye contact with Chan. “We only became official about…”

His eyes widen and he looks around panicked. Quickly, he holds up three fingers.

“About three week-”

He moves about wildly.

“Months! Three months ago! Sorry, I’m a little distracted putting all the bags in the car.”

Chan reacts to your lie comically, his chin jutting forward, head cocking to the side. You wave him off silently. Your mother doesn’t seem to clock your panic about the situation.

“I always saw how the two of you looked at each other, it was only a matter of time, really.”

A blush crawls up your neck and turns your ears and cheeks red. Chan looks down at his lap and coughs nervously, a blush of his own making its way onto his skin.

“Anyway, we better get going, mom! You know how talking on the phone while driving is illegal and all.”

“Make Chan drive! He’s the boyfriend.”

“You’re so right… And he should do so without putting up a fuss.”

Chan motions down to himself, as if to say ‘I’m already the one in the driver’s seat’. You wave him off again, trying to focus on your mother’s voice.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see you soon, but I expect some questions to be answered when I see you, Y/N!” Her voice is teasing, but it makes your blood run cold.

“Of course, mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye, love you!”

You don’t give her a chance to answer you before you hang up.

The silence in the car is so loud, the air is so still.

“So,” you say slowly. “We need to come up with a backstory, huh?”

“It seems so.”

Another bout of silence.

Neither of you are looking at each other, you’re both facing forward, staring out the windshield.

“I’ll uh… find the address.”

“Yeah.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and scroll through your phone. Chan waits a second before starting the car.

——————————————

Chan turned one of the final corners of the trip onto the street.

“Our first date?” he asks.

“Coffee at the cafe by my apartment.”

“Second date?”

“Movies, we saw Barbie. We went out to eat afterwards. A diner.”

“When did we become official?”

“Three months ago. May 6th. You asked me after our third date.”

“And?”

“You kissed me at my door.”

“Good.”

You both pause for a moment.

“How come I can’t be the one that kissed you?” you tease him.

Chan laughs out loud and turns the car into the driveway. “As if you would ever make the first move.”

You look at him incredulously. “I so would! You’re the one who gets too nervous to do anything. I say I kissed you, not the other way around.”

“No way, I kissed you.”

Chan puts the car into park.

“Absolutely not. I kissed you first.” you reply.

“Keep dreaming. I walked you to your door, we stood there and talked for a minute. You went to walk inside, but I stopped you and kissed you.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt.

“No, after we talked, there was an awkward silence and I could see how nervous you were and how you kept looking at my lips. So, I took the first step and kissed you.”

Grabbing the door handle, you wrench it open before Chan could issue a rebuttal again.

He calls your name from inside the car and lets out a loud groan afterwards.

“You can’t have all the firsts, now can you?” you call back, walking around to the trunk.

The front door to the house rips open and two of your little cousins come tearing out of the house with happy smiles.

“Y/N! Y/N!” they both call out, sprinting up to you.

Leaning down, you scoop both of them up into a hug with both arms, giving them an equally excited hello. Both of them hug you tightly.

They’re five and nine years old, girl and boy– the youngest of the cousins.

“Look who else I brought with me,” you giggle and look over at Chan, who was watching you from the side of the car. The door still opened, his arm leaning on the top.

Both of their tiny gazes turn towards him and just like that, you’re forgotten about.

“Chan!” They both cheer and run at him full tilt.

He wraps both of them up in his strong arms and picks them off the ground.

“Hello, you two!” he coos and gives them both kisses on their heads.

Something twinges within your heart seeing him interact with the two of them that way, it goes through you like an arrow. His brown eyes are so warm and sparkly holding your two little cousins close to him.

A genuine, bright smile pulled across his beautiful face.

Chan steps away from the car and puts them on the ground, they both complain. “Come on, I need to help Y/N with the bags. I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I made her carry them all by herself.”

Your heart thuds again. Boyfriend.

The two kids groan and give in, running back into the house, telling everyone of your arrival.

Chan watches them for a moment before turning to look at you with a sheepish smile. You smile back and knock twice on the hood of your car.

“Come on then, boyfriend. These bags won't carry themselves.”

He laughs and grabs the bags from the trunk, arguing with you when you try to lift some of the heavier bags. Well, you weren’t going to argue about carrying something if you didn’t need to.

The cold air conditioned house was a familiar sight when you walked through the front door. One of your aunts was near the entrance when you first came in.

“Y/N, Chan, you’re here! We have you both in the room down here, I hope that’s okay.” she says, pointing to the room down the hall. It’s one of only three bedrooms on the first floor.

“Yeah! That’s totally fine, thank you.”

You smile and walk to the room, dropping your bags down on the bed.

The singular bed in the room.

Chan follows you inside the room with your bags, plopping them down on the floor by the door. You turn to look at him, he’s staring at the bed, most likely thinking the same thing that you are.

He closes the door behind you both.

“I didn’t think about this part.” you say quietly just in case someone was outside the door.

He shrugs. “Just don’t hog the blankets,” he jokes. Chan brushes it off so easily.

What you don’t know is his heart is racing just as much as yours is. His mouth has gone completely dry and he had to gulp down some nerves before jesting with you.

It’s just a bed, right? Both of you can share a bed, no problem. Not at all.

The two of you have fallen asleep on the couch together before. But, it’s not quite the same as sharing a bedroom for the next week.

“I didn’t think you would need any blankets since you’re a human space heater.” You open your one bag and pull out a few smaller things.

“You’re just jealous because you’re cold all the time.” Chan stands on the other side of the bed, plugging his phone charger into the wall.

“I’m not cold all the time.”

“You’re in a sweatshirt and it’s eighty five degrees outside.”

“We had the air conditioning on in the car.”

There’s a few knocks on the bedroom door. “Dinner!”

——————————————

Contrary to what you both originally thought, your family did not grill the two of you interrogation style about your relationship. Instead, you were met with a lot of “It was only a matter of time”.

Each time one of your family members said something along those lines, both you and Chan would grow extremely shy, faces flushing and hearts racing.

Dinner was held in the back room attached to the large kitchen, a long dining table sat in the room, benches full of your family members lined it.

There were so many of you: eight cousins, three aunts, two uncles, two parents, one sister, one brother in law, one grandmother.

This was not the first time Chan had been around your extremely large family, not at all. He’s around you all the time, especially when he can’t go home to Australia for holidays. You always invite him to your family celebrations, and each time he’s more than thrilled to be there.

Everyone was so happy that he was there; part of you thinks they’re happier to see him than you.

Dinner came and went, it was filled with laughter and stories, like it usually is. Your dad and his brothers all teased one another, bringing up stories of being young in the 70’s and 80’s.

“Let’s do a movie night!” One of your younger cousins turns to her older brother. “You’ve been promising me that we would watch Star Wars.”

“You want to watch Star Wars tonight?” he replies.

“Yes, please! Cousins movie night!" She cheers and grabs her plate. “We can set the couches up like last year!”

Chan leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Movie night?”

“There’s a den upstairs with a couple couches, we push them together to make a giant bed and all watch movies at night. Very common L/N Family Activity on vacation.” you answer, leaning closer to him. “The adults usually go to bed and all the cousins watch movies.”

“Sounds exciting.”

Both of you chuckle and smile at one another. His dimples showing. You two seem to be in your own little bubble.

Chan’s leaning so close his body heat is radiating through your clothes. The fabric of his shirt is brushing against your bare arm.

“You’ll find that there’s a certain schedule to each day, breakfast, play down at the lake, lunch, back to the lake, get ready for dinner, eat dinner, movie time.”

“I think I can get used to that.”

“You better.”

A throat clears by you. Your aunt is looking at the two of you with a playful smile. “Are you both going to help clean up or what?”

——————————————

“Dibs on sitting next to Y/N!” One of your little cousins calls out after you all finished pushing the couches together.

“No, I want to sit next to her!” Another yells out.

The youngest runs up and throws his arms around your hips, hugging you close to him. Both arms don’t make it around you all the way.

“No, me!”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. He holds you tighter and it knocks you off balance slightly.

“Come on, hon, you got to sit next to me at dinner, let someone else have a turn.” you coo down to him.

“No!” he pouts and hugs you tighter. You grimace and try to pry his arms off you.

Chan comes out of nowhere and picks your cousin off the ground in one fell swoop. “How about me, huh?” he teases and tickles your cousin with his one free hand.

Your cousin starts giggling like crazy.

“Don’t I get to sit next to my girlfriend?” he jokes and tickles him even more.

The biggest smile stretches over your face, heart warming once more.

Chan drops your cousin onto the couches, he bounces a bit, still laughing.

The tickle torture continues now that both of Chan’s hands are free. Giggles turn into cackles.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t fight the smile on your face and the feeling that stirs in your stomach. Are you ovulating? You have to be. There’s no other explanation for the flutter within your chest.

He just looks so natural like that. The teasing looked adorable.

It wasn’t until one of your older cousins came into the room before your gaze was taken away from Chan.

“Lovesick, eh?” he says in your ear.

“Oh, shut up.” You hit him in the arm.

“I know that look anywhere, Y/N. You can’t fool me.” He laughs and then walks to take his spot on the big couch huddle with his girlfriend.

Chan picks your little cousin up by the ankle and starts dragging him around. Both of their laughter was music to your ears.

“Okay, okay! Move time!” You call out to the two of them. Chan looks over at you immediately with the goofiest grin on his face.

Your little cousin groans.

“Give me my boyfriend back,” you tease and climb onto the couch.

After several minutes of figuring out seating and finding the movie on the TV, everyone was finally settled.

Chan sat directly next to you, his arm on the back of the couch behind you. Both of your legs stretched out in front of you and a shared blanket draped over you both.

The opening title sequence of Star Wars starts playing and silence falls over your cousins for the first time since you got there.

Absent-mindedly, Chan’s fingers lightly brush over the skin of your exposed shoulder from behind you. They trace small shapes lightly.

You can’t even focus on the movie in front of you, Chan’s touch is too distracting.

Your sister and her fiance sat on the other side of you. She leaned over and whispered in your ear about twenty minutes into the movie.

“You can cuddle with your boyfriend, you know.”

A flush crawls up your neck. “Yeah, of course I know that. I just didn’t want to–”

Chan must’ve heard her, his hand closes over your shoulder and brings you closer to him. Your body turns into his, head tucked underneath his chin. His body warmth seeps into you as soon as you press into him.

The cherry on top is when he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair before resting his chin on top of your head. A shockwave of goosebumps ripples through your body.

Thinking you were chilly, Chan wraps his other arm around you and holds you even closer.

Well, if he’s playing the part.

You intertwine your legs with his underneath the blanket. His heart jumps in his chest and he has to fight the urge to press another kiss into your hair.

Chan knew he was pushing his luck with the first one, but it just felt so natural, he couldn’t help himself. Every single time the two of you touch, he instinctually takes it further into a romantic zone.

Previously, he would restrain himself from advancing these moments with you, but now? He doesn’t need to hold himself back. He can let his body react naturally.

The movie continues on, whenever a younger cousin would ask any questions about the movie, one of the older kids would answer.

Whenever Chan was the one to answer, his voice would rumble deep within his chest. The later it got, the raspier it sounded.

Throughout the movie, you both just got more and more tangled up underneath the blanket. You slid an arm around to rest your hand on Chan’s chest; fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt.

Chan melted into your touch so easily.

In all the years you’ve been close friends, you’ve never been this level of a human pretzel while hanging out. He’s relishing every moment of it. Your shared body heat mingling is intoxicating to him.

He’s such a tactile person, physical touch is definitely his love language.

Chan can’t remember a time he was ever this cozy while watching a movie.

One of his hands moves from your shoulder and into your hair, running his fingers through the strands gently.

Every muscle in your body relaxes when he starts scratching at your scalp lightly. His soft exhales puff out on your head. Normally, this would bother you, but instead you find it soothing.

Both of you were fighting against your eyelids towards the end of the movie. The little kids fell asleep about ten minutes before the credits rolled.

Chan squeezes you tighter for a moment before whispering into your hair, “Time for bed.”

Your heart squeezes. “I gotta help get the little ones to bed.”

“I got it,” he answers. “Go wash up and get to bed. I’ll be downstairs in a few.”

Words can’t even describe how much your heart melts at his words.

Pull it together, Y/N. He’s your fake boyfriend for the week, remember? Not your real one.

It’s Chan – Bang Chan. The same guy who held your hair each time you drank yourself sick in college. The guy who camps out at your dining room table to work because he claims the Wi-Fi is better at your apartment.

Nevertheless, you peel yourself off of him, untangling your limbs and sitting up.

“You’re the best,” you say to him with a sleepy smile.

“I know.”

——————————————

Sunlight streams in through the bedroom window and the air conditioning unit continuously hums in the room.

A strong arm squeezing tighter around your body is what drags you out of dreamland.

A searingly hot body is pressed flush against the back of yours; legs tangled up, back to chest, soft exhales blowing into your hair lightly.

The haze of sleep still has your mind in its grip. All you know in that moment is that it’s so cozy, so warm, so nice that you can’t help but press your body backwards into that serene clasp.

The arm tightens again and brings you even closer.

A nose nuzzles further into the back of your head.

Chan, it’s Chan behind you.

You should care. You should be prying his arm off your waist and scooting over away from him.

But you don’t want to. It’s too nice.

It’s so peaceful, you’re about to drift back to sleep when the sound of two separate footsteps run towards your bedroom door.

They’re so loud, it rips you from sleep and you tense up, preparing for impact.

Your bedroom door is practically flung open.

Chan jolts against your body at the noise, his eyes snap open, arm tightening around you even more in a protective manner.

He has about two seconds to get his bearings before both cousins leap onto the bed, yelling at you both to wake up.

Chan releases you and turns over onto his back with a deep groan.

You groan and squint your eyes closed, bringing the covers up over your head.

“Noooo…” you moan out.

Chan laughs and grabs one little cousin closely, hugging her close to his chest. “Are you in here to sleep in bed with us? I sure hope so since it’s still soooo early.”

She giggles and tries to fight against his strong arms. “No!” she cackles. “You have to eat breakfast so we can go swimming down at the lake!”

Your other, more calm, cousin squirms underneath the covers and cuddles up to you. Slinging an arm around him, you keep your eyes closed and try to let your mind drift off again.

This is not the first time he’s done this, and it most likely will not be the last. It breaks your heart thinking about the year he feels like he’s too old to do this.

Chan is practically wrestling with your cousin next to you. She squeals when he turns on his side with her encased in his arms.

“Chaaan!” she giggles.

After a few moments, he lets her go and she clambers off the bed.

“Come on, Chan! Come sit next to me at breakfast!” She pulls on his hand closest to the edge of the bed.

He laughs and turns his head to look at you. You’re fast asleep again with your younger cousin asleep in your arms.

Chan’s heart slams against his ribcage and his stomach does a cartwheel.

Your sleeping face is so peaceful, and the way your little cousin has the same hair color as you had the cogs in his mind turning.

What if that was your kid in your arms, not just a cousin?

What if it was his?

His eyes flicker all over your face.

Something stirs in his mind, shooting down his spine. If it wasn’t for your other little cousin yanking on his arm over and over again, probably would’ve watched you for a few more moments, allowing his mind to roam into dangerous territory.

——————————————

“You’re staring.” Your aunt sits next to Chan with a plate full of food.

He’s camped out on the back porch of the cabin. It overlooks the wooden stairs that lead down to the dock hanging over the lake.

You’re lounging out on a floaty, pina colada in your hand– courtesy of him. He had walked it down to you only a few moments ago.

When it was announced that it was lunch time, you told Chan you wanted to work on your tan without worrying about your cousins splashing you every five seconds.

Maybe making you a frozen drink was just an excuse to see your face light up when he brought it to you. Maybe it was an excuse to watch the water droplets slide over your body up close.

Chan clears his throat and tears his eyes off your lazing form. Clearly, he’d been caught staring at your bikini clad form.

She nudges his arm playfully. “Don’t be embarrassed, it would be weirder if you didn’t stare, you know.”

Your family can be so crass sometimes.

Chan laughs and takes a bite of the sandwich on his plate. “It’s just nice to see her relaxing for once.”

“Has she been working herself into the ground again?”

“She never stops.”

Your aunt nods and looks back down at you before taking a bite of her own food. “Also helps that she looks good in that bathing suit.” She pauses. “Damn, your kids will be good looking.”

Chan chokes on his bite of food, his body jerks forward and he slams his fist into his chest to try and get it down.

Your aunt pats him on the back a few times, laughing at his expense.

“What?” She questions with an evil chuckle. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

“We’ve only been together for three months,” he wheezes out, still hitting his chest. The clump of food is sitting in his throat.

“And?”

“It’s too early to think about stuff like that,” he lies through his teeth.

You’re not even his. You’re not. This week will end and you’ll have to go back to just being best friends.

He’ll have to pretend that he wasn’t fake sleeping for the last hour before you woke up just to have his arms around you for a little while longer.

“Please.” Your aunt rolls her eyes and goes back to her food when another family member joins the table.

Chan takes a long swig of water before letting his eyes flicker to you once more. Your free hand hangs down in the water, head tilted back to dip into the cool lake, exposing your long, beautiful neck.

In his swim trunks, his cock twitches and he takes an even bigger drink of water.

——————————————

The torture continues endlessly for the two of you.

It’s the fourth night when it’s just you and Chan left awake.

Rain is pouring against the windows outside, the fireplace is lit, TV playing something in the background.

“I’m never going to get to bed.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t have had coffee with dessert,” you tease Chan, nudging his arm.

“Your uncle offered me a cup and I panicked.”

“You don’t even like coffee.”

“I know!” He whined.

You laugh at his expense. “Come on,” you tug on his arm. “You promised you would play pool with me.”

“When did I say that?”

“Literally this morning!”

“Fine, fine.”

He allows you to pull him off the couch with a dorky smile on his face. He loves giving you a hard time for no reason at all.

The pool table sat in the front room, just a few steps away from your bedroom.

Every time the two of you had gone to play pool, other family members would get in the way and pull one of you two in another direction.

Tonight was really the first night you both had to yourselves.

“You break,” you tell him once everything is set up. He nods and lines up his shot. After a second, he hits the cue ball perfectly into the cluster and all the balls scatter along the table, but nothing sinks into the pocket.

“Pity,” you tease him.

“Pity,” he repeats, mocking your tone.

Laughing, you bend over and line up your own shot. From across the table, Chan watches your form bend over, his lip pulling between his teeth mindlessly.

You hit the ball and sink one in.

With a cheer on the quieter side, you look at him with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully as you line up another shot.

The game continues just like this for a bit. Both of you going back and forth, missing most shots, but also nailing some good ones.

You’re tied at the end, racing to try and sink the 8-ball before the other person.

Leaning over the table right in front of him, you try and set up your aim.

“Wait,” Chan says quietly before you can pull the pool stick back to take your shot.

He leans down over you, pressing his back into yours, arms coming around you. He guides your aim to hit the cue ball differently.

The entire time, your heart rate is increasing exponentially.

“Just a bit more to the left,” he whispers in your ear. Chills rip down your body and you gulp. His voice sounds so low and sensual.

His hand over yours adjusts with tiny, miniscule movements. He keeps changing the aim a bit to the left, then a bit to the right, like he’s prolonging the contact.

Behind you, his hips are pressed into yours. It’s taking every ounce of willpower and control for him not to get hard in his sweats.

Especially, since in this position, he potentially could–

“Pull back,” he rasps. You follow his instructions immediately. He helps guide the pool stick back, hesitating for a moment. His chest inflates with a deep breath.

He breathes in the smell of your shampoo.

“Shoot,” he exhales.

With his guidance, you both shoot the ball, standing up quickly to watch it bounce off the 8-ball and then sinking into the corner pocket.

You cheer and jump up, turning around to face him directly.

“Take that!”

When you turned to face him, he hadn’t backed away yet. You’re practically nose to nose with Chan. A gasp catches in your throat from his proximity.

And yet, he still doesn’t back away. He continues to stare at you, his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes again.

“Y/N,” he breathes out.

You swallow nervously and hold his eye contact.

Chan’s jaw clenches once, his hands ball into fists at his sides. Every single ounce of constraint is being tested within his body right now.

Cracks are going up the dam of his self control.

You’re not moving away; why aren’t you moving away from him?

He watches your eyes flicker down to his lips once and that’s all it takes for his mind to snap.

Chan lunges forward, grabbing your face with both of his hands and smashing your lips together. You let out a surprised noise against his mouth, your pool stick clattering to the ground.

Every bit of pent up aggression from the last few days is poured into the first kiss.

His hands aren’t on your face for long. He can’t keep still, sliding them all over your body; into your hair, down your sides, grabbing your hips, he’s everywhere.

“Fuck,” he growls against your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit.”

Even though he’s apologizing, he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop slotting his lips over yours, devouring your very being.

Chan’s eyebrows are pinched together painfully. He’s pinning your body against the pool table with his hips.

You grab at his shirt and pull him closer.

“Shut up,” you say in between heated kisses.

“But I–”

“Shut up.” Your tongue runs over his bottom lip and his mind whites out. Every rebuttal fell from his mind, through the floor and into the Earth.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face even closer to yours as he licks into your mouth. With each turn of your heads, your noses brush against one another.

Chan runs his hands down your body and grabs underneath your thighs, picking you up and placing you on the pool table.

Your legs part and he stands in between them, never leaving your lips once.

As he runs his hands up your legs, he squeezes your bare thighs every few inches. It makes your core clench and body tingle.

Your fingers run up through his hair, grabbing tightly and pulling. Chan moans into your mouth and moves his hands to grab at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

“Chan,” you whisper on his lips. He responds with a grunt. “Need you.”

God.

His hands fly to your legs again, grabbing you by the knees, he yanks your hips forward. Your clothed core comes into direct contact with his erection.

“I can give you exactly what you need, baby.” he nips your lip with his teeth. “I can take good care of you, yeah?”

Trailing his fingers up, he toys with the waistband of your shorts. At the same time, he moves his kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back to give him more access.

“Wanna take these off, babygirl?” he moans when you roll your hips into his.

“Yes, please.” you hiss in response.

Lifting your hips, he grabs the fabric and slides it down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with the forgotten pool stick.

Kisses trail lower and lower down your neck as he lowers to the ground.

Chan pulls away to kneel onto the ground.

His eyes are heated and strong when they meet yours. A dark scarlet color covers his cheeks and down his neck, disappearing into his sleeveless shirt.

Both of his hands grab at your thighs when he looks down at your glistening cunt. You’re absolutely soaking wet by now.

Since the moment he helped you line up your shot, you felt your panties dampening.

Wasting no time, Chan leans forward and runs his tongue from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the top, swirling around your clit and sucking gently.

Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, the other rests on the table behind you to keep your balance.

He repeats the action again, this time with more fervor and you squint your eyes shut, head tossing back from the pleasure that rips down your spine like a zipper.

Chan’s hands tighten around your thighs, eyes staring up at you and studying each reaction closely.

You taste so fucking good. He can’t get enough of you. His tongue greedily scoops up your juices, licking around your clit to feel you grind into his face.

His cock throbs with each moan, each whine that makes it through your fingers held tightly over your mouth.

After one long suck on your clit, Chan dips his tongue inside you, licking at your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, the hand over your mouth flies down to grip at his hair.

He can’t help but smirk into your folds.

Every single moan is music to his ears.

Slowly, he inches his fingers over and when he moves his tongue up to your clit, he slides a finger into you, immediately curling it up to hit that spongy spot inside you.

“Jesus fuck–!” you cry out as quiet as you can manage.

It doesn’t slip your mind that you’re quite literally in a house full of relatives who could wake up and come into the front room at any moment and see the two of you.

But the fear just adds an extra layer of arousal to you.

“Does that feel good, babygirl?” Chan mutters into your cunt. “Does it feel good to have my fingers inside you?”

He thrusts his finger in and out slowly, those brown eyes studying you like a predator studies prey.

You bite your lip, eyes closed, and nod your head.

Chan adds a second finger and your head tosses back again. He can feel you clench down hard on his fingers when he licks your clit in long, even strokes.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your body.

“Chan,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby?” he teases, licking up slowly, the pace of his fingers is equally as slow. But, regardless of the pace, he’s still coaxing you towards the edge of an orgasm. It’s building slowly, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.

“Shit,” you buck your hips into his face when he does one particularly hard thrust.

“Use your words, little girl.” He bites your thigh and then goes back to your folds. You clench around him hard at the name.

How are you supposed to use your words when your voice keeps getting caught in your throat? When every time you think you can open your mouth, a sultry moan tumbles out.

“N-Need you,” you manage to strain out.

A devilish smile pulls at his lips. He begins to thrust faster with his fingers, licking your clit quicker.

“Need me?” He asks in between licks. “You need me?”

Veins are popping in your neck from straining to keep your voice down.

“Yes, fuck!” You hiss out. “ I need you.”

In between his legs, Chan can feel his cock weeping with precum. His mind is so clouded with lust he can barely think straight.

Desperately, he wishes that you didn’t have to keep your voice down. He wants to make you scream.

Faster and faster he thrusts and licks at your soaking cunt, greedily tasting your juices.

Your thighs twitch on either side of his head the closer you get to your orgasm.

“Chan,” you grab his attention by yanking on his hair. He grunts and looks up at you through his lashes, lips still devouring you. “Inside, inside. I need your cock inside me.”

Your words go straight to his dick, he licks at your cunt a few more times before standing to his feet quickly to lock your lips together, fingers still buried inside you.

When you taste your own slick on his tongue, your eyes roll back in your head and you clench around him. Chan smirks into the kiss, curling his fingers up.

He’s relentless. Tongue sliding over yours, moans being eaten up by a greedy mouth while his fingers fuck into you.

With more strength than you thought you had, you pry Chan’s lips off yours by pulling his hair back.

“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll pin you down and ride you until your cock can’t cum anymore.”

An exhale is punched from his chest. His mind whites out. Chan’s mouth drops open and his fingers stutter within you.

Did you really just say that? That sounds like a fucking dream.

“Babygirl,” he growls darkly. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

Your eyes darken and you pull his hair again. “Fuck me until I can’t walk, Chris.”

Chan rips his fingers out of your cunt, grabs both of your hips and roughly pulls you off the pool table.

He fists a hand in the back of your hair and spins you around, shoving your head down, bending you over completely.

You’re lucky you had half a mind to put your arms out to rest your weight on your elbows.

Using his one foot, he knocks the inside of yours outwards to spread your legs even more.

“Fucking look at that,” he marvels, running his free hand up your ass and kneading a handful. After a second he reels back and brings his hand down with a painful smack.

Your one hand flies to your mouth to cover the squeak that you make.

“Bent over, soaking wet cunt just fucking waiting to take my cock.” His hand tightens in your hair. The other hand rips his sweatpants down to take his cock out. “What a good girl you are.”

Chan can’t remember a time he’s ever been this hard.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you look back at Chan. His eyes are blown out, lip pulled in a sneer as he fists his cock, staring directly at your fluttering walls clench around nothing.

“You wanna fill me up, Channie?”

His eyes snap up to yours with a predator-like stare. His hand stops pumping his own cock, hell, he even stops breathing.

Chan’s jaw clenches, every ounce of self control is being drained. How much more of this can he fucking take before he passes out?

“What?” His voice is so strained and hoarse.

Your eyes narrow and you wiggle your hips tauntingly. “Come on, Chan.”

Chan’s eyes darken. He fists your hair and shoves your face down on the table and slams his cock inside you.

Your mouth stretches open in a silent scream, but you don’t let the noise make it out of your body.

Chan’s eyes roll to the back. You feel so fucking good.

“Holy shit.” He moans out. “Jesus fuck you’re so fighting tight.”

He wastes no time, pulling his cock out to slam back inside you. Your back arches and hips press into his to meet his thrust.

Each sharp wave of pleasure shoots down your legs and into your toes.

Small gasps and whines make their way through your lips.

Chan leans down, yanking your hair back to pick your head up slightly. His face comes down next to yours.

“You like this, yeah?” He whispers harshly. Thrust after thrust slams against your cervix. “You like when it’s rough?”

Closing your eyes tightly, you keep your mouth shut, trying to nod with his hand so tightly wound in the crown of your hair.

“Better be quiet, then. Don’t want someone coming out and seeing you look like a cum hungry, whore.”

Over and over again he fucks into you.

After one harsh thrust, your mouth drops open and before you can moan loudly, Chan’s free hand covers your mouth tightly.

“Feels that good to have my cock inside you, huh? Can’t control that pretty mouth, you’re so fucked out.”

You whine and nod again. Nails digging into the felt of the pool table underneath you.

Hot, white pleasure is coursing through your veins. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life.

Chan leans down more and bites at the side of your neck, lapping at the skin and leaving small marks that will fade by the morning.

“You’re fucking lucky you have to be in a bathing suit in front of your family tomorrow. Otherwise I would leave my fucking mark all over you.” He bites, but doesn’t suck. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

Another whine is stopped by his hand.

“I have a better idea, babygirl.” He bites your earlobe, pace slowing down within you. Instead, he thrusts deeper, you can practically feel him within your gut. “I’m going to do exactly what you said, yeah? Fill you up? Make that pussy sloppy with my fucking load.”

Your hips jerk back into his to try and encourage him to pick up the pace. Chan only tightens his hold in your hair.

“You’re going to take whatever I give you, every last fucking drop. Even after I pull out, I’ll stuff you with my fucking fingers so nothing gets wasted.”

Arching your back, you press into him more.

“You want that, huh?” He growls, biting your ear. His pace picks up gradually, each thrust rougher and faster than the last. “You want my seed inside you?”

You nod pathetically.

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

His thrusts start growing erratic.

You never expected him to be this talkative during sex. But he hasn’t shut up once.

Another nod accompanied with a whine comes from you. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure.

“Gunna carry my kids, got the fucking perfect hips for it, yeah? You’ll look so fucking hot all pregnant with our kids. Fuck.”

He’s so lost and fucked out, he can’t stop his mouth from running, spewing all his fantasies.

Moving his hand from your mouth, he trails it down to grab at your throat.

“Chan!” You moan out, licking your dry lips.

“Can feel you clenching, babygirl. You gonna cum for me? Gunna cream on my cock? Suck up my cum and hold onto it with this tight fucking pussy?”

“Yes yes yes yes.” You pant over and over again. “Kiss me, kiss me, please”

When you turn your head, your lips smash together.

The coil in your gut is seconds from snapping.

You bite Chan’s lip and pull back.

“Fuck me full, daddy.”

Every muscle in his body tensed and his thrusts turn into something animalistic. The hand in your hair is so tight your scalp is screaming.

“Say it again.”

“Fu-huck,” is all you’re able to manage.

“Say it again.” He barks in your ear. You’re not going to be able sit down tomorrow.

“Daddy.”

A bite to your neck.

“Again.”

“Daddy! Fuck me, daddy!”

“Holy shit.” He whines in your ear. Hearing you say that makes him feel fucking insane. His body is acting on its own.

With a few more thrusts both of you are thrown over the edge at the same time. Your cunt clenching around him so tight, Chan can barely breathe.

His cock spurts and sprays within you, painting your walls white.

Every single sensation feels so good you think you leave for body for a few minutes. Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

His entire body is wrapped around yours. Grunts in your ear keep you grounded.

You feel so full.

Chan came inside you so much that it’s leaking out and dripping down the inside of your legs.

He pants heavily into your ear.

Releasing your neck, he lovingly runs his hand down your side, caressing your hip, massaging circles into the bone.

His hand slides around and cups your lower stomach tenderly.

Slowly, he unwinds his hand from your hair, kissing at the roots he’s been relentlessly pulling on. He scratches and rubs at your scalp to ease the ache.

But still, he hasn’t pulled out.

Chan kisses the top of your head and down to your face, kissing the cheek he’s able to reach.

You can’t catch your breath.

“Y/N,” he whispers into your hair.

You hum back to him, eyes still closed in bliss.

“I love you.”

Your heart jumps in your chest, Chan feels you clench around him.

“I love you too.” It falls from your lips so easily, like it’s been sitting there for so long, just waiting to be heard.

Both of your heads turn to kiss one another.

It’s so ungodly sweet for the events that just took place minutes ago.

His lips are so soft and plush, especially from being swollen from your steamy kisses.

Inside you, you can feel his cock twitch. Is he…?

Breathlessly, you pull away from his sweet kiss.

“Are you still hard?” you pant.

Sheepishly, he smiles and ruts into you. A moan catches in your throat.

“Babygirl, I’ve been waiting for so long to fuck you. It’s going to take a few times before I’m ready to call it a night.”

[someonellly]

First | Mingi x F Reader

Cross posted on ao3

Summary: You just wanted to lose your virginity — no drama, no strings attached. What you didn’t expect was for your friend Mingi to make it that good. One wild night, a lot of firsts, and maybe… just maybe, a reason to do it all over again.

WC: 10.5k

⚠️ warnings: smut, first times, virgin!reader, oral sex (f/m), vaginal sex, dry humping, dirty talk, praise kink, voice kink (kinda), big dick Mingi (canon, right?)

An: sorry about the wc, I just really like Mingi 🫠

Ⴡ Masterlist

You got dumped again. Yeah, seriously. At this point, it was getting old. But no matter how frustrating it was, you knew exactly what the problem was, and it wasn’t something you could just fix overnight.

You were… inexperienced.

Going to college after a lifetime of being smothered by overprotective parents meant they had successfully sent you off as a virgin. And for a while, that was fine. It wasn’t a big deal—until people started acting like you were some kind of loser just because you hadn’t fucked anyone yet.

And the guys? Every single one you tried dating was the same. Either they wanted to get into your pants before the first drink was even finished, or they pretended to be patient—like they weren’t just waiting for the moment you’d cave. You might be inexperienced, but you weren’t stupid. And as much as you wanted to get it over with, you couldn’t do it with just anyone.

But after getting dumped for the third time in two months, you decided to do something about it. Something had to change. You wished you’d just handled it back in high school like everyone else, but that ship had sailed.

Your friends told you to just ask one of your guy friends to help you out. Which sounded easy enough… until you actually pictured doing it, and embarrassment nearly killed you on the spot.

Still, if you wanted to lose your virginity, your options were limited. The random guys you’d been trying to date were too impatient, too pushy, and way too stupid.

Which meant your only real option was actually asking a friend. But which one? 

You had a few options, but you needed someone who wouldn’t laugh in your face or make things weird. Someone who’d get that this was just a favor, not a relationship.

Okay. That made things a little easier.

Maybe Mingi? You’d been friends for years, you went to the same college now, and he was definitely experienced enough to help. Plus, he already knew you were a virgin, so at least you wouldn’t have to explain that part.

But how were you supposed to ask him?

Like… “Hey, I need someone to fuck me so I can finally lose my virginity and date like a normal person”?

Yeah. That didn’t sound awkward at all. Well, you would have to try. Maybe it would be less awkward if you could text him…

You: Hey! You good? Look… I kinda need to talk to you about something. 

Mingi: Hey, pretty. Long time since we talked, wanna hang out at that coffee place you like? 

You: Sure, we can meet there after class. Byeee, see ya.

Well, if you couldn’t even type the question, saying it out loud was going to be a nightmare. But you had to try. No backing out now.

After class, you went straight to the coffee shop and ordered your usual before Mingi arrived. The second you saw him walk through the door, your stomach dropped, a cold, nervous, oh-god-what-am-I-doing panic settling in. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.

“Hey! Still buried in your books, nerd?”

“Yeah, and it’s been causing me some problems.” Mainly the one you were about to dump on him. “What about you? Still hitting up every party?”

“Not as much. Kinda got tired of it.”

That… was a surprise.

“Oh. Right.”

He ordered his drink, then leaned on the table, watching you. “So… what did you wanna talk about?”

Okay. You can do it.

“Uh… so… I don’t even know how to say this, Mingi.” You took a slow sip of your way too large Americano, trying to find the right words. “I mean, it might be a lot to ask, but I’m kinda out of options.”

He tilted his head, waiting.

“I got dumped again yesterday. And look, I know these guys are assholes and not worth my time, but it keeps happening because I’m a virgin. And I feel like… it’s really getting in my way, you know?”

“Uh… I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t.” You groaned, shifting in your seat. “Okay, what I’m asking… it’s just a favor, that’s all. I really want to lose my virginity, and I really don’t want it to be with those idiots I’ve been dating.”

Mingi blinked. Then blinked again.

“You’re asking me… to take your virginity?” His eyebrows shot up, his expression somewhere between shock and did I hear that right? “…Is that what’s happening here?”

“Yeah… I mean…” You trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.

Mingi still looked shocked, but you could tell—this whole situation was doing wonders for his already massive ego.

“I gotta ask… why me?” He leaned back slightly, arms crossed, clearly enjoying this a little too much. “You have a few friends.”

You sighed.

“You already know I’m a virgin. And you also know I’m not an idiot.” You glanced down at your drink, feeling your face heat up. “We’ve been friends for years, and I don’t know… I trust you.”

Mingi didn’t say anything right away, and the silence made your stomach twist.

“But if this is too much,” you added quickly, forcing a laugh, “just forget I ever said anything. And then I’ll dig a hole in the ground and hide from you for the rest of my life.”

“Relax, I was just curious,” Mingi said, holding back a grin. “Of course, I can help you with that. I think any guy in the world would.” 

You rolled your eyes. His ego was thriving.

“But,” he continued, tilting his head again, making that cute puppy face at you “I gotta ask… how far have you actually gone?”

You exhaled sharply. Alright. You can do this. You weren’t exactly the type to chat about your sex life — or lack thereof — but considering you’d just asked Mingi to take your virginity, honesty was kinda mandatory at this point.

“Huh… I…”

“Oral? Fingering?” He had zero shame. Which, good for him. Terrible for you.

You cleared your throat.

“No. And… yes.”

“And did you ever… you know, finish from it?”

“Nope. Only by myself.”

That bit of information seemed to stir something in him. His expression flickered between offended and genuinely shocked.

“Damn. So the guys were really that bad, huh?” He shook his head, exhaling like this was personally upsetting. “Yeah, okay. We’re definitely not jumping straight to it, that’d be traumatizing.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you suggesting…?”

“That we take it step by step.” He leaned in slightly, voice a little lower, a little slower. “I can’t just… do it. I mean, it’s already a painful experience for most girls, and it’d be a hell of a lot easier for you if we… prepped first.”

You were already blushing because of his lower voice. It got worse.

“Oh…OH…”

“Yeah. Well, that’s my one condition if I’m gonna help you.”

“Okay… I guess.” You swallowed, fingers tightening around your cup. “So, uh… when do we start?”

Mingi shrugged, finishing his coffee.

“You can come over tonight if you want. My roommate’s out.”

He set his cup down and looked at you expectantly. You, on the other hand, were frozen.

That soon? 

You did want to get this over with. But you’d kinda imagined having some time to mentally prepare. Then again… maybe not thinking too much about it was the better option. If you gave yourself too much time, you might just chicken out entirely.

“Okay. So…”

“We can go now,” Mingi said, already standing up. “It’s getting dark anyway.” He waited for you to do the same, then tilted his head before asking you. “You’re really sure about this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I can ask you to stop anytime, right?”

“Of course.”

You nodded, but your mind was already spinning. You couldn’t stop thinking about what you were about to do — and who you were about to do it with. But the truth was, you had no idea what was actually going to happen. Mingi had been clear, this wasn’t going to be just jumping into it.

So… were you two just going to make out and see where it led?

Jesus. Just thinking about that made your stomach flip.

You hadn’t really considered how weird this could get, but for some reason, you still felt safe about it. Mingi was a lot of things, kind of a fuckboy, sure, but he wasn’t a liar. If something felt off, he’d tell you. You just knew that.

As soon as you got to his place, Mingi gestured for you to sit on the couch before heading to the kitchen. A moment later, he came back with two cans of beer, handing you one. The silence was already killing you.

“Drink,” he said, popping open his can. “Might help you relax. You’re really tense.”

“Yeah, I am… thanks.” You exhaled, cracking yours open. “I was just about to ask for one.”

Mingi smirked before sinking into the couch beside you. “So… tell me more about these guys you dated. They’re really dumping you just because you’re a virgin?”

“Yeah… I mean, they always try to get in my pants, and when I don’t let them, they just… lose interest.” You shrugged, taking a sip. “I don’t even always tell them I’m a virgin. I don’t need that getting around and people making fun of me, you know? So I just let them assume I’m, like, frigid or something.”

“They’re just assholes.” He paused, tilting his head. “But, like… your virginity… it’s not something important to you?”

“Not exactly…” You sighed, swirling the beer in your can. “I just wish I’d gotten over it when I was younger, like all my friends did. But you know my parents.”

Mingi nodded. He definitely knew.

“I just couldn’t do it with some random guy,” you continued. “That would’ve been awful.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, watching you. “I get that.”

“And I know you’re very experienced, so…”

Mingi chuckled, finishing off his beer and setting the empty can on the coffee table.

“I wouldn’t say very… Just… enough.”

Oh. His voice. The way he looked at you.

There it was.

That shift in the air, the kind of tension you could feel settling between you. You took a slow, deep breath, then placed your empty can next to his.

“If you say so…”

“So… whenever you’re ready, pretty.”

Your stomach flipped again.

“Can we… kiss?”

Mingi’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Yeah. That’d be a great start. I told you… I wanna take things slow.”

You were already sitting close, so all it took was him leaning in, a slight tilt of his head, a shift in the air between you. You mirrored him, your breath catching just before your lips met.

Soft. Damn, his lips were soft… and so plump.

So far, nothing too unfamiliar. You let yourself ease into it, testing the feel of him. But then his tongue brushed over your lips before slipping into your mouth, meeting yours in a slow, teasing slide. And that… that sent a rush of heat straight through you.

In just seconds, that shy kiss turned into something messy, wet, hot, needy. Damn it. You could feel the effect between your legs, heat pooling inside your panties. And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, Mingi chuckled, that deep, lazy sound vibrating against your skin as he trailed kisses down your chin, your neck. 

“How you feeling?” he murmured against your throat, his voice low, teasing.

“G-good…”

His lips curved against your skin. “Hm… you’re pressing your thighs together.” Another kiss, right under your jaw. “Already horny?”

God. You swallowed hard. Why were you suddenly so shy?

“Uh… yes.” 

Mingi hummed like he expected that answer. 

“Ever dry-humped someone before?”

“No… never.”

Another smirk, he was such a tease… and then, two slow taps against his thigh.

“Come here. Sit on my lap.”

You hesitated for half a second before obeying, standing up just to settle yourself over him. His thighs… fuck. Thick. Comfortable. Solid under you. And even through his jeans, you could feel him. He was hard, very. 

“Good girl.” Those words hit you in a very specific way…

Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as you kissed him again. Embarrassment still lingered somewhere in the back of your mind, but it was quickly drowned out by the heat pooling deep in your core. You let your body take over, responding to him — the kissing, the touching… the way his big hands gripped your waist, strong and steady.

“Come on, baby. Grind on me.”

Oh, fuck.

You felt those words straight between your legs, a sharp pulse of need making you clench so hard you whimpered against his lips.

Mingi groaned, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, guiding you into motion, urging you to move against him. Against his hard cock pressing through his jeans. Against his thick thighs.

“Just like that…” The delicious friction sent sparks up your spine, and soon enough, you were moving all on your own, chasing more of it. “Don’t stop.”

“Mingi… fuck!”

You ground down harder, a little faster, just enough to push you right over the edge. The orgasm hit you in waves, leaving you shivering and whimpering in his lap as his hands held you steady. He murmured soft praises, his voice thick with something dangerous, something that made your toes curl. Wow, that was really fast.

And all you could think was: Holy shit! You just had the best orgasm of your life. From grinding on your friend. And you didn’t know how you were supposed to feel about that, but you were just fine for now.

“So… was it good?” Mingi chuckled against your neck, his lips trailing soft, teasing kisses back up to your mouth. “You good?”

“Yeah, but… I feel… uh…” You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, to think. “I don’t know. I just came, but I’m still…”

Needy. You didn’t have to say.

His lips curled into a smirk, and you didn’t even know you like that pretty face of him that much.  

“We can keep going if you want to.”

“What would be the next step? Since you wanna take things slow.”

“Hm…” He tilted his head, considering. “Maybe I can make you feel good with my fingers. If you’re okay with that.”

Your brain short-circuited for a second. Because fuck. Your panties were soaked, embarrassingly wet just from kissing and grinding against him. But you were still throbbing, still desperate for more.

So you just… nodded. 

 “Yeah… it’s fine.”

Still perched on his lap, you hesitated before shifting off him, kneeling on the couch beside him. Your legs felt shaky, but not from exhaustion, no. It was pure anticipation.

Mingi followed, sliding down to kneel on the floor in front of you, his eyes dark and hungry as he leaned in.

“You want me to take your shorts off, or you wanna do it yourself?” He murmured the words against your lips, stealing a quick peck before trailing his fingers down to the waistband of your shorts.

“Y-you can do it…”

His touch was slow, deliberate, as he unbuttoned your shorts and slid them down, pushing them aside like they were nothing.

Then, his hands settled on your hips, his thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin.

“Wanna keep the panties on?” His voice was low, husky. “I can still make you feel good like this, if you’re not ready to take them off.”

You should’ve been embarrassed. Should’ve felt shy about the way he was staring at you, at your pussy, taking in the obvious wet stain darkening the fabric.

But you weren’t.

Because he looked wrecked just from seeing you like this. And you loved that, really turned you on even more.

“...It’s okay,” you whispered. “You can take them off too. I mean… there’s no point feeling shy now, right?” Your breath hitched. “You’re gonna see my pussy anyway…”

“Hm…” He chuckled at your words, fingers toying with the waistband of your panties. “So… you told me you’ve been fingered before, right? How was it for you?”

You hesitated for a second before exhaling, remembering the times you let that happen.

“It was always rushed. Like… in the backseat of a car, or some dark corner in a club. Sometimes it just felt uncomfortable. Sometimes a little painful…”

Mingi hummed, his fingers slipping lower, tracing light patterns over the fabric.

“So has anyone actually seen this pretty pussy, baby?” His voice had dropped, thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “Am I really the first?”

Your breath hitched as he hooked his fingers under the elastic, dragging your panties down slowly, revealing your mound first, then the rest as you lifted your hips just enough to help him.

“Yes… you are.”

“Fuck.” His exhale was heavy, like he was struggling. His hands smoothed over your bare thighs, slow and teasing, while you instinctively pressed your legs together. You had just told him there was no point in feeling shy, but still… his eyes on you like that made your skin burn. Mingi let out a soft, amused hum, his lower voice killing you. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, baby.” His thumbs brushed gently along the inside of your thighs. “But I need you to talk to me, okay? I don’t want you to feel any pain.”

You nodded, but he wasn’t done.

“Good girl.” He said that again, making you shiver once more at his words. His lips curled into something dangerously soft, dangerously sweet. “Now… spread your legs for me.” His voice was just sinful, God. “Let me see you.”

Even with a lingering trace of shyness, you spread your legs for him. Mingi let out a sound that looked like a moan, his eyes locked onto your glistening pussy like he was savoring the sight. You knew you were dripping, could feel it pooling beneath you, and the thought alone made you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for his touch.

“Nah-ah.” His voice was pure, silken dominance. A soft kiss landed on your thigh, his warm palm resting against your belly. “Eyes on me, baby. I wanna see every little reaction. So behave, and look at me while I touch you, okay?”

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed, blinking up at him, cheeks burning under the weight of his gaze.

Mingi started slow, his fingers first trailing over your mound, teasing, barely there, making you ache for more. Then, with the lightest pressure, he dipped lower, parting your folds, gathering your slick on his fingertips. You whimpered when he finally brushed over your clit, already swollen, already throbbing for him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet…” His voice was rougher now, and when he pressed down on your clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles, your body reacted instantly. Your thighs threatened to snap shut, but his free hand kept you open.

“Talk to me, baby.” He smirked at you, making your cheeks burn again. “You like it when I touch you here?”

“Y-yes… feels so good, Mingi…” Your voice was barely more than a breathy moan, your chest rising and falling rapidly. God, what was this man doing to you?

“Good…” He kept up the slow, torturous rhythm, circling, sliding, making sure you felt every second of it. And then he smirked again, eyes flickering down between your legs. “I can see you clenching…” His fingers teased lower, brushing over your dripping hole, but never pushing in. “You want a finger inside this pretty pussy, huh?”

“Yes… please.”

You’d never felt like this before. Sure, you’d touched yourself before — your fingers, the desperate grind against your pillow. But this? Craving someone else's touch this badly? That was new.

“Yeah?” Mingi’s voice was warm, teasing, his breath fanning against your skin. “Alright, baby. Gonna put it in now. Tell me if it hurts, I’ll stop right away.”

He played with your clit for a second longer, making you squirm, before twisting his wrist and easing his middle finger inside you. He slid in easily — too easily — because you were already so wet, dripping onto his palm.

“Fuck…” He exhaled, watching the way you clenched around him, his voice thick with something almost reverent. “You’re clenching around my finger so tight, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“Hm… it’s okay. No pain…” Your words were soft, airy, but your body was already responding to him, hips shifting just the slightest bit, searching for more.

“Yeah?” He started moving, slow thrusts, just the tip at first, then deeper, dragging against your walls in slow, deliberate strokes. “You like it like this? Or maybe…” He let his finger sink all the way in, curling it just right, hitting somewhere entirely new inside you.

A moan ripped from your throat before you could stop it. 

Mingi chuckled, clearly pleased. “I think I have my answer… Looks like I just found your G-spot.”

“It’s… embarrassing that I couldn’t find it myself…”

“Mm, it’s fine, baby…” His tone was honeyed sin, smooth and coaxing. “It’s kinda deep, see?” He pushed in again, curling that single finger right against the spot, making your body jolt. “Here… this spongy little place… this is where you’re most sensitive inside.”

Another slow press, another deliberate curl of his finger, sending a shudder down your spine, leaving you gasping.

“Feels… different…”

“A good different? Or do you want me to stop?”

“No… keep going. It’s good… really good…”

“Mm…” He smirked, his free hand sliding down to find your clit, circling it in slow, teasing motions while his finger pressed against that spot inside you over and over again. “Like this, baby? Feels good?”

“Yes…” Your voice was breathy, almost desperate. It felt too good — like nothing you’d ever experienced before. You had no idea your body could respond like this, that just one finger could unravel you so easily. But now you knew. And you needed more. “Don’t stop…”

Mingi hummed in approval, his movements shifting, pressing into your G-spot with more precision, rubbing your clit with just the right amount of pressure. It was overwhelming, the pleasure washing over you in such an intense way it left you breathless. Your hips had a mind of their own now, rolling into his touch, grinding against his hand as you chased the high building inside you.

“That’s it, baby…” His voice was low, dripping with praise. “Keep riding my fingers like that… fuck, you look so pretty like this…”

You felt something building inside you—something different. A weird kind of pressure you’d never felt during an orgasm before. It made you panic a little.

“Mingi… feels weird.” But it still felt good, so you didn’t stop. You kept grinding against his hand, chasing the high.

“Weird how? Talk to me.”

“Like I’m gonna… pee…” you admitted, your voice small, embarrassed.

“Mmh…” He didn’t sound the least bit bothered. “Wanna try letting go, baby? You might squirt if you do. It’ll feel so good…”

But you couldn’t. The sensation was too intense, too unfamiliar. And the idea of actually doing that in front of him made your whole body tense up.

“I can’t… I just wanna cum, please… make me cum…”

He kissed your thigh again, soft and reassuring, his finger still buried deep inside you. But now his focus shifted. His other hand is working your clit in that perfect way. God, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Come on, baby… cum on my fingers. Keep moving, just like that…”

You did. And it hit you hard. Your orgasm crashed over you, stealing your breath, making your legs tremble uncontrollably. You couldn’t even speak, so you just moaned and whimpered as he worked you through it, drawing it out until you were spent.

Then he slowly pulled his finger out and, without breaking eye contact, brought it to his mouth and licked it clean. The sight alone made your pussy clench again.

“You taste so fucking good…”

You bit your lower lip, trying to hold back a moan, because fuck. He wasn’t even touching you anymore.

“So…” Mingi sat back down beside you, his tone playful. “How was it for you?”

You let out a breathy laugh, still recovering. “That was amazing… thank you. Uh—” your hand moved to his thigh, remembering how you’d been grinding on it minutes ago, “—want me to return the favor?”

“Not today, pretty. Tonight was all about figuring out what you like.”

“Well, mission accomplished.”

“Next time we can try adding another finger… if you’re up for it. Maybe I could eat you out, too.”

“You really wanna do that?”

He looked at you like you were crazy. 

“What kind of question is that?” His eyes dropped briefly to your bare skin. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know… Some guys just don’t like giving head, I guess.”

“Straight guys? I don’t think I know anyone like that. Shit… were your exes that kind of loser?”

“One of them… maybe two.”

“Yeah, they probably didn’t like girls to begin with.” He laughed, shaking his head. “But me? I love eating pussy. You’re so damn responsive… so sensitive. Probably ‘cause you’re a virgin. Honestly, I had a lot of fun today.”

You smiled, cheeks warm. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is!” He gave you one of his cutest smiles, like he wasn’t just talking about eating you out a minute ago.

“Wanna crash here or want me to take you home?”

“I don’t know… I think I could stay on your couch.”

“Damn, do you think I’m an asshole or something?” He laughed, but it had a bit of a bitter edge to it. “You can use my bed. I mean, if you want, we can share. It’s big, and I don’t mind. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll take the couch.”

“Calm down, Mingi… I just don’t wanna bother.”

“We’re friends, relax. So, bed or couch?”

“We can share the bed, I don’t mind.” You were just a little embarrassed, but it was fine. “Give me one of your shirts or something so I can sleep.”

“Wanna shower?” You did. You were still a mess, sticky and flustered, adjusting your clothes like it would help somehow. “Go ahead, I’ll order some food.”

Mingi was so sweet you couldn’t help but feel safe there, like actually comfortable. That post-makeout awkwardness you usually felt with guys? Nonexistent. Maybe it was because he was your friend, and it really felt like he cared.

You took a long, needed shower, and when you were done, he handed you a pair of boxers, some comfy shorts, and a soft oversized shirt like you’d asked. He’d ordered Chinese, and you ate with him while watching TV like nothing had just happened between you — chatting about college, life, random stuff. At some point, you were barely keeping your eyes open.

“Let’s go to bed. It’s pretty late,” he said, turning off the TV and getting up. “I’m gonna shower. You can go ahead and sleep if you want.”

So you did. You headed to his room, crawled into his bed and immediately sank into the smell of his sheets. That soft, clean scent of his cologne was everywhere. Your brain briefly panicked about what you’d tell your roommate the next day, assuming you’d even tell her anything. But she'd probably annoy you until you did.

You were drifting off when you heard Mingi come in. He had a towel slung low around his hips, and you peeked — just a little — before shutting your eyes again. He changed, then slipped into bed right beside you, and suddenly your heart was racing. He smelled like soap, like shampoo, like everything warm and familiar, and holy shit, all you wanted to do was reach out and touch him. But you didn’t. You forced yourself to stay still, and eventually, you managed to fall asleep.

But nothing — nothing — could’ve prepared you for the morning.

You woke up to a warm weight draped over your waist. At first, you almost ignored it… until you remembered you weren’t in your bed. You weren’t in your room. You were at Mingi’s. And his arm was on your waist.

And then it all came rushing back… the way his finger felt inside you, the things he said, the way you came so hard you couldn’t speak… and now? Now he was pressed right up against you, and very clearly hard. You could feel his cock resting against your lower back, thick and hot even through the fabric, and you really, really didn’t want to freak out.

But fuck.

How?

You shifted your hips, just a little, enough to grind back into him, slow and deliberate, because you wanted to feel him. All of him.

Mingi mumbled something low, half-asleep, and pulled you closer, spooning you tight, his breath warm against your neck. The way it made you shiver? Unfair. You bit back a soft moan, trying to keep it together.

You couldn’t stop wondering… was this just morning wood? Or was he actually turned on?

But the way he was holding you, not moving away, letting your ass press right up against him like that… yeah, it could definitely be both.

“Hey…” His voice was deep and rough, soaked in sleep, and it went straight to your core. “You doing that on purpose?”

“I was just… trying to feel you.”

Your voice came out breathier than you expected. He let out a low groan, somewhere between sleepy and way too sexy for your own good.

“Then why don’t you just touch it?”

“You want me to touch your dick?” You didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but damn.

He chuckled against your neck, his body shaking a little with it.

“You did say you wanted to feel me.” Then he rolled onto his back, arms behind his head, shameless and relaxed. “I’m all yours.”

You could see it. The tent in his shorts, the thick bulge straining against the fabric… and shit, it looked huge.

You swallowed hard, your shaky hands practically begging to touch him.

You sat up on the bed, reached for him, and the second your fingers brushed over his clothed length, you felt it. Hard and heavy, all for you. Fuck. 

“Shit, baby… want me to take it out for you?”

His voice was low and wrecked, thick with lust, and god, he wanted this just as badly as you did.

“I can do it.” Your fingers slid under his waistband, tugging down his shorts and boxers in one go until his cock sprang free. Thick, flushed, and already leaking, smacking lightly against his stomach. “So big…”

“Yeah?” He wrapped a hand around himself, giving a slow squeeze that made precum beads at the tip. “You like it?”

“Yes…” God, you did. He was pretty, and that wasn't something you'd ever said about a dick before. But his? Fuck, yes. “Let me touch you.”

You weren’t some handjob expert or anything, you’d done it before, sure, but this felt different. Bigger. More intense. More him. Still, you wanted to do it right. You wanted to make him feel good.

Mingi watched you as you wrapped your fingers around him, slow strokes at first, eyes flicking between your hand and your face. His cock twitched in your grip, and that alone made your thighs clench. 

He hummed in approval when you squeezed a bit harder, stroking slowly, getting his tip wetter with precum before you could do it a bit faster.

But you wanted more. 

You didn’t even think, just leaned in and spit on his cock to help your hands glide easier.

The slick sound it made when you started stroking him faster had you biting your lip, and then came his whimper… breathy, needy, absolutely filthy.

“Fuck… you’re good at this…”

Hearing that lit something in you. Gave you all the confidence you needed to keep going.

You spit on him again, not giving a damn about being messy, and the way Mingi moaned for you… it was the hottest sound you’d ever heard.

You were using both hands now; he was big, too big for just one. It made your hands feel small, and the thought of having his cock inside you? Kinda terrifying… but mostly it just made your pussy clench and drip even more.

“Baby… I’m gonna cum—” he panted, voice desperate, eyes locked on you like he was begging you not to stop.

And you didn’t. You weren’t stopping until you felt his hot load spill across your fingers.

He let out a deep, wrecked moan as he came, hips twitching, cock pulsing in your hands. His cum painted your fingers, spilled onto his belly, his pelvis, so much of it.

God, it was so hot.

You loved the feeling, knowing you made him come like that. Make him lose it with just your hands.

“So…” Mingi was still catching his breath, chest rising and falling. “Now you’ve felt me.”

You laughed under your breath. Yeah, the whole thing started with you just wanting to feel how hard he was. But this? This was so much better.

“Yeah… I liked that. And…” You still had his cum on your fingers, warm and sticky. And you didn’t fight the urge anymore. You brought them to your mouth, licking them clean right in front of him — just like he did with you. “I like your taste too.”

“Fuck, you’re killing me.”

He sat on the bed and pulled you closer, kissing you like he needed it. That caught you off guard. You thought most guys would be grossed out by kissing you after you had their cum in your mouth.

But not Mingi.

He kissed you deep, tongue and all, messy and hot, just the way you liked it.

“Can I do something? Please?” he asked, breathless against your lips.

“What?” You were already dizzy from the kiss alone.

“I wanna eat your pussy…”

You felt heat rush through your whole body. You wanted that, bad. Even if the sunlight was peeking through the window, making everything feel more exposed. There was no way you could say no.

“…Okay.”

You didn’t know exactly what to do, but Mingi did. He gently switched your positions, laying you on your back and climbing over you.

He tugged your shorts off and tossed them aside without looking, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your pussy. You were soaked, your arousal shining under the light, and it clearly drove him wild.

You didn’t need to be asked, your legs opened for him on their own, desperate to know how it would feel to have his mouth on you.

He kissed your thighs first, slow and wet, his soft lips making obscene sounds against your flushed skin. You couldn’t stop staring at him, he looked like he was enjoying this as much as you.

Your eyes locked, and in that second, you knew: if you wanted him to stop, he would. You felt safe. Even with your legs spread wide open in front of him.

Then his lips met your mound. A chill shot through your spine and you had to fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together.

But Mingi kept you open for him.

He pressed a kiss to your clit first, then started to lick it, slowly, teasing, just getting a taste of you. Watching your reactions.

Your eyes fluttered shut. It was already one of the best things you’d ever felt — and somehow, it got better. He started sucking your clit, flicking his tongue over it, then dipped just the tip of his tongue inside you. Then he was making out with your pussy, completely lost in it.

You wanted to scream. Your whole body was trembling, your chest tight with how good it felt. You couldn’t keep your hips still, you were grinding against his mouth, moaning uncontrollably, fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him even closer.

You were so close. You could feel yourself falling apart.

And when your orgasm hit, it wrecked you.

Your legs trembled, your stomach clenched, and your moans were so loud you didn’t even register them until your body started to come down.

It was hands down the best orgasm of your life.

Fuck.

Mingi kissed your thighs while you were still trembling, then crawled up your body to press soft kisses to your neck and lips.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, and fuck, that was easily the hottest thing you’d ever done.

“So… did you like it?”

“Are you kidding?” Your voice was barely audible. “That was insanely good.”

“I’m glad.” He let himself drop beside you with a satisfied sigh, stretching lazily. “Hmm… I think we should get some breakfast. But… my roommate might be home already…”

What?

Fuck.

There was someone there? And Mingi just let you moan like that?

“You didn’t think that was worth mentioning before I screamed loud enough for your neighbors to know your name?”

“Nope,” he said, grinning. “Didn’t want you to hold back. But relax. If he heard anything, he won’t care.”

“Fuck, Mingi. I’m so embarrassed.”

“There’s no need. He won’t say anything, and he won’t even know it was you. I’m not telling anyone.”

“…Okay then. Thanks. I guess.”

You didn’t stay in bed much longer. Not because it wasn’t tempting, but because you were starving. You changed back into your clothes from yesterday, and Mingi took you out to your favorite coffee shop so you could have your much-needed morning caffeine.

What surprised you most was how easy everything felt. There was no awkwardness between you two.

You talked about college, cracked dumb jokes, and laughed about random stuff like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just made you come harder than anyone ever had.

But then it hit you: a vivid flashback of Mingi’s mouth between your legs, and your thighs clenched on their own. Your cheeks burned instantly.

“What?” he asked, smirking. “You’re blushing.”

“Yeah, I…” Why couldn’t you breathe properly all of a sudden? “Sorry, I just…”

“You were thinking about the dirty stuff we did, huh?” He leaned closer, teasing. “I think you might be ready to really do it.”

“I was… and you think so?”

“Yeah. I figured you might be a little traumatized from the other guys,” he said gently, “but you’re doing fine. So, whenever you feel ready… we can.”

You were speechless. Truth was, you’d felt ready the second he first kissed you. He had been nothing but respectful, never pushing, never rushing, and that made you want him even more.

“…Okay, so what do you think about tonight?”

Mingi raised his eyebrows, looking a little surprised by what you’d just said. You were surprised, too. You thought it would take longer for you to let go like that. But the truth was… you felt ready. And the best part? Him.

You weren’t going to lose your virginity to some random loser. It was going to be with someone you trusted. Someone who cared about you.

“It’s totally up to you. I’m free tonight,” he said with a soft smile, a sweet one this time. “You sure about this?”

“Yeah… I really want to.”

Mingi smiled wider and, like the absolute prince he was, formally invited you on a date. He said he didn’t want to just take you to his place and jump into bed — he wanted to give you the whole experience. And you kinda liked the idea.

He even walked you home. But the moment you stepped into your apartment, your roommate nearly lost her mind.

“Tell me everything!!! You slept with your hot friend, didn’t you?! I saw you two! Holy shit, he’s gorgeous… you’re so fucking lucky.”

“I didn’t…” you muttered, cheeks burning. “Yet.”

You were way too embarrassed to give her all the details, like how he made you moan louder than you ever had in your life. So you just said one thing led to another… and now you had a date.

That was enough to send her into full panic-mode-on-your-behalf. She practically dragged you out of the house to buy lingerie, insisting that if you were finally going to lose your virginity, you needed something sexy. And you knew that she was right.

You found a few beautiful sets. Lacy bras and panties that made you feel way hotter than you expected. But once you bought them, it really hit you: this was happening. You were finally going to have sex.

Fuck.

You still couldn’t believe it.

Back home, your roommate helped you style your hair and pick out an outfit for the night.

She was genuinely happy for you, and you were getting really nervous. But in the best possible way.

“Listen… it might hurt a little. But it’ll feel good after, okay? Just keep that in mind.”

She wasn’t trying to scare you — she was actually being gentle — but it wasn’t exactly helping. “And he’s experienced, right? That’s a very good thing.”

“I know it’s gonna hurt…” Because Mingi was big. Like, the biggest you’d ever seen. “But I’m not really that scared about the pain. I’m more nervous about… what happens after.”

“Like… things getting weird between you two?”

“I don’t think they will…”

And you meant it. Mingi didn’t make things weird. He made you feel safe.

“Then relax,” she said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “And for the love of God, use a condom.”

That made you laugh, even if you weren’t sure why. Maybe because you were quietly freaking out and laughter was the only thing keeping you from losing it.

And yeah… time was running out. He’d be there any minute, and your nerves weren’t exactly calming down.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that it was Mingi. You’d already done things with him, intimate things. This was just the next step. You wanted it. And you trusted him. Everything was going to be fine.

Your roommate helped you finish your makeup, soft and glowy, just the way you liked, and a few minutes later, your phone buzzed.

Mingi was calling. He was already downstairs, waiting for you. 

When you came down, he was already in the car, parked right in front of your building. As soon as you got in, the scent of his cologne hit you. Clean, expensive, and so him. He looked really good too, even more so in those clothes.

“Hi…” you said, trying not to fall apart while buckling your seatbelt. “Where are you taking me?”

“Well… I know you like Italian food, so I picked a nice Italian restaurant.”

“You’re making me really nervous, you know? I…” your voice was shaky, your breathing unsteady. “I just feel a little weird doing this, like…”

Like it was something serious. That’s what you meant.

“There’s no need to be nervous, you know that, right?” he said gently. “We’ve gone out to eat a bunch of times. The only difference is that tonight, I’m helping you with something… personal.” He smirked, starting the car. “Could’ve happened before, if you wanted.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m unsure about this. I want it. I’ve been thinking about it all day, actually… it’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Maybe you’re just overthinking it,” he said, flashing you that same calm, charming smile. “It’s all good. We don’t need to plan every step. Let’s just eat, talk, and see where the night takes us.”

He was right, you knew that. But still, why was your heart racing like that? Damn. 

Either way, you managed to calm down a bit when he let you pick the music.

Dinner was amazing. You ate well, sipped on some very good wine, and Mingi showed you just how much of a gentleman he could be on a date. You’d been out with him before, sure, but it never felt like this. This was different. This was a real date.

A few hours passed in what felt like minutes. Eating, drinking, laughing, talking. When the check came, he grabbed it and paid before you could even peek at the price.

As you were leaving the restaurant, his hand found your lower back — guiding you gently, protectively, until you reached the car. That simple touch made you shiver, even though you were way calmer than earlier.

“So…” he said once you were both buckled in. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

The playful tone in his voice helped a lot. You were still a little nervous, sure, but you knew exactly what you wanted now. You weren’t backing out.

“Maybe your place, handsome,” you replied, matching his tone.

He chuckled, turning the engine on. “Not nervous anymore?”

“Just a little. But I’m good.”

“That’s good.”

You looked over at him while he drove, and damn, he looked so good. So relaxed, so confident. You were on a date with a ridiculously hot guy… and you were going to sleep with him. Silly thoughts, maybe. But you couldn’t stop them.

Not long after you left the restaurant, Mingi was already pulling into the parking lot of his building, and you could feel the thick tension between you as soon as you stepped into the elevator. He was acting all relaxed, but you could tell… he was probably just as nervous as you.

When he opened the door to his apartment, you walked into the living room a little faster than you meant to, maybe driven by all that anticipation building inside you. He locked the door behind you and turned the lights on.

“Do you want something to drink…?”

“Not now, but thanks. I’m kinda nervous…” You bit your lower lip, taking a good look at him. God, he looked so good. So fucking good. “Can we… go to your room?”

“I’m kinda nervous too, to be honest. I’m gonna be your first, and I really don’t want this to be a bad experience for you. I’ll try my best.”

“Mingi, I trust you. I really do. I’m not even worried about that…”

“Good… so, we’re both nervous and in the mood. What are we waiting for?”

You chuckled at his words as he guided you to his bedroom. He had changed the sheets, it smelled really nice in there, clean but still like him. You sat right on the edge of his bed and waited as he closed the door behind you.

When he turned around and looked at you, his gaze was so intense, you could feel he was holding something back. And fuck… you couldn’t wait to find out what he was going to do to you.

Mingi sat right next to you, and after making you squirm under his intense stare, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a rough, hungry kiss. Fuck… it was really happening now. Kissing him wasn’t new, but this time it felt different. It felt hotter, more desperate, like you both couldn’t wait any longer.

Your body was already burning up, and it was like he knew exactly what you needed. Without saying a word, he unzipped your dress and slid it off you like it was nothing, not even giving you a second to overthink it. You let him, kissing him harder, wanting more.

You couldn’t help but silently thank your friend for making you buy that lingerie set, because the second Mingi saw you sitting there in just your bra and panties, he let out the filthiest fucking groan.

He hooked a finger under the strap of your bra, playing with it, before biting your lip and trailing his mouth down your neck. Then, without hesitation, he reached behind you, unhooked your bra with one quick move, and tossed it aside like he couldn’t get it off fast enough. 

He was still fully dressed, it didn’t feel fair at all. So you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. You had to break the kiss for just a second to pull it off, and that gave you a chance to really look at him… his flushed face, his lips already swollen from how hard you’d been kissing him. You couldn’t help yourself. You had to bite them, suck on them, make him feel just as desperate as you did.

You pushed him back until he was lying flat on the bed, and as soon as he hit the mattress, you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. This time, it was you who kissed him like you were starving for it, your tongue in his mouth, your hands all over his chest, raking your nails down his skin.

His hands slid down from your waist to your ass, gripping you so hard it almost hurt, squeezing and groping until you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. He pulled you closer, pressing you down against the bulge in his pants, making you grind against him as your bare tits brushed over his chest.

But he wanted more. He pulled you enough to bury his face in your breasts, licking and sucking your nipples, teasing them with his hot tongue until they were aching. He devoured you, biting just hard enough to make you gasp, his lips marking you, claiming every inch of your skin. Fuck, it felt so good you couldn’t think.

You shifted to kiss him again, grinding shamelessly against his clothed cock, your hips moving on instinct as dirty flashbacks flooded your mind. You could already feel how soaked your panties were, though they barely counted as panties at all. The thin, see-through thong did nothing to hide how wet and desperate you’d gotten for him.

“Baby… I gotta…” He grabbed your hips, holding you still for a second as his hands moved down to unbuckle his pants. You hadn’t even realized how tight they were on him. “Let me take these off.”

As soon as he shoved them down and kicked them away, you climbed right back on top of him, grinding against his cock again, slow and needy. He left his boxers on, but you could already see the wet spot spreading there. 

You really wanted to make him feel good, you felt this urge to try something new, it was pulsing inside you. You rested your hands on his chest, slowly breaking the kiss.

“Mingi… can I…” Your fingers slid down to his waistband, teasing, pulling the elastic just enough to catch a glimpse of the neatly trimmed hair there. “Can I suck you off?”

He blinked at you a few times, like he couldn’t quite believe what you’d just said. Of course, you knew you were offering something no man in the world could resist, and you wanted to get that exact reaction out of him. It worked.

“F… fuck. You really wanna do that?” He licked his lips, almost trembling beneath you. “If you really want to… do it. I know I’m gonna fucking love it.”

“It’s my first time…” you murmured, trailing wet kisses along his jaw, down his neck, then over his chest and hard abs. “Tell me how to make you feel good.”

He just nodded, breath hitching, eyes fixed on you as you slid his boxers down, finally freeing his cock. It sprang up, thick and heavy, slapping against his lower belly. Your mouth watered instantly. Fuck… you’d never thought about sucking a dick before, but you needed it, craved the taste of him.

You wet your lips first, then stroked him slowly a few times, just to watch the precum bead at the tip. You leaned in and cleaned it up with your tongue. It tasted a little salty, but it only made you crave more. You licked along his length, making him groan again, a sound that you felt deep between your legs as you clenched harder than you thought was possible.

Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you started sucking on the tip, just like your friends had described before. God, you liked his taste, and you were already making a mess with your spit and his precum.

“Just like that, baby… make it wet. I like messy.”

Fuck, his voice. You couldn’t believe how turned on you were just from sucking him off.

You tried to take more of him into your mouth, and you gagged a little when he hit the back of your throat, but the way he moaned almost made you not care at all.

“You’re so pretty sucking dick, baby… keep going…” He caressed your head, holding your hair to get a better view as you started moving a little faster. “Fuck, yes… use your hand too. Like that… fuck. Such a good girl for me.”

You didn’t care if you were choking on his cock or not. You loved being praised like that. You could already feel how wet you were, ready to drip at any second.

You kept using your hand just like he told you to, listening to every instruction, loving how much he kept telling you how good you were at it. You bobbed your head faster, getting used to taking him while jerking him off at the same time. It was hard at first, but now you were doing it easily.

“I don’t wanna cum in your mouth… let's stop here. Let me eat your pussy now.”

He gently pushed you away, watching as a string of spit kept him connected to your swollen lips.

“God, you’re gonna kill me.” He touched your lower lip, running his thumb across it, as if he couldn’t resist praising you. “Lay down and spread those legs for me, huh?”

You used the back of your hand to wipe your chin and happily laid down for him, letting him slide your ruined panties off in a second.

“Fucking God, you’re so wet…” He ran his fingers between your pussy lips, feeling just how slick you were. “Baby got this wet just from sucking my cock?”

Yes, you did. And you were so horny that any trace of embarrassment had already faded. You nodded, spreading your legs a bit more, silently begging him to lick your pussy because you couldn’t wait another second.

Mingi didn’t make you wait. He dived in, eating you out like you were his favorite fucking meal. His groans and moans vibrated against your pussy, his tongue teasing your entrance before he slipped a finger inside, making your head spin. Fuck. You ground down on his face, unable to stop yourself… your whole body was on fire, and you screamed when he added a second finger, the sudden stretch making you shiver under his touch.

There was nothing but pure pleasure. He finger-fucked you so fast and so deep that the obscene wet sounds echoed through the room, proof of how messy and turned on you were.

“Gonna cum… fuck, don’t stop, please…” You clutched at his hair, grinding your pussy against his face, sloppy and desperate. He loved every second of it. So did you.

You tried to close your legs when your orgasm ripped through you, stealing every breath and almost your soul, but he didn’t let you. You whimpered, tried to push him away, but your legs barely worked. He finally stopped touching you, but kept his eyes fixed, watching the way your pussy kept clenching even after you came.

"That was so hot, baby..." When you finally came down from your high, you saw Mingi ripping open the condom and rolling it down his cock. "Ready?"

"Yes. Fuck. Yes." You didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but your pussy wasn’t exactly letting your brain make decisions anymore. Your legs were already spread, your body completely relaxed, and you couldn’t possibly be any wetter. Everything was ready.

"Okay, I’m gonna put it in… slowly. Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?"

He hovered over you, eyes locked on yours, holding himself up with one arm while guiding his cock to your entrance with the other. You felt the pressure, the stretch as he started pushing in—slow, careful. There was pain, but not in a way that made you want to stop. It was… thick. Full. He was big. You knew that. But feeling it? That was something else. And he was barely halfway in.

"God, you’re so big…" You gripped his biceps, biting down on your lip.

"You can take it." He leaned in and kissed your cheek, his voice deep and steady. "It’s just the tip now, but you can take my cock. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?"

You moaned just from hearing him say that. He already knew how much you loved being praised, and when he felt you clenching around him, he groaned.

"Fuck... can I keep going?"

You nodded, bracing yourself, but the pain never got too sharp. He didn’t bottom out just yet, but even half of him made you feel stretched to your limits. Still, the thought of having him completely inside you made your whole body ache for more. You focused on relaxing, breathing slowly.

"Fuck... I want more. Give it to me. Please."

Mingi waited a few seconds, like he needed to be sure you were okay, and then did exactly what you asked. He was so gentle, so patient—you couldn’t have asked for a better first time. And then it happened. His cock slid all the way in, filling you to the hilt.

The feeling was overwhelming. You felt so full, so hot, so incredibly stretched.

"Tell me when I can move."

You pulled him in for a kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Move... please..."

Nothing could’ve prepared you for that. Not fingers. Not toys. Nothing. It burned at first, but not enough to stop. You were soaked, and the sounds—wet, obscene, addictive—only made you more delirious. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on how he moved inside you, how deep he was, how thick he felt.

But you needed to see it. You looked down, desperate to watch the way your pussy was taking him.

Mingi got the hint. He sat back on his knees, shifting your hips slightly so you could see it happen—see his cock disappearing inside you over and over.

"Play with your clit for me." He grabbed your thighs, his eyes fixed on where you were connected. "Fuck, you're taking me so well..."

You licked your fingers and started rubbing your clit. It was swollen, hypersensitive, and the added stimulation made you moan like a mess. You didn’t care. You just needed more.

"Feels good, baby?" He held himself deep inside you. "Think you can cum for me like that?"

"Yes..." You looked again, watching how slick his cock got each time he slid in. You didn’t stop rubbing, and soon your hips started moving too, chasing that feeling. You felt everything—his size, his weight, the way he hit that same spot his fingers found before—and it made you dizzy.

"You're clenching... keep going, baby. Use my cock. Get yourself off. Cum all over it."

You didn’t hold back. You rode him the way you needed, chasing your high, grinding and moaning and letting go. It didn’t take long. Your body locked up as your orgasm hit, your pussy squeezing him in waves while you screamed, head thrown back, completely undone. Mingi groaned with you, like your pleasure alone was driving him insane.

Your legs were useless now, limp from the intensity. You were still coming down when he started moving again—this time harder, faster, with no hesitation. All you could feel was pleasure.

"You're so hard... I can feel you. So deep..."

"Didn’t think you’d take cock this well, baby... Can I fuck you harder?"

"Yes... fuck me. Wanna feel you cum too."

For a second, you hated the condom, but it didn’t matter. Not when he started pounding into you like that. It was rougher, and you loved every second. Your body was sore but it felt too good to care. You heard his moans, his breath getting shakier as he got closer. He kissed you, bit your neck, and moaned against your lips when he finally came, filling the condom as his cock throbbed inside you.

God, that was insanely good. 

You were caressing his back while he tried to catch his breath. You had just lost your virginity, and it felt so good you could barely believe it.

“So… good enough for your first time?” He slowly slid out of you, pulling off the condom and tying it up. “I’m really glad you chose me, gotta say.”

“It was amazing. Thank you… really.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I did you a favor, and as you can see…” He lifted the condom, still full. “I had a great time too. Huh… Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all. And… you know… is this a one-time thing? I’m sorry for asking that right now, it’s just…” You hesitated, suddenly aware of how exposed you were—and not just physically. “I… I don’t know. Forget it.”

“It doesn’t have to be. A one-time thing, I mean. If you want more…”

“I was just thinking that maybe next time you could… skip the condom, maybe?” Your voice dropped a little, more nervous now. “I was a virgin until now, and I take the pill. I just… really want to know how that would feel.”

“So… you’re asking me to creampie you?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking like the cocky bastard he was. “You know that feels like going to heaven, right?”

He looked so hot saying that, so confident, his body still glistening slightly from sweat. You couldn’t stop staring.

“I can do that, of course. Your pussy’s gonna look so pretty dripping with my cum…”

Your cheeks burned instantly, and you had to look away.

“Hm… feeling shy now? Bit too late for that.” He chuckled, tossing the condom aside and lying down beside you, his fingers lazily exploring your chest, your collarbone, your neck. “Ask me whatever you want. I’ll do it. I can be your first for a lot more things, you know.”

“That sounded like an invitation… want to keep me around?”

You turned to your side, facing him, still trying to process everything that just happened. Your legs were sore, your body still buzzing, and your brain felt like it had short-circuited somewhere halfway through.

Mingi looked over at you with that same cocky, satisfied smile, resting one arm under his head.

“I think I'll.”

A second later, he slid closer behind you, pressing his bare chest against your back and wrapping an arm lazily around your waist. You didn’t answer him, it wasn’t necessary. You just tangled your fingers with his and fell asleep. 

Somehow, the crazy decision that led you to end up naked in his bed turned out to be the best one you’ve ever made.

[someonellly]

Moonshine Peaches

Country Dilf! Choi San x F!Reader

tags: age gap, best friend’s dad, deep south, vacay in the mountains, southern accent(YUMMM), pet names (peaches, sweet pea, baby, etc.), teasing, dom san, fingering, oral(f!receiving), overstimulation, size kink, don’t get caught, san wants that cookie BAD, praise, BIG ARMS, headlock, reader is on birth control so he's INNIT...

wc: 8.6k

summary: Your best friend would not quit nagging you at joining her to go visit her family’s house in the mountains deep in the rural corners of Tennessee. Summer was here, some fresh air would be nice. Why not?

notes: a gift from me (raised in deep Tennessee) to you. Makes me miss home, but I get to visit this summer again so YIPPEE!!

tracklist- american teenager, she keeps me up, secret

You hadn’t seen a power line for miles. You might as well have been in heaven. Lying in the bed of your best friend's dusty taupe pick-up truck, the sun cast beautiful flowing masterpieces on your skin through the tall, looming forests of Fraser firs that coated the mountains like a blanket.

The air was chill and fresh, your ears still not used to the thinness, your hearing slightly muffled as the wind rushed past them. The sun was warm, and the air was comfortable, perfectly cool. The long, curving roads wound and turned seemingly endlessly. Around every corner was either a breathtaking view of the far countryside, tall green hills with vast acres of forest below that you would be bound to lose yourself in. Or vast, green fields with a couple of groups of brown spread about, which you could only assume were cows.

Your best friend was driving in the front seat, all windows lowered as “American Teenager” blasted from her little, busted-up radio. The sun caught her skin beautifully as one hand rested out the window and the other steered. She sang loudly and happily, you joining in from the back.

As the song played, you thought long and hard about the decision of coming out here with her. You and Arin had been together since freshman year in high school. She had been living with her grandma when you guys met, both city girls, it seemed.

Until you came over to her house for the first time, and her walls were littered with deer heads and fishing poles. She laughed at your reaction, excited to tell you all about her family and her lifestyle. About how she grew up deep in the rural south before moving closer to the big cities to help pursue better education and better job opportunities.

She lived with her grandma in the city, while her divorced parents remained in the countryside, with separate housing. Her mom lived in a modest trailer off a dirt road closer to the north, while her dad lived in a rustic, wooden house deep in the Smokies. 

Years later, both of you in your sophomore years of University, she had brought up the idea that to kick off summer break, you should come with her on her annual visit to her dad's.

You knew next to nothing about her father, only that he lived in the woods and was divorced. She never really talked about her parents, and you never chose to pry.

Ecstatic, to say the least, were you to hear that she wanted to bring you along. You always connected well with nature, and a week's trip into the woods would probably cure every little thing bothering you in an instant.

So here you were, 4 hours into the trip, 2 hours left as you both cruised through the mountains, literally never feeling freer in your life. 

Your lungs felt cleaner, and your bones felt like they were melting into your skin as you deflated in the truck bed, falling deep into a nap as your friend continued driving home, knowing the roads with the back of her hand.

The truck rumbling and your speed decreasing awoke you from your nap. You rose, stretching and yawning, cursing yourself for sleeping on such a bumpy surface. When you took in your surroundings, you noticed you weren't on the road anymore. Instead, you were deep in the forest, and every surrounding area was just tall, looming trees. The birds sang and the wind whistled, the sun barely peeking through the green canopy of leaves way above. The truck was slowly climbing up a narrow dirt road, even deeper into the mouth of trees.

“Are we almost there, Arin?” You continued to glance around, enamoured by the pure beauty and richness of where you were right now. 

“Just about a mile more and we’ll be up the driveway.” You snorted, and she sighed, expecting this. 

“This is the driveway? Bitch this is not real, you live in Narnia.” Arin laughed, waving her hand, urging you to crawl back through the back window into the backseat so she could talk to you better. 

Shimmying back in the window, you lay on your stomach in the back seat. “It is really beautiful out here, though, Arin.” You smiled and she smiled back, a bright, radiant one.

“Yeah, I missed it. But after a couple of days, I'll get sick of getting bit up by bugs and all the coyotes and their incessant howling.” She groaned and shrugged.

“But it's always nice to see my dad. He’s a super, like, handy guy, always fixin’ stuff and whatnot. I gotta ask him to look at my truck because it’s been making that weird scraping sound lately. I know he could fix it no ish.” You listened as she talked, continuing to talk about her childhood. Spew random facts about the local wildlife, and the best scenic spots as well.

Before long, a clearing appeared, in the middle of which was the most beautiful, quaint cabin. Fragrant cedar wood with black trimming; the house also had a decent-sized fire pit, close to the edge of the clearing where the forest swallowed everything up again.

It was so strange, the presence the cabin seemed to have. It was the center of attention, oddly out of place, but it still felt like it belonged. Like the forest accepts it as part of it. Maybe you were overanalyzing things, but you couldn’t deny how beautiful the whole scene was.

“Alright, and here we are.” Stopping the truck beside another, taller, and newer truck, she shifted into park and took out the key. She turned to you and grabbed your hands in hers. “Okay, so, let's get the luggage, I don't know where my dad is right now–” she stopped to mull and try to think if she might have a clue.

“He could be sleeping, I don’t know. But I know he’s here because his truck is here. I thought he would be out front to greet us like he said… guess not.” She shrugged and let go, opening her door and walking to the truck bed. You followed suit, stepping out onto the gravel with a satisfying crunch. You and Arin began sorting through luggage, trading bags and freaking out when you both realized you left the cooler back on campus. 

“Fuck!” Arin yelled at the sky in utter defeat. “We had to leave the whole cooler. I had moonshine peaches in there.” You sigh, upset about the cooler, consoling your friend. You rubbed her back in soothing circles as she dramatically let her forehead fall against the truck bed.

Before you could open your mouth to say anything, a thick, strong arm snaked around your waist and gripped you tight, fingers digging into your stomach. You were lifted into the air, your back pressed against a firm, built chest, before a scream started to bubble up. Arin screamed at the same time as you, feet also off the ground, with an arm around her waist, too.

“Gotcha.” A teasing voice sounded from behind you two, you were set down in a split second as Arin broke into a big smile and ran to hug the person.

“Dad! What the hell you scared the shit out of us.” You stood by the truck and watched as the two of them hugged.

Oh god.

Oh my god.

Yeah, this was insane.

Her dad was insanely hot. Sporting a black compression tank top that traced every curve and dip on muscle from his chest to his abdomen, dark blue jeans that hugged his thick thighs, and a beige pair of chaps. He had an orange and black flannel tied around his waist and a sturdy pair of cowboy boots on him. And don't even get started with his face.

Plush lips, defined nose, eyes like a hawk. His black hair was tousled, strands falling over his forehead, and a clear pair of glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. His large, meaty arms wrapped Arin tightly in a hug before turning to you and smiling. He had that same radiant smile his daughter had. His pretty eyes crinkled as he laughed at your expression.

He reached forward and rubbed your upper arm apologetically. “I’m sorry for scarin’ you darlin’.” The pet name made the neurons in your brain go haywire as he stepped closer to you, his arms coming up and around to envelop you in a hug next.

His arms flexed as they closed around your waist, hand locking at your hips. Instinctively, your hands came up and wrapped around the back of his neck. A rather intimate hug that was over before it even began.

“I can't believe this is my first time meetin’ you, peaches. You’re all Arin ever talks about whenever she comes down and sees me. Makes me think she misses you more than her old man.” He pouts playfully, looking at Arin, who was rolling her eyes, then looking back at you. He smiled and leaned down to half whisper in your ears.

“See-” he pointed a thumb behind him at her. “She doesn’t even love me.” Arin stomped over and playfully pushed her dad away from you, picking up your luggage and walking away.

“Dad, stop being a baby and help us make a mess of your house with all our stuff.” You started picking up some luggage, and just as you went to reach for the last bag, Arin’s dad grabbed it. You looked up and locked eyes with him, seeming like he was already looking at you before.

He smiled at you again, warm and welcoming. “Mr. Choi.” You forced the words out of your mouth, trying not to trip over them. “It's nice to meet you, thank you for letting me stay.”

San waved a hand at you and scoffed like it was no big deal. “You are more than welcome, c'mon now. My daughter has never been happier since becomin’ friends with you. You’re doin’ me a favor by not sending her home to me all angsty and irritated. And please, call me San. No need to be so polite with me, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly, taking every inch of your willpower to look anywhere but his arms, holding the suitcase like it weighed nothing. Arin came back out with a new pep in her step as she wrapped her arm around yours and began leading you away. “Quit holding her up, now I have to show her around.” 

“Bye, honey, love you too.” He waves to his daughter.

 “See you soon, peaches!” he calls to you. You quirked your head around to look at him while Arin led you away, catching him staring you down intently just as you turned the corner into the doorway.

When he's out of sight, you turn to your best friend, trying to calm your racing heart. “Peaches? Is he serious, Arin?” She shrugged. like it was no big deal, leading you down the hallway to a set of bedrooms.

“I don’t know (Name), he just has nicknames for everyone, he always calls you that.”

After a couple of hours of unpacking and getting settled, you and Arin were sitting on the living room couch, cuddled into each other, reading your respective “assigned books” for the summer. You both were readers and were eager to reach a 50-book goal by the end of the summer. So you guys pick books for each other and read them together.

The fireplace crackled, and a warm, calming atmosphere descended on the room, nearly lulling you to sleep. You hadn’t seen Mr. Choi since meeting him outside earlier that day. You wanted to ask Arin where he went, but you thought she would think you were weird for wanting to keep tabs on her dad. So you just didn’t say anything.

But you must have been thinking about it too hard because a minute later, Mr. Choi walks into the living room.

“Arin, honey, will you go start up the bonfire for me, please? I wanna show (Name) here down to the lake.” Your eyes widened and stared at Arin pleadingly not to leave you by yourself, but she had already stood up and began making her way towards the fire pit excitedly. 

“Oooh! You’re gonna have so much fun out here with us. Go with him, it's so nice. I'll catch up when I’m all done.” And she disappeared. You turned to her dad, a nervous smile on your face. He looked completely relaxed, studying your anxious body language carefully, holding eye contact for just a second too long. But he suddenly turned around and began walking to the front door.

“Cmon, follow me.” You hesitated for a second before finding your feet again and walking fast to catch up with him.

It was warm outside, the sun in the last stages of a sunset, the sky a deep blue merging with vibrant oranges. Fireflies danced around the air in a light show of yellow deep within the forest. The wind rushed by silently, and the trees swayed in response to its whispers.

San wordlessly led you down the driveway a bit until he turned onto a small and obscure dirt path that led into the woods. The woods were silent but also so full of life. You felt as if you whispered something everyone and everything within a mile would hear.

But the toads were croaking, and the cicadas were singing in a way that could lull you to sleep again. It was a lot darker now that you had strayed from the house, the only light coming from the sliver of sun left through the canopy.

San stuck close to your side, careful not to lose you. He still hadn’t said a word, and it was beginning to unnerve you a little.

After a little more trekking, you came to a small lamppost that signifies the end of the path, and further past, you noticed a boat tied to a pier and one of the most gorgeous little lakes you had ever seen. Surrounded by tight walls of tall, dark trees, it stood still, and only the slight sloshing of water could be heard.

“Woah.” You walked past San and onto the pier, taking in the view before you. “This is doing more for me than any ibuprofen I've ever tried.”

That gets a heart laugh out of him, a handsome one at that. He's walked up closer behind you as you continue to gaze at the lake.

“Y’know I reckon it’s perfect weather to go swimming in, whaddya say?” Your eyebrows raise as you turn to see San staring at you with a sly smile and a teasing look in his eyes.

You immediately know what's coming. Quickly, you zip your body around and position yourself behind him. His gaze and his body follow you just as fast.

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, nervous giggles bubbling out as you speak, and genuine adrenaline rushes through your veins. San stayed put and didn't move, his shoulders hunched like he would pounce at any moment, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he kept his eyes locked on yours.

“Don’t dare what, sweet pea? What am I going to do?” The smile on your face was impossible to keep down as your heart raced.

“It's gonna be cold!” You squealed as he suddenly jerked forward like he was going to get you. He chuckled and suddenly relaxed his body. He stood up straight and put his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright, you can stop givin’ that look now I ‘m not gonna do it.” He smiled and backed away from you slowly, your eyes narrowed, hesitating to turn back and look at the lake again.

“If I turn around and you–” San leans his head forward and makes a stupid, confused face, pointing at himself as if to ask, “who me?”

“--yes, you. I’ll kill you.” He crossed his big, strong, thick arms across his chest and stared at you with an eyebrow raised in a challenge. But he quickly switched to playful intrigue when he caught the way your eye flicked down to his biceps and glued onto them for just a second too long.

You locked eyes with him again and stared for a good minute before you slowly turned back around to the lake. There was no sound of movement behind you. Maybe he really was done playing games. You turned around to give him shit about his behavior but he wasn't there anymore. Confused, you wondered if he jumped in or went back to the cabin.

You turned back around to the lake only to come face to face with none other than San himself. He had bent down so your noses were brushing, and he smiled before picking you up bride style and falling backward into the water with you in his arms.

Before you could scream, you had fallen in the water, wrapped in San’s arms. When you both emerged from under the water, you were both laughing hysterically. Splashing at each other and trying to swim back to land.

“Is this how you treat all your guests, Mr. Choi?” You panted as you lifted yourself onto the edge of the pier, legs dangling off the edge as you sat facing the lake. San remained in the water, swimming to float in front of where you sat, looking up at you.

His hair and his tank top were now soaking wet, and the gold rays of the sun shone off his damp skin beautifully. You were staring, and he had noticed.

San swam closer, now directly in front of your legs. The toads croaked louder, and owls began calling into the deep forest. You craned your neck down to give him your full attention, your feet swung back and forth in the water, tracing patterns in the lake.

San watched you for a moment, This was the most relaxed you had been since arriving on the property. The sun slowly began to sink behind the mountains in the distance, and a chill wind bit at your skin as the sky faded into hues of blues and orange.

“My little girl’s got herself a real pretty friend dun’ she?” His large hands clasped around each of your ankles, tugging teasingly like he’d pull you in. Your breath hitches at the warmth of his hands around your cold, wet legs.

“Mr. Choi-” He laughed annoyedly, akin to frustration as his last name slipped from your lips yet again.

“C’mon, baby, what did I tell you?” You quirked an eyebrow in question, then he yanked you down back into the water. But instead of letting you sink, he kept one arm firm around your waist while the other held your shoulder. Your faces were inches apart, and he gazed into your eyes, not even blinking.

“You can’t seem to remember my name. Let's practice, okay?” His voice lowered to a whisper, with his chest pressed to your own, you could feel the rumble in your body from his words. The hand on your shoulder moved to your collarbones, drifting gently in barely there touches. Up the side of your neck, across your cheek until his thumb was on your bottom lip, pulling down slightly as he admired the plumpness.

“My name is San,” he mumbled, moving to trace the tip of his nose up and down the side of your throat. “Repeat it after me, peaches.” He mumbles in your ear, smirking against the shell when he feels you jolt. 

“S-San..” You tried to say it steadily, but your voice trembled just slightly. Of course, he caught it.

He breathed in deeply and smiled before moving his lips right in front of yours, hovering right above them, so close that a gust of wind could close the gap between them.

“I love how you say it, (Name).”He drawled lowly right against your lips.  It was the first time he had ever said your actual name around you, and you couldn’t deny the way he basically moaned around it had your heart racing. “You seem scared, babydoll, don't tell me you’re scared o' me?” His eyes lock with yours in an intense staredown, lids narrowed with his lips stuck out in a faux pout.

Your hands shot out and gripped the straps of his tank top in each hand to hold yourself steady. He smelled so good, and the slow, condescending tone of his whispers was enough to make you a little dizzy.

“‘M not scared…” You whispered, gnawing at your bottom lip nervously, the tangy taste of blood flooding your tongue.

San held his mouth open right above your own, the thin layer of skin only slightly brushing, tickling almost. His breathing was shaky, and his eyes darted all over your face quickly like he was chasing a laser on it. His arm around your waist squeezed like he was restraining himself, his forehead resting against your own, and his hand cradling your jaw like it was sacred.

His brows knitted in frustration in the most pitiful expression when his eyes roved all over you, your body pressed to his, and the adorable “please” look in your eyes. “Mmm wanna kiss ya’ so bad,” San whined so quietly it was like he was talking to himself.

“Wanna touch you, taste you….” San’s chest hurt. He felt like such a sick guy, wanting his daughter's best friend as badly as he did. Every story he heard of you from his daughter painted you as such a sweetheart, and here you were in front of him finally, and oh…

There was no way San was letting you leave after this trip without him getting his hands on you.

“Wanna thank you for being so good to my daughter.” The smile on his lips contradicted his words. Like his body knew that the lie he just told was ridiculous. This had nothing to do with Arin. And he knew that. He wanted you for you. He wanted you for himself. Even if that makes him a bad, bad man.

You whimpered, you wanted to kiss him, but that means the line would officially be crossed, and there would be no going back. Your lashes fluttered, and his chest rose and fell, his hands came up, and his calloused fingers traced feather-light patterns on the back of your neck.

But before anything could happen, you could hear your name being called in the distance. “(Name)! Dad! Bonfire’s good to go!” 

Quickly, you and San separated with the speed of opposing magnets. You scrambled onto the pier as San stayed in the water, laughing at your frantic attempt to get back on land.

You sneered at him and stood up as your friend ran onto the pier. She saw how soaked to the bone you were and scowled. “Dad, did you push her in? He always does this shit…” he walked over and stared down her dad who was oh so innocently climbing back onto the dock.

“Nope, she got scared and fell into herself. Honest. I think she’s just a little jumpy.” You wanted to kick him, how did he act so innocent like he wasn’t the one who almost jumped your bones in the lake?

 Arin stuck her tongue out at her dad and turned to you. “Cmon y y'all will dry up by the bonfire really quick.”  You watched as she walked away, turning your head to see San’s eyes trained on you. The look in his eyes wasn't anything short of hot-blooded. You stayed for a moment, feeling like even if you moved an inch, he’d grab you and have his way.

His tongue clicked, and he nodded his head at the house, a grin creeping onto his lips. He walks past you as he speaks, a hand coming down and squeezing the side of your waist like an encouragement to move.

 “C’mon, sweetpea, snap out of it.”

You sat in a wooden rocking chair around the pit, the woods dark and looming all around, with the only source of light being the roaring fire in front of you. Arin sat to your left, rambling about a trip she took out of state with her sorority, scrolling through her endless gallery, insisting on telling a story for every picture.

Unfortunately, you were unable to focus. The fire dried all the lake water from your body, but not the wetness between your thighs. Your skin burned, and as you flicked your eyes over to San, who sat directly across from you two behind the fire.

As Arin talked, San’s eyes stayed locked on you and you alone. A stare hotter than the fire itself. Anytime Arin looked up from her phone, San’s eyes switched over and gave her his full attention. But every time she looked elsewhere, his eyes were all over you.

Tracing up your legs, staring at your tummy, up your torso, back onto your eyes. This was too much. He literally would not stop staring. It was taking every ounce of self control San had to not jump up and snatch you up, drag you beyond the tree line, and fuck you on the forest floor untl you were crying from overstimulation. All he wanted to do was play with you. Get his big, rough hands on your soft, pliant body. To have you writhing and bending at his will on his sheets and putting every orgasm you’ve ever had to shame.

If anyone needed to snap out of it, it was San. His fingers twitched as he forced himself to stay still. He found it so cute, the way you refused to look at him too long, or you’d get overwhelmed, thighs shifting in your seat, and your hands playing with the string on your shorts.

This went on for what felt like forever, San continuing to tease you when you looked at him, whether that be him playing with his big hands, measuring his fingers with his eyes locked on yours. Or playing with his belt buckle, the metal clink was quiet against the ambience of the forest, but loud in your ears. Just when you decided you had had enough and wanted to go to bed, San suddenly stood, clapping his hands.

“Well, ladies, I will leave you to it. I’ve got shit to get done tomorrow so I will be heading to bed.” Arin immediately began to boo and mime tomato throwing at her dad.

“Old man!” She whispered, shouted. “Don't forget your Tuesday pills, Gramps.” San rolled his eyes and waved her off. “I’m sure you’ll understand one day, you young folk have got all that energy in ya. My battery runs out faster than yours.” Arin rolled her eyes in response, leaning over to whisper to you.

“Guy can’t even stay up past 9 pm, I'm worried (Name), he's already got half a foot in the grave.” You both burst into a fit of giggles, San hearing what his daughter had said.

“Now you know I am not that old. Plus, even if I'm a little up in years, I still got it.” Without missing a beat, he moved into an obnoxious pose, flexing his arms and tipping the cap on his head. “Ladies.” He flamboyantly chirped, smiling handsomely,

“Ugh, oh my god, Dad, whatever.” They laughed, the light atmosphere easing the tension around the fire.

“Alright, keep me up any longer and I'll nod off standing. I love you, honey.” he came over and planted a kiss on his daughter's head. Arin smiled and lovingly tapped his ankle with her foot. “Love you too, Dad, it's good to be home.” He began to walk away. 

 Arin did the unthinkable.

“Ahem, Dad… what about (Name)? Hmm? Not gonna tell her goodnight? Rude.” Your eyes widened as all attention was on you. The tension returned as your eyes locked with San’s again. His eyebrows raised in surprise at his daughter's remark, but quickly shifted into a lazy smile.

“Of course, how rude of me. So much for southern hospitality.” San walked over and reached his hand down, squeezed your shoulder, and placed a chaste kiss directly on your forehead. “Goodnight, peaches.” He stood, waved, and walked into the darkness back to the house.

He was totally doing this on purpose. Teasing you in front of Arin. It was like he enjoyed seeing you embarrassed. Your best friend never made a note or commented on his behavior, seemingly accustomed to it, as if this was just how he was. Really friendly.

You sat huddled next to Arin, enjoying the sounds of crickets and owls from deep within the wood, the wind blew the orange flames of fire every which way like a frantic dance. It wasn’t until late into the night that you both decided to retreat to bed. You both stood, Arin extinguished the fire, and you both began walking back to the house.

Walking in the front door, you shut and locked it behind you, discarding your shoes on the front porch. The front entrance was barely illuminated, just a candle mounted on the wall in the kitchen, the light spilling from around the corner into the foyer. It was silent, just the wind from outside muffled and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Arin walked down the hall, turning and making her way to the bedrooms. You followed close behind, almost unnerved by the unnatural stillness of the home.

Arin walked into the bedroom you two were sharing, turning on the lamp on the nightstand by the bed. You both began your respective night routines. Skincare, pajamas, medications.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching Arin wrap her hair in a silk wrap.

1 day down. 5 more to go. You almost asked Arin if she could take you back to the city so you could call an Uber home. You would say you were sick or that your mother slipped and fell back home. When really you just knew you would feel like the worst person on the planet if you lost your moral compass and fucked her dad.

When she finished, you stood and closed up the drawers and picked up anything off the floor. A far-off rumble of thunder groaned from outside, the wind picking up and swaying the tree leaves in a graceful dance. 

You glanced over at the nightstand, an alarm clock sat next to the lamp.

11:23.

Arin sat at the top of the bed, shimmying under the covers while you lay on the other side, closest to the nightstand. You looked over at her, genuinely happy that she had thought of you when she was planning her vacation home, but you sincerely wished she hadn’t.

Or did you?

Too much thinking for so late into the night.

You turned to look at her, a nearly apologetic look in your eyes. “Thank you again for taking me with you, Arin. It's so refreshing to get away from the city. My lungs feel cleaner already.” Arin smiled and lay down under the comforter with her phone on her chest. 

“Who else would I take silly. Thank you for being so cool around my dad. I know he can be a little much.” She smiled embarrassedly, shrugging her shoulders. Oh, she had no idea. You reassured her with a gentle punch to her stomach.

“He’s not any worse than you are.” Arin’s mouth fell in mock surprise at your teasing.

“You just wait until I’m awake enough to care.” She narrowed her eyes at you, turning around with a giggle to settle into the bed.  You turned your upper body to switch the lamp off, shrouding the bedroom in darkness.

“Goodnight, Arin.” You rubbed her shoulder lovingly, returning the gesture by squeezing your hand. “Night, Name.” The wind howled louder outside the cabin, another crackle of thunder boomed in the night, the sky opened, and the rain began to fall, fat droplets hitting the roof like a soothing white noise. 

The alarm clock glowed an eerie, aggressive red on the nightstand.

2:13.

Arin slept soundly beside you, a loud crack of lightning that cast a bright white light about the room. Shadows splayed on the wall, and the house shook slightly. Your throat was so dry if you tried to take a breath, you would for sure choke. You needed something to drink.

Standing from the bed quietly, careful not to wake her up, you draped the comforter back over her and smoothed over your spot.

In nothing but a black tank top and athletic shorts, you stood by the entrance to your room, peering down the dark, looming hallway that led to the kitchen. The lone light in the kitchen cast shadows surrounded by warm, glowing light. The sound of the AC buzzing faintly in the background as the rain beat against the roof and windows. Silently shutting the door behind you, you made your way down the hall with one mission. A glass of water and a breather.

You walked to the kitchen sink, grabbing a cup out of the cabinet and pouring yourself a glass. You tipped your head back and chugged the glass, the cold water soothing your headache and chilling your insides. With a deep sigh, you set the glass on the counter. You rubbed your eyes, sleep overtaking you again as a yawn bubbled up.

You looked out the window that was placed above the sink. The outside world was dark, the rain pattering against the glass, and the droplets racing down the pane. The wind blew branches from trees around the perimeter of the house, causing them to beat against the walls and windows. A cacophony of different sounds that melded together to harmonize into a sleep-lulling white noise.  

“Hey, peaches…” Soft lips pressed against the shell of your ear as the smell of pine and vanilla engulfed your senses, an arm wrapped around your waist while the other gripped the sink, caging you against the counter. A broad chest pressed against the back of your head as the hand around your waist pressed its fingertips into your lower abdomen. 

San kept his voice quiet, like you were in a bubble, and the slightest noise too loud could burst it. “What’re you doin’ up so late, babydoll? Can’t sleep?” he whispered it teasingly, like he was making fun of you in your ear.

You craned your neck back to shoot him a glare. His eyebrows raised at your expression, before he relaxed at the promise that you’re about to give him a challenge. You looked back at the window in front of the sink. “I’m sick of all your teasing, Mr. Choi. I can’t tell-” the arm gripping the sink came forward and curled before pressing against and around your throat, gentle enough not to restrict airflow or hurt you, but just enough to warn you that he could if he wanted to

The hand holding your waist traced little circles on your abdomen, pressing down every now and then before slowly grazing down further until it played with the strings on your shorts. Twirling them around his thick, rough fingers.

Your head spun at his sudden decision to put you in a headlock, your eyes whipped down, and all you could see was the bulky muscle of his forearm curled around your throat so possessively, you almost let your knees buckle underneath you. His lips oh so gently nipped at the lobe of your ear, kissing down your neck and back up again.

“Aww, baby’s tired of the teasing?” His hand slipped past the waistband of your shorts, dancing over the hem of your underwear. “Want me to just ruin you already, huh? Is that what you want, sweetpea?” His fingers slipped past the waistband of your underwear, tugging away from your skin before letting it snap back against your flesh with a quiet pop. 

You nod quicker than you would have liked to, your body answering before your brain could rationalize your thinking. He laughed under his breath at your eagerness, then used the hand from the arm around your neck to grip your hair in his fist. He held it, guiding your neck to angle downward so your lips were pressed against his bicep.

“Bite down for me, baby.” You hesitated for a moment before opening your mouth, closing your teeth around a spot on the muscle, instinctively running your tongue along the spot to soothe it. San winced, barely, before dipping his fingers past the waistband of your underwear and cupping his hand around your pussy.

“Gotta keep you quiet, sweetheart. Don’t need your pretty little noises being heard. Be good for me and keep it down, and I’ll make you feel so good.” 

You furrowed your brows and focused on the feeling of his finger dragging up between your folds, stopping to massage your clit in slow, sensual circles. Your jaw tightened its grip on his arm, the muscle flexing in response to the stimulation. 

San dragged his finger back down, slipping his middle and ring finger inside of you, your thighs squeezing around his wrist in response as his arm slightly tightened around your neck. You moaned into his arm, your own hands coming up and gripping the arm snaked in your shorts and subtly but not so subtly ground your clit against his wrist as he fucked his fingers into you, working you open and trying to perfectly hit that breathtaking spot inside you.

Deep in your cunt his fingers curled just perfectly, grazing your g-spot and causing a full body shiver to travel through you as your clit bumped the palm of his hand simultaneously. 

San pressed his open mouth against your cheek, mocking your heavy breathing and whining teasingly with his own voice, smiling when you clenched around his fingers. His eyebrows knitted to copy your pleasure ridden face. God if he only had a mirror in front of you both right now.

“Nasty, nasty girl.” He clicked his tongue, pressing the pads of his fingers against that spongy spot inside of you, rubbing in pressurized circles. Your voice began to slip, the feeling too intense, toes curling as you drooled all over his bicep.

“San… oh my god, so good…” your head lolled back, no longer bothering to silence yourself as the rain outside grew so heavy it felt like the house was encased in TV static. 

San groaned, moving his arm around your throat and gripping your neck with his hand. He angled your head up and leaned his head down. Tracing his lips against yours as he continued to work further to your orgasm with his fingers, his lips slotted with yours desperately. You let yourself whimper and cry into his mouth, his tongue sliding down your throat and drinking your sounds up happily. He nibbled on your bottom lip, grinding his palm against your clit and massaging your spot harder.

“That's it. Don’t worry about anything else. Focus on that feeling. Focus on me.” His thumb rubbed into the side of your throat soothingly. A fire flickered in his eyes when he looked into yours and watched the way you practically melted at the look he gave you. And that was all he needed before he whipped you around to face him, slipping his fingers out of you.

He ripped your shorts and underwear down and off your legs, tossing them somewhere into the darkness of the kitchen. His arms hooked under your thighs and lifted you up… up.. Until your legs were on his shoulder. He had you high up on the wall, back pressed against the cold wall. His big hands sank into your plush thighs as he held them on his shoulders, his face snug between your legs. He was standing… holding you on his shoulders like you weighed nothing.

You went rigid for a moment, for being so high up, and San between your thighs. It all happened so quickly.

His hot breath was clouding your cunt, the warm feeling causing your thighs to shiver and your eyes to roll in anticipation. His hands squeezed your thighs tightly in warning, his eyes meeting yours for a second.

“Quiet. I just need to taste you, just once… one time.” He buried his face in your soaked cunt, his nose bumping against your clit and his tongue sucking like a fucking man starved. Like he was drinking you.

Your whimpered crackled from your chest in no time, your hands flying to his hair to get a grip so you wouldn't fall off his goddamn shoulders. “Sannie.. Nghmm… can’t stay hah.. Quiet..” The noises were obscene.

The slurping and the wet open-mouth kisses. He would close his plush lips around your clit and suck like his life depended on it, which nearly pushed you over the edge in seconds. You were dripping down his chin, drops of your slick, and his saliva fell onto his tank top. Just filthy.

He ground deep into your cunt, shaking his head side to side feeling your body jolt every time his nose grazed your clit. “Gonna come for me, peaches?” he whined into you. “c’mon, you can do it. Give it to me, I need it… please. Please, baby, please.” Your fingers tightened their grip on his hair as you started to feel yourself falling apart, a breathless and silent “cumming” being mouthed by your wet lips.

“Yes. Yes,” he moaned into you like a mantra, coaxing you through your orgasm and helping you come down. San quickly let your body drop so that now your legs were wrapped around his waist. He carried you hurriedly through the living room, down the hall, and into his room, right across from Arin’s. His room was dark, the only light coming from his window when the sky lit up with lightning. 

He laid you on the edge of his bed, ripping off his tank top and lifting your legs up so your ankles rested on his shoulder. The view was gut-wrenching. His tall, rippling body. He looked so smooth, the ridges in his abs and his pecs so perfectly shadowed, it was like he was painted. His arms held your leg open on and his shoulder as he craned his neck to the side and looked you over like he wanted to snap you in half.

His legs hidden below the bed, but the sight of his hot, thick cock laying on your stomach nearly had you reeling. The pink tip twitched against your belly button as San did everything in his power not to start humping himself against your tummy.

One hand traced up your stomach lightly, around the peaks of your nipples, up your neck, and up against your lips. 

“Open.” San commanded, tapping his fingers against your cheek. You complied, feeling as he slipped his fingers in your mouth onto your tongue, pressing down.

 He leans forward, his chest grazing yours as he rests his forehead against yours. He guided his hips backward and angled the tip of his cock against your slick cunt.

“Shhh,” he whispered against your skin, pressing wet kisses on your ear. With the patience that San didn't wholeheartedly believe he had, he pushed himself inside of you. He pulled back to get a better look at him sliding in, but he paused, transfixed,

He stared at where you two connected, your cunt hugging him for dear life. He twitched inside of you before inching in more, opening his mouth to let out a low, perverted groan.

“She's takin’ me so well, sweetheart. Swallowing me up is so good…” His fingers curled down into your mouth when he bottomed out inside of you. His tip is sitting heavy right against your spot. Your eyes rolled, and you could clench at the feeling of him twitching in you.

San winced and brought a hand to grip your right hip, his thumb spreading over your stomach to your belly button and kneading your tummy gently while he held your hips down against the bed, He bit his bottom lip, eyes flicking up to yours in desperation before moving back down and locking his gaze back on your pretty pussy,

“Fuck, dont move babydoll. I’ll cum…. Just.. mmmf… be still. Let me…” he stayed still for a second, before pulling his hips back and moaning out loud and the slick sound your pussy made. He slid back until his tip was the only thing inside of you, before rolling his hips and burying himself back in you deeeeepp.

Your whole body twitched and your hands came up to grip the wrist of his hand that was currently fucking your mouth with his fingers. Every roll of his hips had your whole body shuddering in pleasure, and still his eyes stayed glued at your cunt. He was mesmerized by the movement, watching his own abs roll as your stomach slightly bulged every time he pushed back inside. In and out, in and out…

San forced himself to rip his eyes away from where he pistoned inside of you. He lolled his head back and squeezed your waist even tighter, slipping his fingers out of your mouth and placing his hand on the other hip. He dragged your body up and down on his dick dropping his head back to stare at your body so pliant and willing for him.

The hands on your hips gripped you with iron strength, as San used your body as a fleshlight, fucking your cunt down on his cock, You took the sight before you in, San completely fucked out, pussydrunk.

His skin glistened from the heat of your bodies, stray strands of hair stuck to his forehead and covered his eyes, and the tip of his tongue poked past his lips as he focused completely on getting you where you needed to be. His abdomen rolled into yours so smoothly it's like he was dancing, his whole body shoving itself deeper into you, closer to your body.

He pushed your legs down so that your knees were bent and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. His cock sank impossibly deeper inside of you, pulling a deep guttural groan from you.

Quickly, San pressed his lips back on yours, swallowing your cries with his mouth and licking soothing patterns into your mouth. He was so deep in your guts it felt like he was touching your ribcage, the way his body covered yours underneath him, his hands holding your legs up.

“Hush, baby, you’re being so loud. Be a good girl for me and hold it in, please, mkay? You can do it. Take it deeper, you can do it, I know you can.” He pistoned his cock into you, his head roughly kissing that spot deep in your tummy that had your back arching and your breathing staggering.

The living room was hot, and San’s body engulfed yours like you were all his. He rested his forehead against yours and his eyes roved down your body arriving back down to where his cock slipped in and out of you so smoothly. So deep and so determined. His eyes remained glued to the sight once again. His head swam with all the nasty things he wanted to tell you. To do to you.

Obsessed was an understatement, he adored watching himself slip in and out of you, the way you sucked him in so eagerly, the way your cunt dripped for him, a thin creamy ring around the base of his cock.

He locked eyes with you again, his hand squeezing around your throat, the spots of your peripheral vision slightly blinking out as his other hand came down and slowly rubbed slow circles on your clit.

San bit his bottom lip, watching as your face contorted into a cock drunk expression, not even caring to keep yourself quiet as he continued rubbing deliberate circles on your sensitive clit.

His hand cupped around your mouth and pressed down, his eyes boring into yours in a silent warning.

“What happened, baby? You were doing so well keeping it down.” He pouted mockingly at your pathetic attempts at silencing your moans. “Can’t take it after all, peaches?” A particularly targeted thrust knocked the wind from your lungs for a second, nearly pushing you into your orgasm.

His mouth lowered to your throat, kissing up your neck before landing by your ear.

“Can I cum inside you pretty baby please? Please?” He groaned, biting the shell of your ear lightly, continuing to fuck you into his mattress like he needed you to breathe.

He moved his hand away from your mouth, allowing you to answer.

“Im- ngh ah! On the p-pill. Oh, San, yes, yes, please inside, please!” Before you got too loud, San pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans in lingering, deep kisses. Slow and sloppy, his eyes rolled back as his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Yes, c’mon..” He sighed into your mouth, slowing his hips and aiming directly for that stomach-wrenching spot inside of you, deliberately rolling his hips to repeatedly and heavily press against it. So quick it was unbelievable, your orgasm crept up your spine and curled around your stomach.

“Right there, right there, right there…” You prayed into his mouth, eyebrows knitted in concentration. San laughed, sucking on your bottom lip as he moved the hand on your clit up to press his entire palm on your lower stomach.

“Right here?” He tilted his head as his eyes remained glued to your face, watching every single little change in your expressions, enamored, with a sinister smile on his flushed face. He pushed down, the pressure becoming too much as your body spasms for a split second, before the orgasm crashed into you.

San kissed you even deeper, trying his hardest to muffle the sounds that spilled from your pretty, swollen lips, his groans falling down your throat and nearly drowning out your own. His whole body twitched, and he finally let go, his hands gripping you so tight as he came so deep in your guts you felt him in your chest.

“Taking it all so well.” He pulled from your lips, his hips rolling gently to work you through your high. When your legs finally stopped shaking, he slipped out of you with slick, vile slowness, his eyes stayed glued as he watched his cock slip out of you, moaning quietly to himself when his tip popped out and his cum began seeping out of your cunt.

His eyes flicked up to you, splayed in his sheets, hair messy, drooling, chest heaving with exertion. So pretty for him. He crawled up the bed, coaxing you to lift your head on the pillow. He chuckled at your fucked out state. “When you can find your feet again, Bambi, we can go take a shower. I’m sure this old man did a number on you.”

You glared at him, his expression nothing short of goofy, pulling a smile from you. “Stupid.” You mumbled. San smiled back, hands reached forward and gripped the sides of your face, pulling you into a slow, deep kiss. He pulled back with a wet pop.

“Smile all pretty like that and ‘m just gonna have to fuck you again, sweetpea.”

Your heart stuttered before it dropped, suddenly remembering the predicament you were actually in. 1 day down. 5 more to go. Just how fucked were you.

[someonellly]

The Thing About Pretty Boys

❝ You’re convinced that pretty boy Seonghwa could never fuck anyone stupid. He decides to prove you wrong. ❞

PAIRING: park seonghwa x female reader

GENRE: friends to lovers au, smut

WORD COUNT: 4k

WARNINGS: pwp, repressed feelings, overuse of the word pretty (sorry not sorry), seonghwa is HUNG, cock drunk!reader, pussy drunk!seonghwa, mentions of anal, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple creampies, backshots, squirting, dumbification, possessiveness, breeding kink, overstimulation

A/N: this has been long overdue, and i hope you guys like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“There’s no way.”

Your incredulous snort makes Seonghwa pause. He whips his head in your direction, pretty frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. You keep laughing, keeling over until your loose nightshirt starts to hang off one of your shoulders. The way you’re falling over like he said something hilarious is starting to irritate him. Like really fucking bad.

When you finally stop laughing, you notice the deep scowl your friend is directing at you. Even as he's directing a scornful glare at you, he looks unfairly pretty. The thought makes you huff out one last weak laugh. “What? Don’t give me that look.”

His jaw flexes, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “You believed fucking Mingi when he said the same thing.”

Your nonchalant shrug makes Seonghwa’s eye twitch in annoyance. He’s not offended, not exactly. It’s just the slightest bit irritating that he’s literally in your room, on your bed, alone, and you still can’t think of him in a way he desperately wants you to.

“Because it’s obvious that Mingi knows what he’s doing. Like, you can tell he’s a beast in bed.”

“And what makes you think I’m not?”

It’s weird that he’s so insistent on getting you to believe him. Seonghwa usually doesn’t care about what anyone thinks since he claims to know himself the best, so other people’s opinions don’t really matter. Apparently, he isn’t too different from all the other guys you’ve met. It’s kind of cute.

“I just— Who cares?” You splutter, suddenly feeling flustered with how he’s staring at you so intently.

“Tell me why.”

You nearly recoil in shock at how assertive and dominant Seonghwa sounds. His tone and hard eyes makes something inside you flutter with desire. Taken aback by your own indecent reaction, you clear your throat and avert your eyes back to the paused sex scene out of a movie you can't remember the name of.

If you could go back in time and pick a different movie that hadn’t started this entire thing, you would.

“Fine.” You sigh, willing yourself to calm down. “I just think that most pretty boys aren’t able to fuck anyone stupid. That’s all—it’s nothing personal.”

Oh, but it is.

To Seonghwa, who had pictured you writhing and screaming from pleasure under him way too many times to be considered normal, it’s definitely personal.

“I could fuck you stupid.”

His words hang in the air heavily. You expect him to give you that pretty, nonchalant smile of his and tell you that he’s joking. But he doesn’t. In fact, Seonghwa is looking at you with an unmistakable heat and determination in his gaze that has you feeling like prey.

“Whatever.” You force yourself to choke out a laugh, mind already wandering to what it would be like to fuck such a pretty man.

Seonghwa seems unfazed by your dismissal. He stands up from your bed before kneeling at the edge in front of where you’re sitting. You let out a shocked yelp when he grabs your bare legs and yanks you toward him. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you like he’s going to devour you.

The heat coming from his hands and just having him nestled between your legs makes your cunt throb. It’s embarrassing how fast you’re getting turned on, but you blame it on the fact that it has everything to do that Seonghwa is just so damn pretty.

“H-Hwa.” You actually fucking whimper, sounding completely needy.

“Gonna let me prove it?” He smirks, hands gently caressing your thighs that are unconsciously spreading for him.

“Fine.” You try to sound like you aren’t already soaking, horny mess. “You have to hurry, though. Sannie’s gonna be back soon.”

Seonghwa nearly growls at the mention of your clingy roommate. He trails his hands up the soft skin of your thighs and grips the edges on your panties. You let out a scandalized gasp when he literally rips them off of you. He throws them over his shoulder before flipping up your oversized shirt and exposing your hot cunt to the air.

His groan makes you clench around nothing. Before you can say anything, Seonghwa yanks you forward and smashes his face into your wet pussy. Any and all coherent thoughts are quickly ejected from your mind. You let out a small moan when you feel your friend’s tongue split through your folds, tasting you for the first time.

“Fuck.” Seonghwa moans into your cunt. “I knew you would taste good.”

His words make your brain turn into literal mush because what the fuck? Had he been thinking about what it would be like to eat you out? The mere thought has more juices spilling out of you. Your body’s reaction only spurs Seonghwa on, his hands gripping your thighs tighter and pulling you further on his mouth.

You toss your head back with a moan. All you can feel is his tongue plunging deep inside you. Every time his nose bumps against your throbbing clit, it sends jolt of pleasure up your spine.

“S-Shit, Hwa.” You whimper, hands falling to his messy hair.

Seonghwa smirks into your pussy when you start to tug on his hair. He hums against your leaking hole before latching onto your swollen nub and suckling on it with a lewd slurping sound. Your cries of pleasure sound like music to his ears, and it makes him more determined to have you begging and crying for his cock. Seonghwa is sure your moans would sound even prettier when he’s actually splitting you open with his dick.

“So good.” You mewl as he keeps sucking on your aching bud. “K-Keep doing that.”

Seonghwa starts to plant sloppy kisses on your glistening folds before dragging his tongue up your slit. He repeats the action a few times before he sucks your puffy clit back into his mouth. The sight of your face twisting in pleasure is a sight he’ll never forget. To see the object of his fantasies writhing and shaking from pleasure has his cock straining in his pants, eager to be stuffed into your cunt.

You start to grind your pussy into his face as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. His ravenous movements are like that of a starved man, and soon you feel your abdomen tighten with the need to release.

“I-I think I’m gonna come.” You moan, surprised that he managed to get you so close to an orgasm in such a short amount of time.

Seonghwa groans into your sopping cunt. “Do it, baby. Come all over my tongue. Let me taste you.”

You gasp out his name as a wave of pleasure suddenly washes over you. The tight coil in your stomach snaps as your walls become impossibly tight. Your moan is loud and wanton as you squirt all over your friend’s face.

Seonghwa’s moan sounds animalistic as he presses his tongue flat against your entrance, collecting all your sweet juices and slurping you dry. He’s practically making out with your pussy until there’s none of your addicting cream left to lap up.

“Mhm, baby. You taste so fucking good.”

You’re a trembling mess as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs before standing up, your juices covering his chin. The sight of you all fucked out because of him, makes the desire in his gut get more intense.

“Sorry.” You huff out, mind a bit more clear when you see him licking his lips. “I-I’ve– that usually doesn’t happen.”

To be exact, it’s never happened.

“I’ll forgive you.” He sounds sweet as he starts to unbuckle his belt. Seonghwa pulls his shirt off before pulling his pants down until he’s left in only his underwear, impressive bulge standing out. “But only if you do it again—on my cock this time.”

You can’t be mad that he looks so smug because he’s just so fucking pretty. He becomes even more attractive after sliding his underwear off and letting his big cock slap against his lower abdomen. The large organ is intimidatingly long and thick as it throbs and leaks with precum. Your mouth waters, and you can’t be surprised that his cock is a pretty as he is.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to admire it for too long because Seonghwa grabs you and flips you around. You’re propped up on your elbows and knees to support your weight, large shirt bunching at your waist as he arches your back to the angle he wants.

Seonghwa licks his lips as he squeezes and caresses your ass, leaking cock throbbing at the pretty sight of you all ready to get fucked. This is way better than any of his fantasies, and he hopes that this is only the first time of many.

“Such a pretty ass. Maybe you’ll let me fuck it next time.” His sultry voice has you dripping in desperation. “But for now, let’s see how much you can handle, baby.”

A needy, pathetic mewl tumbles out of you as Seonghwa presses his oozing tip against your entrance. He rubs and taps it against your folds, enjoying how you’re desperately rutting your hips back. Just minutes ago you were adamant that he wasn’t capable of getting this sort of reaction.

Your mouth drops open in pleasure when he slowly eases his cock into you. “O-Oh, fuck.” Your moan is weak as your eyes slowly close.

Seonghwa looks down to where his fat cock is pushing into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your pretty cunt as his. The sight is mesmerising, and he can’t stop the deep moan he lets out from it. His cock throbs wildly as he finally bottoms out. You’re so hot and tight that he might actually blow his load before he even gets the chance to fuck you properly.

His cock is hitting your deepest spot, and you let out a wanton moan as you tightly grip your sheets. “Fuck me!”

A carnal desire takes over Seonghwa when he hears your needy cry. He’s never been able to deny you anything, and he doesn’t plan to start now. Immediately, he begins to pummel in and out of you, fucking your sopping cunt roughly. Obscene noises fill the room as his pelvis slams against your ass.

Seonghwa can’t take his eyes off your pretty little pussy and how it swallows his cock so perfectly. His heavy balls are being stained with your arousal as they slap against your puffy clit. He becomes more ravenous with every rough thrust.

“You’re already soaking my cock, baby. I fucking knew you wouldn’t be able to get enough.” He grunts as he grabs your hips, quickly growing obsessed with how you feel around him.

It's true, and you can't deny it. Not that you want to. His cock is stretching you out so good that you can’t think straight.

“So fucking good.” You mewl as you deepen your arch so he can fuck you deeper.

One of Seonghwa’s hands trails down your body to squeeze your ass while the other goes around your waist to rub your sensitive clit. He pounds into you harder, loving the cries and whimpers you’re letting out every time he fucks his cock into your juicy cunt. You’re throwing yourself back on him to meet his thrusts, loving how his big cock splits you open with every snap of his hips.

“Gonna ruin this sweet little pussy so only I fit.” Seonghwa growls, spanking your ass harshly.

His words make you clench on his cock and coat it with more of your cream. You whine and cry out for him, already feeling any thoughts that aren’t about his big dick being fucked out of you. His hips start to snap with a rough precision you claimed he wasn’t capable of, and you wonder how longer it’ll take him to realize that he already proved you wrong.

Seonghwa feels your cunt start to tighten around his cock like it doesn’t want to let go. With the way you’re starting to tremble, he can tell you’re close to falling apart. But he wants to see your face when you do. It’s the thing he’s wanted the most since he met you.

You cry out in protest when Seonghwa abruptly pulls out his hard cock of your pussy. Before you can beg him to put it back in, he’s flipping you on your back. He gently caresses your shaking thighs with a heated gaze. Then, he’s removing the big shirt you have on, dark eyes taking in every inch of your exposed body.

“Hwa.” You plead through a needy mewl. “Don’t tease.”

The look on your face makes his cock throb painfully. You look absolutely fucked out, and to think he hasn’t even made you come yet. Seonghwa licks his lips and teases your soaking entrance with his leaking tip. His smirk is deviant, but so hot that all you can do is buck your hips desperately. Unlike your initial thoughts, your friend doesn’t make you wait.

It’s satisfying how Seonghwa’s jaw snaps open as he watches your pretty pussy slowly get filled with his thick cock. The erotic sight drives him to start fucking into you again. He lets out a deep groan when he sees your cream coat his entire length as you squeeze him tighter than anyone ever has.

Pleasure consumes you and licks up your entire body as Seonghwa pounds his cock into your hot cunt. Your moans turn into loud cries that mix into the lewd squelching coming from where you two are connected when he presses your legs to your chest. The new position allows him to fuck into you deeper than before.

All coherent thoughts are slowly dissipating every time his cock pounds against your sweet spot. A carnal desire takes over and has you begging for more through broken whimpers. “Fuh-Fuck. Fill me up, Hwa.”

The moan Seonghwa lets out is as pretty as he is. Your wanton pleas trigger something primal inside of him, and he feels himself going feral at the thought of breeding you.

“You want my cum, baby?” He coos sweetly, heavy balls slapping against your ass in sync with your wanton moans.

It’s embarrassing how fast you nod, back arching as you feel a wave of pleasure start to consume you. His cock is throbbing inside you, and all you can think about is milking him for all that he’s worth. “Want it so bad!”

“Fuck.” Seonghwa sucks in a sharp breath. “Pretty little pussy’s so tight for me.”

Your filthy moans are quickly stifled when Seonghwa bends down to kiss you. His movements are passionate and desperate, teeth tugging at your bottom lips. It feels like your brain has turned into static with all the euphoric sensations consuming you. All you can focus on is his cock splitting you open and the sounds of your skin slapping against his.

When Seonghwa pulls back, he maintains eye contact. As you stare into his eyes, you can see that they’re filled with an emotion that goes beyond lust and arousal. It makes your heart pound for an entirely different reason. His gentle stare is a great contrast to the rough snap of his hips.

That affectionate look is all it takes for you to squirt all over your friend once again. Your cry is loud as you cover his abdomen with your orgasm.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Make a mess all over me.” Seonghwa moans as he watches you go dumb on his cock.

The sight of your pretty face slack with pleasure has him fucking into your cervix savagely. Your cunt is gripping his cock so tightly that it doesn’t take long for him to release his thick load inside you. His thrusts grow sloppy as he starts to fill you with ropes of cum. Your soppy cunt is overflowing with so much of his seed that it bubbles around the base of his cock and leaks down to your ass—a filthy sight Seonghwa will never forget.

You’re both panting as he slowly lets go of your legs. Seonghwa watches you carefully, but doesn’t make a move to pull out of you. He wants to keep you plugged and full of his cum, and by how you slowly wrap your legs around his waist, it seems like you feel the same way.

When you come back to your senses, you nervously lick your lips when you see Seonghwa’s smirk. “What?”

“You’re a squirter?” His words sound teasing.

“N-No.” You pant out, unsure of how to tell him he’s the only one capable of evoking such a reaction from your body.

Apparently, your friend only sees this as another one of your challenges. He caresses your soft thighs as a challenging look crosses his face.

“Do it again.”

Seonghwa starts to move again, his aching cock sliding against your walls with ease as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. He unhooks your legs from his waist so he can place them on his shoulders. From this angle he can see your filthy cunt being split open on his thick cock.

“I can’t.” You manage to moan out, loving how his dick drags against your velvety walls with precision. “God, Hwa. I-It’s too much.”

“You say that, but your pretty little pussy keeps squeezing my cock like it doesn’t want to let go.” He says as his thumb starts to rub slow circles on your throbbing clit. “I’m sure you can squirt for me again if I give you another load, hm?”

Seonghwa’s smirk is cocky when he feels your cunt tighten around him again. He loves how you don’t deny it. In fact, you whine out a quiet more as he continues to fuck you. His thumb is still stimulating your puffy bud as his hips snap into you. Clearly, your friend is enjoying fucking you to the point of delirium. You can’t complain because you’re enjoying it just as much.

“Tight little cunt was made to take my cock.” He grunts as his eyes start to roll to the back of his head.

You can’t fathom how it feels like he knows your body more than you do. His cock keeps ramming against your g-spot, and all you can do is let out moans and mewls of pleasure. You’re sure it won’t be long until you come again.

A ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock and slowly drips down his balls and on to the sheets. Seonghwa knows you won’t ever be able to forget how good he’s fucked you, and he also knows that he’s potentially ruined you for any other man. Not that he would let you go after feeling your pussy.

“God, baby. Your sweet pussy’s already gonna make me come again.” Seonghwa groans, thrusts becoming tougher and sharper. “Gonna let me come inside again?”

“Yes!” You squeal, already gone dumb again. “Come inside me!”

The overstimulation has lewd and filthy sounds coming out of you, but you can’t help it. Especially not when you look down and see how his big cock is piercing into your tight cunt. You gasp and jolt as he continues to ram into you like you’re nothing more than a hole. Your legs start to tremble as your third orgasm abruptly hits you.

Like the two previous times, your toes curl as you uncontrollably squirt on his cock.

“Such a good girl.” Seonghwa praises you with his pretty smile. “Here’s your reward.”

He slams into you a few more time before he spills his thick seed inside you, filling you to the brim. Your eyes roll back as your pussy contracts around Seonghwa’s pulsing cock. The feeling of his hot cum filling your insides is so fucking good that all you can do is mewl his name weakly and pathetically. It feels like your mind is clouded with a euphoric haze preventing you from thinking straight.

Soon, Seonghwa pulls out of your creamy cunt, his cum dripping out of you and staining the sheets beneath you. His eyes darken at the sight of your sensitive folds covered with his seed. A low growl builds in his chest as he swoops down to smash his lips on to yours. You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss.

When he pulls away from you, he gives you another lascivious smirk. “We’re not done yet, baby.”

It shouldn’t excite you this much that he’s not done. You’re literally dripping with his cum, but you still want more. His hard, throbbing cock is resting against your sloppy pussy, and you start to gyrate your hips to get him to fuck you again. Maybe you’re already addicted, but it doesn’t matter because Seonghwa seems to feel the exact same way.

A quiet moan rips from your throat when he starts to fuck his cock between your messy lips. You cry out from the sensation, still sensitive from the other orgasms he’s ripped out of you. Slowly and teasingly, Seonghwa drags the tip of his fat cock down to your entrance, moaning when more of his cum seeps out of you. The sight is something he’ll never forget and always try to recreate.

The noises you let out are so cute and needy that they make his cock throb painfully. Seonghwa slowly eases into you for a third time, base of his heavy cock touching your core and big balls resting against your ass. Your pussy is pulsing around him as you leak with your mixed releases.

You can feel Seonghwa’s cock so deep inside you that it’s dizzying and almost comparible to being drunk. Vaguely, you think this is what it must be like to be cockdrunk.

“So fucking pretty. All for me.” Seonghwa groans hotly.

The breath is almost knocked out of you as he drags his dick back before ramming it back into the depths of your wet pussy. He begins to pound into you, the sound of skin on skin quickly filling the room.

Seonghwa stares down at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to memorize every aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he spears his big cock into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him, and he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

“S-Seonghwa!” You squeal, toes curling and limbs starting to tremble.

The familiar sensation gets worse as your friend continues to fuck into your guts, stroking your walls with his thick cock. He’s slamming into your sweet spot with a savage like pace that you know it won’t be long before you fall apart again.

“That’s it, baby. Cream all over my cock.” Seonghwa groans as you mewl at his filthy words.

As if his voice and words are a trigger, your body starts to react. His harsh thrusts make you start to convulse, effectively soaking his cock. As if it’s all you’re capable of giving him, you weakly come on his aching dick with a choked moan. Your tits are bouncing with every thrust, body twitching as Seonghwa roughly fucks you through your orgasm.

“Want your cum.” You mewl, and Seonghwa simply begins to fuck you quicker.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna pump you full until you’re leaking with my cum for days.” Seonghwa promises through possessive growls as he sloppily fucks into your soiled cunt.

Seonghwa suddenly stills deep inside your pussy, spilling his hot seed inside of you. Thick, white ropes of cum paint your walls until it leaves his cock dripping. He nearly slumps on top of you, but then he rolls over and onto his back, taking you with him. His cock stays inside you, keeping you plugged with his many loads.

“How are you feeling?” The soft voice you recognize is back as Seonghwa gently caresses your naked back.

You sigh into his neck, feeling completely sated. “Full.”

His pretty laugh makes you smile, and you can’t help but think that Mingi was right when he told you that thing about pretty boys.

[someonellly]

P☆RNSTAR - Park Seonghwa x Reader

Inspired by the song "P☆RNSTAR" by Nessa Barrett

"Show me who you are, pornstar"

Summary: You're a sharp, ambitious journalist who's assigned on a column about Park Seonghwa, the biggest star in the adult entertainment industry. He's a pornstar. But from the moment he turns his sharp eyes on you, everything shifts. He reads you too easily, teases you too precisely, unraveling every line you swore you wouldn’t cross. What begins as a probing interview turns into a game of control, tension, and exposed desires neither of you saw coming.

Word count: 17K

Genre: Pornstar!Seonghwa, reporter!reader, oneshot, smut

warnings: Seonghwa with reader (fem pronouns), oneshot, smut, fem reader (fem pronouns), masturbation, oral sex (f/m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, choking, spitting, unprotected sex, cum play, Hwa is very dominant (he's a pornstar, he knows what he's doing lmao), lmk if I missed anything!

The office smells like cheap coffee and stale ambition. You sit on the edge of a squeaky swivel chair, scrolling through the latest assignment email with a sinking feeling.

New project: “The Lives Behind the Screens” — a column digging into the unseen realities of internet celebrities and adult entertainers.

Great.

You thought journalism would be different. Real stories, real people. Not this digital voyeurism dressed up as “content.” But here you are, fresh out of college, with a degree gathering dust and a boss breathing down your neck.

Your editor’s voice plays in your head: “Next up? Park Seonghwa. The biggest star in the adult entertainment industry. Viral, iconic, untouchable. And you? You’re going to tell his story. Follow him. Watch him. Don’t fall for the fantasy.”

You click the link your editor attached and his face fills the screen, high-definition, impossibly symmetrical, built for the camera. Dark hair, parted just enough to frame his cheekbones like they were carved. A mouth that looks both sinful and soft, depending on the angle. Eyes like velvet, sharp, unreadable, expensive. He doesn’t smile in most of his photos. Doesn’t need to.

The headline reads: "The Pornstar Prince of the Internet."

You roll your eyes. But you keep scrolling.

Clips. Gifs. Edits. Reposts. Commentary threads that worship him like religion. "God-tier performance." "Unreal stamina." "He makes you feel like he’s looking right at you." You keep reading. Watching. Studying.

You find a clip, thirty seconds, muted, of him on a dimly lit set, shirt hanging off one shoulder, smirking at someone off-camera. He doesn’t blink much. He doesn’t need to. His body language is all ease, all control. Not arrogance. Not exactly. It’s more like... confidence that’s been sharpened into a weapon.

You don't look away.

Not because you’re turned on, not really. You’re... intrigued.

***

You show up ten minutes early, because you're not about to let a pornstar, no matter how famous, be the one waiting for you. The building is tucked between a yoga studio and a wellness café, the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling glass windows and minimalist signage that makes you feel underdressed just for breathing near it.

You expected neon lights. Maybe a couch no one should sit on. Definitely something sleazy.

But inside, it’s... clean.

Modern. Quiet. A tall woman with a tablet and black pumps greets you like you’re here for a boardroom pitch, not a profile piece on one of the internet’s most prolific sex symbols.

“You’re here for Mr. Park?”

Mr. Park.

You have to bite your tongue to stop from smirking.

“Yes. I’m with-”

“I know who you’re with,” she says politely, tapping something on her screen. “He’s finishing up a call. Can I get you anything while you wait?”

Water? Coffee? Champagne? You half expect the offer to end in something absurd like cocaine or compliments. But instead, you shake your head politely and she gestures toward a plush couch in a waiting area that looks more like a magazine launch office than a porn empire.

You sit, legs crossed, notebook in your lap, and glance around.

There are no posters. No half-naked shots. No trophies shaped like body parts. Just soft lighting, neutral palettes, and a low hum of quiet professionalism that makes your spine tighten.

You don’t like this.

You were ready for something raw. Tacky. Exposed. You were ready to roll your eyes and keep your emotional distance.

Instead, this place feels... corporate. Intentional. Curated.

You wonder if it’s a reflection or a deflection. You wonder what the perfectly polished floor is hiding.

“He’s ready for you now,” the assistant says, voice crisp but warm. “Down the hall. Last door on the right.”

You smooth your jacket, grip your notebook, and stand.

You walk down the hall, heels dull against the polished concrete, every surface too clean, too careful. The door is slightly ajar, the only one without a nameplate. That feels intentional.

You push it open.

And there he is.

Not behind a desk, not seated with polite formality, not postured for you, just leaning against the wide windowsill, half-turned to the city below, a cigarette balanced loosely between two fingers.

Dark hair, slightly tousled like he hasn’t bothered to tame it. His shirt, black, sheer, loose at the collar. A thin chain around his throat catches the light. And his nails, black polish, chipped at the edges. Purposefully imperfect. Like he’s above caring, or maybe it’s the only thing he cares about.

He glances over his shoulder when you step in. Doesn’t speak. Just watches you.

The eyes are worse than the photos. Darker. Sharper. Too direct. Like he��s already bored, already curious. Like he sees everything, and he’s trying to decide if you’re worth keeping his attention on.

He flicks ash into a small black tray on the ledge. There’s nothing else on it. No papers, no phone. Just him.

He finally speaks, voice low and warm with the edges of smoke, like it could wrap around your neck if you let it.

“So you’re the one who wants to figure me out.” It’s not a question. But his eyes don’t move from yours. They don’t flinch. “You’re not what I expected,” he says.

You offer the smallest shrug. “I could say the same.”

That earns the hint of a laugh. Just a breath, barely there.

He stubs out the cigarette, gestures toward the lone armchair behind you. “You can sit. I won’t bite.”

You don’t say anything. Just take the seat, notebook still closed in your lap. He stays standing. Of course he does. You can tell he likes the distance, the height, likes watching from above. Not out of arrogance, but out of habit. He’s used to reading people, measuring how they move when they’re inside a space that belongs to him.

“I’m working on a column,” you say finally. “Series called The Lives Behind the Screens.”

“I’ve heard.” He nods once. “They sent me your articles. You ask better questions than most.”

You glance up. “You actually read them?”

His mouth quirks into a crooked kind of smile. Dry, a little arrogant, but not in a way that pushes you away. If anything, it pulls you in. 

“I like knowing who’s about to ask if I’ve always been this good with my hands.”

That draws a smile from you, small, tight. Not because it’s funny. But because you expected that line. He’s testing the waters.

“I’m not here just to talk about your sex life,” you say.

There’s a flicker at the corner of his lips. Something amused. Not quite a grin, just a suggestion of one, like he’s trying to decide if he’s impressed or annoyed.

“Shame,” he murmurs. “That’s usually the fun part.” there’s a languid rhythm to the way he speaks, each word stretched just enough to make you feel it.

The silence stretches.

Not uncomfortable. Just... charged. Like you’re both waiting to see who steps forward first.

Across the room, Seonghwa moves toward the bookshelf along the far wall. Not performative, not for your benefit. He’s just giving you time to look at him.

So you do.

He’s taller than you realized. Lean, but strong in the way dancers are. He walks like he knows people are watching, not cocky, just aware. The kind of presence that doesn’t demand attention, it assumes it. And the longer you observe, the more it’s clear: nothing about him is accidental.

The sheer shirt might as well be part of his skin. It moves when he moves. His black jeans are worn soft at the seams, sitting low on his hips. No belt. Just a silver chain around one wrist, around his neck and that single piercing. A bar through his eyebrow.

When he turns to face you again, he doesn't sit.

“I’m guessing you’ve already read everything about me,” he says, voice casual, like he’s talking about the weather.

“I tried to,” you admit, finally jotting something down, the way he speaks without looking for approval, the confidence that isn’t loud. “But I don’t think it matters.”

That earns you a longer look. His head tilts. “Why not?”

You don’t glance up from your page. “Because none of it’s yours. It's press releases. Magazine quotes. Fan rumors. It’s the version of you people think they want to believe in.”

He’s silent for a beat too long. When you do meet his eyes again, there’s something softer around the edges. Not exposed. But interested.

“And what version are you looking for?” he asks.

“I’m here to figure out if there’s a man behind the star,” you say, tone even. “Or if you’ve just become the thing people want from you.”

That lands. You can feel it. His jaw shifts slightly, but he doesn’t look away.

“I could lie,” he offers, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. “Make up some tragic story. Childhood trauma. First heartbreak. Tell you something that’ll look good in a pull quote.”

“You could,” you nod, pen tapping once against the paper. “But I’d know.”

The corner of his mouth lifts again, but this time there’s no amusement in it. Just curiosity. A quiet spark behind his eyes that says you’ve surprised him.

He moves closer.

Only a few steps, measured, unrushed, and then leans against the back of the leather armchair opposite yours. His arms fold loosely across his chest, and he studies you like a mirror. Like you’re suddenly the one under scrutiny.

“You don’t flirt,” he observes.

You blink. “Is that a problem?”

“Most people do,” he says simply. “Even the ones who say they won’t.”

You meet his gaze, hold it. “I’m not most people.”

“No,” he murmurs, eyes narrowing slightly, like he’s trying to work out how you got under his skin without touching him. “You’re not.”

For a moment, something spreads between you. You’re not even sure what it is yet. But it’s there, between you. Not attraction. But interest. A tension that hums like a wire strung too tight.

You look away first, not out of defeat, but control. Your voice is smooth as you ask, “What’s the worst assumption people make about you?”

Seonghwa exhales through his nose. A faint smile, but more thoughtful this time. He leans his head back, eyes drifting toward the ceiling like he’s weighing the cost of honesty.

“That's easy,” he says eventually. “All of it. That I just show up and look good and take my clothes off, and somehow, that’s enough.”

You nod once, pen moving again.

“And is it?” you ask, without looking up.

“No,” he says, without hesitation. “But sometimes I wish it were.”

The vulnerability slips through so subtly, you almost miss it. But it’s there. And he lets it hang in the space between you, bare, unpolished.

You don’t press. Not yet. You just underline the sentence on your page, twice.

When you glance at him again, he’s already watching you.

Not in the way men look at women. Not like he’s trying to undress you.

He looks at you like he wants to know what you look like with your guard down.

“What made you start doing this?” you ask again, pushing a little harder this time.

Seonghwa exhales through his nose, grabs another cigarette from his pocket and lights it with an unreadable expression. He taps ash into the glass tray on the table between you.

“I like sex,” he says simply, lips curving just slightly. “Turns out, I’m good at it. People like to watch. Seemed like a win-win.”

You don’t blink. Don’t smile back.

“I’m sure that’s true,” you say evenly. “But that’s not really an answer.”

His brows lift. Just a fraction. You think you catch the flicker of something else in his eyes, not surprise, exactly, but interest. Curiosity. Most people probably take the bait and laugh. Move on.

You don’t.

“So what kind of answer are you looking for?” he asks, his tone lighter now. It’s playful. Not mocking, but there’s a dare underneath it.

“The real kind,” you say. “Unless that’s too much to ask.”

He looks at you for a beat too long. Then, just when the silence starts to turn into something heavier, he grins. It’s not the polished smile from his photoshoots or the cocky smirk from his scenes. It’s crooked. Defensive.

“You’re intense,” he says.

“You’re guarded,” you shoot back.

That actually gets a laugh out of him, low and warm. He places the cigarette between his lips again, holding your gaze as he breathes in. He smells like smoke and sandalwood, expensive and addictive.

“Is it hard to get hard when you don’t actually want the person touching you?”

That makes him go still.

No smirk. No clever deflection. Just a small shift in his eyes, like a curtain tugged half an inch to the side.

“That’s a hell of a question,” he says eventually, exhaling smoke slowly through his nose.

You wait.

The jewelry on his fingers glints in the soft light. He taps the cigarette out with one hand, stubs it, and doesn’t light another.

“Sometimes it’s hard,” he says eventually. “Not physically. Mechanically, there are tricks. Prep. It’s part of the job. But mentally…” He shrugs. “Some days you show up and your body does the work, but your head isn’t anywhere near it.”

“Where does it go?” you ask.

That question lands harder than you expected. He doesn’t answer it right away.

“You like making people uncomfortable, don’t you?” he says instead, with a sharp little smile.

“I like watching people flinch when they’re used to being worshipped,” you shoot back.

That does it, a soft laugh, almost disbelieving. He runs a hand through his dark hair, the first sign of agitation. Or maybe… intrigue.

“You think I’m used to being worshipped?”

“I think you’ve made a career off of it,” you say. “And I think you’re smart enough to know none of it’s real.”

He straightens up slowly, standing to full height. Not a threat, but a shift in dynamic. He towers, but doesn’t loom. He just exists fully, commandingly, in the space. Smoke, sex, control, all wrapped in the body of a man who knows what power feels like in his palm.

“Tomorrow,” he says, tone clipped now. “Be on set at ten. Don’t be late.”

You nod, but don’t move yet. “And you’ll show me?”

He lifts a brow. “Show you what?”

“What it looks like when you stop pretending.”

The look he gives you is unreadable. Half danger, half fascination.

Then he says, “Careful what you wish for.”

***

You don’t expect to be alone when he finds you.

You’re standing just beyond the edge of the set, not quite hidden but far enough away that you don’t feel like you’re intruding. The lights are half-up, the crew moving with quiet efficiency, adjusting equipment, taping marks to the floor. It’s all so… normal. Not chaotic. Not hypersexualized. Not what you thought a porn set would look like.

There’s nothing cheap about it. No sleaze. No haze of something you can’t name.

Just calm. Controlled. Professional.

Then you feel him before you hear him.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to show up early to this,” Seonghwa says.

You turn.

He’s closer than you expected, but not too close, just inside your space enough to remind you this is his world. His set. His rules.

He’s dressed down. Black pants. Loose black tank. Hair still damp, like he just showered. Barefoot. There’s a quiet confidence to him, the kind that doesn’t need announcing. And that damn eyebrow piercing catches the light when he looks at you.

“I figured you’d bail,” he says, "Didn’t think this kind of work was your thing.”

You glance over your notepad without looking up. “It’s not.”

He tilts his head. “Dedicated. Or just curious?”

“I’m here to work.”

“You keep saying that,” he muses. “Like you’re trying to convince someone.”

You meet his gaze, steady. “Would it make you more comfortable if I pretended to be flustered around you?”

He laughs, soft, warm. “No,” he says. “That’s the problem. You don’t pretend.”

You say nothing, but your fingers tighten slightly around your notebook. He catches it.

His smile sharpens, but his voice stays casual. “So,” he says, “first time seeing something like this in person?”

You nod.

“No nerves?”

“A few,” you admit. “But I’ve done harder interviews.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “Harder than watching me fuck someone ten feet in front of you?”

Your throat tightens, just slightly. Not enough to show. But something shifts in your expression. His eyes track it.

He grins.

You look back at him, carefully composed. “I’m still here.”

“That you are,” he says, quieter now. “And you’ll watch? Even if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t think it will.”

A beat passes. His gaze lingers on your face. Then he nods, almost approvingly.

“Good,” he says. “Then let’s see how much you’re really ready for.”

He turns, just like that, walking toward the set. The curtain parts behind him.

And just before it closes, he glances over his shoulder.

“Try not to fall for me,” he says with a crooked smile. “It gets messy.”

You don’t answer. You just grip your notebook a little tighter.

You’re here. Watching, really watching.

The red light blinks above like a warning and a promise, casting a harsh glow over the small, claustrophobic set. Seonghwa stands center stage, muscles taut beneath his soaked black tank top, sweat glistening on his skin like he’s been moving for hours.

He doesn’t look up as he starts, he’s not just touching her, his set-partner. He’s worshipping every inch.

She’s moaning, low, ragged sounds that fill the room, vibrating against your skin. His fingers find her, moving inside her with a steady, expert pressure that makes her cry out in pleasure. His mouth covers hers, rough and demanding, teeth grazing her bottom lip, swallowing every protest she might have.

His hips thrust hard, the tank top clinging to every muscle twitch, sweat dripping down the curve of his spine. He grunts low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he drives her higher, faster.

And then, just when you think you can’t bear it, he looks up.

His eyes catch yours across the room, sharp and knowing. It’s like he can see right through your carefully constructed wall, the cool, detached journalist trying to stay professional, and he’s amused by it. Maybe even hungry for it. There’s a flicker of cocky challenge there, a silent dare: Keep watching.

The way his mouth curves into a slow, teasing smile sends a jolt through you, and you realize this isn’t just a show for the cameras. This is his playground, and you’re the unexpected audience he wants to mesmerize.

You feel heat rise between your legs, your breath catching in your throat despite yourself. This is supposed to be work. But your body betrays you, tightening, aching, wanting. Your skin prickles as the two of them writhe, tangled in lust and need, so raw, so real, it’s impossible to pretend it’s not affecting you.

Every moan, every bite, every slick slide of his fingers on her wetness is a punch straight to your gut. You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be feeling this. But you are.

And it terrifies you.

You wait alone in the dim waiting room, the muffled sounds of the set still echoing faintly beyond the door. Your fingers drum nervously against the notebook in your arms, mind spinning with what you just witnessed. The intoxicating mix of raw power, control, and vulnerability, everything about him pulls at you in ways you didn’t expect.

The door swings open without warning.

He steps inside, still dripping with sweat, the black robe hanging loose and wet against his skin. His dark hair is tangled, strands plastered to his forehead and neck, but he looks effortless, like he just conquered the world or at least that room.

His gaze lands on you, smirking as if he knows exactly what’s racing through your mind. “So,” he says, voice low and husky, “did the show live up to your expectations?”

You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “It was... intense. Different than anything I imagined.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, the heat radiating off him making your skin flush. “I told you, this isn’t some act. It’s real.”

You don’t look away, but take a small step back so you feel the wall behind you. “I saw that. You’re not faking it.”

His smirk deepens. “I don’t do fake. My body knows what to do.” He lets the robe slip slightly off one shoulder, revealing the sweat-slick skin beneath. “But now, I want to see you. What happens when you drop the act?”

Your breath catches. “I’m not the one putting on a show.”

He steps closer, just enough that you can feel his warmth, eyes locked on yours with a playful challenge. “Maybe you’re hiding better than I thought. But I don’t scare easy. You push me, I’ll push back.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of your chair. “Then push.”

Seonghwa leans in just a fraction closer, his dark eyes locked onto yours with that smoldering mix of cocky challenge and genuine curiosity. The faint scent of sweat and something uniquely his, clean, but with a wild edge, fills the small space between you. He lets the robe slip a little more off his shoulder, just enough to tease, but not enough to give everything away.

“So, what’s your move, reporter?”

His gaze narrows, sharp and piercing as he lets his fingers trail just a breath away from your skin, deliberately not touching, drawing out the moment. Neither of you is blinking.

“You want answers,” he says, voice low and teasing. “But answers come at a price. You think you can handle what you don’t expect?”

You hold his stare, heart pounding, refusing to flinch. “I’m not here to be intimidated.”

He lets out a slow, dark laugh, amused and a little impressed. “Good. Because I’m not here to entertain you… at least, not yet.”

He steps back, letting the space between you swell with the weight of what just passed, then pulls his robe tighter around his frame with a smooth motion. “But here’s a deal: I’ll give you the story you want. The real me, the part behind the flashing lights and staged scenes. On one condition.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Which is?”

He leans in close enough that his breath brushes your ear, voice a rough whisper. “You come back. You don’t flinch. You keep pushing. No matter how messy it gets. You keep digging, even when it hurts. No backing down. And maybe… just maybe, you’ll get more than you bargained for.”

He pulls away, smirking like he’s already won the game. “Think it over. I’ll be waiting.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you alone with the echo of his challenge ringing louder than any spotlight.

***

When the elevator dings on his floor, you step out into a narrow, dimly lit hallway. The walls are a cool gray, the faint smell of leather and something smoky wafting up from behind one door.

You take a breath and knock lightly.

The door swings open before you finish the knock, revealing Seonghwa. “Come in,” he says, voice low, almost teasing. He steps aside, letting you slip inside.

The air smells faintly of cologne and smoke, the leftover echo of whatever he did on set lingering like something physical. The windows are wide, letting in the soft amber of the city outside. It should feel casual. It doesn’t.

You take it all in quietly, feeling the weight of his space, the echo of the man who lives here.

You settle into the dark gray couch, eyes never leaving him as he moves with casual ease.

Seonghwa walks toward the open-plan kitchen, barefoot, hair damp from a quick shower. He’s once again a robe, black, slung loose around him, revealing toned legs and glimpses of his chest when the fabric parts with each lazy step. You pretend not to notice. You do. It’s impossible not to.

He grabs a lighter from the counter, flicks it without looking, and lights the cigarette already tucked between his lips. The inhale is long. Slow. A sigh through his nose. Then he turns toward you.

“You look like you’re in a dentist’s waiting room,” he murmurs. Voice warm. Slightly mocking.

He exhales smoke and walks closer, staying on his side of the room but dropping into the armchair across from you, in the middle of the two couches, slouching low like he owns the place. Which, of course, he does.

The room shrinks around you, charged with something unspoken and raw. You don’t like it. You don’t want it. But you can’t look away.

“Okay, then,” you say, voice sharp. “You like being watched?”

A lazy smirk curls his mouth. “Doesn’t everyone?” He leans forward, arms resting on his thighs, cigarette perched between his fingers. The smoke curls up toward the ceiling.

Then he speaks again. “I like control,” he says. “I like knowing what people want and giving it to them. It’s… intimate. But safe. And when you’re good at it? They forget it’s a performance.”

Your throat tightens slightly, but you nod. “So it’s about power?”

“It’s about reading people,” he corrects. Then, smoothly, “My turn.” He tilts his head, studying you like you’re the subject now. 

“Who broke you?”

Your stomach tightens. “What?”

He grins, slow and wicked. “You walk around like you’re armored, like you’ve got barbed wire under your skin. So who put it there?”

“I’m not here to talk about me.”

His voice drops, velvet smooth. “Show me who you are.”

Your lips tighten. “No one broke me.”

“Everyone’s broken somewhere,” he says, quietly. “You just hide it well.”

He eyes you again. “My turn, again. Because you didn't answer properly before-”

You shake your head. “I’m the interviewer.” you interrupt.

“And I’m interested in you.” His smile grows.

You feel your breath hitch, but hide it behind a slow blink.

The tension between you burns like the end of his cigarette. He stubs it out, stands slowly, robe slipping slightly off his shoulder as he crosses the space between you.

Then he pauses in front of you, not quite touching, looking down.

“You want more access?” he asks, voice velvet smooth. “Then let me have the same.”

You look up, chin raised. “What are you proposing?”

“A deal.” His eyes darken. “I’ll answer anything. All of your questions. But I get to ask whatever I want too. I get to dig just as deep.”

You hesitate. He sees it. Feeds off it.

“And if you can’t handle that,” he adds, soft and cutting, “you should probably go.”

You grit your teeth. Your pulse pounds in your throat. Your body leans forward before your mind catches up.

“Fine,” you breathe. “Deal.”

He grins.

“Good,” he says. “Now, let’s really begin.”

You’re still on the couch when he lowers himself beside you, not in the armchair across the room, not at a polite distance, but next to you. His thigh brushes yours. The robe shifts again, riding high on his legs, revealing toned skin and hints of muscle that make it hard to focus.

He’s warm. Too warm. And the silence between you goes thick and heavy, soaked in everything you aren’t saying.

“Alright,” you say, keeping your voice flat, composed, even though your heart is hammering in your chest. “You made a deal. Ask.”

He smirks, eyes raking over your face like he’s deciding where to begin.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

Your breath catches, like he’s slapped you with the question instead of asking it. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink.

“You said I could ask a question,” he murmurs, voice low and honey-smooth. “I’m just playing by the rules.”

You recover quickly, jaw tightening. “Next question.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“You want honesty? Fine,” You meet his eyes, sharp, challenging. “I think about what it feels like to stop controlling everything. To not be the one driving. To let someone else take over, just for a while.”

His expression shifts, only slightly, but you see it. Something almost thoughtful in the cocky glint of his gaze. He leans back, just a little, arm along the top of the couch behind you.

“Interesting,” he says. “So you like to let go.”

Your turn. “How often do you sleep with someone off-camera?”

He shrugs. “Less than people think. When sex becomes work, it’s harder to want it just for fun. But when I do… I make sure it’s worth it.”

Your pulse skips. You force yourself not to look away.

He leans in. His voice drops, brushing your skin like it knows what it’s doing.

“Would you ever let go with someone like me?”

You stare at him. Hard. “Would you ever stop performing with someone like me?”

A beat. A flicker of surprise behind his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve performed once since you walked through my door.”

“Liar.”

He laughs, low, rough, the sound curling down your spine. “You’d know, wouldn’t you?”

You should move. You don’t. He’s closer now, his thigh pressing against yours, the robe parting slightly as he turns toward you.

“And what about you?” he asks. “What’s under your perfect little armor?”

You stare back at him, fingers curling around the edges of your notebook.

He continues, tone deceptively light. “You come in here, all calm and collected. Like you’re not flustered. Like watching me get someone off in front of a room full of people didn’t do something to you.”

Your spine straightens.

“It didn’t,” you lie.

He grins slowly. “Sure. Let me guess, you’re just doing your job. You don’t feel anything.”

You don’t answer.

“I think you feel more than you let on,” he says, voice lower now. “But you’re too busy trying to prove you’re better than all of this. That you’re above it.”

You meet his gaze, and something inside you cracks. Just a little. “You think you know me?” you whisper.

“I think you wear control like I wear seduction. Like armor.” He leans back again, watching you with something that’s dangerously close to fascination. “But no one ever asks what happens when you take it off.”

You suck in a breath. “You don’t know what it’s like to have to earn respect in a world that doesn’t take women seriously unless they’re agreeable.”

He tilts his head. “And you don’t know what it’s like to be only wanted for what your body can do, not who you are.”

There it is.

The stillness between you is different now, warmer, denser. It hums beneath your skin.

He says it softer, like he means it. “No one gives a fuck about what I think. Just what I can make them feel.”

The words sit heavy in your chest. There’s a moment of silence. This is biggest crack you’ve managed to get out of his guarded shell.

Then his voice softens again, teasing this time. “Alright, journalist. My turn. Last question.”

Your stomach coils, tight with anticipation.

“Have you ever imagined someone fucking you so good it ruins you for everyone else?”

Your mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t blink. “Not just the act. The aftermath. The kind of sex that stays in your bones, makes everything after feel like a cheap imitation. You ever wondered what it’d take to break you like that?”

There’s no teasing in his voice now. Just quiet curiosity. Like it’s a scientific inquiry. You look at him, really look at him, and it’s suddenly so obvious he’s not just asking for the sake of it.

He wants to know if he could do it.

Your breath hitches.

And he sees it.

The smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth, that smug spark in his eye, you’ve just confirmed something for him.

He ashes the cigarette again, slow and easy. “Thought so,” he murmurs.

And the worst part?

You can’t even bring yourself to deny it.

***

You lie on your back in the dark, your sheets cool against your skin but your body too warm.

It’s late. Later than you meant to be awake. Your bedside lamp casts a muted glow across the ceiling, and you’ve already scrolled through every app on your phone twice. But your mind won’t stop replaying the evening.

You shift under the covers. They’re soft but do nothing to ease the heat crawling under your skin.

He got to you.

You hate that. You hate knowing that.

All of it replays in your mind on a loop, the cocky slant of his mouth, the lazy sprawl of his body across the couch, the way he tossed you that question like a match and watched it catch fire between your thighs.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

The nerve. And still, your stomach twisted.

But it wasn’t just the question. It was the way he said it. The way he looked at you like he already knew the answer. Like he could read it on your skin.

You shouldn’t care. He’s your subject. Your project. Your assignment. You’re here to peel back the layers, uncover the man behind the persona.

And yet, here you are. Lying in your bed. Thinking about him.

You open your browser on your phone. Start to type.

Park Seonghwa.

A breath hitches in your throat as the name autofills. You press enter.

Links bloom across the screen in a chaotic sprawl. Clips. Interviews. Promo photos. Glossy thumbnails of sex.

But it’s the one at the very top that stops you.

No clickbait. No dramatic title. Just:

Park Seonghwa – Solo | Intimate POV.

You stare at the thumbnail. It’s dark, soft-red-lit, just a close-up of his face. Damp hair pushed back. His lips slightly parted. His eyes. direct, dark, focused. On the camera. On you.

You hesitate.

Then your finger taps the screen.

The video loads slowly, black for a beat, and then…

There he is.

The camera is positioned low on the nightstand, the frame unsteady but intimate, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else to see. The soft red lighting of Seonghwa’s bedroom casts red shadows over his skin, the familiar surroundings of his private apartment making the moment feel even more forbidden. This isn’t a set. It’s his space. His bed. His sheets.

And he’s standing at the edge of it, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, the waistband barely clinging to his skin. His black-painted fingers trace a path along his abdomen.

His voice cuts through the quiet, low and rough, like he’s talking to himself as much as to whoever’s watching.

“I’m all alone tonight,” he says, lips curling into a wicked smile. “Just me, my hands, and this hard fucking cock. You watching this in your bed, baby?” he murmurs, voice low, laced with that cocky softness that makes your stomach twist. “Lying there all sweet and needy, just for me?”

The waistband slips lower. Your breath catches.

The camera captures it all, his cock, thick and hard, gradually revealed, the flushed head slick with precome, shining under the dim red light. Veins curl along the shaft like cords pulled tight with anticipation, each one pulsing with restrained tension.

“Mm, look at that. Fucking myself… but every thought? You. Every touch? You.” he drawls, spitting into his palm and wrapping his hand around himself with a practiced grip. He groans, low and deep, as he spreads the slickness over his cock. “I wish you were here, on this bed, touching yourself just like I am. Knowing I’m watching. Knowing you belong to me tonight.”

He starts to stroke himself, slow and teasing, watching the camera like he can see right through it. “Don’t touch yet,” he warns, voice sharp. “I didn’t tell you to move.”

He talks like he sees you, sees directly through the screen and into your eyes. Like he knows what you’re doing in your own room, alone, totally under his control.

He leans back against the edge of the bed, one hand behind him to steady him, the other still wrapped around his cock.

Then, his gaze sharpens again. “Alright, baby. Now you can touch. Let me see it. Fingers deep. Rub that clit slow and soft, don’t rush it. I want to hear how messy it gets.”

Your fingers tremble as you slide your hand beneath your clothes, cheeks flushing hot with a mix of shame and desperate need. Your breath hitches as your fingers meet your slick folds. Heat coils in your gut, sharp and needy.

“Good girl,” he groans. “That’s it. Just like that. Take your time. I want you fucking ruined by the end of this.”

He’s so fucking good at this. He’s a goddamn star.

His voice drops, ragged with arousal now. “Faster. Rub that little clit hard, don’t you dare stop. Fuck yourself for me, just like I told you.”

You whimper, body writhing under your sheets. Your shirt is already pushed up, one hand squeezing your phone tightly, the other between your thighs, fingers slick with arousal. Your hips roll into your own touch, matching the rhythm of his strokes.

He groans again, low and filthy, his voice rough with lust. “You better be touching yourself exactly like I told you. I want to hear you come for me, baby. Say my name loud.”

Your breath stutters as your fingers circle your clit faster, the wet sounds of your need echoing in your room. “Seonghwa… I-, please…”

“Fingers deeper,” he growls. “Rub that clit while you fuck yourself, baby, don’t make me say it again. I want you moaning my name, legs shaking, begging for more even when you can’t take it.”

You obey without hesitation, sprawled on your bed, one hand buried between your thighs, soaked with your own slick. 

But it’s not enough.

Your eyes flutter shut, body already moving in rhythm with his voice, his words, his breath. And then you let go. You pretend it’s not your fingers. You imagine it’s him.

That it’s Seonghwa between your legs, kneeling over you on your bed. His hands are the ones parting your thighs, his fingers circling your clit in teasing, torturously slow circles. You imagine the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, the press of his chest above yours, his cock hard against your stomach as he whispers filth right into your ear.

Your eyes snap open. They find the screen in your hand, find him.

“Look at you,” he pants, stroking faster now, spit and precome shining along the thick length of his cock. “Fucking yourself like a good little slut. You’d let me wreck you, wouldn’t you? You’d take every inch and still ask for more. I want you crying because it feels so fucking good.”

Your breath hitches, hips lifting into your own touch, and you pretend it’s him holding you down, not your trembling hand. That it’s his lips grazing your neck as he groans how tight and wet you are for him.

You moan, high and broken, hips jerking up against your fingers. “Yes-, yes, Seonghwa, please, I-”

Tears sting your lashes from how good it feels, how overwhelming it is to be seen and controlled, even from across a screen.

Then, suddenly, his voice softens just enough to ruin you. “Come for me now, pretty girl. Say my fucking name. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You cry out, body seizing as pleasure crashes over you in waves. “Seonghwa-, fuck, Seonghwa!”

And all the while, his eyes never leave the camera. Never leave you.

“Fucking perfect,” he groans, his strokes turning desperate now, almost harsh, as he chases his own release. “Look what you do to me.”

His body tenses, abs flexing, brows drawn tight with pleasure, lips parted as a strangled sound leaves him. And then he comes, cock jerking in his fist, thick ropes spilling over his stomach. His whole body shakes with it, moans leaving his beautiful mouth.

The video ends with him slumping back against the pillows, chest heaving, sweat shining on his skin, his hair a mess across his forehead. The smirk that curls on his lips is smug, victorious, as if he’s just claimed something from you without lifting a finger. 

“Fucking perfect,” he says softly. “Next time, maybe you’ll be here.”

And the video ends.

You’re left panting, flushed, utterly undone.

You set the phone down, heart still racing, skin still tingling. Embarrassment floods you, but beneath it is a darker craving, a need that won’t be satisfied anytime soon.

***

On Friday, you knock on the door, hesitate for a second, then push it open.

Same office. Same dark walls, same black armchair in the corner, same lingering scent of something expensive and musky. But today, none of it feels the same.

Your chest tightens with a rush of heat and embarrassment of seeing him. You remind yourself to focus, to stay professional. But the memory of the other night, the video you couldn’t stop watching, presses against your thoughts, making your cheeks flush.

He doesn’t notice.

Because the man sitting there doesn’t look like the one you met earlier this week.

Seonghwa is sunk deep into the armchair near the window, hood up, legs stretched out. A lit cigarette dangles between his fingers, ash clinging stubbornly to the end. His usual polished precision is nowhere in sight.

And neither is that smirk.

You pause in the doorway. “Morning.”

He lifts his head just barely, eyes narrowing like the light annoys him. “Oh. Right.. Today.”

No charm. No grin. Not even the cool confidence he always wears like armor.

“I texted you last night. Said I’d be here at ten.”

“Doesn’t mean I remembered,” he mutters, dragging from the cigarette. The smoke curls between you, soft and lazy, but his tone cuts through it like glass.

You step into the room, letting the door click softly behind you. “Are you okay?”

He gives you a look that makes it very clear that was the wrong question. “Peachy.”

You pause, scanning him. The hoodie. The mess of papers on his desk. A barely touched coffee going cold beside his laptop. The light in here is dim, drawn shades casting thin slats across the floor. You can feel the heat of his mood before he says another word.

“You don’t have to fake concern,” he mutters, taking another drag. “It’s not gonna make the column sound any less curated.”

Your brows knit. “Excuse me?”

He waves a hand toward you, toward the room. “This. All of this. Let’s not pretend this is anything other than you getting your material.”

You shift on your feet, a slow flare of irritation lighting your chest. “What do you think I want from this?”

“I think you care about getting the most interesting version of me. The wounded, brooding performer with something to hide.” His mouth twists into something sharp. “It’s exactly what you wanted to see, right?” His gaze cuts to you, sharp and flat. “Congratulations. You’re getting it.”

Your chest tightens, but you stay still. “You think I want you like this?”

“I think you want truth,” he snaps, tapping the ash into the tray. “And this is it. The version I try to keep under wraps because it doesn’t sell. Because it doesn’t make anyone hard or fall in love.”

You glance at the clock. “Do we still do this today? Or should I come back another time?”

He exhales a long breath, rubs a hand over his jaw. “Let’s get it over with.”

And for the first time since this whole thing began, you see him not as the man who holds all the cards, but as someone who hates being looked at too closely.

The day unfolds in fragments.

Meetings. Scripts. Phone calls. Camera tests.

You follow him like you’re supposed to, your notebook tucked under your arm, phone in your pocket, voice recorder untouched. Seonghwa walks ahead of you like he forgot you were even there, hood still up, sleeves shoved halfway to his elbows, the fraying hem of his sweatshirt twitching with each agitated movement.

The production assistant tries to make a joke as he hands Seonghwa a stack of papers. Seonghwa doesn’t smile.

It’s the little things. The way his knee bounces restlessly beneath the conference table. The way he pinches the bridge of his nose when he thinks no one’s looking. The way he zooms out when no one is talking.

You’re silent, mostly. Observing. But it’s impossible not to feel how much he doesn’t want you here.

Not just today, maybe at all.

When the others clear out of the room for a break, you’re left standing near the window. He lights another cigarette and leans back in his chair, exhaling with all the exhaustion of a man three times his age.

You glance at him. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t look at you. “Do I look okay?”

“No. That’s why I asked.”

He drags in another breath of smoke, eyes fixed somewhere past the window.

You take a step closer. “I’m not here to-”

“To fix anything,” he says, voice quieter now, less bite in it. He finally meets your eyes, and something in his expression softens just enough to hurt. “You’re here to tell a story. I get it.”

“That’s not all I’m doing. That’s not fair.”

He shrugs, more resigned than cold. “It’s not meant to be. It’s just… easier to believe you’re doing your job than actually giving a fuck.”

And it hits you then, he’s not trying to shut you out to be cruel. He’s doing it to keep himself from hoping for something more. You hate that he means it. That he believes it. That somewhere between the tension and the peeling back of layers, he still doesn’t trust you enough to believe you care.

Today’s studio space is colder than the hallway, industrial lights buzzing overhead, metal rigs stacked along the walls, and a makeshift bed propped under the camera setup.

You step in behind Seonghwa, careful not to bump into the maze of cords and crew. It’s eerily quiet for a shoot day. But maybe that’s because everyone’s waiting for him.

He’s in his hoodie, the hood still pulled over his head like armor. Hands in his pockets, spine tense. His steps are heavy, slow. Like walking into this room costs him something. And the moment people notice him, something shifts. Not respect. Not admiration. Something more primal.

“God, look at that,” someone murmurs near the lighting board. “Even with a hoodie on, he looks like sex.”

A grip elbows his buddy. “Bet they have him jack off again. He’s too good at it not to.”

Laughter buzzes through the set like a current. You pretend not to hear.

Seonghwa doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t respond. You watch his expression from the side, blank. Guarded. Not new to this.

The director finally enters, a man in a designer tee and sunglasses indoors, and claps his hands together with a wide, lazy grin. His eyes go straight to Seonghwa.

“There he is! My masterpiece,” he says with a grin. “Fuck, you’re still so fuckable it’s actually unfair. Even with that tired little pout, perfect. Stay like that.” He steps in close, fingers curling under the hem of Seonghwa’s hoodie and lifting it uninvited. “Yeah, we’ll use this for the thumbnail. Boys wanna be you, girls wanna ride you. And the ones in between? They’re paying double. Let’s not waste time on foreplay, you're losing the pants before we hit four minutes anyways.”

You blink. He doesn’t even ask.

“Today’s just a solo,” the director continues, already talking to the crew. “I want long shots of the buildup. Give me that lazy jerk-off style he does. Like he just woke up and couldn’t help himself. And get tight on his abs when he clenches, viewers love that shit. Make the fuckers at home feel like they’re right there, breathing down his neck.“

He turns back to Seonghwa. “Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just stroke it, look hot, moan a little, and come when I tell you.”

The words land with the weight of indifference. Like Seonghwa’s just a prop. A function. A dick and a face with a pulse.

You glance up at him. His jaw is tight. His mouth a flat line. Not angry, no. This isn’t new to him. It’s routine. Expected. A part of the job he doesn’t get to question.

You speak without thinking. “He’s not just a prop.”

That earns you a look. Not just from the director, but Seonghwa too. Something flickers in his eyes, shock, maybe surprise. 

The director barks a laugh. “Relax. Don’t get righteous. It’s the industry, sweetheart. If you don’t like it, you’re in the wrong room.” He walks off before you can respond, barking something about angles and cumshots.

The silence he leaves behind is deafening.

Seonghwa doesn’t move at first. When he finally does, it’s slow, measured. His jaw works, but his voice is low, almost too quiet to hear. “It’s not about what I want,” he says, eyes fixed on the floor. “It never is.” He doesn’t say more. Just shrugs off the hoodie and walks toward the set.

You don’t say a word.

But the director’s yelling grabs attention, half-distracted by his phone.

“Come on, Seonghwa. Slower. Let’s really feel that stroke. Sell it like you mean it.”

He doesn’t flinch, not outwardly.

You watch him slip into the rhythm. One hand curls lightly at the base of his stomach, the other resting behind him. He’s not touching himself, not yet.

He looks like a sculpture: smooth, stunning, perfect, and completely lifeless inside. The charm is gone. The Seonghwa you’ve gotten glimpses of, the one with the bitter laugh and the razor wit, the one who says too much when he’s tired and smokes like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded, isn’t here. He’s been replaced by a fantasy. A tool.

And no one seems to care.

“Yeah,” the director says absently, standing near the monitor. “God, your face does most of the work for you, doesn’t it? You could just stand there and they’d still fucking come.”

There’s laughter around the room. Like Seonghwa isn’t even present, like he’s just a prop they’re manipulating.

And it makes your chest ache.

You take a slow breath and step back from the edge of the set. There’s nothing for you to do here. Nothing to say that wouldn’t sound hollow, or patronizing, or worse, just like everyone else who pretends to care while still benefiting from his body.

So you turn and quietly leave the room. The hallway outside feels colder, quieter. You don’t know what you’re allowed to feel in this moment. Anger? Sympathy? Guilt?

You just know you couldn't watch anymore.

Not when he clearly didn’t want you to. Not when the man you came here to understand was being stripped away, piece by piece, until only the image was left.

And that image? That glossy, controlled performance?

That’s what they want. Not him. Not the real him.

And somehow, that realization hurts more than you expected.

The dressing room smells faintly of cologne, latex, and sweat. You sit on the edge of the black bench against the wall when the door opens. The sound is sharp in the stillness, followed by footsteps that slow as they see you.

Seonghwa walks in, his hoodie bunched in one hand, hair damp, jaw clenched. He’s wearing only his sweatpants, his skin still glistening with leftover oil. His expression flickers, not anger, but something edged. Tired. Wary.

He walks past you, heading to the corner where a small fridge hums beside the dressing table. Rows of expensive liquor line the shelves. Vodka, whiskey, soju, even a few overly expensive wine bottles. Every possible way to forget himself sits chilled and ready. But he ignores them all, reaching instead for a plain bottle of water. He drinks slowly, throat moving, his other hand flexing once at his side like he’s holding something in.

"You left." His voice is rough. Not accusing. Just...surprised.

You meet his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Didn’t think that would bother you,” He drops the hoodie onto a chair, drags a towel off a hook and wipes at his face. “You’ve seen me do worse.”

“I didn’t leave because I couldn’t handle the scene,” you say. “I left because you looked like you couldn’t.”

His movements slow. The towel lowers slightly. 

“I’ve seen you do this before. At the studio, with the woman. You were in it. Comfortable. Maybe even enjoying it.”

He scoffs under his breath and turns away, tossing the towel onto the counter. “That was a different day. Different shoot. Different director.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Back then, it looked like a choice. Like you were in control. Today it didn’t.”

He leans both hands on the edge of the counter, shoulders tense. “You know what the difference is?” He looks at you in the mirror, not turning. “That shoot? I liked the director. I liked the setting. I was in the fucking mood. It worked because it came from me. This-” He laughs hollowly, a crack of frustration. “This was someone powerful enough to say do it or get out. Someone I can’t afford to say no to. So, I did it.”

You don’t speak. You let him.

“I wasn’t in the mood. I didn’t want anyone touching me. Didn’t want to fuck, didn’t want to look sexy, didn’t want to perform, but I had to.” He shakes his head. “There are days that feels like a goddamn prison sentence.”

He finally turns, leaning back against the counter now. Arms crossed. His chest rises slowly, like he’s trying not to show how much he said just cost him.

You watch him carefully, the hard edges softening just enough to see the man behind the mask.

“You said you don’t fake it,” you say quietly. “So… what was that?”

He sighs, eyes flicking away before meeting yours again. “Survival,” he admits, voice low but steady. “I love what I do. I’m proud of who I’ve become, what I’ve built from nothing. I own this life. The good, the bad, all of it. But like any job, there are parts you hate. Parts that drain you.” He taps the counter, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “That scene? That was me bending to someone else’s will. I swallowed it because I had to. Because I don’t get to pick every day. And sometimes surviving means doing things you hate, even when you don’t want to.”

The silence stretches between you. Something hangs in the air, too heavy for neither of you to grab.

“No one’s ever walked away before,” he says finally. His voice is lower now. “They usually just...watch. Or enjoy the show.”

Slowly, you rise to your feet, the movement drawing his attention. He lowers his gaze, fingers dragging over his jaw. There's exhaustion etched into his features, but beneath it, something quieter, heavier. Resignation.

“I didn’t come here to feed on the worst version of you,” you say. “I came here to see the real one. That’s not the same thing.”

Seonghwa doesn’t look at you right away. His jaw flexes once. He’s quiet for a beat too long, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s angry, or maybe, just maybe, it’s because he doesn’t know how to respond.

Then, finally, a dry sound leaves his throat. Almost a laugh.

“Well,” he says softer, glancing over at you again, voice softer, “congrats. You got him.” His gaze sharpens, a little of that old arrogance flickering behind it. “Grumpy. Tired. Mentally undressing people out of sheer boredom. You sure that’s the ‘real’ me you wanted?”

You lift a brow. “If this is you flirting again, it’s deeply depressing.”

He snorts, pushing off the dressing table to pace the small room with slow steps.

“You make it hard not to,” he says. 

There’s something in his walk, looser than before, more relaxed, like some of the tension’s drained from his muscles.

When he speaks again, his voice is lower, more thoughtful. “You know, I usually expect people to want things from me. Attention. A show. Something they can get off to, or write about, or pretend to care about just long enough to take.”

You meet his eyes.

“And what do I want?” you ask.

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” he says, a little smile curling at his lips now. “But it’s starting to piss me off.”

You let out a short laugh. “Good.”

He steps closer.

Not too close. Just enough to tilt the atmosphere again. To remind you of how he carries himself when he’s not being forced to play a role, but when he chooses to.

“Maybe you’re the first one who didn’t want the performance,” he murmurs. “But that means you might actually want me. And that’s… far more dangerous.”

He steps closer. Enough to make you feel like he could cage you.

Your mouth twists. “I can handle dangerous.”

“I know you can,” he says, his gaze dropping briefly to your mouth before rising again. “Which is probably why I keep wondering what it’d take to ruin you.”

Your breath catches, just barely. But you recover fast, narrowing your eyes.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in control here.”

He laughs under his breath. “Oh, I remember. You’ve been trying to control me from day one.”

You smirk. “Trying?”

The air between you charges again, a slow rise of energy you’ve both become addicted to, banter as foreplay, tension as currency.

He leans in just slightly, voice a whisper now. “You keep poking at the beast, sweetheart, and one day it’s gonna bite.”

You don’t back down. You never do. Instead, you tilt your head, eyes bright, tone playful but edged.

“Show me who you are, pornstar.”

And this time, it’s him left watching your back as you leave the room, a slow grin curving at the edge of his mouth.

The day drags on, marked by long meetings, quick walks between sets, and endless discussions about scripts, schedules, and contracts. From the outside, Seonghwa is in professional, his face a carefully guarded mask as he navigates a world that rarely sees past his looks.

But you notice the small things that slip through the cracks.

When a new intern drops a clipboard near him, he crouches without hesitation, helping her gather the pages. “It happens,” he murmurs, flashing a small, crooked smile. She blushes. He doesn’t notice, he’s too focused on making sure the papers aren’t bent.

You see how he checks in with his scene partner when going through an upcoming scene. Not just the “are you okay?” they’re supposed to say, but the quiet, real kind. “Do you want to run through it first?” “Is there a word you don’t like hearing?” “Tell me what makes you feel safe.” His voice never dips into showmanship. He means it.

He holds the boom operator’s ladder while they’re adjusting the rig, just instinct. Offers his hoodie to a grip when the studio AC kicks in too hard. Tells the runner she can take his spot in line for catering because she’s been on her feet all day.

The day’s light was fading as you wrapped up, the set slowly emptying out around you. You felt the weight of the last few days settle in, a strange mix of exhaustion and anticipation. On Monday, this all would be just words on a page, a story told from your view. But tonight, there was still unfinished business. A handful of questions you needed to ask him before publishing on Monday.

He didn’t say much as you left the set together. When you arrived at his apartment, the familiar scent of his space settled around you like a cloak, dark wood, leather, a faint trace of his cologne lingering in the air.

The city outside buzzed faintly, but inside, it was different. More intimate. Raw.

In the kitchen, he opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle. You expect something like whiskey or beer, something to match the rough edges you’ve seen in him, but instead, he grabs a sparkling water and pops the cap with a practiced flick. He drinks without hesitation, eyes locked on the glass.

You watch for a moment. He drinks other things, coffee, energy drinks, soda, but not alcohol. Curious, you finally address it, “You never touch alcohol.”

He exhales slowly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m sober. Used to drink, back when I started all this,” he says, nodding vaguely toward the industry chaos outside. “Made things easier, especially scenes I didn’t want to do. Just numb the brain, let the body do the work. But it didn’t stay easy. Became a problem.”

He shrugs, a little bitter. “Quit cold turkey. Stuck to cigarettes. They don’t fuck with me the way alcohol did.”

You take that in, the weight behind his words settling between you.

He glances up, a spark of that familiar cocky edge in his eyes. “Same deal as last time,” he says quietly. “You get to ask whatever you want, I get to ask you back.”

You hesitate for a beat, then nod, meeting his gaze steadily. “Fair enough.”

The room shifts subtly, the air thickening as you settle on the couch, the glow of the city filtering in through the blinds. He drops onto the couch opposite you, propping an elbow on the armrest and flicking a glance your way that’s half teasing, half challenging. The familiar smirk curling at the corner of his lips, the kind that warns you he’s gearing up to push boundaries.

“So,” he starts, voice low and teasing, “what’s the first thing you want to know? Don’t hold back. You’re not here for small talk.”

You meet his gaze, feeling the heat of it, the sharpness wrapped in that easy confidence. “Alright then,” you say, “what’s the one thing about you that no one’s ever bothered to ask?”

His smirk deepens. “Curious. I like that.” He taps his finger against his chin. “I guess… people never ask what scares me. Everyone’s so obsessed with the surface, nobody wants to know what actually keeps me up at night.”

He leans back in the couch, arm resting casually on the armrest, his gaze locked on you with that familiar cocky glint. “Alright,” he says, voice low and slow like he’s savoring every word. “Your turn to answer. But I’m not asking about your favorite color or some safe, boring shit.” He tilts his head, like he’s about to deliver a verdict. “What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever imagined me doing to you? Don’t hide it, I know you’ve thought about it.”

Your breath hitches. You want to look away, but his gaze pins you, sharp and relentless. “You don’t know a thing about me,” you say, voice tight but quiet.

“Just admit that I get under your skin.” he pushes.

The air thickens between you, every word a spark, every look a flame. You don’t answer, but the tension says everything.

He tips his head toward you, a slow grin pulling at his lips. “Alright,” he says, voice low and playful. “Speed round. No thinking, just answer.”

You bite back a smirk. “Fine. But same rules for you.”

He raises his hand, palm open in mock surrender. “Deal.” A pause. He leans forward, eyes glinting. “Lights on or off?”

You roll your eyes. “Off.” You don’t hesitate. “What was your first scene like?”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Awful. Cheap hotel room, bad lighting, guy behind the camera eating chips the whole time. I hated every second of it, until the money hit.”

You nod, filing it away.

His eyes flicker over you. “Ever had someone make you come so hard you forgot your own name?”

You blink, caught off guard, but you recover quickly. “No.”

He raises a brow. “No?”

You shake your head. “Next question.”

He’s grinning now. “Cold. I like it.”

You tilt your head. “What makes a scene enjoyable for you?”

“Chemistry,” he answers easily. “Real tension. Not just moaning on command.” He doesn’t wait. “Where do you like to be touched first?”

You narrow your eyes. “Really?”

“I’m not here for your journalism,” he says smoothly. “I want the truth.”

You shift in your seat. “Fine. Shoulders, my neck,” You exhale, shifting in your seat. “Rough or slow?”

His gaze darkens just a shade. “Both. Start slow, end ruined.” His eyes glitter as he tilts his head. “When you touched yourself the other night… what did you picture me doing?”

The question hits like a slap, fast, sharp, completely out of nowhere.

You freeze.

It’s just for a second. A breath, a blink. But it’s all he needs.

His smirk blooms, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the flavor of your silence.

“Oh,” he says, voice low and rich. “That’s all the answer I need.”

Your eyes narrow, heart beating faster. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“It was better than one,” he murmurs. “You should see your face right now.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” He leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees, every line of him tuned in. “So what was it? Me between your thighs? My fingers? My mouth?” He grins. “Or did you watch a video of mine?”

You hate that he’s right. You hate even more how much of this is true. How a few nights ago, in your bed, you had slipped your hand between your thighs with the very image of him in your head, voice, mouth, body, all of it.

And now he’s sitting across from you, as if he knows.

You shift in your seat, your heart beating in your neck, tightening your jaw. “Do you always get off on making people flustered?”

He smiles, utterly unbothered. “Only when they’re pretending they’re not dying to be fucked.”

He doesn’t move at first. Just watches you from across the room, legs spread comfortably on the couch opposite yours, his elbow draped lazily over the armrest like he’s got all the time in the world. 

Then, without a word, he rises.

You don’t track him with your eyes, but you feel it, his slow, easy steps as he walks around the coffee table and then behind your couch. Your breath hitches when you sense him close, the faint scent of his cologne and smoke drifting down as he pauses behind you. You stiffen slightly, unsure of his next move.

And then his fingers touch your shoulders.

His voice comes low beside your ear, thick with promise and filth. “So what was I doing in that pretty little head of yours?”

You inhale sharply, but say nothing.

“Was it my mouth?” he continues, fingertips trailing with maddening gentleness over the curve of your shoulder. “My tongue?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

His hand pauses, then brushes a little more firmly down your upper arm. “Or were you fucking yourself to a video? The kitchen one, maybe? The way I bend her over the counter and make her beg? That one tends to be a favorite,”

Your legs press together without thinking, and you feel his pause, feel the smirk in it.

“Oh,” he says softly. “So it was a video.”

Behind you, his voice lowers.

“Maybe it wasn’t one of the rough ones,” he murmurs. “Maybe it wasn’t even with a partner. Maybe…” His fingers pause, then brush inwards, tracing just beneath the neckline of your shirt, not quite slipping in, but enough to make your skin tighten. “Maybe it was one of the solo ones from my own bed.”

You don’t respond. You can’t. But the heat climbing up your chest gives you away.

“Those are always my favorites,” he adds, almost conversationally, but there's a layer beneath it, quieter, more real. “No director. No lights. Just me. In my space. Needing something.”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep control, but it’s already slipping. Your thighs press tighter together, and he must know.

He keeps going.

He leans in closer, breath warm against your skin. “Did you watch me stroke myself slow? Did you imagine kneeling between my legs, watching the way my hand moves? Did you-”

A sound escapes you, too soft to be a word, too loud to be ignored.

“Was I good?” he whispers.

Your breathe halters. You scoff, weakly. “You think too highly of yourself.”

He pushes, knowing what this is doing to you. “Did I make you come fast? Or did you take your time, pretending it was my fingers inside you?”

His hands settle gently at your shoulders again, and this time, his thumbs drag over the base of your neck.

“And now I’m right here,” he murmurs. “Right behind you. Talking you through it. Wanting to see when you give in.”

His thumbs sweep in lazy circles over the tops of your shoulders, light enough to keep you aching for more.

“I could make you feel so fucking good right now,” he says, voice silken and low. “You don’t even know.”

You grip the edge of the couch cushion, nails digging in. You still don’t answer. You can’t. Not when your breath is shallow, not when you’re afraid he’ll see just how badly you want it.

He chuckles, not mocking, but knowing.

“I see it in the way you breathe,” he says, “the way your thighs press together when I talk like this. You’re imagining it, aren’t you? Me between your legs. My mouth. My hands. My cock.”

Your entire body tenses, heat pulsing through your core like a current.

“But I’m not touching you yet,” he says, dragging his fingers higher, along the side of your neck this time, slow, reverent. “You want it. But I need you to give it to me. Say the word. Look at me. Move. Something.”

His fingers still, barely resting against your skin.

“I won’t take unless you give,” he murmurs. “But sweetheart, if you do give…” His voice dips, dark and sweet like molasses, “... I’ll ruin you in the best fucking way.”

You stay frozen for half a beat longer, heart thundering, torn between pride and hunger, between control and the deep, unbearable need rising in your chest.

Then, you shift.

Your voice is quiet. Barely above a whisper.

“Then take me.”

And that’s all he needs.

He doesn’t lunge for you. He doesn't devour or drag or tear, no, Seonghwa moves like he’s been waiting years for this, like he knows exactly how to handle something delicate, how to cherish what’s willingly offered. His hands leave your shoulders and slide down your arms, slow and grounding, as he steps around the couch and kneels before you.

His eyes never leave yours.

Your lips part, breath shaky. “I want you.”

And then he kisses you.

Not with aggression, but with intensity, like he’s memorizing the shape of your mouth, the way you taste, the way your breath catches when he deepens it. His hands press to your thighs, parting them slightly so he can move closer, fitting between them like he belongs there.

You wrap your arms around him, needing him more than you’d ever dare to admit.

His fingers skim beneath the hem of your shirt but don’t push, just touch, warm and open-palmed against your waist, your ribs, your spine.

You let out a moan just from his touch.

He grins against your neck, the cocky bastard, but it’s laced with something deeper, that maddening adoration, the one you’re not ready to look too closely at.

“I’m going to make it better than you imagined,” he says. “I promise you that.”

His tank top clings to his toned muscles, black nail polish catching the light, and that eyebrow piercing, sharp and bold, reminds you exactly who he is. A fucking pornstar. And he owns every part of that.

He doesn’t even look away as he drags down your jeans and they hit the floor. His hands stay on your thighs, spreading them apart like it’s instinct. Confident. Unshakable. His thumbs brush over your inner skin, slow and unhurried, like he’s already memorizing what makes you squirm.

And you do, just a little. Just enough.

“God, you’re so damn easy to read,” he breathes, his fingers trace up, catching at the edge of your panties, not pulling, just letting the pressure build.

One hand stays on your thigh, holding you steady. The other slips beneath the fabric, knuckles dragging slow and hot across your skin. His fingers slide through the slick mess between your legs, and he groans, low, appreciative, like he’s savoring it.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice rough against your skin. “You’re soaked for me. This wet just from my voice, my mouth…” His words brush against your thigh like heat. But it’s his fingers that undo you, two of them buried deep, dragging slow, perfect pressure inside you, curling just right.

You try to hold back the sounds, but you can’t. Not with him looking at you like that. Not with him touching you like this.

“I want to know,” he murmurs, voice dark and steady, eyes locked on yours as his fingers work inside you, steady and relentless. “Which one did you watch?”

You hesitate, jaw tight, breath shaky. His thumb finds your clit again and circles, soft, slow, teasing.

“Was it one of the rough ones?” he continues, cocking his head. 

You shake your head. Your voice barely escapes you, breathless and shame-warm. “It was… one of the solo ones.”

He stills for just a second. “Yeah?,” he breathes, pushing deeper, harder. “You watched me touch myself? Stroke my cock for the camera like I was thinking of someone like you?” He groans, fucking you slow with his fingers. “Was that it?”

His fingers slip out of you only long enough to hook into your panties, tugging them down in one smooth motion. He doesn’t rush it. He watches every inch of your skin as he reveals it, his eyes hot, hungry, reverent.

When they’re off, he drops them to the floor without a second thought, gaze trailing up the inside of your thighs like a promise. 

“Tell me what you liked about it,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of your thigh. “That video. Tell me what made you soak your sheets. Was I dirty enough? Rough? Did you picture me fucking you slow, or fast and ruthless?”

You hesitate, but his mouth moves higher, a wet kiss just beside your center, and your hips twitch.

He smiles against your skin. “Come on. You watched me stroke my cock in that bed, didn’t you? The way I moaned, the way I whispered filthy shit to the camera like I knew someone like you was watching.” His tongue traces a line slowly up your thigh. “You fucking loved it.”

Your voice cracks. “You… looked so good. The way you touched yourself. Slow. Like you weren’t in a rush. Like you really felt it.”

He groans, soft and deep. “I did feel it, baby. I was thinking of a mouth like yours. Of a pussy just like this…” He leans in and presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your clit. You gasp, thighs jumping. “And now I get to taste you for real.”

He doesn’t wait.

His mouth is there, tongue dragging firm and slow over your clit like he’s claiming it, sucking it between his lips with a low growl that vibrates right through you.

You arch up, one hand flying to his hair, the other gripping the couch, already unraveling.

“Tell me more,” he murmurs against you. “What made you come?”

You can barely breathe. “When you-” Your hips jerk as he flicks his tongue again. “When you moaned. The way your eyes looked when you came. Like… like you needed it.”

He moans in response, mouth working deeper now, and slides two fingers into you again, curling them just right.

“Yeah? You like seeing me lose it?” he groans. “Wanna see it again, real and messy? Feel it instead of watching it?”

You nod, desperate, hips grinding against his mouth, chasing his tongue. He laughs softly, dark and full of heat. “You’re so fucking responsive. That’s my favorite kind of girl, one who can’t fake it, can’t hide it.”

His fingers work with unrelenting precision, pornstar skill, yes, but this is personal. Focused. For you. 

He eats you like it’s his favorite meal. His mouth and fingers work in perfect rhythm, slow at first, then faster when your moans rise. He pulls you to the edge and keeps you there, not letting up, not letting go, until-

You shatter.

It rips through you like lightning, your moan breaking out loud and needy, hips bucking, thighs clenching around his head. He holds you through it, groaning into your pussy like your orgasm is everything he’s ever wanted.

You’re still trying to catch your breath, thighs trembling, body slack against the couch when he rises up from between your legs.

He looks wrecked, in the most beautiful way. Lips wet, hair mussed from your hands, chest rising and falling beneath that goddamn tank top that clings to him like a second skin. His eyes never leave yours, dark and full of something primal.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you, deep, tongue slipping into your mouth, making sure you feel how filthy he is. How much he wants more.

You kiss him back, instinctive now, desperate and starved, the lingering taste of yourself on his tongue only turning you on more.

He pulls back just enough to tug his tank top over his head and toss it aside. His body is ridiculous. Toned, cut, a living ad for sin.

He unbuttons his pants, unzips, and pulls them down, revealing hard thighs and that heavy bulge beneath his briefs. You can’t help the way your eyes lock there, at the thick outline of him, the part of him you’ve seen in clips, in curated fantasies, shadows of it from across a room, but never this close, never this real.

He smirks, catches your gaze. “Want to see what you touched yourself to?”

Your throat dries. You nod slowly.

He pushes his briefs down, cock springing free, thick, veined, flushed, already hard and leaking at the tip. Bigger than you remembered. Even more intimidating in person. Even more fucking perfect.

He wraps a hand around himself, stroking once, slowly, eyes locked on yours the entire time. 

“This what you watched?” he murmurs. “Me in my bed, stroking it slow, saying your name without even knowing it?”

You nod again, breathless.

You stay right where you are, seated on the edge of the couch, looking up at him, and he looks fucking godlike. His cock is thick and hard, and he’s looking at you like he’s about to ruin you all over again.

You reach for him, wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, thick and warm and pulsing in your hand, and the sound he makes is low, choked, like he wasn’t expecting how good it would feel already. His head falls back for just a second as you stroke him, your thumb brushing over the bead of pre-cum at the tip.

You lean in and lick a slow stripe up the underside of him, from base to tip, your tongue flat and teasing. His thighs flex, hands curling into fists at his sides.

“I watched you do this,” you whisper, licking your lips. “In that solo video. In your bed. Your hand wrapped around your cock just like this.”

His thumb wipes the mess from your bottom lip, but there’s nothing gentle about it now. There’s a fire behind his eyes, hunger sharpened into something rough, possessive.

“Open,” he says, and it’s not a request.

You do.

He slides his cock back between your lips, his hand finds the back of your head, threading through your hair, not rough, but firm. Grounding.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, breath hitching. “Relax your throat. Breathe through your nose. Just let me in.”

You focus on your breath. Inhale, exhale. You relax your jaw, tongue flat, letting him take up space, letting him show you how.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Fuck, yeah. Just like that.”

This time, when he pushes deeper, it’s smoother. Less panic, more control. Your body adjusts. Your mouth opens wider for him, your throat yielding, and it feels good. Powerful, even.

He groans, deep in his chest. “You feel that? That little click when it goes in deeper? That’s your throat giving up. That’s perfect, sweetheart.”

You hum around him, and he shudders.

“God, look at you. Taking me so fucking well. You learn fast.”

His praise makes your stomach twist, heat pooling low. Your eyes flutter up to meet his, wet and wide, and the look on his face, awe, hunger, something almost reverent, makes you want to show off.

You press forward on your own this time, let him slip fully into your throat.

He hisses, hips jerking.

“Fuck. Good girl. That’s it-, fuck, that’s it.”

His free hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking along your jaw, watching every twitch of your expression like it’s art. Like you’re art.

He’s fucking your face now.

Your nails dig into his thighs, eyes locked on his, and he can see it. The want. The ache. You need this. You need him. He pulls out slowly, finally, letting you gasp for air, spit trailing from your lip to his cock. Your eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed, mouth red and swollen, and you’ve never felt more ruined, or more alive.

His hand stays on your jaw, tilting your face up to him.

“You still with me, sweetheart?”

You nod, breathing hard, voice wrecked. “More.”

That word? It’s all he needs.

He grips your jaw, your throat sore, spit clinging to your lips and chin. Your eyes are glassy, lashes wet, cheeks flushed from being fucked so deep, so hard, and he can’t take it.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, staring at you like he’s ready to devour you. “You don’t even know what you look like right now.”

Your lips part like you might try to answer, but he doesn’t let you. He hauls you to your feet with one firm pull, fingers still tangled in your hair, and crashes his mouth onto yours.

It’s not soft.

It’s not sweet.

It’s desperate.

He kisses you like he owns your breath, like he needs to taste himself on your tongue, like the filthy mess you’ve become under his hands only makes him hungrier.

When he finally pulls back, his thumb wipes at the trail of spit along your cheek, slow and deliberate.

Without a word, he turns and drops into the black armchair behind him, legs spread, cock flushed and heavy, glistening with your spit. His fingers curl in a come here motion as he leans back, one brow lifted.

“Come sit, sweetheart,” he says, voice like smoke and sin. “I want to see everything.”

You hesitate, just a second. Enough for his grin to deepen.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs. “You’ve already had me fuck your mouth. Be a good girl and let me fill you up.”

Your pulse stutters, but your body moves on instinct. You slide into his lap, thighs spread wide, and his hands are instantly on you, firm on your hips, anchoring you in place. He’s so fucking hard beneath you, the thick weight of him resting right where you need it.

“Look at you,” he says, gaze locked on yours. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. And you’re all mine right now.”

You shift slightly, the friction making you gasp, and his hands tighten. 

“I want you to ride me,” he says, voice low, like a promise. “Right here. Just like this. I want to feel all of you.”

He’s a pornstar, yes. But right now, with you, he’s so much more, an expert, a predator, a lover who knows every move to make you unravel.

Your hands grip his shoulders, grounding yourself. His hands slide up your thighs, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin near your hips before he reaches between you both and takes his cock in hand. He doesn’t rush, just rubs the head slowly through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.

“God, you’re soaked,” he groans. “You want me to fuck you, baby? Want me to fill that tight little pussy?”

You barely manage a breathy, “Yes.”

He lines himself up and you sink down slowly, inch by inch, the stretch making your eyes flutter shut, your breath catch. He’s thick, hot, perfect, and when he’s fully seated inside you, the moan you let out is unfiltered, broken.

His head falls back against the chair, jaw clenched. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s how you take cock, baby. Just like that.”

You’re start bounce your hips, both of you breathless, sweat clinging to skin, when Seonghwa leans forward and fists the hem of your top.

“Off,” he growls against your neck, voice low and ragged. “I want to see all of you.”

He peels the fabric up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him without breaking eye contact. His gaze drops to your bare chest, and for a moment, just a moment, he laughs, low and rich, like you're too unreal to fathom. His tongue flicks over your nipple and you arch into him, hands tangled in his hair.

His hand slides up to your throat, not tight, just there, possessive, grounding, as his other arm wraps around your back, pulling you in tighter. He kisses you again, tongue claiming yours, messy and hot and hungry.

Then he shifts, just slightly, one hand sliding between your bodies, his fingers curling around your hips.

“Here,” he says, voice low and firm. “Tilt forward a little. Right there, now roll your hips when I fuck into you. Not just up and down, roll. You’ll feel it hit deeper.”

You do as he says, and the second your hips adjust, your breath catches. Fuck. It’s like the angle unlocks something, you feel him right against that spot inside you, that sharp, aching pressure that steals the words from your mouth.

“Oh-, oh my god-”

“There you go,” he groans, watching your face twist. “That’s it. You feel that now?”

You nod frantically, nails digging into his shoulders as you start to move, slow, rolling circles, grinding down as he thrusts up, every inch of him dragging right over that spot he told you to find.

His mouth finds your jaw, your ear. “Fucking knew you’d be good at this,” he breathes. “Smart girl. Feel how deep I am now? That’s all you. That’s you fucking yourself on my cock, just like I told you.”

You moan, loud and raw, body starting to tremble.

Suddenly, he shifts under you, standing in one fluid motion with your legs still wrapped around him, his arms securing you like you weigh nothing. You cling to him instinctively, arms around his neck, heart thudding like a war drum against your ribs.

He carries you through the dim hallway, but his eyes, his eyes are locked on you the whole way, like he doesn’t dare blink.

When he steps into the bedroom, it hits you.

The layout. The red lighting. The exact angle of the bed. The nightstand where the camera had been.

This is where he filmed it.

Your breath stutters, and he feels it. He knows.

His mouth curves, not quite a smile. More like something darker. “You recognize it.”

Before you can even say anything, he throws you down on the mattress, already dragging your legs apart, standing by the edge, looking down at you like he owns the whole fucking room. Like he owns you.

“You watched me stroke my cock on this bed? Come right here?” he asks, glancing down at the sheets beneath you.

You nod slowly, breath shallow.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, voice dark with promise, “Let’s make it fair.”

His hand moves between your thighs again, fingers spreading you open with no hesitation. His gaze flicks down, then back to your face, hungry.

And before you can ask what he means, he spits.

A slow, deliberate string lands between your legs, hitting right where you’re already dripping for him. He watches it drip, then reaches down to smear it in with two fingers, slow, messy circles that make your hips jerk.

He strokes himself lazily with his other hand, the head flushed and slick as he guides it up against your entrance again, but doesn’t push in.

“Now you’re getting the exclusive.” His smirk is wicked. “First-hand experience.”

And with no more warning, he pushes in, slow, deep, endless, his hips staying flush to yours as he lets you feel all of it. No rush. No mercy.

The stretch makes your spine arch, legs trembling where they dangle off the edge of the bed.

His hands grip your thighs, keeping you wide open, keeping you in place. His hips draw back just enough to make you whimper, then slam back in, harder this time.

You cry out, unfiltered, aching, and his mouth curves up. Another thrust, deeper. Your hands claw at the sheets.

“God-”

“No, baby.” His voice drops, taunting. “Say it right.”

You meet his eyes, panting. “Seonghwa.”

“Mmm,” he groans like it feeds him. “That’s better.”

You yelp, a high, broken sound, and he only grins, dragging your legs up to rest over his shoulders without warning.

“Fuck, look at you,” he pants, the shift angling him deeper, harder, like he’s trying to reach the part of you no one else has ever touched. His hips pound into you in a relentless rhythm, practiced, ruthless, like every stroke is calculated to make your body obey him.

“Fuck-, Seonghwa-”

“Bet no one’s ever fucked you like this. Bet no one’s ever earned it like I have.”

You shake your head, breathless. “N-No-, never-”

Seonghwa keeps his grip locked around your thighs, holding your legs over his shoulders, your body folded perfectly for him. His thrusts stay deep and steady, measured, intentional, devastating.

“Please-, please don’t stop-” you gasp, nails digging into the sheets. “You feel so good-, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he hisses, thrusting harder now. “You’re gonna take all of it, sweetheart. You’re gonna come again with me standing right here, fucking you like no one ever has.”

The bed creaks beneath you. His grip is bruising now, one hand sliding to your waist to hold you still as he picks up speed, hips slapping against you with ruthless precision.

Your body’s not just close, it’s on the edge, tipping over.

“Good girl,” he murmurs darkly. “Now cum on this cock. Let me feel it. Let me fucking have it.”

Your back arches, your body convulsing as you fall apart again, crying out his name like it’s the only word you know. Your walls clamp down around him, wet and tight and perfect, and he groans deep from his chest, like your pleasure physically wrecks him.

He doesn't slow. Doesn't stop.

"Where do you want it, baby?" he pants, voice low, urgent, dangerous. "Tell me where I can come."

You barely manage to speak, voice wrecked and raw with need. “Inside,” you breathe. “Please-, want it in me.”

His eyes flare. That’s all it takes.

“Fuck,” he snarls, grip tightening on your thighs as he buries himself to the hilt, hard and deep. His pace turns brutal, hips snapping forward with mindless hunger. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to stuff you full like a good girl?”

“Yes-, yes, Seonghwa-, please, give it to me-”

He lets out a desperate, broken sound, then his whole body seizes, cock pulsing deep inside you as he spills everything, hot and thick and endless, painting your walls with every last drop. His head hangs forward, jaw clenched, muscles flexed with the effort of holding himself up.

He stays inside for a beat. Just breathing.

Then he pulls out slowly, carefully, still watching you, and watches as his cum spills out of you, slow and messy, dribbling down your skin and pooling on the sheets beneath.

His fingers drift to your inner thigh, spreading you wider, watching more of it leak from your swollen entrance.

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Look at that.”

Then, without hesitation, his fingers press inside you again, pushing gently but firmly to shove back every last drop he can.

“Can’t let any of this go to waste,” he growls, possessive and rough.

You shiver at how desperate and controlling he sounds, but beneath that rough edge, there’s a strange reverence in his touch, like he’s worshipping the mark he’s left on you.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, coated with his warmth, and lifts them to your lips, eyes never leaving your flushed, gasping face. You open for him, trembling, sucking his fingers wet and slow, tasting both of you on his fingers. He watches with that smug, greedy smile, like he’s already claiming you completely.

He leans down, lips pressing against yours in a slow, soft kiss that melts away the sharp edges of the moment. His hands cup your flushed cheeks, thumb tracing gentle circles as if grounding you back to the here and now.

He stands up, flexing his shoulders, and walks over to the mini fridge near the dressing table. You hear the familiar click-hiss of a water bottle cap twisting. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, voice low and rough from everything, “take your time. No rush.”

He walks back to you, places the bottle into your hand, and taps your fingers lightly until you hold it.

“Drink,” he says. “You’ll thank me in twenty minutes.”

You take it, but your fingers are still trembling. Whether from the rush or the way he’s looking at you now, you can’t quite tell.

“Dizzy?” he asks, settling onto the bed next to you. Not touching, just close enough that his warmth bleeds into your skin.

“A little,” you admit.

“That happens,” he says, voice lower now, gentler. “You came hard, probably held your breath. Let your body level out. You’ll be okay. I’m right here.” He reaches up, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his eyes warm and steady.

There’s a pause. You take a sip of water.

“I didn’t expect you to be so...” You search for the word, then settle on it. “Attentive.”

He raises a brow, something amused flickering in his eyes. “You thought I just fuck and leave?”

“No. I just...” You shrug. “Didn’t think the guy who made that video would also bring me water. Be so soft after.”

“It’s not softness. It’s responsibility.” He smiles, a small, tender curve of his mouth that reaches his eyes. “I’m not just the guy in the video, you know. I don’t just show up, take what I want, and disappear.” His voice is steady, warm.

“They don't show this part in the videos. I thought it was different,” you whisper.

He shakes his head gently, as if it’s the simplest truth. “It’s not about being different. It’s about respect. About care. You deserve that."

He leans forward, brushing your hair off your forehead with a gentle touch, like he can’t stop touching you.

“And besides,” he adds, his voice dipping again, “you didn’t just watch the video. You liked it.” His thumb lingers at your temple. “You deserve to be taken care of after finally getting what you wanted.”

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

As you sip you water again, he grabs a towel from the dresser, and gently parts your legs again. His touch is slower now, deliberate, but no less confident. He wipes you down with care, checking your reaction with every motion, watching for discomfort.

He catches your gaze once, smirking at whatever expression you’re making. “Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, teasing. “You’re the one who wanted it inside.”

You let out a weak sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

His fingers press a little more firmly at your thigh, not sexual, just grounding. “Still with me?”

You nod.

“Good,” he murmurs, and leans in to place a kiss just above your knee. Then another on your hip. Then your stomach. Not tender, possessive. A little filthy, like a promise that he could do it all over again if you weren’t trembling already.

He pulls the blanket up, not too high, just enough to cover the heat cooling on your skin. He settles beside you, moving slowly like he’s careful not to jostle you. His arm comes over your waist, pulling you in gently, not possessive, not demanding. Just there. Anchoring. And the moment you let your head rest against his chest, he exhales like he’s been waiting for you to do that.

His fingers wander lightly over your skin, warm and steady, drawing lazy circles against your hipbone, then trailing up the line of your side. Over and over, same rhythm. Like he’s reminding your body that it’s safe now. That he’s still here.

You’re still flushed, still a little dazed, but he watches you like he’s tracking every breath. Not because he’s worried, but because he knows exactly what this moment means. This part. The calm after the wreckage. 

“You okay?” he asks, tone softer now. Not teasing.

You nod, your cheek pressed to his chest. “Mhm. More than okay.”

He hums, pleased. “Didn’t expect you to let go like that,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your shoulder without thinking. “You surprise me.”

You huff a quiet laugh. “Not sure that’s a compliment.”

“Oh, it is.” His mouth quirks at the edge, and he kisses the same spot again, just because he can. “You were good. So fucking good.”

You glance up at him, the daze still clinging to your lashes. Then, after a long beat, he smirks, voice dipping again into that familiar cocky charm.

“Responsive. Loud. The camera would love you.”

“Don’t get ideas,” you murmur, but you’re smiling, eyes closed now.

“Too late.”

And before you can roll your eyes or protest, he leans in again, presses a final kiss to your bare shoulder, and settles back, satisfied, smug, and still entirely himself.

***

Monday morning light filters softly through your window as you sit at your desk, fingers poised above the keyboard. The weekend had slipped away in a blur, days spent pouring over notes, replaying moments, shaping words into something honest.

Your column isn’t about the headlines, the shock factor, or the rumors swirling around Park Seonghwa. It’s about the man beneath the surface, the one who’s more than just a pornstar or a carefully crafted persona.

You write about his quiet moments, the way he listens, how he’s sharp and cocky but never cruel. You describe how his confidence is real, born from years of experience and knowing exactly who he is, not just the image he projects.

There’s a paragraph about his past struggles, how he battled his own demons, found sobriety, and reclaimed control over his life, a story of resilience rarely told in the industry he dominates.

You reflect on the subtle ways he cares, the small, almost invisible acts of kindness and attention he offers to those around him. How his cocky charm is layered with vulnerability, even if he’s the first to hide it.

With a slow breath, you hit send. The column goes live.

You feel a strange mix of relief and anticipation, this is more than just a story. It’s a reckoning, a quiet unveiling of someone you’ve come to know in ways no one else has.

The day passes at the office, and before you know it, it’s afternoon.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and push through the office doors, stepping into the late afternoon light. You start walking away from the building, the click of your heels echoing on the sidewalk. The buzz of the street pulls at you, but then, unexpectedly, a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

“Hey.”

You stop and glance over your shoulder. There he is, Seonghwa, leaning casually against the brick wall a few steps away. Black tank top, black pants, eyebrow piercing catching the light, and that wicked, confident smirk you know so well.

You try to hide the quickening of your heart.

“Hey” You raise an eyebrow, trying not to react. “You following me now?”

He pushes off the wall with a lazy kind of grace, hands in his pockets as he strolls toward you. “Would you be mad if I said yes?”

“I’d be impressed you admitted it.”

He chuckles, stopping in front of you, close, but not too close. “I read your column.”

Your heart skips, but you keep your tone cool. “Oh? Didn’t peg you as the literary type.”

His voice drops, amused. “Let’s see…” He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. “‘Park Seonghwa is more than what meets the eye,’” he begins, voice low and teasing. “‘Behind the piercing gaze and confident smirk is a man who understands what it means to be seen, truly seen, beyond the surface.’” He looks up, smirk widening. “That almost sounded sincere.”

“I have my moments.”

His smirk deepens. “And here I thought you just tolerated me.” He scrolls a little more, then reads with a wicked grin, “‘And maybe, that’s what makes him not just the best in his field, but someone impossible to forget.’”. He looks up at you. “Now I know that wasn’t for the readers.”

You flush slightly but play it off. “Believe it or not, I write for an audience. Not for your ego.”

He leans in just a little closer, eyes glinting with amusement. “Guess I’m not as bad as you thought, huh?”

You shrug, fighting a smile. “Maybe.”

That’s when he moves.

Slow, like he knows exactly how to set you off. He steps in, close enough that you have to tilt your chin slightly to keep eye contact. One hand comes up, fingertips skimming along your jaw, then drifting down the side of your neck. Light. Barely there. But very, very intentional.

His voice drops, velvet-soft. “So tell me this…” His thumb brushes under your jaw, coaxing your chin up just a touch. “Who’d you really write it for?”

You meet his gaze, lips twitching. “My editor.”

That smirk of his sharpens. “Mm. Liar.”

He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, lips hovering over yours. His hand cups your jaw, thumb tracing your cheek as if daring you to close the gap between you.

“Don’t think this is the end of the story, though. I like where this is headed,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with promise.

You don’t hesitate. Your confidence hums beneath your skin as you step forward, closing the last fraction of space. Your hand presses firmly against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

Leaning in, your lips brush just along the curve of his ear, a breathy, teasing whisper that drips with cocky challenge.

“Then keep up, pornstar.”

His breath catches, just for a second.

You pull back with a wicked smile, tapping his chest once before turning on your heel and strolling off like he didn’t just get flipped on his own script.

You don’t look back.

But you feel his stare, burning, amused, and turned on as hell.

And behind you, Seonghwa watches with a smirk tugging at his lips, eyes glued to your retreating figure.

Yeah. The story’s just getting good.

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[someonellly]

bite me.

⋆｡°✩

pairing: bang chan x fem reader

word count: 5K

contains: +18, rough sex, dom!chan, praise, possessiveness, LOTS of biting, bruises, nipple play, mentions of blood, light bdsm, oral (f rec.), fingering (f rec.), first unprotected sex (don't!!!!!), breeding kink, size kink, overstimulation (f rec.), slight choking. (I think that's it I honestly don't even know anymore)

authors note: english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in advance +++ requests are open! :)

⋆｡°✩

summary: What happens when you tell Chan he can go... harder?

🎧 » Bite Me — ENHYPEN «

0:37 ─〇───── 2:38

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

!!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!!

⋆｡°✩

You knew from the beginning that Bang Chan was careful with you.

He kissed you softly, held you like you were fragile. On your first night together, his hands trembled more than yours. He kept asking if you were okay, if it felt good, if he should slow down. You had never been touched so gently in your life.

But as the months passed, things changed.

It was in the way he’d grip your hips tighter than before, fingers digging into your skin like he was trying to hold himself back. The way his thrusts, once slow and deliberate, began to quicken, more raw, more desperate, like he was fighting against something building in him.

The second time you noticed it, you were on your knees, and he held your jaw just a little firmer, tilting your head up to look into your eyes. His voice had dropped. “You can take it, can’t you, baby?” It wasn’t quite a question. It was a challenge. You felt it like a jolt between your legs.

The third time, he left little bruises. Purple fingerprints on your thighs, your hips, even a faint mark on your neck where he had bitten down without realizing. You found them the next morning and stared at them in the mirror, blushing, breath catching in your throat.

You didn’t know you liked it this much. But you did. And he saw it too.

He started testing limits, every time a little more. He’d pin your wrists above your head with one hand and hold you down while whispering things he’d never said before. “You’re mine,” he growled once, voice ragged as he pounded into you.

But he always stopped just short. He’d slow down, kiss your forehead, ask if it was too much, even when you were writhing beneath him, desperate for more. You could tell he was still holding back, like he didn’t want to risk crossing a line you hadn’t drawn yet.

Until now.

He was above you again, his chest is heaving, his muscles tense with control. Your wrists are pinned once more, but he hasn’t moved yet. His eyes are searching your face for something, fear, hesitation, a sign to stop.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, voice barely holding steady.

You don’t look away.

It’s not too much. It hasn’t been for a long time.

"Chan..." you breathe.

He freezes, his grip loosens slightly, his expression shifting like he’s afraid he’s already crossed a line. You see it in the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches.

"You can go harder," you whisper, barely more than breath. "I want harder."

And it’s like something inside him snaps.

Not in anger, not in impatience, but in relief.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he says, voice low and wrecked, like the words had been trapped inside his chest for too long.

His fingers tighten around your wrists again, not too rough, but enough to make your heart race. His forehead presses against yours, and when he speaks again, it’s in that voice he only uses when he’s right on the edge, gravel and hunger and something that sounds suspiciously like worship.

“I think about it all the time,” he admits, hissing, breath hot against your skin. “How good you look underneath me… how much I want to ruin you.”

Your breath catches, and he notices.

“I hold back every time,” he continues, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, your neck, “because you look at me like I’m something good. Like I need to be careful with you. And God, I try. I really fucking try.”

His teeth graze your throat. You whimper.

“But you-” he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, and this time there’s no restraint. “You keep taking it. Every time I push a little more, you beg for more.”

“I-I like it,” you whisper.

He huffs a broken laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “You more than like it, baby. You need it. Don’t you?”

You nod, lips parted, dizzy with the way he’s looking at you, like he’s starving. Like you’re something he’s allowed to devour now.

“I could fuck you into this mattress right now,” he growls. “I could make you scream so loud the whole building hears. And you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

"Uhm," you gasp, already aching.

"Yeah?" He shifts his weight, pinning your wrists tighter, dragging his knee between your thighs and pressing it there, firm. “You want me to break you in half just to put you back together again?”

Your hips grind against his thigh, instinctive, needy. You’re already wet through your panties, and he knows it. His gaze drops briefly to your mouth, then lower, to where your bodies are nearly touching, to where his thigh has you rocking against him like you’ve forgotten how to beg properly.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he mutters. “All soft. All obedient. All mine.”

Your heart stutters.

“I’m not even inside you yet,” he breathes, voice tightening, “and you’re already falling apart.”

You nod, breathless, desperate. “Please…”

He groans, letting go of your wrists just long enough to yank your shirt up over your head, flinging it somewhere behind him. His mouth finds your collarbone, your chest, and when he sucks a mark just above your tit, hard, you moan, loud and unfiltered.

His hand cups your throat, tilting your head so he can see your eyes again.

“I want you to remember this,” he says darkly. “The moment you told me I could go harder. Because after this, I won’t be gentle.”

Your thighs tremble.

“I’ll fuck you the way I’ve been dreaming about,” he promises. “No more pretending. No more soft touches. You’ll feel it for days.”

"Yes—please, Chan—"

He crashes his mouth against yours, swallowing every broken sound you make, and you know: he’s really done holding back.

His mouth is on your neck like he’s been starving for it.

Teeth, tongue, lips, every part of him working in rhythm, pulling bruises to the surface like he’s painting you with proof that you’re his. You can feel the suction, deep and slow, and you know it’s going to leave marks. Big ones. Purple, maybe even red around the edges. Visible for days.

That thought alone makes your stomach tighten.

His hand’s still wrapped around your throat, holding, guiding, claiming, and the way he uses it to tilt your head just right, has you dizzy.

He moves lower, his mouth dragging along your collarbone, then biting,hard. You flinch, gasping, moaning.

“You… you want that?” he asks, voice rougher than before, chest rising and falling fast. “Even when it hurts?”

You nod slowly. “Especially when it hurts.”

He exhales like he’s just been punched in the stomach. And then he’s on you.

Not soft, not hesitant, this time, he’s hungry.

He captures your mouth in a kiss that’s messy and desperate, his teeth tugging your lower lip hard enough to sting. His hands are everywhere, palming your waist, dragging up your sides.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mutters, staring at your bare chest, licking his lips like he’s about to feast. “I’ve been dying to do this. Dying to leave marks on you. To make you all mine.”

He doesn’t wait for permission this time. His mouth latches onto the curve of your tit, hot and wet. He sucks, hard, deep, purposeful, and you cry out, your fingers flying into his hair. You feel it immediately: the sharp ache of blood rushing to the surface under his mouth, the burn of his tongue smoothing over the skin right after.

He pulls back to look at it, panting. The mark is already forming, dark and angry.

“Oh yeah,” he whispers, eyes heavy-lidded, lips slick. “That’s gonna be there for days.”

He moves lower.

His lips trail down your ribs, slow and deliberate, almost reverent. He mouths over the dip of your waist, then your stomach, warm, open-mouthed kisses that leave a slick heat in their wake.

Then he stops just below your navel.

You feel his breath first, hot and shallow against your skin. His hands settle on your hips, firm, thumbs stroking slowly, anchoring you in place.

“Right here,” he murmurs, eyes dark. “I’m gonna leave this one deep.”

Before you can even brace for it, he sinks his teeth into the soft skin just above your waistband, hard.

It’s sharp. Hot. The kind of pain that’s immediate and blinding. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your hands fly down to clutch his hair. His teeth are buried in your flesh, holding for a long, breathless second before he finally releases the bite.

And then he sucks, right over it.

Long, slow, and possessive, like he’s sealing it in.

“Fuck—Chan—” you gasp, trembling.

He pulls back to admire the mark. His eyes go wild.

The skin is already swollen, flushed, an angry red-purple blooming where his teeth broke the surface. A faint imprint of his bite remains, top and bottom rows, like a brand.

“You felt that, didn’t you?” he whispers, almost in awe, dragging his thumb just beside it. “You’ll still feel it tomorrow. Maybe longer.”

“Fuck—!” you nod, breathless. You’re not sure you could form words if you tried.

He freezes, licking over the spot he just bruised. “Did it hurt too much?”

You’re shaking, but not from fear. From the way your core is pulsing, wet and needy, from how your skin is singing with the mix of sting and heat.

You meet his eyes and shake your head. “No. It hurts, but, fuck, I really like it.”

And Chan, fuck, Chan moans. Just from that.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he groans, dragging his mouth back to the spot, pressing a gentle kiss right in the center of the bite. 

Then, quieter, more to himself than to you:

“You’re mine.”

He groans into your skin, like he’s the one falling apart.

“You don’t know what you do to me when you say shit like that,” he growls, crawling back up, pressing his forehead to yours. “You think I can handle you saying it hurts and you like it? You think I can stay in control?”

“Lose it for me.” you whisper. 

That’s it. That’s the end of his patience.

He grabs your thighs, spreading them wide, his hands sliding down to the backs of your knees. He drags you down the bed, closer to him, then bends low and bites the inside of your thigh, hard. You cry out again, your hips twitching, and he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss right over the sting.

“I’m gonna leave you covered in me,” he murmurs against your skin. “You won’t even be able to wear shorts without someone seeing what I did.”

He lifts your leg over his shoulder and starts kissing a trail up, bite, suck, soothe. Again and again. His mouth never leaves you unmarked. He doesn’t just want to make you feel it, he wants you to see it. To carry it.

By the time he’s halfway up your body again, your thighs are shaking. Your chest is covered in dark, blooming bruises, along your collarbone, between your breasts, under your ribs. He pauses to admire them, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glazed with lust.

“You look ruined,” he mutters. “And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He leans in and takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking, swirling his tongue, then biting down, not to hurt, just enough to make you squirm. Your fingers tug his hair harder than before, and he moans around you.

“You like that?” he rasps, moving to the other tit. “You like being marked up like this?”

“Yes,” you gasp, voice cracking. “I want to be yours.”

He growls, growls, low in his throat. His hips grind down, and you can feel him, hard and aching, through his sweats. You’re still half-dressed, but it doesn’t matter, he’s already made a mess of you.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t know where you end and I begin,” he pants. “You’re gonna feel me every time you breathe.”

He pulls back just enough to get a good look at you: flushed, marked, panting, open.

“You’re mine,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Louder.”

“I’m yours, Chan. Fuck. I'm all yours.”

He smiles. Not soft. Not sweet.

Possessive. Like a man who finally got permission to destroy.

“Good girl.”

And with that, he shoves your panties aside, drops his head between your thighs, and bites just beside your cunt, deep, mean, messy, before soothing it with his tongue. You scream.

But he doesn’t stop.

Not after the bite. Not after the way your whole body shudders under him. He’s licking into you now like he’s lost his mind, tongue hot, wet, filthy as it drags from your dripping entrance to your clit and back again. He groans against you, like the taste of you is making him high.

“Fuck—fuck, you’re so wet,” he pants between licks. “You’re soaked. Is this all for me, baby? I'm hurting you, and you're like this?”

You can’t even answer. You’re whimpering, writhing, grabbing fistfuls of his hair like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

He takes that as a yes.

He shifts, throws one arm over your stomach to pin you down, and goes in. His mouth is relentless now, flat tongue on your clit, then fast circles, then back to slow, cruel flicks that make your whole body twitch.

He knows what he’s doing. And he’s doing it like he wants to break you.

“That’s it,” he mutters, glancing up at you with slick lips and glazed eyes. “Take it. Let me fuck you with my mouth.”

His tongue dips back inside you, slow at first, then deeper, hungrier, groaning as he feels how tight you clench around nothing. Every sound you make spurs him on, he’s rutting against the bed now, grinding his cock into the sheets like he can’t take it anymore.

And then he sucks on your clit, and you see stars.

“Oh, f-fuck, Chan!” you cry out, hips bucking, voice raw.

Your whole body goes tight, tighter than it ever has. Your thighs clench around his head, locking him in place, your hands flying down to claw at the sheets, at his hair, at anything you can grab. Your stomach coils so tight it’s almost painful, your lungs forgetting how to breathe.

You don’t fall apart, you explode.

Your orgasm rips through you fast, hard, devastating. It seizes every inch of you. Your back arches violently off the bed, neck craning back as your mouth falls open in a silent scream, nothing but broken gasps and whimpers pouring out. Your legs are shaking, shaking, your core clenching so hard around the emptiness that it hurts.

White noise floods your ears. You can’t see. Can’t think. There’s only him, his mouth, his name, his hands gripping your thighs tight to keep you from writhing away.

And still, still, he doesn’t stop.

He groans low and filthy against your clit, tongue dragging through your slick like he can’t get enough of it, and the overstimulation hits you like a second wave.

You’re twitching now, legs jolting with aftershocks, body too sensitive but still desperate for more.

His hand moves between your legs now, two fingers slipping into you with ease, curling up perfectly while his mouth keeps working your clit. The sound of it is obscene, wet, messy, feral.

“Again,” he growls into you. “I want you to come again. Don’t hold back.”

You shake your head, your whole body already trembling. “I-I can’t—”

“Yes, yes you can.” His voice is low, coaxing but commanding. “You’re gonna come for me again, and then I’m gonna fuck you so deep you won’t remember anything but my name.”

He presses in deeper, fingers curling just right, hitting that spot inside you over and over. His mouth never leaves your clit.

And just like that, again.

Your second orgasm crashes over you before you can even brace for it. It’s sharp, electric, drawn out, your body jerking beneath him as you cry out his name over and over.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are glossy, chin soaked, eyes wild.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fuck. You’re shaking.”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then slips his fingers out slowly, watching the way your slick coats them, thick and shining.

“Wanna see how deep I can get now? You think you can take it?”

You nod.

And suddenly his mouth is on yours, messy, desperate, tasting like you, and he’s fumbling with his sweats, yanking them down just enough to free himself. You feel the weight of him against your thigh, hot and hard, twitching as he ruts forward once, like even that tiny bit of friction might be too much.

“Condom?” he grits out.

You shake your head. “I want all of you.”

His mouth falls open like he just short-circuited.

“Jesus fuck, baby…”

He fists himself once, twice, then lines up. You can feel it, the heat, the stretch, the pressure.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, really look at you.

You’re flushed, wrecked, still trembling from your orgasms, legs open and waiting for him. Your thighs are slick, inner skin shiny from his mouth and your release, and your chest rises and falls in rapid, shallow breaths.

He’s never seen anything more obscene. Or more beautiful.

Chan sits back on his knees for a second, breath ragged as he stares down at you, cock in his hand, thick, flushed, the tip angry and leaking. His abs are tight, his arms trembling just slightly as he fists himself once, slow and deliberate, thumb brushing over the head to smear the precum.

And for a moment, through the haze of need, you just look at him.

Look at the way his chest rises and falls, the way his jaw clenches when he strokes himself, the way sweat clings to the sharp lines of his body.

That’s when you see it.

Just beneath his collarbone, dark, blooming, unmistakable.

A mark.

Your mark.

A faint bite just below his throat, surrounded by a deep red bruise. You don’t even remember doing it. But there it is, evidence of your own desperation, your own need to have him.

Your breath catches, something primal blooming in your chest. He’s not the only one who’s left a claim tonight.

Chan catches the way your eyes fixate, the way your lips part like you’re surprised. He glances down at himself, then looks back at you, smirking.

“You like what you did to me?” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “Didn’t even notice, did you?”

You shake your head, dazed.

His smirk darkens. “Good. Now you know you’re not the only one getting ruined tonight.”

His eyes drag down your body again, greedy, hungry. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, head tipping back for a moment. “I’m not gonna last.”

His free hand grabs your thigh, spreads you wider, thumb pressing into the bruised skin he left behind. His fingers dip down, drag through your folds, collecting the mess he made of you.

“So wet,” he mutters, almost in disbelief. “You’re dripping. Open. Just… waiting for me.”

He strokes his cock again, slicking himself with you. The slide makes his eyes flutter shut for half a second, jaw clenched like he’s fighting for control.

When he lines up, you feel it immediately.

The heat of him. The blunt weight of his tip pressing against your entrance. The tension in your own body, tight and trembling with anticipation. You can barely breathe.

He pauses, right there, teasing your entrance, letting you feel exactly how big he is.

“You ready?” he asks, voice low and hoarse. “You sure?”

You nod, desperate, but he needs more.

“Say it.”

“God, Chan,” you breathe. “Just ruin me already.”

That’s all he needs.

Chan braces one hand on the mattress beside your head and starts to push in, slowly.

Just the tip at first. Then a few inches more. And then you clench around him, needy, wrecked, pulling him in deeper.

And Chan? He loses it.

With a broken groan, he thrusts in to the hilt, burying himself so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. The stretch burns. You cry out. His hands fly to your thighs, gripping hard, holding you wide open.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses. “So wet. So perfect. You’ll take me.”

He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.

And again.

And again.

Each thrust is rougher than the last, his body slapping against yours, the room filled with the sound of skin and moans and breathless curses. He leans over you, one hand buried in the mattress, the other gripping your throat, not squeezing, just holding.

“I want you to remember this,” he pants into your ear. “Remember how it feels when I fuck you like I own you.”

You do.

You will.

Because he’s not stopping until he’s ruined every inch of you.

He slams back in, hard. Deep. Like he means it.

And your world goes white.

You cry out, head thrown back, eyes rolling, the stretch and pressure tearing through you all over again. He’s big, and he’s not being gentle now, not after everything you’ve given him. He grabs your hips, holds you still, and fucks into you with all the restraint of a man gone feral.

“God, fuck,” he grits out. “You feel unreal-tight, perfect—mine.”

Every word is a growl against your throat, every thrust a full-bodied slam that knocks breath from your lungs.

You dig your nails into his back, helpless to do anything but hold on. But it’s not enough. Not anymore. You need more.

You have to leave something behind.

So you drag your nails down his back, hard. Deep enough to leave angry red lines in their wake. He hisses through his teeth, stutters in his rhythm.

But he doesn’t stop.

If anything, he fucks you harder.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “Scratch me. Bite me. Show me who I belong to.”

So you do.

You surge up and sink your teeth into his shoulder, right where the muscle curves into his neck. He chokes on a moan, hips jolting into you as your teeth press in, not enough to break skin, but damn near close. He pants into your hair, ragged, wrecked, his cock twitching inside you at the pain.

“Jesus,” he gasps. “You’re fucking insane.”

You bite again, lower this time, and he loses it. He grabs your thighs, yanks you flush against him, and starts driving into you so deep you swear you can feel him in your chest.

His skin is slick with sweat, and yours is too. Your nails dig into his shoulders now, clawing him with every thrust, every brutal roll of his hips. Your mouth is at his throat, sucking dark bruises into his skin, and when he moans, really moans, guttural and broken, it sounds like he’s falling apart.

“Look at you,” he breathes, forehead pressed to yours. “Fucking wild. You want to ruin me, don’t you?”

“uhm,” you gasp, you can't form words.

His thrusts get sloppy, desperate, hips slamming into you with the force of someone trying to lose themselves.

And he’s close.

So close.

You feel it in the way his whole body trembles above you, the way his abs tighten with every ragged breath. His hands are gripping your hips so hard you’ll bruise, holding you there, holding himself there, like he needs to anchor himself to reality before he flies apart.

But even through the wreckage, you know, he’s holding back.

He's chasing the high, teetering on the edge, but refusing to fall.

“Fuck—fuck—fuck,” he gasps, the word torn from his throat over and over, until it stops sounding like anything at all. Just noise. Just instinct. Just the only thing his brain can process while he’s buried to the hilt inside you.

His pace falters, fast, then slow, then fast again. He groans, moans, cries out like his body’s betraying him.

“I— I can’t—fuck, I wanna stay inside you, baby, wanna fuck you forever,shit, I’m gonna come—no—f-fuck—”

He’s not talking to you anymore. He’s talking to himself. Pleading. Cursing. Breathing so hard it sounds like he’s choking on air.

You cling to him, nails raking down his back again, and that does it, he whines, broken and guttural, a sound so raw it barely sounds human.

“Too good,” he gasps. “You’re too—too fucking good, I can’t—I can’t hold it—”

His head drops to your shoulder, lips dragging across your skin like he’s trying to ground himself, but he’s gone.

And you?

You’re not even there anymore.

Your body’s somewhere under him, sure, torn open and pulsing and so full, but your mind? Scattered. Your soul? Floating.

You can’t see. Can’t think. Can’t breathe without him.

He fucked you out of existence, and he’s still moving.

Still fucking into you like he’s trying to memorize how it feels. Like he thinks if he just keeps going, just a little longer, the moment won’t end.

But it’s slipping. He’s slipping.

His moans are constant now, breathy, panicked, pleading, like he’s begging for time, for control, for mercy.

But your walls clench around him again, tight and soaked and trembling, and he breaks.

It starts with a jolt, a sudden, electric snap that tears through your spine and locks every muscle in your body. Your toes curl. Your hands claw uselessly at his back, nails scraping red into his skin, anchoring yourself to him like he’s the only thing keeping you on earth.

Your thighs tighten around his waist, holding him in, because you need him there, deep, filling, grounding, as your body falls apart.

Your orgasm crashes over you in a brutal, burning wave, shaking you so hard your vision goes white. There’s no warning. No build. Just a violent release, raw and shattering. You hear yourself scream, sharp, desperate, the kind of sound that rips out from the chest, not the throat. Your back arches, chest pressing into his, mouth falling open in a silent cry that becomes a whimper, then a gasp, then nothing but frantic breaths. You can’t think. Can’t speak. You can barely feel the bed beneath you or the sweat slick between your bodies or the way your body jerks with every aftershock.

He fucks you through it, deep, slow, grinding now, not for rhythm, not for pace, but because he needs it. Because he needs to feel your cunt fluttering around him, clenching so tight he can barely move.

And you can feel him too, thick and twitching inside you, his moans ragged and feral in your ear, body shuddering as your orgasm drags him to the edge with you.

You’re gone. And you take him with you.

“Fucking hell,” he cries out, voice cracking. “I’m gonna—gonna fucking come—can’t stop—fuck—fuck—” he pants. “You want it? Want me to fill you up?”

“F-fuck, yes” you cry out. “Come inside me, Chan, please—”

And he does.

With a hoarse, broken moan, he drives into you one final time, hips pressed tight to yours, and spills into you, hot and thick and endless. He curses into your neck, every muscle in his body seizing as he empties himself deep inside you, shaking with the force of it.

You’re still holding him. Still scratching. Still biting.

He’s never felt anything like it.

You’ve ruined each other. 

And he’ll thank you for it.

The room is quiet now.

The only sound is your breathing, his and yours, tangled, ragged, slowly beginning to even out. His body is still draped over yours, heavy and warm, chest pressed to yours, skin slick with sweat.

You don’t move. You can’t.

You’re still shaking. Still clenching around him, sore and stretched and full, so full. You can feel him everywhere, under your nails, between your thighs, marked across your neck, leaking out of you in slow, warm pulses.

And him?

He hasn’t pulled out. Hasn’t even tried. He just breathes against your skin, arms wrapped tight around you, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

Eventually, he shifts, just enough to lift his head and look at you.

His eyes are glassy. Half-lidded. Barely focused.

But when he sees your face, your flushed cheeks, your kiss-bruised lips, the way your chest still rises like you’re trying to catch up to everything, he smiles.

Soft this time.

Gentle.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice wrecked. Barely more than a whisper.

You nod.

You can’t speak yet. Your throat is dry, your body boneless, mind still floating somewhere far above.

But you nod.

And that’s enough.

He leans down and kisses you. Not rushed. Not needy. Just a slow, reverent press of his mouth to yours, like a thank you. Like an apology. 

When he pulls back, he brushes your hair off your forehead, careful fingers trailing over your cheek, down your neck, over the marks he left. He winces a little, but doesn’t stop.

“You’re gonna be so sore,” he murmurs, thumb grazing one particularly dark bruise.

You manage a weak smile. “You too.”

And he laughs, quiet and breathless, forehead dropping to yours.

“Yeah,” he says, eyes fluttering shut. “Good.”

The room was silent for a sec. But then, Chan kept talking

"Now that you allowed me" he swallowed, "I want you to know there's much more I want to do to you. With you."

Your breath caught as he softly rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

"And you, baby... oh, you're gonna take it all. I know you will"

You took a breath, then said:

"Can't wait"

-

taglist @velvetmoonlght @anjian03 <3 (comment or dm me to be added)

+++ authors note: I'm obsessed with this man. I just fucking wrote 5k words of full smut like a mad woman about him. seriously, I should be locked down during ovulation. and plsplspls tell me if you want part 2?????

[someonellly]

F I R S T   B I T E

Vampire!Bang Chan x Reader | blood ritual, silk sheets, first time he finally takes you

🔞synopsis: You weren’t looking for luxury. You were looking for survival. But then he chose you—Bang Chan. Now you sleep in silk, eat like royalty, and bleed for him on schedule. He’s fed from you before. Gentle. Controlled. Ritualistic. But he’s never fucked you. Not once. Tonight, that changes. Because his hunger is showing. His eyes are black. And you’re in that dress he bought you. And when he finally takes his bite—he doesn’t stop there.

💌a/n: OK SO LISTEN 🩸 Yes. I know I answered an ask ages ago about how Chan is so rich. but for this series? i said fuck it. switched it up. because he deserves it. you deserve it. silk sheets and bite marks forever. also no, i’m not making profiles for every member. that’s boring and I’m busy making them FEED AND FUCK INSTEAD 😌 priorities. if you’re not bleeding and shaking by the end, did you even read it? 🔪💋✨ p.s. reblog if it ruined you. reblog if you whimpered. reblog if you said “oh.” out loud. p.p.s. more members coming next Wreck Me Wednesday! p.p.p.s. blood tastes better when it’s yours. ok bye 🖤

⚠️ warnings: 18+ / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | biting kink | marking kink | blood drinking as foreplay (and during) | fingering + grinding | overstimulation | breeding kink language (explicit) | “mine” possessiveness dialled to 1000 | choking (light, erotic) | mirror of praise + filth | power imbalance | luxury kink | ritualistic aftercare | cum, blood, and luxury bath oils

📌 Please read responsibly. Hydrate. Bleed pretty. Stretch.

🎧 » Criminal — Taemin « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:31 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

The idea of becoming a Blood Doll didn’t start as a fantasy. It started as a last resort.

You weren’t desperate. Just… cornered. By bills. By bruises you didn’t ask for. By nights too long and mornings that arrived with nothing but guilt and cold toast. Seoul was a city of glass towers and low shadows. You had lived in both.

You weren’t supposed to know about the Veil. About vampires. About what they offered behind silk-curtained doors. But you did. One overheard conversation in a blood clinic waiting room was all it took. A name passed like a secret. A dare:

“LUXE Health. If you’re lucky, someone will choose you.”

So you cleaned yourself up. Not for them. For you. You memorized their rules. Got the bloodwork done. Sold everything else. And when you finally arrived—dressed in borrowed black with lips bitten pink—you didn’t flinch.

Because somewhere beneath the hunger and the silence, you had a single thought: “If I’m going to belong to someone… make it him.”

You saw him before he saw you. Or maybe that’s just what you tell yourself now.

Bang Christopher Chan. The vampire who owns medicine. The one whose name is spoken in hushed reverence at trauma wards and whispered in moans between silk sheets.

Abnormal. Born, not turned. The kind of vampire the Veil fears because they cannot predict him.

He didn’t need to feed from you that night. He didn’t even touch you. Just read your file, looked into your eyes, and said—

“You’ll do.”

Not cruel. Not kind. Just… certain. And that certainty rewired you.

That was three months ago.

Now, you live on the top floor of a private Luxe facility in Gangnam. You don’t work. You don’t pay. You just exist—dripping in silk, gliding past glass, touched only by magic and occasionally by him.

You eat better than royalty. Your scent is monitored for health. Your sheets are laundered daily in blood-neutral detergent. Every book you ever mentioned liking? It's in your room. Your bath oils are imported. Your wardrobe is measured by hand.

But he hasn’t fucked you. Not once. Not yet. He’s fed. God, has he fed.

The first time, you thought you’d die from how soft he made it. The second time, you wanted him to bite deeper. The third time? You whimpered his name. He smiled, lips wet, but didn’t take you. Not then.

And yet—he gives.

A diamond choker with a spell-lock that hums when you're near danger. A dress you only wore once, now preserved in a glass case because he liked how you looked in it. Shoes hand-delivered from a Paris atelier, dyed to match the undertone of your skin. Perfumes keyed to his scent.

He gives like a man who has everything—except you.

Tonight, you had been his date. A Veil-chartered event in an underground gallery beneath Itaewon. Not that you paid much mind, except the fact that you stood by him looking all pretty, dressed by him.

And now? Now you’re back in the penthouse.

Your heels click across imported stone. You’ve just slipped off your earrings when you feel it—the hum in the walls. The signal. Feeding hour.

He’s never missed one.

You turn, heart already pounding.

He’s in the doorway. Loosened collar. No tie. Silver watch still on his wrist. And his eyes…

Black.

“Sit,” he says, voice silk-dark.

And you do, because God, you always obey.

He crosses the room like a secret unfolding—measured, lethal, beautiful. His gaze never leaves yours. Not even as he loosens the first button of his shirt. Not even as he sheds his jacket and drapes it over the back of a chair. The air shifts around him—cooler, heavier. The scent of cedar and clove curled in hunger.

You sit where he wants you. On the edge of the fainting couch, legs pressed together beneath silk that still smells like his cologne. Your lipstick is still intact. Your throat bare. The pulse at your neck, traitorous.

He kneels in front of you.

Not like a man worshipping. Like a vampire calculating.

His fingers brush your ankle, sliding upward in a touch so light it’s almost imagined—up the line of your shin, over your knee, until he’s nudging the hem of your gown higher, just enough to settle between your legs, kneeling. Commanding.

He doesn't speak right away. Just watches you.

Eventually, he reaches for your wrist. Not to feed.

Just to hold. “You're warm.”

You nod, breath shallow. "I always am. After we go out."

Something flickers across his face. Amusement? Possession?

He leans forward. Mouth hovering over your neck. Not touching. Just breathing. "Do you want the bite here?"

"Yes."

He doesn’t kiss you. He doesn’t ask again. He bites.

You gasp. His fangs are surgical. Smooth. Deep. You feel it in your blood, in your thighs, in the way your dress shifts against your hips as your whole body arches toward him.

It’s not pain. It’s pressure.

One of his hands at your waist, the other on your thigh, grounding you as he drinks your sweet blood in slow. His tongue flicks once. Just once. Over the wound.

And that’s what makes you whimper.

His groan is almost inaudible. Almost. He drinks a little deeper.

You clutch the shoulder of his shirt and try to stay still—but you can’t. You shift. You rub your knees together. You tilt your head further back like it’ll coax more of him out, like it’ll make him—

He stops. Pulls back. Blood on his lips. Collarbone flushed. Hands tighter now.

You’re panting.

"You should rest."

But he doesn’t mean it. Because his eyes are still black. And his cock is hard under his trousers. And you’re still in that dress he picked—silk, slit high, neckline low enough for his teeth to dip beneath.

“You’re still hungry,” you whisper.

He says nothing. But his hand slides higher up your thigh. Just barely. Just enough.

“Feed again,” you murmur.

He exhales. Shaky. Like he’s fighting something ancient. “If I feed again,” he says, voice wrecked, “I won’t stop.”

Your reply is immediate. “I don't want you to stop.”

His hand grips your thigh harder.

A beat. Two. And then—he snaps. His mouth crashes to yours like it’s the only law he’s ever obeyed.

Hot. Wet. Starving.

There’s no finesse. No restraint. Just tongue and breath and blood—your blood—smearing between your lips as he kisses you like he’s waited centuries. You taste iron and cedar and the slick salt of him groaning into your mouth.

His palm slides up your spine, yanks you forward. You gasp. He swallows it. You moan. He deepens it. Your fingers claw at his shirt, dragging it open, buttons scattering somewhere onto the marble.

“Chan—”

“Shut up,” he growls, biting your bottom lip, licking where it splits. “I told you. I won’t stop now.”

You don’t want him to.

Because you can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can’t survive if he doesn’t keep kissing you like that—like he’s drowning in you and wants to take you under with him.

He stands, dragging you up with him, your body flush to his. His hands on your ass, gripping through silk. You feel him—hard and heavy—pressed against your stomach. You grind against him. Shameless. He groans into your mouth like you just handed him your soul.

“On the bed,” he rasps, voice ruined.

You don’t walk. You stumble. He follows, eyes black, jaw clenched, pupils blown so wide you swear they swallow the moonlight.

Three steps from the bed, you spin and grab him by the open collar of his shirt—what’s left of it—and pull.

Hard.

He stumbles with you, low grunt in his throat, and you fall back onto the sheets like gravity’s been waiting for this moment.

Silk against your spine. Chan above you, braced on trembling arms. His shirt ripped wide open from your fingers, chest heaving. Eyes on your lips before leaning in again. Lips on your own. Tongue hot and deep, one hand gripping your jaw like he wants to brand his name there.

His knee shoves between your thighs and you start grinding against it. Moan into his mouth like a sinner under oath.

Your dress slips off one shoulder and of course he notices and his mouth leaves yours—trailing fire down your throat, tongue flicking the half-healed bite on your neck. You arch like a live wire. He sucks. You cry out. And then he speaks against your skin.

“You don’t understand what you’ve just done,” he rasps, voice shaking. “Letting me kiss you. Letting me taste it from your lips…”

He presses his forehead to your collarbone. His breath shudders. So does your body. “I’ve waited,” he says. “I’ve waited—every night. Let you heal. Let you rest. I was good.”

He lifts his head. Stares down at you. “But now you’ve ruined that.”

His hand slides under the slit of your dress. Fingers ghost over your inner thigh. He groans. "Fuck, you're so wet baby."

You whimper.

He leans down again, nose brushing your jaw, lips grazing your ear—

“One more bite,” he whispers. “Then I fuck you. And I don’t stop until your blood knows who it belongs to.”

"Please." You say. Desperate for it.

Chan's lips press against your shoulder, just below the dip of silk where your dress has fallen. He's slow, gentle, taking his time. Before finally, he bites and you gasp, sharp and wrecked.

His fangs in slowly this time. Not like earlier. No urgency. This bite is...savouring.

You clutch the sheets, back arching as he feeds again—mouth latched to your skin, tongue lapping slowly between pulses. Every draw pulls heat to your core. Every sound he makes against your skin echoes between your thighs.

And then you finally feel his hand parting your legs more, fingers brushing over your already soaked panties. You twitch and he groans into the wound.

"Dropping," he murmurs, mouth still on your flesh. "From being bit."

His fingers slip beneath the fabric. Contact. He traces the seam of your folds with two fingers before running them up again, pressing into your just enough to make your hips holt.

You moan out. That moan ripped straight from the center of you.

He chuckles darkly. Fangs still buried. Your blood on his tongue. Your cunt in his palm.

"So sweet," he growls. "Every part of you."

His thumb starts to circle that bundle of nerves. Not fast. Not hard. Just deep, tight pressure—rhythmic, possessive, hypnotic.

You’re panting now. Writhing. Your blood still feeding him as he works you from below.

His free hand grabs your thigh, pinning it open. “This pussy’s been waiting for me,” he hisses, licking over the bite again. “Wet and so so perfect for me.”

Two fingers thrust inside and your head snaps back. A choke moan spills out. You feel everything.

“Say it,” he demands, pulling back from your shoulder, licking the wound clean. “Say who owns you.”

“Y-You—fuck—Chan, it’s you—”

“Say it properly.”

His fingers curl just right.

“You own me,” you cry. “You own all of me—*fuck—*please don’t stop—”

“I told you,” he pants, mouth against your lips again, hand fucking you slow and deep, “I’m not stopping tonight.”

Chan finally pulled back, slowly. Fangs retracting from your skin. Mouth now painted with your blood again. He looks wrecked. Hair falling into his eyes. Chest rising like a storm's behind it. But his fingers? They've started fucking into you, a slow pace.

He sits back on his heels between your thighs, one hand fucking deep, slow, curling into that spot that makes your breath catch and your thighs twitch. The other hand trails up your waist until it cups your breast through the fabric. His thumb brushes over your nipple.

“Aw, look at you,” he coos, voice soaked in dark heat. “Dripping for me. Can feel it, baby girl.” His fingers move faster now—tight little thrusts that make your cunt clench, soak, squeal.

“You gonna cum?”

“Yes—yes, I—”

“I can feel it,” he growls. “All that sweetness pulling around my fingers. Fuck—so tight. So fucking good for me.”

He leans over, tongue lapping at the blood smeared down your clavicle while he finger fucks you harder. “That’s it. Let go. Be good. Cum on my hand.”

You cry out—knees jerking, hands clawing at the sheets, your entire body arching as heat snaps. Your orgasm crashes through you. But Chan doesn’t stop. Not until you’re trembling under him, cunt pulsing around his fingers, thighs soaked and twitching.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “You give so fucking much. You always do.”

He pulls his fingers out slow, watching the mess string between you.

Then—finally—his hands go to your dress. He peels it off of you, revealing every inch of your body to his hungry eyes. "Now," he murmurs, eyes dark again. "Now I take what's mine."

You barely catch your breath before you hear it—

The sound of his belt unbuckling.

Fast. Sharp. Desperate. He’s done waiting. His slacks fall in seconds. Boxers shoved low. His cock now in full view. Heavy, thick, veins pulsing. He is already flushed, the tip angry red and dripping.

Your mouth parts in awe. Your cunt clenches in instinct. “Look at you,” he breathes, crawling back over you, cock resting hot against your thigh. “Already shaking… and I haven’t even put it in yet.”

He grabs himself—gives one slow stroke, tip dragging along your folds as he lines up. You feel the heat of it.

“You want it?” he rasps.

“Yes. Please—”

“Then take it.”

And he pushes in. Slowly, gently, wanting to savour the feeling of your walls around his cock. You arch with a cry—eyes wide, fingers scrambling to hold onto something. But it’s no use. You’re being split. He’s so thick, and the stretch is perfect—too perfect. Your pussy tightens around him like velvet glove, and he groans low, forehead dropping to yours.

“Fuck, baby girl—so fucking tight—so good for me—”

He bottoms out.

One perfect grind of his hips. You feel everything. But he doesn't move yet, his hips flushed with yours.

"You take me so well," he whispers. "This pussy was made for me. You were made for me."

You whimper, breathless.

"Please—move—”

"I can. Remind me, who do you belong to baby?"

"You—you, Chan—fuck, I’m yours—”

"Good girl." he whispers. Pulling back and then slamming back in. Hard. Deep. Merciless. His thrusts picking up pace. Harder into you. Your body jerks up over the bed. He grabs your waist, pulls you back onto him.

Over and over.

The sound is obscene—skin on skin, soaked and slick. Your name is gone. All that exists is his name—Chan, Chan, Chan—echoing from your mouth, screamed into sheets, licked from your lips by the man breaking you open.

“You feel that?” he grits, fucking you deep, jaw clenched. “That’s mine. This body. This blood. This fucking cunt—”

He slaps your thigh. You moan.

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours—yours, yours, yours—”

He groans—fucks you harder. At least for a few more thrusts until he moves again. Shifts. Flips you over. Fast. Rough. Hands firm under your hips. One sharp drag and your body turns beneath him—your chest to the sheets, ass up, knees wide on instinct.

You gasp, caught off guard by the dominance of it. And he just laughs—low, filthy, feral.

“That’s better,” he growls behind you. “Now I can really fucking feel you.”

His hand spanks your ass and you jolt.

Chan drags his cock through your slick folds again. Lining himself up. "Stay still," he commands. "Take it.£

And he thrusts back in. Hard. Deep. Full.

You scream. Into the pillow.

He fills you so completely from this angle, cock hitting new spots you didn’t know existed. And when he grinds in deep—stays there—you feel your whole body shudder.

Chan's hand moves into your hair. Fisting it and yanking your head back just enough that you arch for him. And the other hand? It wraps around your throat.

"You look so pretty like this," he hisses into your ear. "Open. Dripping. Mine."

He starts moving again—fucking you slow and rough, every stroke long and deep and perfectly angled. You’re choking on moans now—your own breath caught in your throat where his hand rests, light but threatening. Possessive.

“You gonna cum again?” he pants, hips slamming into you. “Gonna soak me like a good little blood doll?”

You nod—whimper—beg.

“Say it,” he growls.

“I—I’m gonna cum—fuck, Chan, please—”

“That’s right,” he snarls. “Do it. Let go.”

He pulls your hair harder. His cock slams deeper. And you shatter. Second orgasm—harder than the first—slams through you like lightning. Your whole body convulses, cunt pulsing around him so tight he groans, slams in deeper, loses rhythm—

“Fuck.”

He lets go of your throat. Pushes you flat to the bed, still buried inside you.

And then? He pulls out—panting, ruined—and flips you again.

“We’re not done,” he breathes. “Not until I fill you.”

You’re breathless. Sprawled on the sheets on your back again after being flipped. Skin flushed, throat kissed red, thighs sticky and trembling.

But he’s not done.

Chan climbs over you again—eyes black, cock still hard, soaked with your slick and heat and ownership. He grabs your legs, lifts them, pushes them up high over his shoulders.

You whimper. He growls.

“One more,” he rasps. “You’re gonna take one more.”

And then he thrusts back in. His thrusts never easing up, except this time instead of being fast, they're harder, deeper. Hitting deep inside your pretty dripping cunt.

Your legs tremble where they rest on his shoulders, your hips arching up instinctively to meet his every thrust. He’s so deep now—your cunt swallowing every inch, fluttering around him like it already misses him when he pulls back.

“So tight,” he pants, sweat dripping from his jaw as he fucks into you. “So full. You feel that?”

He leans down—body folding over yours, pressing you into the bed. You gasp at the intensity—your knees practically touching your ears, your body caged beneath him. And before you know it, his mouth finds your throat again. Not the old bite. No.

This time it's lower. Right over your pulse. A new mark. A new claim.

He sinks his fangs in—again. But this time? He cums. At the same fucking moment.

You feel it—his cock twitching deep inside you, spilling into you with a primal, guttural growl against your skin. His hips still grind as he pumps you full, fucking it deeper, deeper, until your stomach coils from the pressure and the heat and the ache.

“That’s it,” he pants against your skin. “Take it. All of it. I’m gonna fill you—mark you—fuck it so deep into you it'll leak all night.”

He’s still feeding, slow now—tongue lapping, lips suckling, like your blood is the final part of the ritual.

And you? You’re crying his name.

“Chan—Chan—fuck—yes—yours—”

He lifts his head, face painted with blood and victory and crashes his lips onto yours.

Wet. Possessive. Full of cum and blood and everything he is.

“Good girl,” he whispers, against your swollen lips. “My good little blood doll.”

He pulls out—slow. Your thighs twitch. His cum leaks from between them. He watches it, chest heaving, and smirks before his eyes move on to you. Eyes no longer black, but softer now, sparklier. You’re wrecked beneath him, trembling and flushed, marked in blood and sweat and cum.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, fingers ghosting up your thigh. “You took me so well.”

You try to speak. Can’t. All you can do is breathe—shaky, grateful, undone. He leans down. Presses one kiss to your cheek. Another to your temple. Then the curve of your throat where your blood still lingers.

“You’re okay,” he whispers, so gentle it nearly makes you cry. “You’re mine now. And I take care of what’s mine.”

He moves with eerie speed after that, but never rushes you. One moment he’s gone, and the next—he’s back.

A warm cloth in his hand. Something for your bite marks. A glass of cold water. A square of dark chocolate—your favourite.

“Small sugars after feeding,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Prevents dizziness. Helps the body remember pleasure.”

You nibble it, fingers weak. He watches every movement like it’s precious.

Then he scoops you into his arms. You’re already drifting—high on oxytocin, on safety, on the way he smells like expensive oud and dark cherry blood.

“Where are we going…?” you murmur.

“Bath,” he says, already striding down the marble hallway. “You’re not sleeping with my cum leaking down your thighs onto silk sheets."

You huff a laugh into his chest. "Didn't you say you wanted me to leak all night?"

"I don't remember that. I never said that." But Chan is smiling, dimple smile and his ears are red.

In the bathroom, he takes the time to set you down on the edge of the tub gently while he takes care of filling it up with warm water, adding in jasmine oils. Whilst the tub fills up, Chan steps back to undress fully now, taking off that ripped shirt off.

By the time the tub is filled up, Chan makes sure to ease you in the tub, hands firm yet gentle before sliding in behind you and pulling your back to his chest, arms wrapping around your waist.

"You did so well tonight," he says softly, mouth brushing your shoulder. "I told you id' take care of you."

You nod. Too relaxed to speak.

His fingers draw idle shapes over your stomach, over the curve of your breast, over the softest parts of you that no one else touches.

“Sleep here, if you want,” he whispers. “Stay here. Forever.”

You simply relax, your head against his shoulder, eyes fluttered closed, breathing steady. "Mmm...forever." you murmur.

And Chan leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head.

“Forever,” he echoes. “Mine.”

🏷️ taglist: @cybergracie , @jupitermarss , @basicginn , @dhvnigvil , @emkvlixsx , @collin-thegreat , @somuchpanicverylittledisco , @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie

[someonellly]

☆ ａｂｏｕｔ ａ ｇｉｒｌ☆

☆ Pairing: rockstar!best friend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader

☆ Genre: rocker au/smut/fluff/friends to lovers

☆ Word Count: 4.4k

☆ Summary: During a late night hang out session your innocent request to color in your best friend's tattoos leads to a revelation about the not so platonic feelings you've held for him. Mingi's a rockstar. One of the best guitarists there is. Every boy you know wants to be him and every girl you know wants to be on top of him. In your eyes, the odds that his feelings are mutual are slim to none but a girl's gotta be wrong sometimes.

☆ Warnings: heavily tattooed mingi, he has a tongue piercing too, bestie wooyoung pops in to stir shit up, drug use (just weed), body worship, dry humping, female masturbation, marking, some soft dom mingi moments, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, spanking, nibbling, scratching, unprotected sex, his dick is kinda (very) big, doggy style, squirting, creampie, pet names (baby, good girl), affectionate use of the word whore (towards Mingi).

☆ A/N: Rockerteez has a special place in my heart, especially rocker Mingi, so I absolutely had to write something for him. I hope this satisfies something for all of my chubby alt girls out there who crush on this man just as hard as I do. Love you guys xoxo byeee.

Mingi can’t say no to you. It’s been that way since the beginning of your friendship. Craving ice cream in the middle of the night? He’ll drive you to every convenience store in a 10 mile radius just to make sure you get the flavor you want. You want tickets to a sold out concert for your favorite band? He’ll pull every string he can behind the scenes to make sure you get them.

You’ve turned into a brat, spoiled rotten to the core, and he can only blame himself for it. Tonight might’ve been the night that he stood up to you if you didn’t look so adorable making the silliest request he’s ever heard. 

You were standing at the edge of his bed rocking nothing but a baggy Linkin Park tee you stole from his drawer and a pair of black panties not meant to impress but cute all the same. Your cheeks were still stained with glitter from tonight’s concert and remnants of smeared mascara lingered in the wake of some discount makeup wipes that didn’t quite do the trick. 

“Just let me color in your tattoos. Like this, see?” You held your phone up to his face, his nose a fraction of an inch from the screen where a girl was busy coloring in the free space of her boyfriend’s tattoos. 

Mingi had been lying on his back, scrolling his own phone as he patiently awaited your return from the kitchen. Snacks. You were supposed to bring back snacks, not a fistful of random markers you found in the kitchen drawer and some impulsive idea you got from Tiktok. 

“No. I’ll get skin cancer or something” he huffed, rolling his eyes and flopping back down on the bed. 

“Oh, because you’re so concerned about your health” you teased, eyeing the shiny chrome vape pen perched between two plush rosy lips. 

Mingi casually drew in a breath, letting the peach infused smoke fill his lugs. “THC is healthy. Whatever the fuck’s in those isn’t.”

Clearing your throat, you hopped onto the bed, spreading the markers out to inspect. “Actually, these are vegan markers so they’re safe. It’s basically the rules, so…let me do it.”

“No…” he started but you were already pouting, your eyelashes batting away fake tears. It was a cheap trick to pull, especially when you know how it always gets to him, but it worked.

“Fine but you’ve got 15 minutes. That’s it.” 

You wasted no time climbing on top of him, popping the caps of the markers off and getting straight to work. Lucky for you Mingi has more tattoos than free skin on his chest. Even luckier, he has zero ability to track time.

An hour’s passed and you’re still here, straddling his lap and doodling away. You hum along to the song on his record player. It’s a vaguely familiar tune, some alt rock album that dropped before Mingi even hit middle school. 

Mingi’s yet to admit it—he actually hasn’t said a word to you since you started—but this is the most relaxed he’s been in the longest time. Everyone thinks that being in a band is one big party. The tours. The magazine spreads. The concerts. The groupies. But there’s more to it than that. Being an artist takes from you in ways the rest of the world couldn’t imagine. Something about sharing this time with you gives a little bit of that back to him. 

He steals a glance at you, eyes flicking back to his phone before you catch him in the act. You’re pretty. Not the disposable kind of pretty that you admire for one night and forget about when the alcohol wears off in the morning. You’re the irreplaceable kind of pretty. The kind that’s too pure to pursue but too precious to let slip out of his reach.

Your friendship’s never been for show. The bond he has with you—the love he feels—all of it’s genuine. But he can’t say there’s nothing else so he says nothing at all. He just lies here, your human canvas, enjoying the feeling of your weight in his lap and your soft hands brushing against his skin. 

“I’m running to the store. You want something?” Wooyoung asks, bursting through the door. 

It’s a house rule that all bandmates knock before coming in but Wooyoung’s never been one to care. His room is his room and everyone else’s room is his too.

“My bad, am I interrupting something?” 

You and Mingi’s heads turn towards the door in unison and your reactions are are identical. “Something like what?”

Wooyoung cracks a smile, tickled by you two syncing up like bluetooth headphones. “You tell me. I’m not the one who has their best friend in cowgirl right now.” 

A marker goes flying across the room at him and he dodges it like a pro. “It’s not like that and you know it’s not” you say, pretending not to know what a lie that is.

It’s not an outright lie. It’s nothing, it truly is, but you can’t ignore what this position’s been doing to you. Mingi’s a gorgeous man. Gorgeous enough to make you wish you were just another groupie some days. It’s inevitable that your vicinity to him might leave your pulse racing now and then. Maybe get you a bit wetter than anything the natural warmth of your body could do. You feel a twinge of guilt for it but not nearly enough to get up. 

“If it’s not like that then what’s it like?” Wooyoung presses, paying no mind to the growing frustration on his bandmate’s face. Mingi’s pisssed but that’s never stopped Wooyoung before. 

“It’s like you getting out of my room” Mingi snaps, “Where’s San? Doesn’t one of you die if you aren’t attached at the hip 24 hours a day?”

Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow, arms folded across his chest, “You should talk.”

“Woo, I’m serious. Mingi and I are just friends. That’s it. You see the type of girls who wait for him backstage. Do any of them look like me?” 

Your question’s met with silence from both men. They share a knowing glance. Wooyoung knows something you don’t and Mingi dares him to open his mouth unless he wants to die. 

“Didn’t think so” you gloat, getting back to your coloring, “I will take something from the store though. Some chips please. My usual. Want something, Min?”

“Just for him to get out of my room. Quickly.” 

“Got it. Chips for the lady and for the gentleman…” Wooyoung flips Mingi off as he backs out of the room.

Mingi returns the gesture, “I love you too!”

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head at their immaturity. On stage all anyone sees are the piercings and the tattoos. They think that they’re edgy…bad boys. But they’re dorks through and through. Ones you’re happy to be around but dorks nonetheless. 

“And what’s so funny?” he frowns, propping himself up on his elbows. 

Tossing your marker aside, you trade it out for the vape resting at Mingi’s side. You take a puff, leaning forward to blow the smoke right into his face. “You.”

Mingi does nothing. He only sits there letting the smoke dance across his face. You’ve done a lot of hot things since the two of you’ve met and that was without a doubt one of them. You’re on top of him, your back arched, plush thighs caging him in on each side. No bra. No pants. And that face—those lips so dangerously close to his. 

A long moment passes between you. The silence adds another layer of tension to what each of you has already been hiding. 

“Just because they wait for me backstage doesn’t mean they’re my type” he says, catching you off guard. 

It takes a second for you to register what he's said and when you do your brain short circuits. “Min, I mean…I wasn’t…it doesn’t matter.”

Mingi cocks his head, strands of platinum hair falling into his face. “What do you think my type is exactly?” 

You sit back up in his lap, taking another puff to calm your nerves. “I don’t know but last I checked you didn’t have a fat girl fetish.”

“It’s not a fetish.” Mingi pushes himself up to face you, refusing to let you run away so easily. His gaze trails over you like fingertips tracing your curves. “I just like what I like and what I like happens to be girls with some meat on their bones. Is that okay with you?”

Brushing off his comment, you place a hand on his chest to push him back down. “You’re being weird.”

He doesn’t budge. He just stares into your eyes, searching for whatever it is that you’re fighting so hard to keep hidden from him. He knows it’s there. It’s in the way your black nails are nervously drumming against his chest. It’s in the shortness of your breath and the subconscious rocking of your hips in his lap. But he wants to see it in your eyes. He needs to. 

“Is that the only reason then?” he asks, slipping an arm around you, “You think nothing’s happened between us because of your body? Which is beautiful by the way.”

You blush, playfully swatting him on the cheek, “Stop. It’s not just that. You and I, we're friends, that's it. Even when you say stuff like that to tease me, I know you only see me as a friend.”

“And what do you see me as?” His voice is deep on any regular day but the way it dips when he asks the question has a bass to it that has you sweating. 

You stumble on your words, fighting to make sense of the alphabet soup that is your brain. You don’t work for the CIA. You weren’t prepped to hold up to interrogation. That’s exactly what this feels like because that’s exactly what this is. Mingi wants an answer, a clear one, and you know better than anyone that when he locks in on something he never backs down. 

“You’re someone who means to me, Min. Someone I’d rather not lose by thinking something’s there when it’s not…”

You have more to say but you can’t for the life of you remember what it was after Mingi’s lips collide with yours. He lays back, finally, and he takes you with him, your body flush against his as he kisses you with a hunger you didn’t know he possessed.

It’s a wild, breathless kiss. It’s wet lips and little nibbles, tongues intertwining and fingers tangling in hair. There’s no more holding back. No reason to pretend that you don’t want what both of you have all along. It’s a relief for Mingi who's been quietly going through hell for the past hour trying not to get hard with you seated on top of him. 

He thought of everything he could to ignore how good it felt to have you resting against his length but now all he can think of is you. It’s dizzying how quickly all of the blood in his body rushes between his legs, his length swelling as he takes greedy handfuls of your figure. You shiver the first time you feel him, a moan as light as air leaving your lips. 

“Where’d that come from?” you giggle, hips rolling to chase the friction. 

Mingi pushes you onto your back, lips latching onto your neck before you even hit the mattress. 

His hands dip beneath your borrowed shirt. It’s one of his favorites but right now he can’t stand the sight of it. He needs to feel the smoothness of your bare skin…feel your curves give beneath his touch. 

“You want some more?” he asks, dragging his tongue across your skin, igniting you like a match.

“Oh, fuck, yes…” you moan at the pressure of his fingertips massaging your breast.

He brushes his thumb across your nipple and it stiffens as if on command. Your whole body’s calling out his name—screaming it—begging for his attention. Mingi presses down onto you, his cock throbbing like a heartbeat against your core with every grind of his hips. Moisture trickles down your slit, soaking your panties to the point of uselessness.

You can’t say it's ever crossed your mind to dry hump a rockstar but thanks to Mingi it’s quickly become your new favorite thing. You could lay here all night moaning and whimpering, making a sticky mess all over his sweatpants while he marks your neck up like you’re his property. Well, maybe not all night. Your mind’s already flooded with thoughts of how badly you need him inside you. Good thing he doesn’t intend to make you wait much longer. 

“This shirt, take it off” he demands, already tugging it up your figure.

Mingi climbs onto his knees, sitting back to give you the room you need to slip the shirt over your head. He can’t tell where it lands, he doesn’t really care. All that matters to him is that there’s a goddess lying between his legs, one ruined pair of panties away from being completely naked. He lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. You’re a gift so perfectly designed to suit his every desire that he must be dreaming. 

“What’s wrong, Min? Never seen a naked girl before?” you tease, your nervous laughter triggering something in him. 

Mingi’s expression darkness like you’ve only seen it when he’s deathly serious about something. “Not like this…” he says, his hands patiently exploring your body, savoring every part of you. “And you thought you weren’t my type? When you’re this pretty—your cute belly, those stretchmarks, these thighs—you think I haven’t worshipped you since the day I met you?”

He pushes your knees up just enough to slip your panties down, “I remember Yunho brought you backstage after the show. You had on those heels and that tiny leather skirt. You were so fucking pretty and all I could think was, ‘I wonder what it’d be like to have those thighs around my neck’. You gonna let me find out?”

Mingi spreads your legs, running his fingers through your glistening pussy. His fingers are coated in seconds, so shiny and wet with your arousal that they slip inside of you effortlessly. He crawls onto his stomach, licking his lips as his fingertips stroke your walls. 

“Aah…mmph…Mingi” you whine, gripping the sheets as he adds another finger.

“I like the sound of my name but that’s not an answer, baby. I need you to tell me.” He licks the tip of your clit, his silver tongue piercing glinting in the light as he teases you, “Can I eat your pussy or you want me to beg for it?”

“No begging. Just fucking do it.” 

Mingi doesn’t need to be told twice. He buries his face between your legs, suckling and slurping, eating you up like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have. Your thighs slip over his shoulders and he grabs onto them with both hands, kneading their softness as his tongue dips into you. You try to keep it together but you’re  too sensitive to control how much you tremble when he laps at the ridges of your walls.

You grab him by the hair, not guiding him, just feeling him. You don’t know if it’s the drugs or the way his tongue’s swirling around inside you but it’s like you're floating. Your body’s buzzing with pleasure and when he reaches up to pinch your clit you’re on the verge of falling to pieces. 

And that’s right where he keeps you, dancing on the edge of complete ruin. Occasionally he glances up at you, not caring now if you catch him looking. He wants to see you…wants you to see him. You lock eyes and he hums his satisfaction at every pretty face you make.

A mentor once told him that every girl’s a guitar. You’ve just gotta pay enough attention to know how to tune her. A skilled musician if nothing else, Mingi knows how to tune you just right. He knows which dials to turn to make you sing. He’s strumming every string, hitting every note that he needs to for that fullness to build in your lower belly. It’s never felt this good to be close before, it’s almost too much to take and you inch up on the bed, desperate for a break.

Mingi grabs you by the hips before you can get too far, dragging you back down onto his face. “No running” he grins, “Now be a good girl and stay still for me.”

There’s no time to be shocked by his boldness. You’re right back where you left off. Back arching, legs shaking, walls clenching. He takes your clit between his lips, licking circles around it as his fingers plunge back into you, tapping your sweet spot until you come undone.

He locks an arm across your waist, pinning you to the bed so that you have to take it. All of it. Your orgasm falls over you like a blanket, clinging to your skin, enveloping you in the overwhelming warmth of it. Your moans devolve into a low, broken whine as you lay there helpless. As if you’d want the help if there were any. 

“Mmm” he hums, taking his last taste of you before his dripping fingers pull out, “I knew you’d taste good but that was…”

He swishes what’s left of your juices around in his mouth, making sure that it lingers behind long after he’s done. “Delicious.”

Pressing his lips to your inner thigh, he kisses his way up your body. Except for a few involuntary twitches from the aftershock, your body’s limp. Far too weak to stop him from teasing you with wet kisses to your curves. He whispers things to your body. Some sweet, some filthy, but the message is the same. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

A part of you wants to deny the truth of his words, shrugging them off as nothing more than lust. But there’s so much sincerity in them that you can’t fight them off. They soak right into your skin and, by the time his lips meet yours again, they’ve become a part of you. 

Mingi cups your face, his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “You came so hard for me, baby. Think you can do it again?”

You may be lying here with glossy eyes and pouty lips but you’re far from the innocent little thing he’s making you out to be. You slip a hand below his waist, palming his length through his pants. 

“Get rid of them” you whisper, kissing him harshly, “Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He pushes himself up from the bed, standing to the side of you to drop his pants. You crawl to the edge of the bed, settling on your knees to watch him. He makes a proper show of it, sliding them down at an agonizingly slow pace. Your eyes widen when his cock springs free, no boxers to hold them back. 

“You didn’t have any underwear on. You whore” you tease, admiring his cock all the while. It’s much longer than you thought it’d be, thicker too, with pretty veins traveling up the side like rose vines and a nice fat tip leaking precum down to the rim. 

Mingi tucks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “If I’m a whore, I’m your whore.”

“All mine?” you ask, popping the tip into your mouth. It’s a tight fit. Not easy in the slightest but you make it look like it is. You drag your tongue across the slit, collecting beads of arousal on your tongue. 

His body shudders, knees almost giving out from the wispy motion of your tongue around the rim. “All yours” he groans, his voice growing shaky the further you take him into your mouth.

You take as much as you can before it taps the back of your throat and then you take a little more still. Bobbing your head back and forth, you drool down his length, sucking him like one of those long, twisty lollipops you get from the candy store. Mingi throws his head back, swearing he can see stars on the ceiling from how tightly your fluffy cheeks are suctioned around him.

Your tongue sweeps back and forth on the underside of his cock, your throat muscles flexing around the tip. Running your fingers down his stomach, you dig your nails in. Not enough to draw blood, just enough to get his attention. He looks down at you, a mixture of ecstasy and pain clouding his mind.  

Leaning back from him, you let him slip out of your mouth. “If it’s all mine…” you sigh, sliding back on the bed and crawling onto your knees, “Then give it to me.”

You arch your back, ass poked out towards him, and he can see that you’re still dripping, your thighs soaked from your last orgasm. He slaps your ass hard enough to make all of you jiggle and you smile back at him, not minding the sting. 

“You’re lucky you look so hot” he says, aligning himself with your entrance.

You wink, sinking back onto him so that the tip pops inside, “So are you.” 

Mingi grabs you by the hips, slamming into you, and your arms give out in an instant, your cheek lying flat against the blanket as the next thrust sends shockwaves through your system. He pauses before the next to give you time to adjust. Really to give himself time to adjust.

The look on his face would make you think that he hates you—eyes narrowed, brows knitted together, lips tight—but it’s the exact opposite. Being inside of you is like dipping himself into a pool of honey. You’re warm and sticky, hugging him so well that pulling out feels criminal. Nothing has ever felt this good. 

“Shit, baby, I can’t believe this is what you’ve been hiding from me all this time” he grunts, driving into you again and again.

The tears in your eyes are real this time. None of those play ones from earlier. You can’t help how they water as he bounces you on his cock, your quivering hole stretching a bit more each time to accommodate him. Music’s still streaming from the record player and the sound of your bodies slapping together matches the frantic rhythm. You have to give it to him. He’s good at staying on beat, even at a time like this. 

Leaning forward, he nips at your side before grabbing your arm and guiding it between your legs. “Touch your clit for me. Wanna watch you do it.”

You do as you’re told, blindly feeling around to find your bud. Your fingers slip around, splashing in your own slick. They land right at your entrance and you can feel him pulsing as he disappears into you. You let them hover there, stroking him each time he pulls back, but Mingi forces your hand up to where he wants it.

“Aah, Min—fuck, so good…” you moan at the added layer of pleasure. 

With his large hands splayed out on your ass, he sits back to watch you. Your arm’s shaky, mouth hung open drawing in sharp, jagged breaths. The curves of your body sit just right and each time you arch he finds a new way to admire them.

It’s more than enough to break him, your walls clenching and releasing, worsening the rising pressure threatening to ravage him. But he grits his teeth, suppressing his high until he feels your walls flutter off rhythm, legs trembling as your second orgasm of the night washes over you. 

Mingi stills his movements, keeping you flush against him as you mindlessly ride his cock. “Good girl…” he coos, “Use me like I’m your fucking toy.” 

Your whole world’s shattering and his words only make you come harder, juices cascading down your thighs, soaking the space between you. He follows close behind you, his swollen tip pumping you full of his seed until you’re drowning in the warmth of it. You bite down on the blanket, moaning his name into the thick cotton.

When your body finally collapses into the mattress, you’re on another planet and the feeling of Mingi’s arms around you are all that brings you back to earth. Cuddled up behind you, he sprinkles your shoulder with loving kisses, obsessed with the way you look even when you’re wrecked like this.

Minutes pass without a word spoken but nothing needs to be said for his admiration for you to be clear. It radiates from him, making your skin prickle. 

Turning to face him, you brush sweat slicked strands away from his eyes, “You’re staring at me.”

“I like staring at you” he smiles, kissing your inner wrist, “I always have…always will.” 

This is your cue to say something sweet back. Tell him how handsome he is—that in a room full of people your eyes will always find him. But the gravity of what you two have done sets in and with it comes the paralyzing fear that you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life. When you were his best friend. You were special. Sacred in a way that made you different from all the other girls. So what are you now?

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, searching your expression for any small detail that’ll give it away. 

“It’s nothing…”

Mingi frowns, knowing a liar when he sees one, “Nothing, huh?”

“Really, it’s nothing. It’s just—I don’t wanna be just like one of your little groupies, you know? I don’t want this to mean that you see me differently.” 

“I see you the same way that I always have” he says, fingertips tracing your spine. “But I’d like to see you as something more, if that’s okay with you.”  

The smile on your face is automatic. You can’t even begin to fight it. “Yeah, that’s okay with me.”

“Good. Not that you really had a choice. I can’t let go of a girl like you. Look at you” he growls, locking you in his arms so that you can’t get away.

He tucks his face into your neck, kissing and nibbling at you like a rabid animal. You kick your feet and giggle, hands pressed to his chest in a useless attempt to push him off.

Some things between you will never change. He’ll forever be a menace, always taking every chance he gets to mess with you, but in another sense things will never quite be the way they were before.

And, as you surrender to the relentless assault of kisses raining down on you, you can’t imagine ever wanting them to be. 

[someonellly]

JUST TRUST ME ── j.wy

synopsis ; you were in the woods one day when you came across an injured wooyoung who was being chased by hunters. he had expected you to turn him in, but to his surprise, you didn't; you led them away before offering to help him. however, this was only going to be the beginning for you and him.

pairing(s) ; wooyoung x f!reader

☆ ── wc. ; 12.8k ☆ ── genre ; hybrid!au, fox hybrid!wooyoung, human!reader, angst, fluff, smut ☆ ── tw. ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, blood, mentions of guns, cussing, wooyoung has severe trust issues with humans, reader stitches his wound, mentions of abuse, familial issues, violence, petnames (sweetheart, baby, babydoll, love, my love...), kissing, rough makeout, unprotected sex, breast play, bulge kink, breeding, creampie, knotting, biting/marking, fingering, cum eating, clit play, overstimulation, cockwarming, mentions of war, wooyoung is unsure in the beginning, mentions of a rut, teasing, big dick!wooyoung, reader has trouble sleeping, lmk if I missed anything!

The air was crisp as you sat against the rough trunk of a tree, the bark digging into your skin through your thin jacket. You didn’t seem to mind, though; your attention was far too sucked into the book that was in your hands. You hummed softly as you turned the page, not realizing that you were almost already finished with the book.

A loud gunshot rang through the air, causing you to jump, the book falling from your hands as you scrambled to your feet. There weren’t supposed to be hunters in this area of the woods. The birds squawk loudly overhead, and you start to panic.

Completely forgetting about your book, you rushed in the direction in which the gunshot had come from. You smacked a few branches out of your way until you came to a clearing, yet what you found shocked you.

A man hunched against a tree, his hand clutching his side. Yet that wasn’t what caught your attention; no, it was the ears that sat on top of his black hair. The fox hybrid ears that you had only seen a few times, seeing as the species tends to keep to themselves.

Sensing your presence, he looked up, meeting your shocked gaze with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected there to be another person in the woods. Were you with the hunters who were after him? 

“Are yo–” You started to ask, taking a step closer to him when you noticed the crimson liquid that coated his hand, but he quickly shushed you. Confused, you opened your mouth once more but quickly closed it when you heard rushed footsteps.

“Hey!” A voice shouted, causing your head to snap over to a group of hunters, all of them holding rifles, aiming directly at you. Your heart leaped into your throat, and your hands shot up in surrender. You could tell by their appearance that they weren’t just any regular hunters. No, the insignia they wore on their coats was from a very prominent hybrid hunter organization. 

You could see the fox hybrid from the corner of your eye, but you didn’t dare glance over, not wanting to give them any hints as to where he was because you were sure that he was who they were after.

Swallowing thickly, you opened your mouth, “can I help you?”

“Did you see a fox hybrid run by here?” One of the men in the front asked, his rifle still aimed at you, and your nerves spiked seeing how close his finger was to the trigger. These people were ruthless and would kill just about any and everything that got in their way.

Wooyoung, in turn, watched you, his heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of you throwing him under the bus for your own safety. It's what every human does, after all. So he started to rack his brain for any possible ways to get out of this alive. That was until he heard you speak, his ears twitching slightly in shock.

“N-No, it’s just been me out here.” You spoke as your heart hammered against your ribs the longer he held you at gunpoint. The hunter looked at you skeptically as he took a step in your direction, and you quickly spoke again to keep him from coming any closer and finding the dark-haired male. “But I did hear scuffling in that direction on my way over!” You spoke quickly, pointing in a different direction, and the hunter raised an eyebrow, staring you down for a moment, waiting for you to show any signs of lying, but he thought you would have to be some kind of idiot to lie while you had multiple guns pointed directly at you.

“Thank you.” He nodded curtly before lowering the rifle, which in turn resulted in the others lowering theirs as well. You offered a meek smile, your hands still in the air as you watched him motion the others in the direction you pointed them in.

The air around you was silent as you watched their retreating figures, your heart beating so loud you could hear it through your own ears. Then, when they were far enough away, Wooyoung let out a groan, which pulled you out of your daze.

Without much thought to it, you rushed over to make sure he was okay, but as soon as you reached out to him, he growled, bearing his teeth at you, “Don’t touch me.”

He looked at you, a mixture of pain and fear pooling in his dark eyes, and you felt your heart drop. Swallowing thickly, you shrugged off your jacket, not caring that the cold air nipped at your bare arms, and held it out to him.

“I just want to help; I promise I’m not here to hurt you.” You spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more, and he looked between you and the jacket you were holding out. Reluctantly, he took the clothing, his fingers brushing the palm of your hand, sending a flurry of sparks along your skin. “My cabin isn’t too far from here, I can tend to your wound, and you can go after that. I just want to help.” You reassured him, keeping a comfortable distance between the two of you.

Wooyoung looked at you skeptically for a few long moments, weighing the pros and cons. He could either send you away and risk bleeding out in these very woods before he could get home, or worse, the hunters find him again. Or he could swallow his pride for a bit and allow you, a human, to help him and then he’d be free to go on his own way.

“Fine.” His tone was cold as he pushed himself off of the tree, and you stepped forward but stopped short when he let out a low growl. 

“You need to add more pressure to it.” You stated as you took a step towards him despite the warning in his eyes and his ears flattened against his head. All signs that you should back off, but you pushed the fear to the side and walked towards him until you were just inches away.

He watched you with a keen gaze as you moved around him to wrap your jacket around his torso and then tie it. You jumped when a pained hiss left his lips, and his hand grabbed your wrist tightly, mumbling an apology as you finished tying off the knot after he released your wrist. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do until you got back to your cabin.

You wanted to offer to help him walk, but judging by the way his ears still haven’t relaxed and his tail is tucked down, he wasn’t going to let you do more than just lead him. Stepping away once more, you noticed that he relaxed a little bit when you weren’t so close, so you took the chance to point in the direction of your cabin.

“It’s just this way, if you need help let me kn–”

“I can walk on my own," he growled. You quickly nodded, backing off and allowing him to follow you.

–

It took a little bit longer to get to your cabin than you originally thought because Wooyoung had twisted his ankle while running, so he lagged behind. You wanted so badly to help him, but you knew not to overstep any boundaries for your own safety. But the two of you made it inside without too much of a problem, and as soon as you shut the door, you pointed towards the couch.

“You can sit there; I have to grab my first aid kit," you told him before turning and walking down the hall, leaving Wooyoung standing there.

He looked around the living room, expecting to find any sign that you might be with those hunters. Yet all he found were paintings of various nature elements and a few photographs of you and two other girls, one he knew was a cat hybrid the moment he saw her ears.

Surprised wasn’t even the word that he would use. After the war that broke out between humans and hybrids, he was sure that no other humans treated hybrids with any semblance of respect. Moving further into the house, he was met with a strong smell of vanilla and cashmere, but your scent overpowered everything else. It was sweet like cherries, but with a hint of vanilla and sage as well—a scent he had never smelled before.

Unbeknownst to him, Wooyoung’s tail started to wave softly behind him, and his ears relaxed a bit more as he picked up on the sound of you in the other room. Even when the place felt safe, he couldn’t help but keep his guard up, knowing he’d fallen into the same trick before, which cost him severely.

After finding the first aid kit, you walked back into the living room, finding the fox limping around the room as he looked at the decorations on your walls. Letting out a small cough, you caught his attention, and he looked over at you. He then walked over to the couch that you had pointed out earlier and sat down, a groan falling from his lips as he did so.

You walked over and sat the first aid kit next to him, and he suddenly froze at how close you had gotten, a low growl reverberating from his throat. You looked over at him, finding his upper lip twitching slightly, and you took a small step back, a huff leaving your lips.

“If you want me to help, you need to let me near you.” You stated, and Wooyoung glared at you but stopped growling, and you took that as a sign. Retaking your spot in front of him, you started to reach for the knot of the jacket but stopped short; he started growling in warning once more. Titling your head to look at him, your breath hitched in your throat when you realized just how close you were to him. Your eyes trailed along his features, the sharp eyes, the beauty mark that was right under his eye, then to the few scrapes he had on his cheek and jaw. His dark eyes bore into you, captivating you, and something about his closed-off nature pulled you in.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you ignored his growling and undid the knot of the jacket sleeves before carefully pulling the blood-soaked cloth away. Once it was off, you threw it to the ground to deal with later. Then, without another thought, you dropped down to your knees in front of him, causing Wooyoung to look at you in surprise, the growling suddenly stopping.

“Now you can either lift your shirt or take it off; either way, I need to see the wound, "you told him as you looked up at him, missing the red that dusted his cheekbones.

He looked down at you, his hands hesitantly reaching for his shirt before pulling it up just enough to reveal his lower torso. You had to stop yourself from gawking at his toned abdomen, but that didn’t stop your heart from accelerating.

Shaking your head softly, you rose up to your knees to look at the wound, and you could tell instantly that it was a gunshot wound, which didn’t surprise you. However, you hoped that it was all the way through because you didn’t have the means to remove bullets. Without a word, you peeked around his torso to look at his back, and a sigh left your lips.

“So good and bad news,” You started, moving to sit on your heels once more to look up at him, “good news, I’m pretty sure it missed anything vital, and it went completely through, so there’s no bullet for me to take out.” You told him, and he just looked down at you, not uttering a word, “Bad news, I’ll need to stitch both the entry and exit wounds, which are going to hurt because I have nothing to numb the pain.”

“If you’re worried about me passing out, don’t. I’ll be fine, so just get on with it.” His voice was gruff as he glared down at you, and you nodded before reaching for your first aid kit.

Not a word was spoken between the two of you as you started to clean the area around the wound. When you started to clean the wound itself, Wooyoung let out a pained hiss, and you apologized before blowing on it to try and alleviate some of the pain.

Wooyoung watched you in curiosity; he had never been treated this kindly by humans. Most of the ones he’s met were assholes, to put it lightly, only wanting him to show off to their human friends like he was some kind of prize. Then, the one human he thought he could actually trust turned out to be just as bad, if not worse, than the others, and some of the wounds from then were still healing.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realized that he had been staring or that you had even said anything until you waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times before focusing on you once more, the same hard gaze returning to his eyes as he raised an eyebrow.

“I need to clean the other side.” You told him as you stood and sat on the couch next to him, but he didn’t move.

Unease settled into his bones at the thought of turning his back to you, knowing that he would be defenseless if you were to attack him. As if you sensed his unease, you offered him a small, reassuring smile.

“I promise I’m just going to clean and stitch it.” You told him, your hands sitting in your lap as you held his eyes.

He stared at you for a few moments more, contemplating, but there was something in the back of his mind telling him that he could trust you. So, with slight hesitancy, he shifted on the couch with a pained groan until his back was to you.

You covered your mouth to muffle the shocked gasp that fell from your lips at the sight of his scarred skin. Most of them were healed and scarred over, but there were a few that were still fresh, meaning they had just happened recently. You reached out, your fingers brushing over the skin, but you were quick to pull away when the dark-haired male growled, his narrow eyes glaring at you from over his shoulder. Muttering an apology, you focused on the task at hand and started to clean the exit wound, repeating the same process from the other side.

You had heard from your friend that some hybrid owners would whip them, and at first, you couldn’t believe it because there had been laws in place before the war. Yet, looking at these wounds, you were sure that they had come from a whip. You then started to wonder if the person who had done this called the hunters to go after him. It pained you to know that humans could be so cruel, and you wanted nothing more than to wash away his pain, but for now, you could just help him with this one.

Goosebumps littered the male's skin when your warm breath met his skin as you blew on the wound once more. His tail twitched before laying itself across your lap, causing your eyes to widen, but you didn’t say a word, scared that it would scare him off again. Once the wound was clean, you grabbed your suture kit before sitting back to look at him.

“I’m going to stitch the exit wound first, but if you need me to stop at any time, just tell me.” You explained this to Wooyoung, and he turned his head to look at you, a dark gleam pooling in his brown iris.

You let out a sigh when he didn’t say a word before moving to sit at a better angle to stitch up the wound. As soon as you started, his hand that wasn’t holding his shirt up gripped the back of the couch, his knuckles turning white. Pain struck your heart seeing him in pain, but you knew you needed to get this done, so you focused unless he told you to stop, but he never did. After you finished off the last suture, you grabbed some bandages and covered the wound before moving away completely.

“Okay, one side done.” You told him, and he turned his body back around, watching as you knelt down on the ground in front of him once more. His eyes were on you the entire time that you started to wipe some of the fresh blood off. As you brushed over the wound again, his body jerked, causing you to lose your balance, and your hands flew out to steady yourself. However, your breath caught in your throat when you realized that it was his leg that you had used, your other hand on the couch next to his hip. Embarrassed, you fumbled over an apology as you moved away, and Wooyoung just shook his head, eyes averting your gaze as heat flushed over his face.

He would never admit it openly, but the feeling of your hands on him was nice, your skin was soft, and your scent was intoxicating, more so the closer you got. Swallowing thickly, he turned his head as you got to work stitching him up.

Once you were finished, you moved back, packing up your first aid kit before turning to look at the fox, his head still turned. “I’m all done. You’re free to leave, but you’re also more than welcome to stay here.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything before you scurried out of the room and towards the kitchen. Wooyoung just watched as your figure disappeared into the other room, his mind fighting with him.

He knew that he was going to leave, but why was he so hesitant about doing so? Shaking his head, he stood to his feet, a pained groan falling from his lips as he did so. He then walked around the couch and towards the door, yet when he reached for the door handle, he felt a tug at his being.

‘Don’t go.’

The voice in the back of his head became clearer than ever, the tugging growing by the second. He retracted his hand to look down at his palm. There was no way he was going to trust another human in his life, but why did he feel such a pull towards you?

Looking out the window, he saw that the sun had already set, and he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to be able to make it back home safely at this time. So he let out a huff, deciding that it would be best to just stay here for the night and leave first thing in the morning.

You stood in front of the stove, waiting for the kettle to finish warming up, your mind going back to the whip marks on the male’s back. Wondering who would be so cruel to do that to another person, but in this day and age, you knew that that answer would be hard to get because almost ninety percent of the human population saw hybrids as mere toys or prey for their sick games.

Wooyoung followed where you had gone, finding you standing before the stove. His ears could pick up the steady beat of your heart, and your scent once again invaded his senses. Scrunching up his nose to try and alleviate the overpowering smell, he walked towards you, the question that had been on the tip of his tongue finally falling from his lips.

“Why do you care so much?” His voice broke the silence causing you to nearly jump out of your skin, having not heard him walk in. You turned to look at him, thinking about his question for a moment.

“No one deserves to be treated like that.” You spoke softly as you looked at him, and you could clearly see the suspicion in his eyes, which you didn’t blame him; your kind wasn’t exactly the best to his, “after the war broke out, I vowed to help as many hybrids that I could which in turn got me into trouble, but I didn’t care as long as they were safe.” You explained to him before turning around to pull the screaming kettle off of the stove, pouring some of the boiling liquid into a mug with a tea bag.

Wooyoung just looked at you in confusion. He could tell by your steady heart that you weren’t lying, but he was still perplexed at the thought of you genuinely caring about hybrids. No human did, especially if it meant they would have to leave their normal lives.

“My parents ended up kicking me out after they could get me to change my mind.” You told him, answering the question that was biting at the back of his mind. You let out a sigh before opening a cabinet and pulling out another mug and tea bag, not sparing him a glance as you recalled your parents' methods to ‘persuade’ you. “My best friend is also a hybrid, but she only comes around when it's safe.” You tried to change the subject a little bit as you set the kettle back on the stove after turning it off.

The room then fell silent as you finished up the tea before you turned with both mugs, offering one to the taller male. Wooyoung looked at it skeptically but took it from your hand nonetheless, his fingers brushing against yours, and he could have sworn he felt a shock of some kind.

“I never caught your name.” You spoke as you took a small sip from your own mug, your eyes never leaving his. He mulled over whether or not to give you his name, but in the end, he didn’t see any harm in it.

“Wooyoung.” He told you curtly, and you smiled; it fit him, really.

“I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself before the room fell into a semi-comfortable silence.

You watched as Wooyoung took a sip of the tea, and you laughed softly at the disgust that twisted on his face as soon as the liquid touched his tongue. He looked down at the mug as if it had offended him, his ears twitching slightly, and you couldn’t help but find it cute.

“What is this?” He asked as he sat the mug down on the counter and looked over at you as you took another drink from your own mug.

“It’s chamomile tea," you told him with a small laugh before grabbing his mug and setting it next to the sink. "It helps calm the nerves.”

“Well, it’s gross as hell," he quipped as his nose scrunched, causing you to smile endearingly. At the sight, Wooyoung felt his heart speed up under his ribs. Clearing his throat, he ran his fingers through his hair, but the pain that shot through his abdomen caused him to hiss, and you quickly looked back at him.

“Are you okay?” You asked, taking a step towards him, but that same warning gleam in his eyes from before stopped you.

“I’m fine. Is the couch free?” he asked, and you looked at him with scrunched eyebrows. Had he not expected you to let him use the bed? Seeing your expression, he let out a huff. He knew you were too good to be true. " Forget it. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He then turned and started to walk out.

Panicking a little, you sat your mug down, not caring that some spilled before you rushed forward to grab his arm, stopping him. He looked back at you, and he half expected you to tell him to sleep outside, but your words caught him completely off guard.

“I have a guest room; you don’t have to sleep on the couch or the floor.” You told him as you released his arm, taking a tentative step back as he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Interlocking your fingers, you looked up at him. “I can show you the room. I think I have some of my brother's old clothes in there that might fit you if you want to change them.” You told him hesitantly because you had heard about how male hybrids could be about other males' clothing; it didn’t matter if they were human or not.

He stared at you for a moment, trying to figure you out. Running his tongue over his teeth, you felt your heart leap at the sight of his elongated canines, your fingers tightening around each other. Once he agreed, you led him to the spare room, opened the door, and let him walk in.

“Make yourself at home, be wary of your stitches, and don’t get them wet until the twenty-four-hour mark passes.” You told him as you watched him walk into the room, and you noticed that he wasn’t limping anymore, which wasn’t too much of a surprise, seeing as hybrids have heightened healing. “Um, I’ll leave you to it. The clothes are in the wardrobe, and if you need anything, I’m just across the hall.” You pointed over your shoulder, and the dark-haired male nodded as he looked over at you. You offered a small smile before turning and leaving, closing the door behind you.

Wooyoung stood in the middle of the room for a few more moments before his gaze traveled over to the wardrobe, his lip curling in disgust. He would much rather sleep in his dirty clothes than wear anything that’s been near another male. So he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. He started to bend down to pull his boots off, but the pain stopped him.

Growling in annoyance, he pulled his leg up to unzip them, kicked them off, and lay down in the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was met with your scent once more. It seemed like no matter where he went, you followed, but this was your home after all, so he shouldn’t be too surprised. Rolling onto his uninjured side, he tried to sleep, which wasn’t too hard after the long and exhausting day he had. 

The loud rumbling of thunder woke Wooyoung dead out of his sleep, his body jolting upwards. His face twisted in pain as his hand covered his wound, pain erupting from the area. Looking around the room he noticed a digital clock sitting on the dresser that sat on the other side of the room.

‘3:47am’

Throwing the blankets off his legs, he stood from the bed and made his way towards the door. Opening it, his ears twitched as he heard movement from somewhere else in the house. Peeking out, he noticed the lights on at the end of the hall, where the living room was. Listening closer, he tried to see if he could hear anything, but the padding of the rain outside made it hard.

Carefully, he walked out of the room and down the hall with light on his feet in case it was an intruder. However, when he turned the corner all he found was you sitting on the couch, a book sitting in your lap. The dim glow of the lap that sat on the side table next to you cast a faint glow upon your skin. He couldn’t tell if it was just his sleep-fogged brain or not, but you looked breathtaking to him, and he hated that he saw you in that kind of light.

Swallowing thick, he turned to leave, not wanting to bother you or be close to you and your intoxicating scent just in case it got to his head. Yet when another clash of thunder vibrated the house, he grimaced, his hands reaching up to pull at his ears.

Hearing the floorboards creak, you looked over and found Wooyoung standing there, messing with his ears. You knew that they had sensitive ears, so you were sure that the thunder was hurting them. Putting the bookmark back into your book, you closed it before setting it down on the coffee table.

Noticing movement from the corner of his eye, Wooyoung looked over to see you standing and walking towards him. He wanted to back away and tell you to not touch him, but he could force the words off of his tongue. You stopped just a few feet in front of him, looking him over. His hair and the scruff on his ears were all messy from his sleeping, and you took note that he was still wearing his clothes. Looking back up to meet his eyes you could see the borderline fear and pain swirling in his chocolate orbs.

“Why don’t you sit down? We can watch a movie until the storm passes.” You told him as you motioned to the couch. As much as he would like to tell you to screw off, he found himself nodding and following you to the couch, taking the empty space next to you but leaving a good amount of space between the both of you.

After you both got comfortable on the couch, you found a movie and pressed play before turning the volume up just enough to drown out the sound of the rolling thunder outside. You handed him the throw blanket after noticing that he was starting to shake slightly, but otherwise, you left him alone, not wanting to push any limits.

The room was quiet, except for the sound of the movie playing through the speakers. You sat with your legs curled underneath you as you played with the loose threads on the couch arm.

“Why are you awake?” His voice caused your heart to jump into your throat, startled by the sudden noise before you glanced over at him.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You told him before turning your gaze back to the TV, your racing heart starting to calm, but Wooyoung’s eyes never left your form.

“Because of the storm?”

You took a moment to respond, mulling over what you should tell him. "Yeah… " It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to burden him with your problems.

Wooyoung could tell that you hadn’t told the full truth, but he wasn’t going to push for answers, so he just left it at that and went back to watching the movie.

About an hour and a half later, the storm finally calmed, and Wooyoung had fallen back asleep on the couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up, so you just left him after making sure that he was completely covered. 

Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, you looked at the time and saw that it was a little bit after six. So you stood and made your way back to your room to change, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You were going to run to the store to grab a few groceries as well as a change of clothes for Wooyoung, something that you knew he would wear and that wasn’t already worn by someone else.

–

Wooyoung woke up with a groan, his arm covering his face from the harsh rays of sunlight. After a few moments, he lifted himself up and looked around the living room. Had he fallen asleep in here last night? His eyes then fell on a pile of folded clothes that sat on the table, a piece of paper sitting on top of them. 

Reaching over, he grabbed the note, thinking that you had just laid out more of your brother's clothes for him to change into. However, as he read the note, his eyebrow raised.

‘I went to the store this morning and got you something to change into; I wasn’t too sure about your size, so I hope they fit. There’s food in the fridge, and if you need anything, I’ll be in the backyard.’ - y/n

He found it hard to believe that you actually bought him something, but as he grabbed the T-shirt, he found that the tags were still attached, and the only scent he could smell was the faint aroma of the store. His eyes then shifted to the backdoor that he could see through the doorway of the dining room back to the shirt in his hands. He was surprised but grateful nonetheless, so he gathered the clothes before heading back to the guest room to change.

When he was done changing, he went to hunt for you, which wasn’t too hard, seeing as he could hear you humming to yourself through the open window in the kitchen. So he opened the back door and found you sitting on a swinging bench with yet another book in your hands.

At the sound of the door opening, you moved your gaze away from the page you had been reading. A small smile tugged on your lips at the sight of him wearing the clothes you had bought. Closing the book, you sat it to the side and gave him your full attention.

“Do they fit alright?” you asked, and he nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment as he noticed the dark bags that had formed under your eyes. You then remembered his bandages and stood to your feet, “Have you changed your bandages yet?”

“No, I was gonna ask you where they were.” He told you that the hairs on the back of his neck stood tall when a gust of wind blew past him, and he shivered. “Why are you out here when it’s this cold?” He wasn’t even sure where the question had come from, but he wanted to know the more the chill settled into his bones, and he started to shiver.

“It’s not that bad as long as the wind isn’t blowing," you explained before grabbing your book. "Now, let's go change your bandages.” You walked back to the door and opened it before walking in, Wooyoung close behind you, ready to get out of the cold.

As you were bandaging his stitches, you started to wonder why he hadn’t left when he looked like he was ready to run out that door any moment yesterday. Unknowingly, Wooyoung was wondering the same thing to himself. He was sure that he would just leave after waking up. Yet he once again found himself being tugged back to you, wanting to stay in your presence. It was annoying as hell.

When you were done, you threw out the old bandages and left everything he needed to change them sitting on the dresser.

“I’ll leave these here for you if you leave, so you have something,” you told him as you made your way to the door. But he quickly caught your wrist in his hand, the skin tingling at the contact. Shocked, you looked back at him with wide eyes, but he kept his gaze averted, his ears folded back.

“Could I stay here?” He hated to ask because the last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a human, but his ‘home’ was merely just an abandoned factory that was on the outskirts of the city that he had made himself comfortable in after escaping the last human he was with.

As if his reaching out to grab you wasn’t shocking enough, his asking to stay here after making it seem like he wanted nothing to do with you shocked you even more. You blinked at him a few times, trying to find the words, but Wooyoung took that as a sign that you didn’t want him there, so he started to let go. At the loss of contact, the shock instantly wore off, and you grabbed his hand, catching him off guard.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that, but yes, you’re more than welcome to stay here.” Your words came out rushed, worried that he would try to stop you if you didn’t speak fast enough. Wooyoung looked at you in shock for a moment before his eyes fell to where you were still holding onto his hand, noticing his gaze you quickly let go with an apology, sticking your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. “Uh… I’ll be out back again if you need anything!”

Wooyoung couldn’t help the small smile of amusement that spread on his lips as you tucked tail and rushed out of the room, and he definitely didn’t miss the faint blush on your cheeks. He let out a breath of air before turning and going back to the bed.

Something about you kept pulling him to you, and he wanted to figure out what it was. However, he was also worried that if he opened up too much, it would just be a repeat of last time. So, he decided to keep a good distance between the two of you so he wouldn’t run the chance of trusting another human.

It couldn’t be that hard, right?

The first week that he was there, it was easy to avoid being around you too much unless you were helping him change the bandages on his back. However, the longer he stayed with you, the more that he found himself drawn to you, and it became hard to avoid you.

Even now, as the both of you sat on the couch watching TV, the empty dinner plates were sitting on the coffee table. He sat close to you, wanting to soak in the warmth that you give off, yet he was hesitant about it, but even in the short amount of time you’ve known him you knew what he was wanting. So carefully, you reached over and grabbed his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers together. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes landed on where your hand sat in his, but you didn’t say a word nor look at him.

As much as he hated it he could feel the walls he had built up around him start to crumble the longer he stayed near you. He didn’t really hate it. He just wasn’t sure if he could trust you.

“We can take your stitches out tomorrow morning.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked over at you, offering him a small smile. That’s when he noticed that the dark bags under your eyes had gotten worse, and his eyebrows scrunched up, causing you to laugh softly. "What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?”

“Have you been sleeping?” His question caught your off guard and you looked at him with wide eyes.

Was it really that evident that you haven’t been sleeping well? You were sure that you had managed to cover the eyebags, just maybe not good enough. Letting out a short laugh, you reached up and rubbed the back of your neck as you turned your gaze away from him.

“Is it really that obvious? I’ve always had trouble sleeping, but it's been worse here lately.” You explained to him, releasing his hand, and he watched as you laid it on your lap. He started to worry that it had something to do with him, but you were quick to catch on, looking back over at him with a small smile. “It’s not because of you, it’s just…” A part of you wanted to spill everything to him; something about him just drawing you in like a string that was attached to your soul, but you didn’t want to overstep any lines that would make him uncomfortable.

Against his better judgment, Wooyoung reached over and took your hand back into his, interlocking your fingers together once more. Surprised, you looked down at your intertwined hands before looking up to meet his gaze. Then, despite all of the warning bells that were ringing in his head, he opened his mouth and spoke softly.

“You can tell me.” He reassured you, and you felt your heart leap at the sincerity in his eyes.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to trauma dump.” You tried to laugh it off, but he squeezed your hand, pulling your attention back to him. His gaze alone told you that he wasn’t going to let you go until you talked about it, so you just slunk back into the couch with a sigh. “My parents used to um… hit me to put it lightly back when everything was happening with the hybrids. They would wait until I was asleep in bed to come in and drag me out.” Your voice shook softly as you started to explain, averting your gaze to your and Wooyoung’s interlocked hands, watching his thumb brush the back of your hand. “Even after they finally kicked me out, I would wake up from night terrors. They got better after a while, but sometimes they get bad again, and I just can’t bring myself to sleep. I’m still petrified at the thought of them barging into my room again, so I just stay awake. Better safe than sorry.”

After you finished explaining, Wooyoung just looked at you. Even back then, you would rather take those beatings from your parents than turn against his kind. He started to see you in a new light, and he found himself even more drawn to you.

He squeezed your hand once again, catching your attention. As your eyes met his, you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. You quickly apologized as they started to fall, turning your head to wipe them away, but he caught your chin and turned you to look back at him. He brushed his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the tears before he spoke again.

“As long as I’m here, you don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you like that again.” His eyes scanned your face, and he could tell that you were on the verge of breaking down. He wiped a few more tears away before pulling his hand away and you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “You need to sleep; you look exhausted.”

You let out a small sigh, but you knew he was right. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong if you kept yourself awake any longer. So you made yourself comfortable on the couch, propping your arm up to rest your head on the couch, eyes watching the TV.

Wooyoung watched you for a few more moments before turning to look back at whatever movie was playing on the TV. Before too long, he looked over to find that you were fast asleep. Your lips parted slightly, and he couldn’t help but stare. Until he noticed your eyebrows scrunching together, and you started to mumble something.

Releasing your hand, he did the first thing that came to mind: He wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you into his. As soon as your head met his chest, the soft thumping of his heart was heard under your ear. He watched for a moment as your features relaxed and his body went rigid, his ears standing tall when your arms wrapped around his torso. After a few moments, he relaxed, his arm snug around you as he continued to watch TV.

–

When you woke up, you weren’t sure what time it was. Lifting your head, you wiped the sleep out of your eyes but became acutely aware of the body under yours. Moving slowly so as not to wake the male, you reached for your phone and turned the screen to see the time pop up on the screen.

‘2:19am’

Your eyes widened as you realized just how long you had been asleep and without any nightmares at that. Looking back at Wooyoung, you grimaced at the way his head was cranked backwards. Curling your lips inward, you reached out and shook him softly.

“Wooyoung… hey, wake up, Wooyou–” You gasped when he jolted awake, his hand wrapping around your wrist, his eyes alert, and his ears folded back. However, once he realized it was just you, his ear relaxed, and his grip loosed.

“Sorry,” He apologized before releasing your wrist to rub his eyes. “What time is it?”

“A little after two, you should go to bed; you looked uncomfortable.” You told him, guilt creeping up your spine when you realized that he was like that because you were laying on him.

He looked at you for a moment, then said, “If I’m going to bed, then you should, too.”

You wanted to protest, but the stern gleam in his eyes told you that you weren’t going to win this fight even if you tried. So you nodded before standing and turning the TV off, Wooyoung not too far from you.

When you got to your door, you paused for a second, unsure if you would even be able to sleep again. Noticing your hesitance, Wooyoung stopped turning the door handle to his room to look over at you.

“Are you okay?” You jumped at his voice before looking over your shoulder at him.

“I’ll be fine; I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to sleep again.” You told him honestly, but you waved him off quickly, not wanting to bug him further. "Don’t worry about it. Good night, Wooyoung.”

Before he could utter a word, you disappeared into your room, the door shutting softly behind you. He let out a huff, his tail waving behind him, matching his annoyed state. Walking into his room, he decided that it wasn’t really his place to push you, so he just left it be.

You crawled into your bed after changing into a pair of pajamas, but as soon as you lay down and closed your eyes, flashes of those nights came back, and you quickly opened your eyes. Turning onto your back, you stared at your ceiling for a few moments before trying to sleep once again. However, you kept tossing and turning, either too uncomfortable, or fear etched itself in your head as soon as you were about to fall asleep, waking you right back up. With a huff, you started to give up on the idea of sleeping when you heard a knock at your door, nearly scaring the life out of you.

You slowly climbed out of bed and walked over to the door, opening it just enough to look out. Your eyes widened when you found Wooyoung standing there.

“What are you–”

“I can hear you moving around in the other room; I can’t sleep.” He cut you off, and your face dropped. You hadn’t meant to keep him awake. You started to apologize, but he just shook his head, his ear twitching slightly. “You seemed to sleep better when I was with you on the couch, so…” He really didn’t want to spell it out for you, and thankfully, you caught on to what he was saying.

“You don’t have to, I don’t want to trou–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pushed past you into your room, kicking the door closed behind him and pulling you towards the bed.

“Just be quiet and lay down.” His snarky tone was something that you had grown used to over the past two weeks that he’s been here, so it didn’t bother you. No, what was getting to you was the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him. Hearing the sound of your heart rate pick up, he flicked your forehead, causing you to yelp, “We’re just sleeping. Get your head out of the gutter.”

“I– you–” You stumbled over your words in embarrassment, causing the fox to smirk. Your face was a bright shade of pink, and you thanked the heavens that it was dark so he couldn’t see it; at least, you hoped he didn’t. With a pout, you turned, walked over to the other side of the bed, and laid down, your back facing him.

Laughing softly, he took the empty space next to you, pulling the blankets over his body. The room then fell silent as you both laid there, you could already start to feel yourself drift off. Then before too long you had fallen asleep just as Wooyoung thought you would, he then laid his head back down and started to drift off. However, he was jolted from his slumber when you suddenly turned and moved closer to him, your hand brushed against his side as you moved. He stayed still for a moment until you practically curled yourself against his side before he let out a sigh and went to sleep.

–

The next morning you woke up before Wooyoung, a yawn escaping your lips as you went to sit up only to find Wooyoung’s arm draped over your body. Heat crept up your neck as you realized just how close the two of you were, his soft snores filling your ears.

Carefully untangling your body from his, you climbed out of the bed and grabbed a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. Shutting the door behind you, you walked over to the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Snap out of it, y/n; he’s just trying to help because you’re bothering him. Don’t let it go to your head.” You sighed, turning on the tap to splash cool water over your face.

“You’re not bothering me.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, a small yelp falling from your lips as you looked up, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror.

“When did you…?” You turned to look at him with wide eyes; you hadn’t even heard the door open.

Wooyoung didn’t say a word as he stalked closer to you and you tried to back away only to be met with the counter. He then trapped your body between his and the countertop, leaning down until his warm breath washed over your face.

Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips that were merely inches away from your own and you swallowed thickly. Wooyoung wasn’t sure what had washed over him or if it was just that his rut was coming up, but that pull he felt towards you was stronger than ever this morning.

His hand then found your waist, pulling you against him, causing a soft gasp to fall from your lips. His head then dipped down, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, “I can hear your heart hammering in your chest, sweetheart.”

“Wooyoung…” You breathed out, your hand pressing against his chest, and you could feel his own heartbeat against your palm. 

The fox hummed as he moved away from your ear to look at you, his tail brushing against your bare thigh. His gaze was intense as he stared down at you, his grip on your hip tightening. You wanted to push him away, but you couldn’t, and neither could Wooyoung as he finally captured your lips with his. Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his plush lips against yours.

Any hesitance you felt moments before flew out the window as you melted against him, returning his eager kiss. Your arms snaked around his neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You didn’t give him much of a fight as you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. A soft moan fell from your lips when he gently bit down on your bottom lip, and Wooyoung could feel his pants grow tighter.

His kisses grew hungrier as his hands started to roam your body, fingers slipping underneath your shirt. Your brain started to go foggy as his lips trailed from yours down your jaw before finding purchase on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“W-Wooyoung.” You choked out as he started to leave hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping every now and then, causing your body to shiver. His eager hands found the back of your thigh, hoisting you onto the counter, eliciting a small yelp from you.

“You smell so good.” He groaned against your skin before his hands slipped under your shirt, squeezing at the skin. “Fuck I need you, baby, so bad.”

You moaned softly at his words, your hands gripping his shoulders, “We can’t… your stitches.” You told him, trying your best not to lose yourself in the feeling of his hands on your skin and his teeth grazing your neck.

“It’s fine, they’re coming out today. You said so yourself.” He told you, pulling away from your neck to look at you. The dark lust that pooled in his eyes made your arousal grow tenfold, and you could feel your panties growing wetter.

His fingertips then brushed the underside of your breast, and his eye flickered down to your shirt at the realization that you hadn’t been wearing a bra. With quick movements, he pulled the shirt over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. His eyes then fell on your bare breast, drinking in the sight with his eyes.

You felt so exposed under his intense gaze, goosebumps littering your skin before you started to cover yourself. However, he was quicker, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into another bruising kiss. A muffled mewl left your mouth when he cupped your breast in his hand, squeezing the soft fat.

“Don’t hide from me. You’re too pretty to hide.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled away from you; his head then dipped down. His lips latched onto the skin right above your breast, and you could feel your sanity slowly slipping away from you.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as he pressed his hips against yours, allowing you to feel how hard he was against your clothed cunt. A gasp fell from your swollen lips when he latched onto one of your nipples, teeth nipping at the sensitive bud.

“B-Bed.” You gasped out when his hand traveled down your stomach to your clothed heat.

Wooyoung let out a low growl, not wanting to waste time, but he detached himself from your breast nonetheless before picking you up. A small yelp fell from your lips as your arms wrapped your arms around his neck.

Walking back into the bedroom, he dropped you onto the bed, a small huff leaving your lips as you fell. Wooyoung didn’t leave you alone for too long, though, quickly discarding his shirt before crawling over you, his lips finding yours once more.

His hands then found the hem of your sleep shorts, fingers wrapping around the waistband, but he stopped and pulled away from your lips.

“Can I?” He asked despite the overpowering need to have you fully, not wanting to push any boundaries there may be. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him back down to you.

“Please,” You spoke softly, pressing a kiss on the corner of his lips, and that was all he needed before he hastily pulled off both your shorts and underwear. The way his eyes were devouring you had you pooling even more, your thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the pressure.

Wooyoung’s head dipped down to your neck once more, nipping at the skin softly as his hand traveled down your body. He pulled your thighs apart before his fingers met with your soaping core, and he groaned against you.

“Fuck I could smell how wet you were, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this wet babydoll.” He groaned against your skin as the pad of his middle finger found your throbbing clit. The sinful sound that left your lips nearly made him lose all sense of control, and he tried his best not to bite down on your collarbone. 

“W-Woo–” You were cut off by a moan when he slipped a finger into your tight walls.

“Shit baby, you’re so tight,” He chuckled darkly as your eyes rolled slightly when he curled his fingers after adding a second finger. There was no way he was going to be able to hold off for much longer before he lost it, so he sped up his pace, his thumb pressing harsh circles on your clit.

“F-fuck!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed and against him. Your mind was starting to shortcircuit when he brushed over your sweet spot, and a broken whine fell from your lips. 

Wooyoung leaned up latching his lips on yours once more, stealing the air right out of your lungs. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him close to you as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. He bit at your lower lip, enough to draw blood before he started to suck on it; the mixture of pain and pleasure sent you toppling over the edge.

“Wooyoung!” You cried out as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, prolonging your orgasm for a few moments before finally pulling them out of your twitching cunt.

You watched with hooded eyes as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence off of his digits. The sight was enough to make your need grow all over again, especially with the way his eyes bore into you. Once he was sure he had licked every last drop of your sweet nectar off of his fingers, he leaned back down over you, pressing his lips against yours again. You mewled at the taste of yourself on his tongue mixed with the tangy, metallic taste of your blood from your lip.

“Next time, I’ll have you cumming on my tongue.” He growled against your lips, and you were sure your brain was turning to putty at the thought of him between your thighs, lapping at your cunt like it was his favorite meal in the world. “But for right now… I need to be in you.”

He moved back far enough to pull the string of his sweats loose and pushed them down his legs. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He was big, way bigger than anyone you had ever been with before, but for granted, you’ve never slept with a hybrid. You then started to wonder whether or not it would fit, swallowing nervously.

Sensing your unease, Wooyoung crawled back over your body, drawing your attention back to his face. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before whispering, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you, baby, I promise.”

You gazed into his eyes for a moment before nodding softly, licking your lips, “o-okay, I trust you.” 

Wooyoung smiled softly before pulling you into another kiss as he grabbed himself at the base, teasing your folds with his tip. You let out soft gasps every time he bumped against your clit that slowly turned into needy whines the more he continued to tease you. Tears from the overwhelming need started to brim in your eyes, and the dark-haired male could have sworn he’d bust right then and there.

“P-please, Woo… I need you, please.” You whined as your fingers tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently.

“Alright, my needy baby.” He cooed before lining his tip with your entrance and slowly pushed into you.

The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as he continued to fill you. “Ah, focus on me, love,” Wooyoung whispered softly, coaxing your eyes open, and you looked at him as tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes. “Good girl.” 

You moan at the praise, his length still pushing you until he finally buried himself to the hilt. Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape from the feeling of being stuffed full. Wooyoung groaned as his face fell to the crook of your neck; you were squeezing him so tightly that if he were to move right now, he’d cum.

“W-Woo…” You gasped as he unintentionally rolled his hips against yours. He quickly apologized before stilling his hips, his hand finding yours to interlock his fingers with yours.

Your shallow breaths fanned against his ear as he pressed kisses along your chest, and he groaned at the feeling. Even through your foggy haze, you could notice the effect it had on him. Your free hand moved to the top of his head, your fingers brushing against his ear, and his whole body jolted.

“Fuck baby, don’t do that.” He groaned, moving his head up to look at you and you just looked at him with doe eyes, a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips. You reached up to touch his ear once more but he caught your wrist, a small growl reverberating from his chest. The sound went right to your pussy causing you to clench around him. “I’m trying so hard to not lose control babydoll, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

A choked moan tore from your lips when he rolled his hips into yours, pleasure washing over you in waves as he hit all the right spots in one single stroke. Wooyoung released your wrist and hand to grab your hips when you gave him the green light to move.

Stars danced across your vision as he pulled out before snapping his hips right back into yours. Your fingers dug into the sheets from the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Fuck look at you.” He groaned as he continued his rough pace; it was almost animalistic if you will. His eyes then fell down to where his cock disappeared into your soaping cunt, and he felt himself grow harder at the sight of the small bulge that formed in your lower tummy every time he pushed into you.

“Shit, Woo– fuck!” You cried out as he pushed down on your stomach, making you feel him even more as he fucked into you. Tears spilled from your eyes now as your whole body felt as if it were on fire, your legs trembling around Wooyoung’s waist.

“Are you gonna cum baby?” He cooed down at you as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, stealing the air from your lungs once more as his tip kissed your cervix at this angle. A loud pornographic moan tore from your lips when one of his hands slid between your bodies, pressing against your clit. “Cum for me, babydoll, please.” He pleaded like he was the one more desperate for your orgasm, but with a few more strokes, you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach snap, and your release gushed out all over his length.

A mixture of his name and broken moans fell from your lips as he continued his fast pace, never slowing down and throwing your body into overstimulation. Your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling, pushing more tears out, but Wooyoung was quick to kiss them away.

“Just a little bit more; you can do that for me, can’t you, sweetheart?” He whispered into your ear before leaving a flurry of kisses along your skin. His tail brushed along your leg, the feeling of the soft fur sending a shiver down your spine. “‘M gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna get you pregnant with my kits; you would like that, wouldn’t you, my love?” 

You mewled at his words, your mind too far gone to truly understand what he was saying to you. Your fingers then found their way back into his hair, your fingertip brushing against his ear, and his whole body shuddered.

“Please Woo– I can’t–” You whined as your hips rolled to meet with his thrusts. Every nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire.

“Shit.” He groaned as he felt his high nearing, and his hips snapped wildly into yours, making your vision turn white, nails digging into his neck. A mixture of a groan and a whimper fell from his lips as he completely buried himself to the hit once more as he came.

“W-Woo!” You cried out when you felt something stretching you even more, and it sent your third orgasm washing over you. Wooyoung buried his face in your neck as you milked his cock for all it was worth.

Once your orgasm subsided, you opened your eyes, blinking away some of the tears before looking over at Wooyoung as he pulled his head out of your neck.

“What is that?” Your voice shook slightly and the fox male just smirked down at you before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“It’s a knot, sweetheart. It’ll go down in a bit, but for now, try not to move too much.” He explained to you, and you let out a huff, and your head fell back, but you were sitting there for too long until Wooyoung flipped the both of you and pulled you on top of his chest. “You’ll probably be more comfortable like this.”

You let out a soft laugh before tilting your head to look up at him. "You better hope your stitches didn’t bust.” You huffed before laying your head back down on his chest as he chuckled. He ran his fingers through your hair before gently squeezing the back of your neck. Before too long, both of you had fallen asleep once more.

–

A few hours later, you were in the kitchen with Wooyoung, sitting on the barstool as you took out his stitches. He hadn’t even bothered to put a shirt on after the both of you woke up, seeing that it would be pointless.

“See, I told you they’d be fine.” He teased you as you removed the last stitch from his abdomen, and you glared up at him before raising back up.

“Yeah, and it's probably thanks to your enhanced healing.” You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged on the corner of your lips when he wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him. “Woo, I need to get the stitches in your back.” You went to pull away, not missing the pout that formed on his lips or how his ears drooped.

The room then fell silent. The only sound was your soft humming as you worked on removing the stitch from his back. Once they were out, you couldn’t help but brush over the scars, and this time, Wooyoung didn’t growl or even move away; he just let you do as you please.

“They’re from the last human I was with.” His voice startled you, and you looked up, but he didn’t turn his head to look at you. You laid your palm flat against his back as you listened to what he was telling you. “She was the first human that I thought I could actually trust. She treated me with so much kindness and lured me in with false promises. Then, when she had me in her grasp, that nice facade faded, and her true colors showed through.” You could hear the slight tremble in his voice as he explained, your heart aching at the thought of the betrayal he must have felt. “She was… evil, and that’s putting it lightly. Even an inch out of line, and she’d have that damn whip in her hand.” He growled lowly as he recalled all of the painful nights he had to endure in the cold cage that she would keep him in.

You stepped closer to him, your arm wrapping around his chest, and he leaned back into you. He let out a content sigh when you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the scruff on his ears.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, but I promise that you will never have to go through that again, "you promised as you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on his temple. He hummed softly, soaking in your warmth because, for once, he actually believed your words.

You both stood there in silence, enjoying each other’s company. That was until the sounds of loud engines interrupted you. Both of you froze, unsure what that sound was. Quickly pulling yourself away from him, you walked with a light step towards the front of the house, peeking out of the front window. What you saw made your heart jump in your throat.

“Shit!” You cursed lowly as you turned back to the dark-haired male who had just walked into the living room.

“What is–”

“Wooyoung, listen to me; in the closet in the guest room, there’s a crawl space. I need you to go and hide in there, NOW!” You rushed, pushing him in the direction of the room, but he fought against you. “Dammit, Woo, go! It’s the hunters, so please go and hide, and for the love of god, do NOT come out no matter what you hear.” You pushed him towards the room once more, and Wooyoung’s heart dropped at the thought of the hunters being here again.

Reluctantly, he did as he was told, rushing into the guest room and shutting the door behind him. Opening the closet door and looking up, he found the crawl space you were talking about. Looking around, he found a bucket and quickly turned it over so he could use it as a step stool. 

With a few pushes, the piece of the ceiling gave way, and he quickly pulled himself up, kicking the bucket away in the process. Once he was inside, he replaced the panel before sitting there, trying to calm his racing heart.

His ears twitched as he picked up on the sound of voices from the other room, and he prayed to god that you would be okay and the hunters would just leave when they couldn’t find what they were looking for.

The hunters had practically busted their way into the cabin and you prayed the Wooyoung made it to the crawl space in time. You jumped when the door collided with the wall roughly, and the group of three men, all wearing the same insignia, walked in.

“You can’t just barge in here.” You stood your ground, glaring at them, but they just looked at you, and the front guy smirked.

“Well, if it isn't the pretty lady from the woods.” He stepped towards you, but you quickly took a step back, keeping a good space between you. “We got word that the fox hybrid was seen in this area.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; there hasn’t been anyone but me out here.” You stated, heart hammering against your ribs as he signaled for his men to start searching, “hey you can’t just–”

In the next second, your body hit the ground, pain burning on your cheek, and tears stung in your eyes. Looking up, you glared at the man, holding your face.

“See, we would believe that if our sources hadn’t said they saw him right here with you.” He then crouched down in front of you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back, causing a pained cry to leave your lips. “So if you wanna live to see the light of another day, you better start telling the truth.”

Your hands balled into fists as you spit at him, “There is no one but me here, douchebag.”

Another cry of pain fell from your lips when he backhanded you, the metal of his ring busting your lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall as you met the man’s gaze once more. Your eyes narrowed into slits as he leaned towards you.

“You’re quite feisty; I wouldn’t mind keeping you.” He reached toward you, but you quickly knocked his hand away in disgust.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You growled, heart beating frantically the longer the other two men were out of sight. You prayed that they were dumb enough to just look in the obvious places and not give the crawl space a second thought.

Wooyoung could hear the commotion in the living room, but as soon as he heard the pained cry fall from your lips, he wanted to give up his spot so he could make sure you were okay. However, he knew that he would only end up hurting you more, so he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the shuffling from underneath him.

Eventually, it stopped, and the footsteps retreated back towards the living room.

“We couldn’t find anything, boss.” Both men walked back into the room, and you had to fight the urge to let out a relieved sigh.

“Fucking hell.” The man in front of you growled before standing to his feet and looking down at you with a faux smile, “Sorry about the commotion, ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but scoff as they walked out of the house, slamming the door shut in the process. You didn’t dare move until you heard the sound of their engines fade off into the distance.

“Y/n!” Wooyoung called out as he got out of the crawl space, saw the mess the hunters had left, and quickly made a beeline to the living room.

You were just getting back onto your feet when he rounded the corner, and he felt his shoulders relax when he saw that you were okay. That was until you turned to face him, and he saw the blood dripping down your chin from the cut on your lip. And his vision turned red.

“Wooyoung, wait!” you called out to him as he made a beeline for the door, quickly grabbing his arm. “Wooyoung, stop; you can’t go after them!" you exclaimed as you tugged him back until he turned to look at you.

“Look at what they did to you; they need to pay.” He growled as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently swiping over the cut, causing you to hiss.

“I’m fine, but you can’t go after them. You alone are no match for all of them.” You explained, and he let out a defeated sigh, knowing that you were right.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling away and grabbing your hand. "Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He then dragged you to the kitchen, sitting you on the same stool that he had been in just a while ago, the first aid kit in his hands.

You watched him endearingly as he cleaned up the blood from your busted lip before putting a plaster over the cut. After he was done, he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, pulled you into his chest, and you instantly wrapped your arms around his torso.

“They shouldn’t bother us again, at least not for a long time, if they don’t want to get in trouble for harassing a human.” You told him as you rested your chin on his chest, staring up at him. He looked down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

“That's good because I can’t promise I’ll just sit idly by if they show up again.” He growled, and you knew he wasn’t joking, so you hoped they wouldn’t show their faces again.

You sat in his hold for a few more moments before pulling away and offering him a small smile "Why don’t you go get cleaned up, and I’ll make lunch?”

Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile, but he also wasn’t quick to leave your side just yet, so he refused, staying with you in the kitchen while you cooked. His playful remarks and teasing nature almost made everything feel normal once again.

But nothing fully dissipated until you were curled up on the couch with Wooyoung, watching some random movie while the both of you ate, enjoying each other’s company.

In the weeks after, there were no signs of those hunters, and you couldn’t be happier. You and Wooyoung were more than content with each other's company, even if his cockiness and teasing drove you to your wit's end.

The both of you were happy, and that was more than enough for you.

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮

[someonellly]

heat wave

[ J. Yunho ]

╚═════════

summary: in which your brother’s best friend helps you during your heat

warning: alpha dom yunho, sub omega reader, unprotected sex, claiming, biting, scenting, early heat, mating, knotting, slight breeding kink, semi public sex

genre: romance, smut

pairing: alpha yunho x omega afab reader

word count: 3.8k

note: this was requested anonymously but thank you for it because I enjoyed writing this too much 🤭

masterlist

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The car ride was already too warm, even with the AC blasting and the ocean air drifting in through cracked windows.

You sat in the backseat, legs curled beneath you, tank top sticking to your lower back from sweat. The music was low, some playlist Yeosang had made for the summer, and your half brother San was in the passenger seat up front, arm out the window like he owned the world.

Yunho was driving.

And you were trying not to squirm.

It had started that morning, the slow, low pulse in your core, the sudden heat flushing through your skin. You’d brushed it off as nerves, maybe excitement. You hadn’t seen the boys in a while with being at college.

But now, in the tight space of the car, between the weight of Yunho’s scent and the increasing slick dampening your shorts, you knew better.

Your heat was coming.

Too early. You’d miscalculated. You always had a few more days after the headaches started. But now? Your thighs were slick. Your pulse was rapid. And Yunho kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror like he already knew.

You pressed your knees tighter together, willing your body to behave, heart pounding.

San was oblivious, chewing sunflower seeds and tossing the shells into a paper cup. He didn’t notice the way you kept shifting, or how you’d rolled the window down further to get his scent out.

Yunho’s scent.

It was worse than you remembered. Stronger. Musky and warm like sandalwood and fire. It coiled around you in the car like a thick rope, subtle but unmistakably Alpha.

He cleared his throat once. Twice. “You alright, Y/N?”

His voice was deeper than usual. Too casual. But his eyes lingered when they flicked back in the mirror.

“Y…. Yeah.” You tried to smile, but your voice came out too soft, too breathy. You saw it hit him immediately. Yunho’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched, and he didn’t look in the mirror again after that.

By the time you arrived at the beach house, the sky had turned a pale, hazy gold. The house sat at the edge of the dunes, a long wrap around deck, high windows, and the sound of waves just beyond the trees.

It should’ve felt like paradise.

Instead, you were burning.

You pretended to help carry bags but ducked into the hallway bathroom the moment you could. You turned on the fan, pressed a cold towel to your neck, and bit back the whimper clawing its way up your throat.

Your body was drenched.

Your scent, sweet, thick omega arousal, was impossible to hide now. You knew it. And so did Yunho.

When you slipped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, you walked straight into him in the hallway.

“Sorry!” You froze. His arm had come out instinctively to steady you. Your body screamed at you to lean into him, let him scent you, touch you, fill you.

But you pulled away, too fast.

His nostrils flared. His pupils were dark.

“You should’ve told someone.” His voice was rougher now. Low, quiet, but laced with Alpha command. “It’s early. You’re in pre heat, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t speak.

He looked down at you, his hand still halfway raised like he wanted to touch you. His scent was rolling off him in heavy waves now, desire barely restrained.

“I’m fine,” you whispered. “I’ll lock my door tonight.”

His jaw ticked. “That won’t help if you’re loud.”

You swallowed. “I’ll be quiet.”

He took a slow step closer. You didn’t move. “If you need help,” he hesitated for a second. “I’m here.”

You didn’t trust your voice anymore. You just looked up at him, eyes wide, body humming.

And you knew.

If you asked, he’d come to you.

Your brother’s best friend. The same one you’ve had a crush on forever.

“Pizza is here!” San’s voice rang throughout the house. You and Yunho practically jumped away from each other, making your way to the living room where Yeosang carried in three boxes of pizza.

You almost ate an entire pizza by yourself, the boys not saying anything. You were desperate to distract yourself from the constant ache of your heat, ignoring the way Yunho would glance at you, eyes dark, as if he were drinking you in.

“I’m gonna go to bed.” You jumped up, hands shaking, San arched a brow at you. “You ok?”

“Fine.” You answered too quickly, brushing him off. “Just tired, long car ride.”

You could feel Yunho’s gaze burning a hole in your back as you left to your room.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

You tried to wait it out.

Tried to stay in your room, quiet, curled in your sheets, fingers buried between your thighs and biting your pillow until you cried.

But it wasn’t enough. It never was.

You needed him.

If you need help, I’m here

You slipped down the hall barefoot in the dark, the moonlight pooling over the wood floors. His scent led you, spicy, electric, magnetic. His door was slightly open. You didn’t knock.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless, sweat clinging to his chest, one hand running through his hair like he was fighting a war in his head.

He looked up when you peeked inside.

“I can’t….” you gasped, feeling embarrassed. What if he wasn’t serious? What if he just meant to help you in a different way all together? “Yunho, it hurts.”

He stared at you for a long moment before standing up. “You’re so fucking lucky your brother is passed out downstairs.”

Then he was on you.

Mouth crashing to yours, hands already dragging your tank top up and over your head. You moaned as he shoved your shorts down, fingers grazing your slick.

“So fucking wet already…. god, you smell like mine.”

You whined at that, shuddering. Any coherent thought long gone the second he kissed you.

“You want to be bred, omega?” he growled, the alpha in him taking complete control. “Want me to knot you so deep you won’t be able to get out of bed?”

“Yes…. please, Alpha, I need it…”

He grabbed your thighs, tossed you onto the bed, and spread your legs. His tongue was on you before you could catch your breath, long, deep strokes through your folds, drinking your slick like he was starving.

Your hands clawed at the sheets. “Yunho…. please…. I can’t….” Every touch, every sensation was so much. You’d never had sex during heat before. Never been knotted before.

He growled into your cunt, the vibrations making you jerk. “Say it.”

“Yours….. I’m yours!”

He stood, yanked his boxers off, and climbed over you. His dick slapped against you, thick, flushed, and already leaking. You sobbed at the sight.

“Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you feel so good.”

When he pushed in, you screamed in pure bliss, shaking, shuddering at the stretch.

It was too much.

Too wide. Too deep. But your body welcomed it, greedy, slick walls clenching around him like it knew him already.

He fucked you slow at first. Long, deep strokes that made your toes curl, his hips grinding into your ass. His mouth stayed on your neck, teeth teasing your gland, breath hot.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Faster… Yunho…. more… please…”

He growled and flipped you over, pulling your hips up so your knees barely touched the bed. Then he slammed in again, over and over, fast, brutal, perfect.

You sobbed into the pillows as your orgasm slammed through you, your body locking up, your cunt milking him.

“Good girl…. such a good little omega… taking your Alpha so well.”

You felt the swell of his knot beginning, stretching you more with each thrust. “Gonna knot you now, baby,” he groaned. “Gonna fuck it in and keep you full.”

You screamed when it locked, the thick bulb stretching you wide as he came, hot and endless, deep inside you.

You were trembling, body pulsing around him, stuck together now. His knot throbbed inside you, his arms tight around your waist as he kissed your spine, murmuring. “You did so good. So fucking pretty when you come. You’re mine now. You know that, right?”

You nodded, tears of relief slipping down your cheeks. “I’m yours.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The morning light felt too bright.

You barely managed to wash up and throw on a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized tee, Yunho’s, you realized. It still smelled like him, and the second you slipped it over your flushed skin, your body gave a needy shiver.

Your thighs still ached from the night before. Your skin tingled from where his teeth had marked just beside your scent gland.

But you were still in heat.

The ache hadn’t gone away, just dulled slightly under the weight of Yunho’s knot and his scent and the way he curled around you all night like he was afraid you’d disappear.

You didn’t expect to be woken up by San pounding on the door.

“Wake up! Hike day! The trail’s only shaded until noon!”

You froze. Yunho, still tangled up with you, still inside you, his knot now soft, muttered a curse and pressed his face into your neck.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he growled.

“We don’t have to….”

“He’ll get suspicious if we don’t show. Just… stay close to me.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

You couldn’t meet Yeosang’s eyes as you climbed into the back of the Jeep with him. He looked a little too knowing. San, of course, was all energy and excitement, water bottles, snacks, an old bandana tied around his head like a scout leader.

Yunho walked behind you the entire time, his hand grazing the small of your back whenever you stumbled, his body an ever present shadow.

Your scent was lighter now, masked with suppressing spray you found in the bottom of your bag and layers of sunscreen. But the way his pupils stayed dilated? The way his jaw clenched every time the wind shifted your scent toward him?

You knew the heat was still affecting you both.

And you knew something was going to snap.

You barely made it halfway up the trail before you started feeling it again.

The ache. The pulse. The slow slick build between your thighs that made your steps shorter and your skin hotter.

Yunho noticed first.

He leaned in under the guise of tightening your backpack strap, his lips brushing your ear. “Can’t wait any longer? You need it again, don’t you?”

You nodded helplessly.

He glanced up the trail, where San and Yeosang were arguing over whether to take the right or left fork. Then he grabbed your hand. “Come with me.”

You didn’t hesitate.

He didn’t even wait until you were fully hidden in the trees. Just far enough that their voices were gone, the air thick with pine and earth, your scent already blooming again, syrupy and sweet.

Yunho pressed you against the nearest tree, mouth crashing to yours, tongue deep and possessive, hands under your shirt like he couldn’t bear the distance of clothing.

“You’re soaking through these shorts,” he growled against your lips. “Your heat’s calling to me like a fucking siren.”

“Need you…. Alpha…. please..”

“You’re gonna take my knot right here, baby? Out in the woods where anyone could find us?”

You whimpered, head tipped back. “Yes… need you inside…”

He didn’t need to hear more.

He ripped your shorts down, barely giving you time to brace before he spun you around and bent you forward against the tree trunk. His hand snaked under your belly, lifting your hips just right.

And then he pushed in.

Your body welcomed him, slick and open and already spasming. His dick slid home with a loud, wet sound, both of you gasping at the sudden stretch.

“Fuck… so tight, so perfect…”

He started moving instantly, hips snapping into yours with sharp, possessive thrusts. His hand stayed around your waist, keeping you anchored as he drove deeper and deeper, the knot beginning to swell again.

Birds scattered from the trees from how loud you were, your moans echoing through the woods.

“You gonna come for me again?” he hissed. “You gonna milk my dick like you did last night?”

“Please… please, I’m so close”

He slammed in deeper, rutting like the heat had taken him over. One hand came up to your throat, pulling you back against his chest.

“You’re mine, omega. My scent’s all over you. My knot’s been in you all night. Say it.”

“Yours… Yours, Yunho… Alpha, I’m yours!”

That was it.

He bit down on your neck again, still not your scent gland, but enough to bruise, and with a broken growl, he came, knot locking tight inside you as his dick pulsed with hot, endless release.

You shattered around him.

Body twitching, cunt clenching tight, your vision going white as you sagged against the tree and let him hold you there.

After a few moments, he carefully guided you down to the soft moss, his arms still wrapped around you as he whispered praise into your ear. “So good for me. My pretty little omega. Always gonna take care of you.”

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, still panting, still trembling.

“San’s gonna kill you if he finds out.” Maybe not.

Yunho chuckled against your temple, breath warm. “Let him try.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The sun had sunk into the horizon hours ago, bleeding gold and fire into the sea before giving way to a blanket of stars. The breeze was cooler now, ruffling through the gauzy curtains that framed the open patio doors.

San was at the grill, flipping shrimp with a beer in one hand, his bandana crooked on his forehead. Yeosang was on his second glass of wine, legs kicked up on the railing, pretending not to be watching everything.

And you were sitting at the table, trying to act normal.

But Yunho’s thigh was pressed against yours.

And your core was still aching.

You were on edge, high strung, over aware, heat rattled. The ache hadn’t faded, if anything, it had deepened after the second time. Your scent was mostly masked, and you’d spent the last hour pressed against a cold glass of water in a vain attempt to cool down.

Yunho wasn’t faring much better. His voice was hoarse from hiking. His neck was flushed, hair damp from a shower, and his eyes flicked to you every few minutes like he couldn’t stop himself.

San sat down with the last plate of food and grinned like a man proud of himself.

“God, today was perfect. We’re doing the long trail tomorrow. Maybe the one with the cliffs, oh!” He pointed his fork at the two of you. “Where the hell did you two disappear to today?”

Your heart stopped and you went still mid bite.

Yunho, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He reached for his drink slowly. “She twisted her ankle a little,” he said smoothly. “We doubled back the lower trail. Took it slow.”

You nodded quickly, mouth full. “Yeah. It was nothing.”

San squinted. “Seriously? You okay? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Ever the protective brother.

“I’m fine.” You waved a hand, barely forcing a smile. “Didn’t wanna make a big deal.”

It might’ve worked. It almost worked.

If Yeosang hadn’t snorted into his wine.

You turned slowly. Yunho stiffened beside you.

Yeosang didn’t look at you. He just swirled his wine and stared at the liquid like it had wronged him.

“What?” San asked, confused.

Yeosang looked up, eyes lazy. “Nothing.”

San blinked. “You laughed.”

Yeosang tilted his head. “Did I?”

Yunho’s fingers were clenched around his glass so tightly you were afraid it might shatter.

Yeosang didn’t even bother pretending to not enjoy it.

“I just think it’s funny,” he said, slow and casual, “that someone who twisted their ankle still managed to scream loud enough to wake me up at three in the morning last night.”

The entire table went still.

Yunho swore under his breath. You choked.

San frowned. “Wait…. what?”

Yeosang leaned back, the picture of calm. “Walls are thin. And I’m a light sleeper. Really light. Especially when someone’s… y’know. Trying to claim someone’s sister.”

You dropped your fork.

San stared. “Wait. Who…. wait, what?”

Yeosang smiled. “You’re the only omega in the house, Y/N.”

You wanted to die.

Yunho reached for your hand under the table, protective, subtle, and you let him take it.

San looked between the three of you. “Wait, wait. Someone explain. What the fuck is going on right now?”

Yeosang took a sip of wine. “Ask your best friend.”

There was a long pause of silence. San looking back and forth between you and Yunho.

I’m not mad,” He finally spoke. “I’m just… disturbed.” He really could have went the rest of his life without knowing his best friend….. knotted his sister.

You and Yunho both sighed in relief and sat on the deck like kids caught sneaking out. You’d expected yelling. Rage. A storm. But San just kept poking at his empty dinner plate like he was mourning the loss of his innocence.

“You’re my best friend,” he said to Yunho, making a face. “And you’re my sister. So that means this is… like… double disgusting.”

“Technically we’re half siblings,” you mumbled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Not helping.”

Yunho winced. “Look, San…”

“Don’t.” San waved him off, shuddering dramatically. “If you say one word about her, I’m throwing myself into the ocean.”

You squeaked in horror. Yunho turned beet red.

Yeosang, still sipping wine behind you both, gave a slow, satisfied clap. “Honestly, I’m proud of how this all came out. A little traumatic, but narratively satisfying.”

By the time the house had quieted, it was past midnight.

The stars were sharp above you, a spray of silver scattered across the velvet sky. The ocean was a low hum beyond the dunes, and the full moon hung huge and watchful overhead. The breeze was cool on your flushed skin as you padded barefoot across the deck.

Yunho was waiting by the edge of the stairs.

He held out his hand without a word.

The sand was cool and damp beneath your feet. The moonlight painted the waves silver, glinting off the white foam as they rolled in slow and steady. You walked in silence for a long while, hand in hand, your heart thudding with something more than heat.

When he spoke, it was soft. Barely above the hush of the sea. “I almost didn’t come to the beach house this summer.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Why?”

“Because I knew this would happen.” He stopped walking, turning to you. “I knew if I saw you again….. I’d finally give in.”

His voice shook at the end. The wind caught it and carried it away.

You swallowed hard, throat aching.

Then he pulled you into him.

The kiss was different this time. Not wild or frenzied, but deep. Full of everything he hadn’t said. His lips were warm, his hands gentle as they cupped your jaw. You melted into it, your fingers gripping his shirt like it anchored you to the moment.

When you pulled apart, his forehead pressed to yours. His breath was trembling.

“Let me do it right this time.”

You nodded, breathless. “Please.”

He guided you down slowly, taking his shirt off, laying it out onto the sand before lowering you onto it. The waves whispered nearby. The moon watched. The world shrank to just you and him.

He undressed you slowly.

No rush, no panic, just reverence. Each inch of skin he bared, he kissed. Your throat. Your collarbone. The valley between your breasts. Your hips, where his fingers brushed over the curves.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, eyes heavy lidded. “You always have been.”

You reached for him, fingers trailing up his chest, his lean muscles gleaming under the moonlight. You couldn’t stop touching him. His chest. His arms. The strong lines of his torso. He trembled under your hands like you had magic in your fingers.

When he finally slid between your thighs, you were already slick and throbbing.

But he didn’t rush.

He cupped your face as he pressed inside you, inch by inch, watching every expression, waiting for your gasp, that breathy moan that told him he was home. You arched beneath him, hands fisting in the shirt beneath you.

“Yunho…”

“I know, baby. I know. I’ve got you.”

His pace was slow at first. Deep, rolling thrusts that made you whimper and cling to him. The stretch was delicious. The pressure perfect. Every thrust was laced with devotion, like he was memorizing how your body opened for him, welcomed him in.

His forehead rested against yours. His lips brushed your cheeks, your nose, your chin.

“I love you,” he whispered, breath catching. “I’ve loved you since we were teenagers and you asked me to teach you how to drive.”

You kissed him, moaning into his mouth as he rocked into you harder now. The rhythm built slowly, steadily, like the tide coming in. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the backs of his thighs as you urged him deeper.

“Yunho… need you… want all of you…”

“You have me,” he growled, the edge of his control fraying. “You have me.”

His hand slid between your bodies, thumb finding your clit. You shattered, eyes rolling back, body clenching so hard around him he nearly lost it. You sobbed his name, a broken, “I love you too,” as your orgasm pulsed through you, your body arching into his.

He buried himself deep, thrusting hard now, chasing his own release.

“I’m gonna knot you, baby. Gonna fill you so good. Wanna claim you under this moon… make it forever…”

“Yes… yes, please… do it!”

The knot began to swell, thickening inside you, stretching you wide again. You moaned as your body took it, your hands gripping his shoulders, your mouth on his jaw.

He bit you. His teeth sank into your scent gland, the claiming bite deep and final, binding you to him. You cried out as it sent another orgasm slamming through you, cunt fluttering around his knot as he groaned your name into your throat.

He came hard.

Hot, endless release flooding you, locked inside by the knot, your bodies fused under the full moon, claimed in every sense of the word.

You stayed like that, tangled together, breathless, trembling, as the waves rolled in the distance and the sky slowly shifted above you.

His fingers brushed your cheek. “You’re mine.”

“I always was.”

He kissed you again, long and slow.

And the world was nothing but you, him, and the ocean singing to the moon.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ecriggs1990 @straytiny127 @sannies-tiddies @hannahstacos

[someonellly]

Rhythm and Ruin

pairing(s) : Choi Jongho x choreographer! reader

word count : 3815

summary : When teasing Jongho during late-night dance practice turns into a battle of control, you find yourself pinned, wrecked, and ruined by the quietest member of the group—who turns out to be anything but gentle behind closed doors. Cocky mouths get fucked, bratty attitudes get corrected, and you? You get stuffed full, overstimulated, and made to remember exactly who he is.

genre : smut

warning(s) : explicit sexual content, rough sex, manhandling, overstimulation, cockwarming, possessive behavior, dominance/brat dynamics, mirror play, semi-public setting (dance practice room), slight degradation. Let me know if I missed anything!

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

You were never easy on him.

“Again,” you snapped, arms crossed as Jongho’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Sweat dripped from his temple, soaking through the thin black tank top clinging to his chest. “Your pop on eight is half a beat late. Fix it.”

He gave you a sharp glance through those dark lashes, jaw tight, chest heaving—but said nothing. Just nodded once, jaw flexing, and moved back to formation. Ever the obedient trainee. Ever the silent one.

You watched the set again from the speaker’s edge, eyes fixed on him. Precision in every move, powerful lines, and that body—taut, coiled, restrained. Jongho was never the flashiest, but he commanded attention. And you knew exactly how far to push him to bring it out.

“Better,” you murmured when the music stopped. “But not good enough.”

He rolled his neck, muscles rippling beneath sweat-slick skin. “Want me to bleed for it next time?”

Your brow arched. “If that’s what it takes.”

There it was—the flicker in his eyes. The tension that had been building all week. No, longer. Every time you corrected him. Every time you adjusted his hips or pressed his shoulders just so. Every time you praised the others louder than him. He soaked it all in like a sponge—and you knew, eventually, he’d snap.

Good.

That’s what you wanted.

You circled behind him slowly, your footsteps deliberate against the wooden floor. The air in the practice room was thick—humid with heat, layered with tension. The rest of the team had gone home hours ago. Just the two of you now.

“Reset from the chorus,” you said coolly, voice dipping low. “And this time… don’t hold back.”

You knew exactly what you were doing.

He moved into position, jaw tight, eyes flicking to the mirror to find your reflection. You didn’t smile. You just watched. Waited. Measured his restraint like a weapon.

The beat kicked in.

He danced like a storm—every move sharp and deliberate, muscle memory and frustration guiding him. There was something aggressive about the way he hit every count now. Not just following choreography. Challenging you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, resisting the shiver that crawled down your spine.

The track ended. Silence bloomed.

Jongho turned toward you slowly, chest heaving, lips parted.

“Well?” he asked, voice rough, just a little deeper than usual.

You tilted your head. “Still a fraction behind the beat at the end.”

The sound he made was soft. Almost a laugh. Almost.

And then—he stepped toward you.

Your breath caught.

“You’ve been riding me hard all week,” he murmured, wiping his jaw with the back of his hand. “Is that what you want? Me losing control? So you can say I broke?”

You stood your ground. “I want you to listen. To follow direction.”

He was in front of you now. Close. Too close.

“I’ve been listening,” he growled, voice dropping, heat pouring off him. “But maybe it’s time you learn to stop pushing.”

He stared at you like he was waiting for permission.

“You gonna do something, Jongho?” you murmured, chin tilted up, voice calm despite the thrum of your pulse. “Or are you just gonna stand there and breathe heavy until I dismiss you?”

His nostrils flared.

You smiled, slow and sharp.

“I know that look,” you said, voice like velvet laced with taunt. “You think you’re intimidating me? Please. I’ve handled bigger attitudes than yours.”

He leaned in slightly, just enough that his breath hit your lips. “That so?”

You nodded, cocky and cool, hands sliding up your own hips lazily. “Mm. You’re good—but you’re not irreplaceable. So unless you want to stop wasting my time, you better get your shit together and—”

His hand hit the mirror beside your head, hard enough to make the glass tremble. You didn’t flinch.

But oh… he didn’t move away either.

His eyes dropped to your mouth. His jaw ticked. That deep, low inhale came from somewhere in his chest.

“I’ve been letting you talk,” he said through clenched teeth. “Because I respect you.”

You licked your lips slowly, dragging it out, knowing he was watching every second.

“But if you think I’m just some rookie you can boss around without consequence…” he whispered, his voice dropping until it was barely audible, dangerous, “…you’re out of your damn mind.”

You tilted your head, smug.

“Oh, Jongho,” you said sweetly. “Is that a threat?”

Silence.

Then—

“No,” he said, voice thick. “It’s a fucking promise.”

And just like that, the dam cracked.

He reached for you—not gentle, not soft—hands gripping your thighs and lifting you clean off the ground like you weighed nothing. Your back slammed into the mirror again, legs spread around his waist as your breath hitched in surprise.

His mouth hovered over yours, lips barely brushing. “You’ve been begging for this,” he growled. “Every correction. Every insult. Every time you touched me like I wouldn’t notice.”

Your fingers curled into his shoulders, nails pressing against muscle.

And when you smirked again, cocky and challenging—

He snapped.

His mouth crashed into yours—hot, demanding, messy. Nothing soft, nothing sweet. Just pure frustration and weeks of tension unleashed. You moaned into him, hands fisting into his shirt, but he didn’t let you take control.

No, Jongho took.

His tongue pushed past your lips, teeth nipping at the corner of your mouth like he wanted to mark you. He pressed his body into yours, hard chest against your torso, caging you to the mirror while your legs locked around his waist.

When he pulled away, a string of spit connected your lips—and he smirked. Finally, that cocky look was on his face.

“You like being thrown around, huh?” he murmured, one hand gripping your thigh, the other slipping beneath your top, palm dragging slowly up your stomach. “So fuckin’ smug all the time. All that attitude.”

His thumb flicked your nipple, watching the way your body jolted.

“But look at you now.”

His hand moved down again, cupping between your thighs—pressing hard over the damp heat already soaking your shorts. His breath hitched when he felt it.

“You’re already wet?” he muttered, eyes dark with disbelief and something deeper. “Fucking knew it. Knew you were getting off on bossing me around.”

You tried to say something—tried to fire back—but all that came out was a gasp as he ground his palm into you, slow and punishing.

“Where’d that mouth go?” he asked low, voice rough as gravel. “All that shit you were talking. C’mon. Be a good coach and give me some notes.”

He dipped his head, lips dragging along your neck, tongue hot and slow as it traced up to your jaw. His teeth scraped skin, not hard enough to bite—but just enough to warn.

You whined, finally cracking.

That only made him grin wider.

“Thought so.”

He dropped you just enough to spin you around, pressing your chest to the mirror. Your breath fogged the glass, your nipples pebbled against the cool surface.

“Don’t move,” he growled behind you, tugging your shorts down inch by inch. His fingers dragged along your thighs, rough calluses scraping skin, before he grabbed your ass—spreading it, squeezing, groaning under his breath. “You’ve had this pretty little thing in front of me every day, thinking I wouldn’t touch?”

You braced your hands against the mirror, heart slamming in your chest.

“You wanted this. Wanted me like this.”

His fingers slipped between your legs, finally touching bare skin.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re soaked. Dripping down your thighs.”

He rubbed slow circles, teasing, torturing. Never quite giving you what you needed. You pressed your hips back, but he stilled you with one arm around your waist.

“Not yet,” he breathed, lips brushing your ear. “I’m gonna take my time.”

Then—two fingers, thick and slow, pushed inside. The stretch was perfect, maddening, enough to make you cry out and bite your own lip against the sound.

He groaned behind you, low and raw. “That’s it,” he whispered, curling them just right. “Take it. Take all of it.”

“Jongho—fuck—please,” you gasped, forehead pressed against the mirror, voice broken and needy.

He laughed.

Not soft, not cruel—just dark amusement, the kind that laced his voice like honeyed poison.

“Aww,” he drawled, curling his fingers deeper inside you, slow and firm. “Now you know how to say please?”

You bucked your hips in response, desperate for more. But he didn’t move faster.

He didn’t need to.

“That the same mouth that told me I was replaceable?” he teased, pumping his fingers with deliberate control, eyes locked on your reflection. “Doesn’t sound so tough now, sweetheart.”

Your moans got louder as he hit that spot inside you again and again, slick sounds filling the room with every drag of his fingers.

“Listen to you,” he muttered, lips close to your ear. “You’re soaking my fucking hand, whining like a little slut. Bet the whole damn building could hear you if I let you scream.”

You turned your head to glare at him, eyes glassy and burning—but he loved that look. That mix of frustration and arousal, of wanting to fight but needing to cum so bad it hurt.

And he couldn’t help it—he kissed you again, filthy and deep, tongue tangling with yours as his fingers sped up, thumb circling your clit with ruthless rhythm.

You cried out into his mouth, and that broke something in him.

He pulled back just to watch you fall apart, lips swollen, chest heaving, legs trembling around his wrist.

“You’re gonna cum just like this?” he asked, mock surprise dripping from every word. “Not even my cock yet. You’re that fucking needy?”

You nodded, frantic, whining his name in pieces. “Please—please, let me—”

He chuckled low. “Oh, now you ask nice. Go ahead, then.”

His fingers fucked you harder, meaner, curling right into that sweet, unbearable spot. His other hand held your throat now—lightly, just pressure—keeping you right where he wanted you.

“Cum for me,” he whispered in your ear. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so deep, you forget how to boss anyone around.”

And you shattered.

Your moan was wild, guttural—head falling back, walls clenching around his fingers as heat bloomed through your whole body. You slumped, boneless, breath fogging the glass in front of you.

Jongho withdrew his fingers with a wet sound, admiring the slick coating them. “Look at this mess,” he muttered, licking one finger slowly while holding your gaze in the mirror. “And we’re just getting started.”

He stepped back just long enough to shove his sweats down, cock hard and heavy, flushed dark with need.

“You ready?” he asked, cocky but hungry now.

You nodded desperately.

He lined himself up, dragging the tip through your folds, teasing your oversensitive clit just to hear you gasp again.

“Oh no,” he said, leaning down to whisper with a wicked grin, “use that smart mouth, baby. Tell me you want it.”

You didn’t answer fast enough.

So Jongho slapped the head of his cock against your soaked folds—once, twice, hard enough to make you jolt.

“Use. Your. Fucking. Words,” he snarled, the usual softness in his tone completely gone now. “Beg for it, like the needy little thing you’ve been pretending not to be.”

You were panting, wrecked already, forehead still pressed to the mirror, lips parted and wet from his kiss. “Jongho… fuck me. Please. I need your cock—need it so bad.”

He hissed through his teeth, lining himself up and pushing in slow.

Thick. Hot. Fucking perfect.

You choked on your own moan as he split you open, inch by inch. No mercy. No rush. Just the heavy stretch of him filling you until your legs shook and your hands clawed at the mirror for something—anything—to hold on to.

“That’s it,” he groaned, hips rolling until he bottomed out. “Tight little cunt’s fuckin’ starving for cock, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yeah—fuck—you feel so—so big—”

He pulled out halfway and slammed back in, sharp and brutal, forcing a scream out of you.

“That too much?” he mocked, hips snapping into you, pace unrelenting. “But you were all mouth earlier. Thought you could take it?”

Your answer was a sob and a garbled whimper of his name.

He leaned over you again, teeth grazing your ear. “I’m gonna fuck that brat out of you, baby. Gonna make you cum on this cock until you forget how to talk back.”

His grip on your waist was bruising now, dragging you back onto every thrust like you were just a fucktoy built for this—meant to be used, meant to be ruined. His other hand snaked up your shirt, grabbing one of your tits, pinching your nipple so hard it made you jolt and clench around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice all ragged heat. “This pussy’s choking me. Look at yourself, baby.”

You blinked at your reflection.

You were a mess—sweaty, flushed, hair ruined, mouth open in a permanent moan. Eyes glassy. Lips kiss-bruised. And your ass bouncing against his hips as he fucked you like he wanted to break you in half.

“God, you love this, don’t you?” he growled, slamming into you with a sharp thrust that made your knees buckle. “Fucked dumb on my cock, dripping all over me. Bet you wish I’d done this weeks ago.”

Your voice was high and fucked-out now. “More—please, Jongho, don’t stop—”

“Oh, you’re not getting me to stop,” he growled, one hand tangling in your hair to yank your head back, forcing your mouth open in a gasp. “You’re not done ‘til I say you’re done.”

He pulled out, and you whimpered in protest—only for him to flip you around, lift your leg over his shoulder, and thrust back into you with zero warning. You screamed his name this time, body jerking from the sheer force of it.

“Yeah,” he hissed. “That’s it. Scream for me. Let everyone fucking hear who’s wrecking you.”

He was so deep now it felt like he was in your throat, his hips grinding just right, balls slapping against you wetly with every thrust. Your nails dug into his arms, into his back, your moans hitting a higher pitch as the coil in your belly started to snap tight again.

“Shit—Jongho—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“You better,” he growled, jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his neck. “You better fucking cream on my cock like you were made for it.”

He moved faster—meaner—grinding into that sweet spot with every thrust, fingers tight on your hip, until—

You exploded.

Your scream was guttural, back arching, whole body locking up as your pussy fluttered around his cock, squeezing him so tight he cursed and slammed in even harder.

“That’s it. Take it. Fuck, you’re so good for me when you’re like this,” he hissed, voice ragged. “Gonna fill you up, baby. You want that? Want my cum leaking outta you while you limp out of here?”

You nodded frantically, barely coherent, whining, “Please, cum in me—want it—need it—fuck, fill me up—”

That broke him.

With a strangled groan, Jongho buried himself deep, spilling inside you in hot, thick pulses that made your whole body tremble again. His teeth sank into your shoulder, muffling a groan as he emptied every drop into you, twitching with each breath.

He reached for your discarded shirt and wiped between your thighs carefully, almost reverently—though he paused to watch the way your pussy fluttered around nothing, his cum starting to drip out of you, sticky and glistening.

Fuck. His cock twitched.

Still… he took a breath, kissing your shoulder. “You did so good, baby.”

You whined at the praise, eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you into his arms, settling you gently on the hardwood floor of the dance practice room, where the only light came from the flickering ceiling panels and your fogged-up reflections on the mirrored wall.

Your head fell against his chest, breathing shallow, skin flushed and tacky from sweat. He cradled you for a moment, fingers dragging slow circles over your lower back, tracing invisible patterns while your muscles still twitched from aftershocks.

But then you felt it—pressing hot and heavy against your thigh.

“Again?” you asked, voice small and rough.

He didn’t answer right away. Just dragged his fingers up your spine, then tilted your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were darker now—hooded, molten, possessive.

“Thought you were cocky,” he murmured. “Thought you could handle me.”

You blinked, heartbeat spiking.

His cock was hard again, throbbing against your leg. You hadn’t even processed your second orgasm and he was already teasing your entrance with the leaking tip, guiding it back to your still-sensitive folds.

“You gonna run your mouth again,” he asked, “or just moan like a good little slut this time?”

You bit his lip in answer.

And he fucking snapped.

Jongho flipped you over onto your stomach in one motion, dragging your hips up until you were on your knees, face pressed to the cool mirror wall, tits barely brushing the surface.

“You wanna act like a brat?” he growled, rubbing his cock between your folds again, smearing more of his cum and spit all over your slick pussy. “Fine. You get fucked like one.”

He shoved in without warning.

No teasing this time. Just a raw, deep thrust that punched the air out of your lungs, the stretch somehow more intense than before—like your walls had molded to him and were still trying to recover.

You let out a choked cry, face pressed to the glass, cheek streaking sweat against it.

Jongho leaned forward, chest flush to your back, lips right against your ear. “Look at you,” he murmured, taunting, thrusting slow but deep. “You thought you could tease me, play with me like I wouldn’t bite back.”

Another thrust. Harder.

“You forget who you're dealing with, baby?”

You tried to speak—tried to sass back—but your voice cracked on a moan as he fucked you deeper, angle perfect, cock dragging along your oversensitive walls with a rhythm that had you sobbing into the mirror.

“I said look,” he hissed.

He gripped your jaw, forcing your head up until you locked eyes with your reflection.

You looked ruined.

Mascara smudged. Lips red and spit-slick. Hair wild. Tits bouncing with every thrust. Your mouth fell open again in a helpless moan as Jongho slammed into you harder, hips snapping against the backs of your thighs.

“That’s what you look like,” he said low, “when I’m fucking the attitude out of you.”

You clenched around him at the words—tight—and he felt it.

“Oh? That get you off, sweetheart? Being put in your place?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Your hands clawed at the mirror now, trying to ground yourself as he drilled into you, sweat dripping from both your bodies, the room filled with the sound of skin on skin and your wrecked little cries.

“Go on,” he growled, voice shaking now with restraint. “Cum again. Let me feel it.”

You came hard.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, your cunt milking him with rhythmic, desperate clenches as you collapsed forward, thighs trembling.

Jongho cursed under his breath—lost it—and chased his high right behind you.

He didn’t pull out.

Not this time.

He buried himself so deep you swore you could taste it, pumping you full again with low, rough groans, head buried in the crook of your neck.

You both stayed like that for a moment. Panting. Sweating. His cock twitching inside you, your bodies pressed together like you couldn’t bear to be apart.

And then his voice again, low and teasing near your ear:

“Still think I’m just the quiet one?”

Your body was boneless—sprawled across the cool floor of the dance room, limbs twitching, breath shallow. Jongho didn’t move.

Not even when your walls fluttered again around him.

He was still inside you.

Still thick, still heavy, still hard.

Your breath caught. “You’re… still—”

“Shh,” he whispered against your ear, hips barely shifting. “Don’t move.”

He kept you there, folded underneath him, both of you facing the mirror, sweat and slick smeared across your thighs. His cock nestled deep inside your pulsing cunt like it belonged there, twitching every time you clenched.

“You’re keeping me warm, baby,” he murmured, mouth brushing your shoulder as he licked at the bite mark he left earlier. “Look at you… so fucked out you can’t even sass me anymore.”

You whimpered, trying to shift your hips.

He gripped your thigh tighter.

“Did I say you could move?”

You whined, needy.

“Aw, you miss it already? I haven’t even pulled out yet, and you’re already aching again.”

His fingers trailed down your front, ghosting over your abused clit—but never quite touching it.

You writhed helplessly. “Please…”

He chuckled. Dark. Mean.

“Oh? You want more?”

You nodded weakly, lips parted.

“You sure?” His teeth grazed your jaw. “You’ve been crying, moaning, twitching all night. Thought you were gonna black out a minute ago.”

Still, you gave him that look—half-begging, half-starved.

He kissed you. Deep. Sweet. Dirty.

Then his hips rolled forward slowly, pressing deeper, dragging a moan from your throat that made his cock twitch again.

“Yeah,” he groaned, low and filthy. “That’s the sound I wanted. You can stay just like this. Stuffed full. Dripping. Mine.”

You buried your face into his shoulder, whimpering as he kept you filled to the brim, cock stretching you gently while your body clenched and fluttered without rhythm. Not fucking—just holding—but still so intimate and obscene you were shaking again.

“You’re not leaving this room until I say so,” he whispered, licking the shell of your ear. “Not until I’ve memorized how this pretty pussy feels wrapped around me.”

You shivered.

“Not until you cum one more time,” he added.

One more.

But he didn’t thrust.

Just rolled his hips slowly. Barely.

Enough to rub your clit against his pelvis with each motion. Enough to make you cry, overstimulated and desperate, body begging for release.

And you gave it to him. One last time.

A soft, shattered moan, legs trembling again as your cunt clenched and fluttered around him. You came with a gasp, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound, your whole body going limp under him.

He groaned—filthy, satisfied—and kissed your neck again.

“Good fucking girl,” he whispered.

And he didn’t pull out.

Not for a long, long time.

[someonellly]

Attention - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🤳 Summary: Your attraction to Hwa, a camboy you enjoy watching late at night, unexpectedly spills into the real world.

🤳 Word count: 17.5k

🤳 Genre & warnings: smut one shot. camboy seonghwa with inexperienced reader. fem pronouns for reader. depictions of cigarette smoking. jerking off. biting, reader receiving. oral sex, both reader receiving and giving. messy blowjob with some gagging. 69. reader swallows. lots of dirty talk, reader is called "whore", "slut", and "good girl". fingering. pussy spanking. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

                Snuggling down into your bed clutching your phone, you turn on your side and look at the time. It’s late, past midnight. You should be sleeping but you’re wired, too awake from work. The blueish glow of your phone casts a translucent tint to your skin.

                You’re scrolling through Instagram but you know where you really want to go. Even though you’re entirely alone, you still are embarrassed while closing out of the app and bringing up the site. There is something tinged with desperation every time you go to his page. The feeling is even worse if you spend money; come morning, you scold yourself, the same lecture every single time about needing to go get laid or find a guy nearby to at least have a good time with.

                At least it would be better than throwing money at a cam boy, you argue, and cheaper to boot. Yet the promise never seems to stick. Sure, you might go a week, even two, before you end up on his page. But you always crack and crawl back.

                You aren’t even sure if he would be live tonight. But it’s Friday night and the chances are higher than usual that he might be. Some part of you hopes that he is, the other part of you dreads it. You ignore both emotions, navigating to his page and clicking on it.

                The profile loads – catboyhwa1117 – and there is a tiny green dot in the corner of his photo, indicating he is live. Your heart skips a beat while entering the stream.

                It connects, the picture is grainy for a few seconds and then snaps into clarity.

                “No, it’s supposed to rain tonight,” Hwa is saying in that deep familiar voice of his, “Supposed to rain all weekend.”

                He’s outside, going for a walk, most likely to grab a cigarette because he’s said before his roommate doesn’t want any smoking in the apartment. It’s too dark to make his face out but you can see the outline of the buildings behind him with their small windows glowing like fireflies in the dark.

                “Wait, I’m gonna stop here cuz the café is closed,” He says and there is a shuffling of his phone, a blur of streetlights and then it comes to a rest propped up on the table, “Okay, that works.”

                You can see him now, your heart constricting enough that a tide of embarrassment hits you in the chest over having such a reaction to someone you don’t actually know.

                There are a couple of things that make following Hwa on his cam for a year now both mystifying and agonizing. The first is that there is nothing about his appearance that usually lends itself to your type of guy. He smokes, which you typically find off putting, he has a ton of tattoos, his tongue is pierced, and he wears a lot of jewelry. He wears thin black t-shirts and jeans that hang low off his slender hips, sometimes even crop tops that show off his stomach and abs. He fits the stereotype of bad boy almost painfully so which would also be a turn off if it was apparent that nothing about it felt false in all the streams of his you’ve watched (which are numerous).

                The second thing is that you live in the same city.

                You didn’t know this at first when watching his streams. You stumbled across his profile late one night when you were exceptionally lonely and looking for any sort of human connection. There was something oddly captivating about his appearance, the way he talked to everyone as if he personally knew them and of course, how he looked when he decided to show off his body that made you weak in the knees. But the more you watched Hwa, the more you recognized places like the corner shop he’d pop into it, the backdrop of buildings behind him, the occasional bar he would go into to stream himself having a drink. The definite proof came one night when a popular musician came to town and he got stuck in the crowds after the show let out.

                That made watching Hwa a little too real. The possibility of running into him left you both terrified and exhilarated. You never dreamt of trying to find his location when he was streaming because that felt way too creepy. Admitting to Hwa that you tracked him down on a stream meant that you watched him touch himself on his shows and have seen him naked before and there was no way in hell you could look that man in the face and let him know that. No, better to leave it up to the universe than tempting fate yourself.

                There is a spark as Hwa lights up his cigarette, leaning close to the camera. The lighting here is better and you can see a silver necklace dangling in front of his chest. He’s wearing just a thin sleeveless black shirt tonight, exposing his toned arms which have a random assortment of tattoos on them. His jewelry is gaudy, big heavy ugly rings on his long and slender fingers. His black nail polish is chipping and he doesn’t seem to care. His cheekbones could cut glass and his eyelashes are so long that you’re kinda jealous.

                Even if I did run into him, he wouldn’t look twice at me, you think, knowing that your fashion sense is next to nonexistent and your superpower is the ability to blend into the background of any event and have no one notice you especially someone like Hwa.

                “Someone asked what we’re doing tonight,” Hwa says, his eyes scanning chat, “Do we ever do anything? ‘Are you going to jerk off tonight’ asked someone else. Frankly, I love the enthusiasm so I’ll consider it. ‘Is your band going to do a show soon’. I’m not in a band but I appreciate the conclusion you leapt to based off my appearance. I think I would look good in a band, not gonna lie.”

                You occasionally type in chat, too shy even through a screen to interact with Hwa regularly. That’s another reason you spend most of your time alone – your overpowering shyness that you can never seem to overcome even in chat rooms.

                There is another word that comes to mind when you watch Hwa’s streams – he’s what your friends would label a bit of a fuckboy. He knows he’s attractive, he’s confident to the point of arrogance, and is candid about how much he enjoys sex. Basically, if he wasn’t on your phone screen, you would steer clear of him out of fear that you would be unable to keep up with his pace and experience.

                But since he is just on your phone screen…well, it’s okay to watch from afar.

                “No, I’m going back to my place after this. I just needed a smoke and wanted to go for a walk, figured I’d say hi to everyone,” Hwa goes, leaning back against the metal chair. His black hair falls in front of his eyes a little and he pushes it away quickly. “Is there a reason everyone is hornier tonight than normal?” He isn’t wrong, the entire chat is filled with people simping harder than usual for him.

                “Full moon,” You type after hesitating for a few seconds.

                “BubblegumHeart said it’s the full moon,” He reads, sending a jolt through you as he says your username, “I think that one has a lot of merit. More merit than half of the other shit you guys are sending like it’s my sleeveless shirt.”

                In all honesty, it most likely is the sleeveless shirt, you think.

                Hwa waves the smoke out of his face, taking one long drag off the cigarette before smushing it against the table and standing up. You’re staring at his black jeans hanging loosely off his hips, a belt thrown lazily around his delicate waist and can feel your thighs clench. You don’t know why some random person online can make you this turned on and no one in reality can. Your sexual experience is pretty thin but even the few encounters you’ve had don’t make you as turned on as watching Hwa just casually existing.

                He picks up the camera, bringing his face back into view. Not for the first time, you find yourself admiring how plump his lips are and how occasionally a streetlight catches the tongue piercing when he talks and it glimmers for a brief millisecond. You’ve wondered before if the piercing would make him going down on you a different experience from your other ones.

                Both in the stream and in your bedroom, you hear a crack of thunder in the distance. Hwa looks over his shoulder, making a face.

                “Guess I better walk faster,” He remarks.

                You don’t type again in chat as he heads to his apartment. The time spent getting back to his place is mostly him flirting with people in the chat, typical of his streams. People toss money his way for more specific attention. If there is one thing Hwa is good at, it’s making everyone who throws money in his direction feel special. The attention is fleeting and means nothing but for those few moments where he gives a thoughtful response or more intense flirting; it makes everything else fade to the background. That’s why you’re here, after all, and why you’ve given him money yourself.

                Back at his apartment, the camera is covered until he gets into his bedroom to give his roommate respect and privacy. You know nothing about his roommate besides they don’t want him smoking in the apartment. Once Hwa is back in his bedroom, the phone is plopped onto its stand showing off his bed and large computer set up. He’s mentioned before he makes music in his spare time (synthwave, if you remember correctly, which is how the rumor he is in a band got started) and uses his computer to do it.

                Hwa seems to live permanently in mood lighting. A purple lava lamp is glowing on his desk, his computer has those light up rainbow keys you typically only see on the ratemysetup subreddit, and he flicks on one of those projector lights that sends hazy stars slowly across the ceiling, also in purple. You don’t think you’d recognize him in anything other than the dim lighting of bars, coloured lights or the glimmer from the moon.

                “Alright, sorry everyone but I’m switching to members only,” He says to the camera and your heart skips a beat, “If you wanna stick around, you can subscribe.”

                Hwa exclusively switched to members only streams when he started doing the sort of thing that makes your brain melt. Of course, you had subscribed around eight months ago in a fit of weakness and desire. The stream switches over to members only and you find yourself sitting up a little more in bed, eyes glued to the small screen of your phone.

                Hwa is sitting at the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair as he reads the chat. “‘Tell us about the last person you fucked’, no, I don’t talk about anything I do off camera with people. They didn’t agree to that. You guys know the rules, you’re just all rowdy tonight. Maybe this will calm you all down.”

                He stands up, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it onto the bed. You swallow hard, staring at Hwa shirtless. Your favourite thing about him like this is the snake tattoo that starts just above his hip bone, circles around his torso, goes up along his back before looping back onto his chest and ends with the snake head just underneath his collarbone. It’s black with hints of red, gorgeous against his skin and incredibly sexy for reasons you don’t understand. The first time you saw it, you almost fell out of bed and now you cling to any time he shows it off.

                Hwa is playing up the audience, knowing damn well that taking off his shirt won’t do a thing to settle anyone down, yourself included. Even though your logical mind knows better, you find yourself tossing him a few dollars to tell him how good he looks. When he says thanks, you squirm in bed, resisting the urge to touch yourself already.

                He pulls the belt off his pants, dropping it to the floor. His pants slide down another inch, exposing the top of his hip bones. Hwa seems to enjoy showing off on camera, getting off on the attention people give him whenever he decides to jerk off for everyone. You’d pass away before ever doing something like that in front of strangers but his confidence is appealing in a new way. You find yourself attracted to everything Hwa does even though you’ve never looked at guys like him before.

                “‘Can I hire you to fuck me’ no, you cannot but I appreciate the money,” Hwa says, unzipping his pants and lowering them to show off his boxers.

                You can see the bulge of his already hard cock and your hand wiggles down to the band of your own underwear. You can’t believe how turned on you are or how badly you want him, this man you’ll never have, this man who will never notice your existence outside of a throwaway line uttered to you during a stream.

                He runs his hand down the front of his boxers, fondling himself. The rings glitter in soft lights of his room as his cock grows harder. You think about being on your knees and taking Hwa in your mouth, wondering what it would be like to have him make a mess of your face with his cum while he talks dirty in that low voice of his. When it came to Hwa, you wanted to him fuck you in ways you hadn’t thought about before; it was as if you would do anything to be his dirty little whore.

                You end up giving him more money just to tell him how much you want to suck his cock as your hand dips underneath your underwear to touch your wet pussy.

                “BubblegumHeart wants to suck my cock. It’s funny how chatty you get whenever I’m half naked. Exceptionally quiet the entire stream minus a comment here or there and then dying for me to fuck their face,” Hwa says, pulling the boxers down as his cock springs free.

                The comment makes your head spin, your finger touching your clit with a jolt of pleasure at the sight of Hwa wrapping his hand around his length along with his dirty comment aimed at you. You think once again about being on your knees for him, his fingers gently tilting your chin upwards to look at him while stroking his cock. He’d call you his little slut, tell you to be his good girl and suck his dick. On the screen, Hwa is slowly jerking himself off, basking in the attention from everyone in chat. Your eyes are glued to the screen, not caring what anyone else is saying, just admiring the way his hand looks around his dick and how his balls must be full of cum. Your finger rubs your clit, pussy wet as you both watch him and daydream about what he would do to you.

                Hwa spits on his hand lewdly, smearing it across his cock. The tip is glistening with precum as he moves his hips slightly so there is a better angle of it shown to the camera. You’re thinking about how it’d feel in your mouth and how much of it you could take before it’d hit the back of your throat. You don’t care if you made a mess with Hwa, in fact most of your daydreams are centred around him fucking you for so long and so hard that you’re practically unrecognizable by the end.

                Hwa resumes jerking off, his painted fingernails a blur as he increases his speed. Your pussy is dripping wet, soaking through your underwear as you furiously rub your clit. In the purple hue of his bedroom, Hwa’s torso is bathed in soft colours, the snake looking almost sinister wrapped around him. The projector that rotates the stars occasionally has one or two land on his stomach for a couple of seconds before moving away, giving a small pinprick of bright light against his toned abs for a second.

                He slows down his speed, allowing a drop of precum to drip off the tip of his dick before resuming. You can hear how wet your pussy is, unable to stop as your climax draws closer watching Hwa. You want to run your tongue up along his snake tattoo, bounce in his lap and have his hands roam all over your body. The desire is a palpable thing, a beast that resides just under the surface of your skin. You know that a chance with Hwa will never happen and that wanting him this much is silly but watching him touch himself shatters all the borders you usually put up.

                Hwa’s breathing is heavy and maybe his moans are for the sake of the audience, you don’t know nor care, but he sounds positively delicious as his orgasm draws nearer. You can picture his hand curling around your neck, giving it a squeeze as he pounds you into the bed so hard that you could see stars. You’d let him do anything to you, be his doll –

                Hwa gasps and his climax begins. His load goes all over his hand, making a mess as he tries to stop it from getting everywhere. There is a ton of it, he always cums a lot, and your hips wiggle as your own orgasm begins at the sight of his load and the mental image of him coating your face with it.

                Your phone drops from your hands as you lose yourself to the pleasure, head rolled back against the pillow. As your body goes limp, you can hear Hwa talk about cleaning up his mess from where your phone fell onto the bed.

                Your cheeks burn with sudden embarrassment as the orgasm abates and reality sets in. Ashamed, you sit up and snatch your phone, exiting out of the live stream hastily as if someone is going to discover what you did.

                Plopping back in bed, you stare at the ceiling. The storm started at some point during the live stream, and now you listen to it strike against the roof. You force your eyes closed, knowing that come morning, you’ll be beating yourself up for spending money in the stream and for being down so badly over a person that will never know you exist.

*

                It’s Saturday night and for once you’re out at a bar although it wasn’t your idea. Two of your friends convinced you to come with them to a larger get together. It’s someone’s birthday but you aren’t exactly sure who.

                After a couple hours, you’re already ready to go home. The bar is loud, incredibly crowded since it’s the weekend, and you aren’t much of a drinker. Having only agreed so that they would keep inviting you to things, you idly wonder how much time you can put in here before it’s okay to leave.

                As usual, you end up on the outskirts of the group. Part of it is your choosing – too much social interaction makes your anxiety overwhelming – and part of it is just how things seemingly always go.

                The rain began hours ago, a torrent that wiped the entire city clean before slowing to a steady thrum. The bar smells like water, the city, smoke and too many perfumes and colognes battling for attention. Your back presses against the wall, watching as a cluster of people play pool, your friends order another round of shots and someone begins to drunkenly yell at someone who spilled their beer.

                You don’t think anyone would notice if you were to slink out now. The city makes it easy to get swallowed up in. Your nerves are frayed from all the anxiety and noise. Deciding to call it a night, you wiggle through the crowd, popping out of the entrance and into the rain.

                The temperature has dropped considerably since you were last outside. Taking a deep breath, you feel it freeze your lungs for a few seconds. You don’t have an umbrella but awkwardly shove yourself back into the oversized hoodie that had been removed earlier in the night.

                After wandering down the block, you stop in front of a bar that is swathed in dark and red, almost sinister looking. The windows are tinted and you can’t see inside. There are shadows against the windows, slightly distorted from whatever effect the glass has on it, making it look vaguely like a bar from the underworld. But the stoop directly in front is quiet and under an overhang which makes it a perfect spot to plop down at to give yourself a few minutes to settle your nerves.

                The concrete is cold against your fingertips. You tried to dress up tonight a bit which meant a skirt that ended right at your knees. Now, it just means you’re cold. You pull the hood up of your hoodie, trying to get warm. Rubbing your hands together, you idly watch the way the cars cut through the puddles and the streetlights shatter like glass in each ripple.

                You exhale slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet. Yes, you made the right call in leaving the bar. You’ll be home soon, crawling into your warm bed and into your dreams soon enough.

                You hear the door to the bar swing open followed by a burst of electronic music before it becomes muffled again. You don’t pay any attention to a few people leaving, their heads bowed together as they giggle. You think maybe, normally, you’d feel lonely at a moment like this. But right now, you are just so relieved to be in the quiet of the street versus all the earlier noise.

                The door opens again, another explosion of music for a couple of seconds. You tilt your face back, studying the way an apartment building looks as if it is touching the storm clouds. You wonder what each individual person in each apartment is doing –

                “Hey, do you have a light?”

                At first, you don’t think the voice could be directed at you. But as the silence stretches and you bring your head out of the clouds, the voice tries again.

                “Can never fucking tell if someone has Air Pods in. Honest to hell, it kinda drives me crazy…Hey, do you have a light?” The repeated question is a lot louder this time.

                That voice, you think as time comes to a crawl, there’s no way. You turn your head in the direction of it, your heart knowing before your brain that it is going to belong to…

                Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. There is you, freezing your ass off on concrete, and then there is him, the cam boy of your dreams, Hwa, standing right in front of you, slightly leaning forward, squinting as if trying to see if you have Air Pods in because your ears are covered by the hoodie.

                “No, I don’t smoke.” You hear your voice although it sounds very far away, as if it doesn’t belong to you.

                This cannot be happening.

                But it is. Hwa is wearing a thin black tank top with a fishnet shirt tossed over it, exposing his bare arms in the cut outs of the netting. A necklace with a small green pendant dangles in front of his leaning body, swinging gently like a pendulum. His black jeans are ripped, his knees exposed and most of his fingers have the familiar rings on that you’ve seen a ton of times in streams. The bar’s red light makes the tips of his black hair glow.

                “Oh, shame. Forgot to bring my lighter.”

                You are frozen, unsure what to do. Just don’t say anything about it and he’ll leave in a few seconds. This whole thing will feel like a fever dream. But that primal part of you, that part that responds to everything Hwa casually does on his streams, is stirring like a savage beast.

                “I didn’t see you inside,” Hwa continues, oblivious to the mental strife you’re currently suffering through.

                It feels like moving a boulder to try to speak a normal sentence. “Oh, I wasn’t inside. I was at the bar a few places down but I just left. It was really crowded and loud in there…” You trail off, immediately self-conscious about talking too much to the sexiest guy you’ve ever seen.

                “No kidding? That’s why I came out here too,” Hwa says and to your utter shock – and relief…and horror… - he sits down next to you. “Sometimes I need a breather from the crowds.”

                You are sitting very still as if one wrong move will make this entire situation vanish into thin air. You are glad that your hoodie is pulled up, offering you a little protection from Hwa seeing your face which probably looks shell shocked.

                Time to stand up, tell him have a nice night and get the hell out of here, you think before that primal beast goes, no fucking way. You run into the guy you’ve been masturbating to for a year, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, the only guy that makes you feel the way you do and now you want to head home?

                But it’s wrong to talk to him casually without him knowing that I know him!

                “Still can’t believe I forgot my lighter…I guess I’ll have to bum one off someone inside. Wow, it’s cold out here. Are you cold?”

                “A little,” You admit, still staring straight ahead, unable to look him in the face for fear of blurting out the secret or melting into a puddle of desire.

                From this angle, you can see Hwa drumming his fingers against his exposed knee. Those same fingers you’ve seen wrapped around his cock. I think I might spontaneously combust right here on the spot while wondering why the universe would land you in such a situation. The odds, even living in the same city, were so impossible that you never even daydreamed about running into Hwa. It seemed ridiculous that you would now be sitting next to him outside a bar, a cruel joke from someone who just wanted to create chaos.

                “My friend San got me into this bar cuz it’s invite only but then he took off twenty minutes ago because something came up,” Hwa continues speaking in that same voice you’ve heard a thousand times through your phone, “Hey, are you heading home after this?”

                “What?” You say, finally startled enough to turn your head to look directly at him.

                “If you’re not, why don’t you come with me inside?” Hwa flashes a smile, so familiar that it knocks the air out of your lungs, “Like I said, the place is invite only and is sorta exclusive so if you wanna grab a drink together. My name is Hwa.”

                You squint your eyes, feeling torn between jumping for joy and running down the road. “You don’t even know me.” is what you end up saying instead, immediately disliking how hostile the words come out.

                Hwa looks unperturbed, replying, “Sure but we already have something in common by coming out here for some fresh air. On top of that, you’ve just been watching the rain fall against the road which is something I do all the time when I’m trying to come up with a song. So, maybe we are a bit similar.”

                A natural question after this would be oh you write songs? But to utter such a thing would be lying to Hwa immediately since you already know he writes synthwave music. Hwa asking you to go inside could mean nothing. On his streams, he always has struck you as someone down for adventure, someone who loves people, and here you are, sitting alone outside a bar – why wouldn’t he ask to hang out? But Hwa also loves sex and attention, and you’re a woman sitting outside a bar, why wouldn’t he want to try to hit on you?

                But I know you even though you don’t know me. I masturbate to you almost regularly. You’re like the guy of my sexual dreams. But none of those words leave your mouth even as the guilt swirls.

                Hwa stands up then, extending his hand towards you. A stray lock of hair falls out of place, framing his angled face, with his eyes as dark as the bottom of the ocean. Looking directly at Hwa, you know you’re swimming with the sharks.

                “Would you like to have a drink with me?” He offers.

                You swallow hard and go, “Sure.”

Remembering that he told you his name earlier, you tell him yours while reaching upwards. Your hand meets his as he helps you up off the concrete. Your heart is beating so quickly that you’re breathless. His fingers are around yours for a few seconds and you are entranced at the sight of his painted nails as small blurs against your skin. When Hwa lets go of your hand, he motions to the door, beckoning you to follow.

                And you do, as if any other choice actually existed. If the universe had opted to toss you in Hwa’s direction, then you would take it.

                Hwa pushes open the door to the bar, the electronic music promptly smacking you in the face with the force of a punch. The entrance is covered in a low red light and shadows dance on the walls. There is a bouncer by the second door, and a woman is looking crestfallen as he shakes his head, pointing her towards the exit.

                Hwa stops in front of the bouncer, who nods before pointing at you with a puzzled expression on his face. Hwa yells something while gesturing to you and the bouncer nods again, moving to the side to let you both in. Hwa reaches for your hand once more, and the guilt becomes too much as you enter the bar with him.

                “Hey!” You shout over the din but he doesn’t hear you.

                The music is obnoxiously loud – no wonder Hwa popped out for a break – and people are crowded at the bar, bodies pressed together and the air heavy with smoke. The music makes the floor vibrate underneath your feet but no one is dancing. In fact, you can’t even spot a dance floor, just two people wildly making out smushed in a corner that looked like it maybe, in an earlier iteration, had a dance floor.

                Everything is black and red to an almost dizzying effect. Hwa stops at the bar, wedging himself into a small cluster of people. His hand is still holding onto yours, your eyes falling on it. It’s wrong that he doesn’t know, the voice in your head that is as loud as the music thrumming along your skin goes, you need to tell him before it gets more complicated.

                Hwa has now successfully gotten a lighter from someone unceremoniously shoving it into his pocket. He turns around and shoots you a grin with those dazzling white teeth of his, setting off to lead you further into the bar.

                “Hey!” You yell again and this time sharply tug on his hand.

                Hwa stops, turning his body slightly to the side to look over his shoulder at you. His brows come together in question and he asks you what although it is swallowed up by the music.

                “I have to tell you something!” You’re now wishing the confession had occurred outside the bar as the electronic music swirls around you.

                Hwa is bumped by someone, he shoots them a glare and then turns around to face you, moving so close that the warmth of his body seeps into yours. Doused in the wild lights of the bar, you don’t think it is possible for him to look sexier than he currently does. When he asks you what once again, you can see the quick flash of his tongue piercing and your knees actually feel weak.

                No choice left but forward, you motion for Hwa to get closer. He does so, his body angling so that his ear is next to your lips. Being this close to him is making your head dizzy. You can make out the muscles in his arms through the fishnet, can see the small tattoo behind his ear of a symbol you don’t recognize of two small pieces coming together, and watch as his green pendant swings in front of his chest.

                You shut your eyes for a second as if about to jump off a cliff and shout over the heavy music, “I know who you are! I watch your streams!”

                Hwa pulls away immediately, eyes widening. In the dancing blaze of red lights, it is a little difficult to make out his expression and it isn’t as if the bar lends itself to any sort of intimate conversation. But you couldn’t deal with the guilt over hanging out with Hwa and hiding the fact you know what he does in his spare time. It just felt wrong.

                To your surprise, he tilts his head back and laughs. You stare at the tongue piercing, unsure what to do or even say, given his reaction. He jerks his head to the side, an indicator to continue following him. He is still holding your hand as he wedges himself through the crowd. He said this place was invite only but it’s like the entire damn city is here.

                Hwa leads you up a metal staircase near the back of the bar, taking you up to the second floor. There is another bouncer here but he merely waves at Hwa, pushing the curtain to the side to allow access. You follow, walking past VIP booths. Someone has ordered bottle service and it is an explosion of glowing bottles, sparklers, and tiny lights flashing as a group of women pop the bottle at one of the tables.

                The music isn’t as loud here – still overwhelming but enough that conversation could go easier. Hwa stops at one of the smaller booths, releasing your hand and sitting down. Feeling nervous now, you sit on the opposite side. You’re totally out of your element and it isn’t just because you’re with Hwa. This type of bar is new to you, and you’re self-conscious about your quick outfit of the hoodie and skirt meant for a totally different setting.

                Hwa scoots all the way into the middle of the booth and motions for you to move closer. You know it is just because of the volume of the music but to be this close to him is making your heart race. Combined with the confession of watching his streams, you aren’t sure if it is racing because of desire or anxiety. Maybe both.

                His body is angled towards you, one arm across the back of the booth near your back. You aren’t sure where to look. You want to just stare at him, take in the sight of his face and his body and the fact he is this close to you but your shyness at the confession mixed with the surreal nature of the situation means you just end up staring at the table.

                A server comes off, asking in a loud voice to be heard over the music if the two of you want anything.

                “Just a water,” You yell, feeling a little ridiculous at communicating only via shouting.

                “Same,” Hwa goes, taking your lead and the server nods, leaving you alone with him.

                His eyes are on you again and your hands grip the edge of your hoodie as if it is a life raft. Your body is screaming for him a way that you’ve never experienced before while your brain is in a pure panic at having confessed you know who he is.

                Hwa leans towards you, his lips near your ear. You hold your breath, the different emotions bouncing in your chest as he speaks.

                “You really watch my streams?”

                When you turn your head to look at him, you’re so close that it would take a second to press your lips against his. He doesn’t seem phased by it, merely waiting for you to answer. Can he tell how much you want him? Is it obvious that he impacts you? You aren’t sure; his eyes don’t reveal anything.

                “Yes,” You reply, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make things awkward but it felt wrong hanging out with you and hiding it.”

                “No, I appreciate the honesty,” Hwa says and for a brief second his eyes drop to where your hoodie meets your skirt, “I’ve never run into anyone irl before that’s seen my streams.”

                “Really?”

                He nods, brushing his hair away from his face. His rings are so familiar – everything about him is so familiar. You swallow. Hwa notices, trying to hide a smirk. Your heart is skipping rope in your chest.

                “Yeah. I honestly never considered running into someone. Or…I didn’t think they’d actually admit they knew who I was,” He studies you for a moment, “Do you talk in the chat?”

                “Oh, uhm…occasionally. Sometimes.” Mortification is beginning to sit in as the conversation goes further. Does he think you’re some desperate loser for watching his streams?

                The server returns with the two glasses of water, unceremoniously left on the table because they have actual real drink orders to take. Nervously, you grab the water, fiddling with the paper straw, hoping that keeping your hands busy will stop you from reaching out to Hwa and doing something desperate.

                “Oh yeah? What’s your username?”

                “My username?” You’re stalling.

                “Yeah, maybe I’ll know it.”

                His words uttered during the stream last night come back to you. BubblegumHeart wants to suck my cock. It’s funny how chatty you get whenever I’m half naked. Exceptionally quiet the entire stream minus a comment here or there and then dying for me to fuck their face. You busy yourself taking a large gulp of water through the straw, wanting to sink into the floor of the club and disappear from Hwa’s view.

                He is watching you patiently, apparently in no hurry to get information. There is something languid about his movements, like a cat lazily watching its prey and knowing no matter what happens, it’ll catch it. Does he see you like that? Did you want him to? Again, the old thoughts return about how experienced he must be compared to yourself and the paltry limited sexual encounters you’ve had your entire life.

                When you can’t put it off any longer, you mumble, “It’s BubblegumHeart.”

                You spoke it so softly that you aren’t even sure it is audible. But Hwa reacts immediately, a grin breaking out across his face, looking as if he just hit the jackpot.

                “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” He says gleefully, “You’re a fucking chat regular.”

                What are the odds of lightning breaking the roof and striking me down right now? If I can run into Hwa, surely I can be electrocuted, right?

                “That’s amazing,” Hwa continues, sounding positively chipper, “You’re in almost every stream. I always notice you because as soon as I’m done jerking off, you immediately leave like clockwork.” He snaps his fingers. “I could never tell if you were embarrassed at watching me or just did what you needed to do and left.”

                Or maybe a stampede of wild animals from the zoo will break out, storm this bar and trample me. That might be better. Are the odds of that higher or lower? Whichever one will make my deep embarrassment stop first.

                He props his chin on his hand, studying you and your phony fascination with the glass of water. You’re too embarrassed to even talk.

                “So?” He prompts.

                Swallowing, you go, “What?”

                “Which one is it? Do you get that post nut shame and close out of my stream or do you just see those things as down to business, business taken care of, time to close out?”

                You idly resume swirling the straw in the cup, biting down hard on your bottom lip for a second before forcing yourself to look at Hwa directly. His fingers rest again his cheek, his dark eyes alight with interest, and his body wickedly warm next to yours.

                “It’s embarrassment,” You finally reply, “But none of it has to do with you. I just get embarrassed about…paying for attention. And getting off to someone I don’t know.”

                “Lots of people get off to people they don’t know. That’s basically the entirety of porn,” Hwa points out.

                “You know what I mean,” You mumble.

                He shifts a little closer. Your knees are touching now, the contact of skin against skin like pure electricity being dumped over your body. “Is it because you like getting off to me, specifically?” His voice has dropped an octave, low in your ear, settling across your brain to create a pleasant hum. Mixed with the throbbing sound of the music, it is almost making you delirious.

                There is a lump in your throat as you go, “Yes.”

                “Is it because you want to suck my cock?” He asks, quoting your comment from last night.

                The words are like a sledgehammer to your chest, knocking you entirely off balance. Your grip tightens around the glass and you’re sure that Hwa notices but you can’t help yourself. You’re getting to that dangerous tipping point where your brain is about to log out for the night. You only ever get this sensation when you’re watching his streams. How could you resist it when he’s right in front of you in the flesh?

                “Yes,” You exhale, “Can I ask you something now?”

                He nods. Very lightly, you feel his fingertips grazing the back of your neck where his arm is stretched across the back of the booth. The touch is intense; you never want him to stop. It is so faint that you can barely feel it but as he brushes his fingers there, you realize just how wet you already are – from basically nothing but talking to him.

                “Before I told you…about the streams. When we were outside. Why did you ask me to come in here with you?”

                “Cute girl, sitting alone in just a hoodie and a skirt, watching the rain fall across the city. Me, alone tonight because my friend had to leave. Figured I’d see where it would lead.”

                “Where do you want it to lead?” It is as forward as you can get without getting tongue tied.

                Hwa’s eyes drop once more to your skirt laying across your thighs before flicking back up to your face. You’re trying not to squirm under his gaze.

                “I think you know where I want it to lead,” He goes and to your shock and delight, he brings his other hand to lightly rest on your knee.

                Things like this do not happen to me, you think, knowing this entire situation is just too good to be true and therefore, your brain is going to attempt to sabotage it.

                “I don’t – uhm. I don’t have a lot of experience in this area. Very little, actually. And it will probably not be fun…for you.”

                “I’m a good teacher,” is all he says without missing a beat, “If you want one.”

                How does Hwa do that? Just flip every single conversation into something that makes your knees weak and your pussy so wet that all logic goes out the window? You have a feeling he could suggest jumping off a bridge with him and you’d likely agree.

                You make a strangled noise as your brain buffers with a reply and your body just wants to jump in his lap. As you take in the sight of Hwa next to you, his hand on your knee, your mind flickers back to the snake tattoo that curls around his body. The mental image of running your fingers across it is in vivid colour.

                “I do want one,” You manage to say without stumbling over your words.

                Hwa flashes you a grin and leans forward. You realize with a jolt he’s going to kiss you. You place two fingers against his chest to stop him, your breathing unsteady and hands shaking slightly. He stops immediately.

                “It doesn’t bother you that I’ve seen your streams?” You ask, so close to him now that you can study his jawline, the pinkish hue of his lips and the way he is looking at you as if he can’t wait to taste you.

                “No. Why would it bother me?” Even though the music is loud, you can still somehow hear him as though your brain filters out everything but him. “Just means I don’t have to waste any time explaining who I am and what I like to do.”

                Another mental image of his hand stroking his cock. You swallow hard, your fingers lowering back to your lap. There is no other excuse to wield, no other manner in which you can deny yourself the very thing you’ve wanted the most.

                “I guess that’s true,” You murmur as Hwa’s hand slowly moves up your leg, resting just at the bottom of your skirt where your thigh begins.

                Your brain finally gives up, throwing its hands in the air and retreating as Hwa presses his lips against yours. The sensation is like two planets colliding, your entire body is wrapped up in the feeling of Hwa kissing you. His hand presses down against your thigh, the coldness of his rings making goosebumps break out against your skin. His other hand brushes along the back of your neck as the kiss grows deeper.

                You’ve never done something like this, kissing someone you basically don’t know. Sure, you’ve watched Hwa on streams but that isn’t the same thing as knowing someone, is it? It isn’t as if he knew about you beforehand. But you’ve never desired anyone like you’ve lusted after Hwa through a screen and the idea of missing out on him when the universe sent him your way just doesn’t make any sense.

                You fend off a moan when Hwa’s tongue slips into your mouth and you can feel his piercing. How many times did you daydream about this? Too many to count.

                When he pulls away, his skin is slightly tinged with colour and the expression of lust is in his eyes. Knowing it is directed at you only furthers your desire.

                “Do you want to come back with me to my place?” He asks, a sentence that is so dreamlike you hope that you never forget it.

                That’s when the server interrupts the two of you, asking if everything is going okay. You can tell by the bored tone in their voice that two people making out in a booth is just a regular night.

                Both of you say that you’re fine. The server leaves and you try to steady your breathing.

                “Do you mind if I smoke?” Hwa asks.

                “I do, actually, I don’t love the smell when it’s right next to me,” You reply, knowing it would be easier just to say yes and go along with whatever Hwa wants due to your feelings for him but unable to do that to yourself.

                To your surprise, he grins again, that same quick as a dagger smile that threatens you to break every promise you’ve ever had with yourself.

                “That’s alright, I can have one on the walk home. Are you coming with me? We got interrupted before you could answer before.”

                As if saying no was ever an option.

                “Yeah, I’ll come with you,” You hesitate, “Are you sure you’re alright with my lack of experience?”

                “You’re hung up on it way more than me,” Hwa replies, “Like I said, it doesn’t bother me. You just tell me whatever you want to do tonight. You can decide.”

                This takes you by surprise. “I’m not very good at leading.”

                “You don’t have to lead. You just tell me what you want to try and we’ll try it. I’ll show you. If we start something and you don’t like it, you tell me and we switch to something else.” His tone is casual, without any shyness, proving how comfortable he is with his own body and sex, a far cry from yourself.

                But this is the same attitude you always have found so sexy on his streams. Having it directed at you is a bit mind melting. Combined with the proposition of doing whatever you have fantasized about with Hwa and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve just won the sexual lottery.

                “Oh, okay,” You reply simply, too tongued tied and overwhelmed to say anything else.

                “Do you want to stay here longer or are you ready to go?”

                “No, we can go. Thanks for showing me this place but I don’t think I’ll ever come back here.”

                Hwa laughs at this as he slides out of the booth. He says something but it’s swallowed up by the music. He extends his hand again towards yours to help you out and then motions to the back of the VIP area.

                “There’s a back exit so you don’t have to cut through downstairs again. I’ll show you.”

                Following after Hwa, your eyes skim along the length of his back to his small waist. The nerves are buzzing now, the idea that you’re actually going to mess around and most likely fuck him starting to settle in with amazing clarity. You can taste him in your mouth from the earlier kiss and you seem to be emotionally leaping from open desire to pure anxiety.

                Hwa pushes the back door open and you trail after him onto a small metal balcony with a staircase leading to the alley. The rain has stopped and everything shines in the city lights, the puddles a multi coloured collection of neon signs and street lamps.

                Once you’re in the alleyway with Hwa, he pulls out a small box of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans as well as the lighter he collected earlier. The flame flickers brightly in the darkness as he lights the tip of his cigarette and takes a drag off it, tilting his face away from you while blowing the smoke out from in between those plump lips of his.

                “Here, stand on this side of me so the wind blows it away from you,” He says as the two of you leave the alley.

                “You seem to have practice with this. I guess because of your roommate?” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth because it brings up the fact you watch his streams and know more about him than he knows about you.

                “Yeah, Hongjoong doesn’t like it at all which I get. That’s one of the reasons I started streaming. The nighttime walks to smoke could be kinda boring.”

                “What are the other reasons?” You ask curiously.

                He glances at you out of the corner of his eye before going, “I like attention.”

                Which you had gathered. In some ways, you envy Hwa and his love of attention because you spend so much of your time hiding from it.

                “You never get self conscious on the streams?”

                You move around a large puddle on the sidewalk, almost losing your footing. Hwa’s hand goes to your back, an anchor that helps you steady yourself. The cigarette is in between his lips and he’s covered in a blue neon light from another bar.

                “No,” He says, the two of you frozen in place on the sidewalk as a car drives by, blasting muffled music, “Why would I? I know every single person watching my stream wants to fuck me. It’s a confidence booster more than anything.”

                You suppose that he also means you. Feeling your cheeks get hot, you straighten up and continue walking. Hwa brings his slender fingers to the cigarette, exhaling again and waving away any errant smoke that might drift in your direction. You wonder what it’s like to be so comfortable in your own skin like Hwa is.

                “Do you live far from here?”

                “No, about a ten minute walk. What about you?” He asks.

                “Yeah, I took an Uber here. Twenty minutes or so not accounting for traffic.”

                “Far enough away that we wouldn’t run into one another. Which leads me to another question.”

                “What?” You ask nervously.

                “Did you know we lived in the same city? I do what I can to try to make my location vague but if you live in the city and you watch my streams, you must have seen something that made you realize it.”        

                You’ve been honest the entire night so why lie now? “I did know, yeah. But I wasn’t about to…track you down while you were streaming or something. That felt completely out of bounds and creepy. The city is teeming with people. I told myself there is just no way I’d ever run into you. Did you ever think about what it would be like to run into someone who watched your streams?”

                “I assumed no one would actually admit to it even if I did run into someone. Admitting it means possibly admitting to sticking around when I switch to members only and watching me jerk off on camera as well as going on a website that is just full of cam shows. But I guess I was wrong because you told me.”

                “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

                “I wouldn’t be taking you back to my place if anything you did made me uncomfortable,” He replies, stopping at the crosswalk and looking at you. “Do you feel uncomfortable? You’re the one watching me jerk off on camera.”

                Flustered, you make another garbled noise before settling on, “I’m not uncomfortable. I’m just nervous.”

                “Due to your inexperience.”

                “That’s right.”

                “You always spend this much time in your own head?”

                “Basically. I spend a lot of time alone.”

                “Why’s that?”

                “Dunno, I just prefer it. People can be draining.”

                “You ever get lonely?”

                “Sometimes. I mean, that’s how I ended up on your stream. And why I kept going back,” You admit.

                “That and the fact you think I’m hot.”

                You’re starting to think Hwa enjoys flustering you. “Yes, that too.”

                The crosswalk light turns green and Hwa turns his attention back to the walk. For a few minutes, you’re both silent. However, it isn’t an awkward silence. Sure, you’re nervous about being around someone you want so badly. But there is a familiarity and ease to Hwa that makes things comfortable.

                “Can I ask you something else?”

                Hwa replies, “You don’t have to preface everything with that. You can ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

                “Why?” You go warily, “Why are you so open with me?”

                “I told you. I’ve never had anyone know about my cam shows. It’s a big facet of my life because I like doing them and it’s a secondary income. I’m not embarrassed but it’s a personal thing to tell someone what I do on those streams. No one else knows how far I go. Hongjoong is aware I casually go live but not the stripping, the jerking off, the dirty talk. A part of you ends up hidden even if you don’t mean to. But you know that part of me – you know that part of me first over anything else. Feels freeing.”

                You’re surprised by his answer but reassured that telling Hwa you watch his cam shows had been the right choice. You’re off the main road now, walking down a side street together that leads to a block of apartment buildings. You can hear another round of storms kicking up in the distance.

                “Well, my question isn’t that exciting. I was just wondering what you did outside of streaming for money.”

                “Like my job?”

                “Yeah.”

                “I’m actually the heir to a chain of grocery stores so I get money from my parents.”

                Confused, your steps slow as you look at him. But Hwa laughs loudly, shaking his head at your expression.

                “I’m joking, I’m joking. Can you imagine something like that? Sounds preposterous,” He drops the cigarette underneath his shoe, crushing it into a puddle. “Honestly, I got a collection of random stuff I do. Delivery driver, sometimes I use my car to do Uber drives, part time jobs here and there, just whatever catches my interest and gives me enough money to pay what I need to. The streaming is just one of the sources of income.”

                He stops in front of a nondescript apartment complex that is three floors. Underneath the streetlight, he leans against the crumbling wall in front of the building, an indication that this area was once fancier before it fell into a state of disrepair.

                “What were you saying to me before we left the club?” You ask, remembering how you couldn’t hear him over the noise.

                “Oh? Just that you were unbelievable. I like how honest you are. You didn’t try to drink through a misguided notion to try to impress me. You tell me that you don’t want me smoking next to you. You tell me the club sucks.”

                “I don’t think I used that exact phrasing,” You reply.

                He is grinning again. “Well, the intention is still the same. I like that you weren’t trying to hide anything about who you are just because you like watching my streams.”

                “It didn’t cross my mind,” You admit a bit sheepishly.

                His smile fades, his look becoming serious while studying you, making your heart race. “C’mere,” Hwa says, motioning for you to get closer.

                You do, and the thunder crackles in the distance, a little louder this time. Hwa places one hand on your waist, and the other on your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin. Your body reacts to him immediately. The pure desperation is reaching a boiling point. All your earlier fantasies of Hwa treating you like you’re his little whore float to the surface.

                This time, when he kisses you in the silence of the street, you melt into him. His hand moves from your waist to lower back to better angle you against his body. You reach upwards, fingers slipping through the fishnet top, pressing against the hard muscles underneath the thin fabric of his black tank top.

                When the kiss breaks, it is as if you are coming up for air after diving very deep into the ocean. Hwa’s black hair is glowing from the streetlight, his eyes heavy with desire.

                “Uhm, is your…is your roommate home?” You ask. Are we gonna have to be quiet? is what your question actually means.

                “Nah, Hongjoong works overnights. He won’t be back until seven,” He lowers his face, mimicking his posture from earlier in the club when the music was too loud, “That means you don’t have to worry about being quiet when I make you cum.”

                Oh, I don’t think I’m gonna survive this, you think as his words make your breath catch and brain buzz. He is holding your hand again, cutting across the parking lot towards one of the apartments on the bottom floor. Unlocking the door, you step inside after him, thinking about how many streams you’ve seen where he covered the camera.

                The apartment is small, well lived in but clean. The kitchen is even smaller; it could probably only hold one person in it to cook at a time. A bedroom door on the right is swung open and you know immediately it isn’t Hwa’s.

                “Do you want anything to drink?” He offers over his shoulder while walking to the bedroom on the left, near the kitchen.

                “I’m okay,” You reply, walking into his room for the first time.

                It’s exactly how it looks in the streams but from this angle, you see things that are not typically shown on camera. There is a small corkboard behind the stand for his phone that is filled with polaroid pictures of Hwa with his friends. There are actually too many photos to fit the board and they overflow, pinned to the border. You know it is positioned behind the camera for privacy reasons and you’re aware that you’re now seeing things meant for people only in Hwa’s life, not through a screen.

                Hwa turns on the projector light of stars, a familiar motion made entirely brand new from the fact you’re currently standing in his room. The lava lamp had been left on and the inky blobs move slowly. He turns to face you and the worlds of offline and online seem to collide. You suddenly find it difficult to speak, your shyness getting the best of you now that the objection of your desire has you alone in his bedroom.

                You motion to his computer. “How come you never upload your music online?”

                “I do. I just don’t link to it on streams.”

                “Why not?” You are curious, wondering why he wouldn’t use his following to promote his music.

                “Because everyone on stream wants to fuck me and that’ll cloud their judgement over the music. They’ll just tell me it’s great just because they know I made it.”

                “That’s not true,” You say but Hwa raises one eyebrow at your unconvincing tone.

                He moves closer to you, his hands going to your waist as he pulls you towards him. “Is that right?”

                “Sure. Play some right now and I’ll tell you it’s shit.”

                Hwa laughs, his perfectly white teeth and tongue piercing glinting in the dark lights of the bedroom. The longer this conversation goes on, the less you feel confident in being able to continue it due to how you are mentally screaming for him to touch you more. A couple of kisses aren’t enough. You want all of him, you want him to do everything to you.

                He kisses you then. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue is in your mouth, his hands staying on your waist. As the kisses deepen, grow more urgent, the nerves still flutter in your stomach, making you a bit distracted.

                It must show because when Hwa pulls away, he is studying your face through long lashes. “What are you thinking about?”

                “About ten thousand things at once.”

                “You overthink a lot, don’t you?”

                “Almost always, yeah.”

                “Have you ever been with someone and they just…made your brain shut off? Just stopped thinking completely because of how they were fucking you?”

                “I…ah…uhm…”

                “That’s a ‘no’,” Hwa retorts, and his hand is against your cheek, thumb brushing across your lips. He has an unreadable expression on his face but it’s making your heart thud heavily in your chest. “I can give you that. Would you like that?”

                Not that you doubt Hwa’s sexual prowess or his impact on your body but you do find the possibility of your brain being quiet for once highly improbable. But since your experience with sex is limited, maybe he could really do such a thing.

                “Sounds impossible but yes, I’d like that.” His thumb across your lips is distracting, making your earlier fantasies about sucking his dick return.

                “Tell me what you want to start with,” His voice is soft and in the silence of the room, it seems to slink down your back and make you shiver.

                “Will you just…uhm…kiss me again?” You’re too shy to ask him for anything more, the words stuck in your mouth.

                He brings his face to yours, kissing you slowly this time. You can feel this from the top of your scalp to the tip of your toes, sending your body alight with fresh desire. His hands move away from your waist to your lower back, not making any motion to remove your hoodie. As the kissing continues, each one growing deeper, Hwa takes a couple of steps back towards his bed. When he sits down, he pulls you into his lap, not stopping with the kisses the entire time.

                Your arms are back around his neck, sitting in his lap slightly turned so that your legs rest on his bed, too shy to suddenly straddle him. Hwa doesn’t seem to mind judging by the way one hand trails up along your legs to your thighs with his other hand against your back to hold you in place.

                He nips at your bottom lip with his teeth which makes your body shiver. His fingers dip just underneath the bottom of your skirt to touch your inner thigh. It’s a minor touch but feels like an earthquake inside your body. You’re almost embarrassed by how wet you are from almost nothing.

                You can tell Hwa is hard by the bulge pressing against your body so at least it isn’t just you being turned on. Nervously, you break the kiss, feeling too hot in the oversized hoodie. You tug it off over your head in an attempt to cool down, wearing just a regular t-shirt underneath. Hwa tosses the hoodie onto his computer chair before pulling you in for another kiss.

                His tongue in your mouth feels too good to be true and, unable to help yourself, you reach for his hand, bringing it upwards to one of your tits so he knows it is okay to touch you there. Hwa doesn’t miss a beat, immediately groping you through your shirt.

                Your own fingers are once again clinging to the fishnet shirt he has on. You hope he doesn’t notice your hands are shaking again.

                Hwa moves his head to your neck, biting down on the soft skin there with his teeth. A tiny groan escapes you which only makes him do it again.

                “Leave a mark,” You quietly beg, the words leaving your mouth before you even had time to question them, your head tilting back to give him more access.

                He sucks hard on your neck before biting down harder this time. The idea of having to cover up marks made by him come the next work day fills you with an excitement entirely new. Your hand is in his hair, silently urging him on as he moves to another spot of your neck to do the same.

                While doing this, Hwa brings his hand underneath your shirt to fondle your tits in your bra. It’s not enough and you make a noise of annoyance, tugging your bra down hastily so it’s around your waist. Normally, you’d be worried that you’re moving things too fast or should be taking things slower. But not with Hwa, not when you want to be consumed by him completely.

                He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump as he bites down on your neck. The sensations are intense; you didn’t think it was possible to be this wet. As he continues to fondle your bare tits, you remove your shirt, tossing it to the floor. Half dressed in Hwa’s lap while he is still fully closed, he brings his head down, sucking hard on your nipple with a soft pop when he pulls away. He moves his head to do the same to the other one, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking on it even harder.

                This time you groan and when Hwa moves his head away, there is a strand of spit from his bottom lip to your nipple.

                “You like that? Being pawed at like this?” He asks in a serious voice.

                You nod, your affirmative answer sounding a little bit higher pitch than normal.

                “Good girl,” He goes and the compliment makes your head spin, hitting a sweet spot in your brain that you didn’t even know you had, “You want me to keep doing this?”

                “N-no, I…” Here it is, your first actual request, as embarrassing as it feels to say it aloud, “I want to suck your cock,” When he nods, you reach out for his wrist, curling your fingers around it and shaking your head to indicate there’s more, “I…”

                “You don’t have to be shy with me,” Hwa murmurs, “We already know more about one another before we even met.”

                The words settle your nerves a little although you end up bringing your face close to his neck so he can’t look at you while whispering the fantasy in his ear. “I want you to put your cock deep in my throat. And I want…I want you to call me a whore and a slut during it.” Your face feels like it is on fire.

                Hwa shifts so that your face is moved away from him so he can look at you. You’re wiggling a little in his lap from the attention and the admission of what you want from him.

                “You want to be a good little whore for me and have my cock buried down your throat?” He asks and fuck if it doesn’t make you feel as if you’re turning into a feral thing in his lap hearing those words directed at you. “You like being called a whore?”

                “I – I’ve never been talked to like that from anyone else but I always think – I think about it with you.”

                Something lights up in Hwa’s eyes for a few seconds. “Oh, so you want to be my good little whore?” After you nod again, he goes, “I think I can give you that.”

                He carefully moves so that you’re off his lap while he throws a pillow onto the floor for your knees. It’s cold against your skin when you sink down onto it, still wearing your skirt. You’re both nervous and exhilarated. How many times have you thought about this?

                Hwa unzips his pants, removing them but leaves his boxers on, standing in front of you. Your heart is beating so fast that surely, it must be dangerous. Maybe fantasies coming true actually aren’t that good for you. You tilt your face back to look up at Hwa, still wearing his shirt and fishnet cover.

                “Pull down my boxers,” He says in the same stern yet soft tone.

                When you go to reach for them though, his eyes narrow for a second and he reaches for your hand, turning it so that the palm is facing upwards.

                “You’re trembling,” Hwa says and there is a small note of surprise in his voice, “Are you that nervous?”

                “It’s not just nerves,” You reply shyly, “It’s…I just…I’ve thought about this a lot. You…I’ve thought about you a lot.”

                Something shifts behind his eyes as he lets go of your hand, allowing you to continue. Tentatively, your fingers find the top of his boxers and you tug them down in a swift motion, exposing his hard cock.

                It isn’t as though this is the first time you’ve seen Hwa hard like this. But the fact you’re seeing him in person, and it’s all for you, makes you unable to hold back even a second longer. Leaning forward, you take the head of his hard cock into your mouth, rolling your tongue across the tip to taste his precum. Hwa inhales sharply at the touch. You realize he is giving you time to get used to him in your mouth so you drag your tongue along the underside of his shaft, one hand going to fondle his balls.

                Your blowjob experience is as limited as everything else you’ve done but Hwa’s breathing changes as you continue. At one point, you’re bobbing your head on his cock, cheeks hollow as you work on sucking him. When you pull him out of your mouth after that, however, you can feel his fingers gently rest on the back of your head so you go still.

                Hwa guides his cock back into your mouth, pushing further back until you gag and he pulls out. He doesn’t say anything but waits patiently for you to motion to continue. After you do so, his length fills your mouth and you press your tongue against his shaft, marveling at how much you enjoy it, how much you have wanted this.

                It must show on your face somehow because Hwa, in a taunt voice, goes quietly, “You like having your mouth stuffed full of my cock?”

                You make an affirmative noise, impossible to reply since your mouth is full. He rocks his hips a little, moving his cock deeper into your throat until it becomes too much for you, resulting in you pulling away with a tiny gasp. Precum and spit connect your lips to the tip of his cock, your eyes watering slightly as you look upwards at him.

                Hwa has one hand holding the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up a little to get a better angle at watching you deepthroat his cock. His gaze is lustful, his desire obvious as he studies your face.

                “Y-yes,” You mumble shyly, your underwear sticky against your pussy from how turned on you are.

                “Show me what you’ve thought about when you watch my streams,” His voice is soft, curling against a spot in your brain where all your fantasies about him are locked away, “Show me what you’ve thought about when you touch yourself to me and think about being my whore.”

                His cock is back in your mouth, your lips wrapped around his warmth as you take him deeper. When you gag this time, you don’t pull away and instead stop completely, trying to relax your throat around him. Hwa curses under his breath which only spurns you on more. With his cock in your mouth, your earlier anxieties about the entire situation are starting to fade, replaced by the reality of the situation – that you are here on your knees for Hwa, after all those times of watching him jerk off on streams.

                When he slips out of your mouth this time, the spit and precum drip off your chin onto your chest, running down your tits. You try to catch your breath for a couple of seconds before taking him back in your mouth, bobbing your head on his cock, taking his length deep each time.

                Hwa grunts, keeping his hips still even though you know he must want to drive his cock down your throat as fast and hard as possible. You get the sense he is holding back as to not overwhelm you, aware of your inexperience.

                You continue, not caring that you are making a big mess or that his cock is slick with your salvia and his precum. Hwa is breathing hard now which only makes you want to keep going. You’re determined to have him finish in your mouth after nights of thinking about what it would feel like to have him shoot his cum down your throat. After another moment where you gag after getting a little too excited, Hwa lets out a ragged gasp.

                Your eyes flick upwards then to see his grip on his shirt is tight, his chest rising and falling quickly. He seems to sense your gaze and looks down at you then, with your cheeks puffed out from his cock and a dollop of spit hanging off your chin.

                “Fuck, you’re gonna make me finish if you keep doing this,” He tells you, “I didn’t think you’d be such a cockwhore, gagging on me like that.”

                You slip his cock out of your mouth just enough to be able to talk, “I want you to cum in my mouth.”

                “Is that part of your fantasy?”

                “Yes.”

                “Alright, my little cockwhore, I’ll give you what you want,” Hwa goes, moving his hips a little to press the tip of his cock against your lips.

                You greedily accept him again, not caring that your tits are covered in a mess and it has probably covered your skirt too. As you slurp and suck on his cock, you drop one hand downwards underneath your skirt to press your clit through the fabric of your underwear. Hwa notices and pushes his cock down further – you can’t help yourself, you moan around him as your fingers brush your clit.

                “God, you are an absolute whore,” His voice sounds uneven and you know from watching his streams that he is close.

                You make a noise around his cock, a noise of approval, of contentment, and Hwa grunts as his cock buries itself in your throat and he begins to climax. As usual, he cums a lot, so much that it fills your mouth and makes you cough, your reflexes kicking in to pull away from him. But Hwa is still cumming, a hot strand against your chin, another one across your lips as he makes the most delicious sounds you have ever heard. Your fingers press down hard against your clit as his load fills your mouth, covers your face, gives you exactly what you have always gotten off to in the middle of the night.

                Hwa looks dazed, trying to come to his senses after the intensity of his orgasm as he tugs his boxers up. When he speaks, it is with great effort.

                “I’ll get you something to clean you up –”

                “No,” You say quickly, your voice sounding gummy from his load which you are still swallowing, “No – keep it on me.”

                The confession only seems to spark something in Hwa, who is staring at you with another expression on his face that you can’t read. He jerks his head to the direction of the bed and goes, “Get up there, if I don’t eat your cunt, I’m gonna start climbing the walls.”

                He reaches for you, helping you to your feet as your legs protest from the angle they had been in. While you get on his bed, Hwa is pulling the fishnet cover off followed by his shirt, leaving you with seeing his snake tattoo curling around his body for the first time in person. Your eyes trace the way it wraps around his torso, the manner in which the purple light of his room lays across his body. He kicks off his jeans, leaving just his boxers on. Then he is removing his rings, dropping them onto the night table. You take in the sight of every movement, so familiar but new at the same time.

                Hwa is crawling onto the bed now, tugging on your skirt. “You made a mess.”

                He isn’t wrong. Even in the low lights, you can see the skirt is covered in spit and his cum. For a split second, you are worried about how you’re going to get home and past your roommate with a skirt like this and it must show on your face because Hwa clicks his tongue piercing against the top of his mouth and reaches out for you, turning your face gently to meet his gaze.

                “No, you’re not overthinking again. I could tell there wasn’t a thought in your head except my cock just now and I’m going to take it one step further,” He is pulling your skirt off, landing in the pile of clothes on the floor, “I’m going to make my whore feel so good that there won’t be anything in your mind but pleasure. Look at how fucking soaked your underwear is,” He presses one long finger against your wet slit, the fabric damp, “You’re that turned on from sucking my cock?” You nod but Hwa shakes his head, “No, tell me.”

                “Y-yes,” Your face feels hot from the confession.

                He removes your underwear, pushing your legs apart to look at your pussy. You’ve never had anyone just look at your pussy before and you squirm underneath his gaze.

                “Your pussy is beautiful, look at how swollen and wet you are for me.” His fingers touch you now, spreading your pussy lips apart gently. “Can’t wait to have my cock in your tight hole. I’m going to just slide right in there because you’re so fucking wet.”

                You make a tiny noise and he looks up at you then. Some of his hair has fallen around his face, framing it, his eyes looking as serious as ever.

                “Tell me,” He says.

                Even though you’re embarrassed at your next request, you push through and manage to squeak out, “Will you spank it?”

                “You want me to spank your cunt?” He clarifies and when you nod, he laughs a little and replies, “Yeah, I’ll spank your cunt, whore. That something else you think about?”

                “Y-yes, with you.”

                “You think a lot of stuff about me, don’t you?”

                “Yes,” You say, shivering as Hwa brushes his fingers lightly over your pussy to tease you.

                “Because you want to be my whore. Just mine.”

                “Just yours.”

                He spanks your pussy then, a smack that isn’t too hard to make the pain blot out the pleasure. You gasp in surprise from it and Hwa spits in your hole before bringing his mouth around your clit. The sudden intensity has a loud noise escape from your mouth, louder than intended, but you are unable to help yourself. Hwa holds your legs apart as his tongue works against your clit.

                To make the pleasure borderline dizzying, you can feel his tongue piercing against it. How many times have you gotten off to such a thing? Too many to count.

                Hwa pulls away and brings his hand down sharply against your cunt again before plunging a finger into your hole. Your hips buck, a garbled noise leaving your mouth from all the different sensations occurring too quickly.

                “Fuck, you’re so wet. I didn’t think it was fucking possible to be this wet,” Hwa sounds almost gleeful as he inserts a second finger, “Hold your legs back for me like a good slut.”

                You obey, although it is difficult because everything feels so good that your hands sometimes almost slip. Spread out in front of Hwa, he brings his lips back to your clit, sucking on it hard, his tongue piercing pressed against your sensitive nub. You are making a lot of noise, pornographic noises as Hwa finger fucks you so fast that you can hear the lewd noises of your wet pussy squelching against his fingers.

                Hwa’s fingers are deep in your hole, curling upwards as he pumps them in hard and fast. His tongue flicks across your clit now. Your head rolls back, and Hwa is right – there isn’t a single thought in your head. The pleasure is too great.

                You hear him spit in your cunt before going back to your clit. He is finger banging you so hard and fast now that combined with his tongue on your clit, you’re going to cum. You try to tell him but all that leaves your mouth is gibberish.

                It must make sense to Hwa though because he goes, “I know, whore. I can tell you’re close,” His voice shakes from the force of his fingers pumping into your cunt and you can feel his eyes on you. “You’re a lot of fun to fuck, has anyone told you that? It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. I know you can’t. I can tell your brain is blank. I told you I could give you that. I never lie. You look perfect like this. You’re dangerous, you know that? I might be in love with you by the end of the night because you’re just too perfect and fuckable.”

                The words prove to be your tipping point. Your climax begins, your grip slipping on your legs as your juices gush out around Hwa’s fingers to the point where you think you’ve probably made a gigantic mess on his bed. But Hwa doesn’t seem to care and is instead making small noises of approval as you cum.

                His face is buried in between your thighs as his tongue sinks into your hole, lapping your cum up eagerly. You are breathless, your entire body warm and tingling from the intensity of the orgasm. Hwa begins to kiss upwards, along your thighs, stomach, nipples and then your neck. His skin is feverish against yours and when the next kiss begins, you succumb to him completely.

                He moves so that he is on his side, one arm along your waist as he turns you so that you’re facing him. Your tongue is in his mouth, your earlier anxiety about being with him like this long gone from how comfortable he has made you feel. The tips of his fingers trail up along your side until his hand is against your back. At the same time, he raises his knee up slowly in between your legs until your pussy is pressed against it.

                Before you can even question yourself, your body reacts accordingly and grinds down against his knee. You can feel Hwa smile against your mouth as he mumbles, “Oh, you’re a fast learner.”

                The compliment leaves you pleased, continuing to rub your swollen clit against his knee, knowing he is going to bring you to orgasm again. His room, which has always been a safe place whenever you watch him on streams, feels just as safe now, wrapped up in him.

                The movements are slower this time around, as if Hwa is aware that going with such intensity for so long is new to you. He adjusts his position to make it easier to grind against his knee, sucking hard on your neck to leave another mark.

                “Does that feel good?” He asks at one point and you manage to answer which he follows up with, “Do you want it to feel even better?”

                You are unsure how such a thing is possible but with Hwa, you’re ready to do basically anything he suggests.

                “I’m going to eat out that nice cunt of yours again while you suck on my cock,” His voice is soft, close to your ear as you rock your pussy against his knee, “Would you like to do that?”

                You’d by lying if you said no, having thought about this very position multiple times during all your fantasies. “Y-yes, I want to do that.”

                “Didn’t even have to think about it. Something you’ve thought about before then?” When you nod shyly, Hwa has that same pleased expression on his face, seeming to relish every filthy thought that has crossed your mind.

                A bit out of your element with this one, you are hesitant to sit on his face but Hwa shows no such similar feeling. As the two of you adjust positions, Hwa pulls down on your hips to bring your pussy against his face without a second thought, his tongue burying itself in your hole. The sudden intensity makes you gasp and squirm in surprise which only leads to Hwa making a sound of muffled approval.

                Trying to get your bearings while Hwa tastes your pussy, you tentatively lean forward towards his boxers. You can’t help yourself – your hands graze across his taunt stomach and along the snake tattoo with absolute relish, hardly believing that you are touching him. His muscles, always hard and on display whenever he shows off his body, are now underneath your fingers. There is no shyness with Hwa, just an enjoyment of sex, pleasure and attention which you both admire and desire at the same time.

                Lowering his boxers, Hwa’s cock springs free, heavy against his stomach. It is admittedly difficult to focus on the task at hand when Hwa’s tongue is all over your pussy although you notice he is avoiding your clit to give you time to adjust.

                Your hand wraps around his cock as you take him in your mouth for the second time tonight, somehow surpassing even your lowest expectations of how running into him could play out. As your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, Hwa moves his to your clit, making your body jerk against him reflexively. His hands glide to your hips, holding you in place while taking more of him in your mouth. You slide his length as far as it can go, maybe just overly excited to be sucking him off again, and when he hits the back of your throat, he slips out from in between your lips with a small gasp. Spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth and when you rub your hand across your lips, you leave a streak of drool and precum before taking him back in.

                At the same time, Hwa groans against your cunt as his tongue flicks across your clit for a few seconds until he switches to sucking it hard with a small popping noise when he releases his hold. The sound is lewd and he does it again, just to hear it before returning to licking the overly sensitive nub.

                One of your hands fondles his balls while sucking him, enjoying how it feels to have his cock in your mouth and how warm it is along your tongue. You bob your head on him as your spit runs down his length and onto his balls, making a mess. But you don’t stop, delirious between the pleasure of Hwa’s ministrations and his cock in your throat. He is slick with spit and precum and when Hwa flicks his tongue particularly hard, you end up taking more of him, gagging around it but keeping him still in your mouth. You try to relax your throat, letting him fill you up in a way that you’ve only dreamt about.

                Hwa grunts, lifting his hips up just enough so that you choke around his cock again. This time you pull back and his cock slips out from in between your lips, lubricated with a mess of salvia and his precum. Wrapping your hand around his dick, feeling the warmth in your hand, you jerk him off. Your hand slips across his skin easily and you can tell he is close to cumming again.

                So are you, for the matter, since Hwa has his face buried in your pussy and the pleasure he is experiencing doesn’t seem to slow him down for a second versus yourself. He sucks on your clit hard, his hands gripping your hips so that you can’t squirm away.

                Unable to help yourself, your pussy grinds against his face. He seems to be getting off on being smothered by you, not stopping for a second, chasing your orgasm more than his own. You stop jerking him off to swallow his cock, taking as much as you can just as your climax begins. Your moans are a wet garbled mess against his cock. The pleasure is so intense that you know you’re making a mess all over Hwa’s beautiful face. But it seems to be the very thing that makes him finish as well. With one final buck of his slender hips, he is cumming once more in your mouth. From the angle this time, the cum spills out from in between your lips, down across his length as you try to swallow as much as the hot load that you can.

                When you finally pull your head off his cock, your legs feel like jelly and every nerve in your body feels overstimulated. Gingerly rolling off him, you collapse onto the bed and give a small shake of your head, closing your eyes and panting, “Need a break.”

                “Are you okay?” Hwa asks, sounding just as dazed as you feel.

                “Y-yeah, just…haven’t had…this many orgasms so close together and done this much in such a short amount of time,” You manage to say in between catching your breath.

                He rearranges himself so that he is laying next to you, also panting quietly. You can’t even imagine how you both look, a mess of sex and cum swathed in purple hues. For a while, neither of you speak. Your entire body is tingling, your legs like jelly. Typically, you weren’t one for just openly laying naked to someone after fooling around, usually wanting to run and cover yourself.

                But you feel at ease with Hwa, which surprises you given the fact you have been lusting and daydreaming about him for so long through a screen. Hwa, of course, gives no thought to being openly naked. You doubt he has ever experienced a moment of self consciousness in his entire life.

                He rolls onto his side to face you, staring at you with cat eyes in the dark. You tilt your face in his direction. The butterflies that had been sleeping through all the various forms of oral sex and fingering that occurred are now starting to stir.

                Some of Hwa’s hair sticks to his forehead, his lithe body draped across the sheets, the snake curling across his side and disappearing onto his back. His lips are slightly swollen and you know he is smeared in your cum but he doesn’t seem to care. He is entirely at ease, forever comfortable in his skin.

                You turn onto your side as well, close enough to touch him but neither reaches out for one another. In the silence of his room, you can hear that the storm must have begun at some point during all the sex but you hadn’t even noticed.

                “What is it?” You ask nervously, unsure why he is looking at you in that way.

                “Does it make you uncomfortable if I look at you?”

                You think for a moment before answering, “No. I just get nervous.”

                “Why?”

                “I don’t know. You might change your mind about what we are doing.”

                “You think we’ve literally and figuratively come this far and I will decide not to fuck you?”

                “Maybe.”

                He laughs quietly as if the entire suggestion is hilarious. His hand brushes across your side up along your arm. The touch is as light as a feather but you feel it down in your core.

                “No, I’m having too much fun with you,” He replies, “You weren’t thinking, were you? Earlier.”

                “No, I wasn’t,” You admit, “True to your words.”

                Hwa props himself up a little to look at you. His gaze is enough to melt you into the mattress. His hand presses softly onto your side so that you lay down on your back, looking upwards at him. His fingertips trail down across your stomach, making you shiver. He seems to be mentally filing away everything that elicits a reaction from you.

                You reach upwards for him, pulling Hwa towards your body so that your lips are on his. His hair is bunched up in your hands as the kiss deepens. You can taste yourself on his lips; can he taste himself on yours? When the kiss ends, your hands move down his back, across the warm skin there. His eyes are a heavy thing on your body as you cast a look downward at his.

                Your fingers are moving along his snake tattoo, something you have seen so many times on your phone screen now in front of you. Your hands trace the way it moves down from his shoulder, admiring the way it lays across his hips up to his stomach.

                You are fairly confident that Hwa somehow knows what you’re thinking about and that is why he doesn’t speak, content to let you touch him like this.

                That’s when the power goes out, the lightning flashing brightly through the closed window and the thunder making the walls rattle, ushering in darkness. The purple light which you have grown so accustomed to over both the camera and reality is snuffed out like a flame.

                “Oh,” You say quietly in surprise.

                Hwa’s hold on your side tightens for a second to reassure you that he is still there. Once again you are pulling him back down for a kiss. His lips still find yours in the darkness, his tongue in your mouth as he angles his body to press against yours. A sizzle seems to shoot up your spine – it is as if the darkness makes it easier to speak, to think, without seeing Hwa directly and having that attention on you.

                Hwa’s hands are running across your body, touching you all over carefully, waiting for you to signal that you’re ready to keep going. His lips are back on your neck as he nibbles there, adding more marks to the collection. Emboldened by the darkness, your hand covers one of his and pulls it upward toward your neck.

                He pauses, lifting his head up from your neck. You can feel his steady breath against your skin, can hear the low timber of his voice against the backdrop of the storm when he goes, “Tell me.”

                “Squeeze my neck,” You murmur and Hwa does so, his hand tightening around your skin.

                Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation. He is so close to you now that your body is starting to scream for him once more but he seems content to keep you lusting for him in the darkness.

                “Do you like that?”

                You nod, knowing he can feel the motion.

                “You like being treated like this by me?”

                Another nod.

                His breathing is changing. Subtle, just enough for you to realize how much he is enjoying how you submit to him, that you’ve touched yourself to him doing these things to you before the two of you even met.

                “You really are just a perfect little whore,” Hwa says, releasing his hold just enough for you to sharply inhale and then he tightens once more, “It’s a shame I can’t see you right now, see how beautiful you look with my hand around your neck.”

                He lets go, fully removing his boxers, the ruffle of fabric as it is tossed onto the floor before he shifts onto your body. It is an intoxicating sensation to have him skin to skin and your hands curl around his shoulders as your legs wrap around his small waist.

                His cock is hard pressing against your thigh. The next kiss is messier, his spit in your mouth, his entire being taking over all your senses. Unable to see him, you have to go off the other senses like the small grunt of approval he makes when you arch your hips in a silent plea to fuck you and the ragged change of his breathing.

                Hwa slips inside you easily from all the orgasms, your pussy slick with your wetness and his spit. He fills you to the hilt, his hips meeting yours as you take his entire cock in one swift motion. Your head rolls back, a moan toppling from in between your swollen lips as your hold onto his shoulder tightens.

                He curls around your body, gripping the sheets next to your head as he slowly thrusts in your cunt. You no longer feel like yourself but instead as a being intertwined with Hwa so that your senses overlap with one another. Hwa curses quietly and bites down on your earlobe, giving it a sharp tug with his teeth.

                “My whore,” He growls in your ear with a sort of lust you’ve never heard from anyone else before especially directed at you, “You feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

                His lips find yours and you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth which elicits a groan of approval of him. The kiss deepens, his tongue is in your mouth, and you can feel some spit getting on your chin. You don’t even know who it belongs to and you don’t care. You’re bucking your hips to meet his ever quickening thrusts, your bodies growing hot together as the fucking continues.

                “Say it again,” You plead in a broken voice and you don’t need to clarify what you’re asking to be repeated.

                “My whore,” He grunts and thrusts particularly hard, driving his cock deeper in your soaking wet cunt, “You going to let me fuck you again after this? No more needing to watch my streams, I’ll fuck you into my fucking mattress any time you want.”

                The words are too good to be true and you hope he isn’t just saying them because of how turned on he is. Your reply is a broken plea, half gibberish, half words and Hwa pushes away from you, grabbing your legs and bringing your feet onto his shoulders.

                He leans forward, folding you like a doll as his hips snap against yours at a brisk pace. Your pussy is obscenely wet and you can hear it even if you cannot see him. Unable to hold onto Hwa, your hands grip the bedsheets so hard that they might tear.

                “Hwa,” You gasp out and he knows – he knows because his hands are back around your neck and he’s fucking you into the bed, squeezing your throat while pounding into your cunt.

                “You like when I choke you like this, you little whore? I know you do. I don’t even need to see your face to know how much you love it. I can tell by how your pussy tightens around me, by your whimpers and moans,” He says in an unsteady voice, sounding like sandpaper as his own orgasm draws just as close as yours, “Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Where do you want my load? You already took two of them down your throat, my slut.”

                Hwa lets go of your neck but his pace is relentless. You are seconds away from finishing but manage to gasp out, “In my pussy, finish in my pussy. Choke me while I cum.”

                Hwa, just like the rest of the night, where he has maintained the illusion of control while you’ve been the one in command, obeys. His hands are back where they belong and with one final thrust, you’re climaxing yet again.

                “F-fuck,” He grunts, “You’re too tight clamping down on me like that –” His hands are off your neck, gripping the bed sheets next to your head once again.

                Hwa shudders as he unloads in your cunt, filling you up with his warmth as you rock your hips against him, making sure that every drop of his cum is inside you. The two of you are making a ton of noise together as the final climax of the night goes on. Hwa pulls away from you so that your legs flop against the bed and his hands move to your back, pressing you against him.

                He is kissing you as your climax winds down. Your bodies are slick with sweat, a collection of limbs wrapped around one another as if one of you, both of you, are afraid to lose each other in the darkness. As your intense orgasm begins to subside, Hwa lowers his head against your chest. The sound of your panting fills your ears; it feels as if you just ran a race.

                Perfectly timed, the power returns. The purple light fills the room, making you wince as your eyes grow adjusted to the soft hue. Hwa carefully untangles himself from you, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair. His back is to you, the snake once again in your clear view.

                His cum is smeared against your thighs, leaking out from in between your folds. You have never had this many orgasms in one night before and your entire body is exhausted.

                Hwa slips out of the bed, opening the door and leaving, giving no care to his nakedness on display. You can see a light flick on in the kitchen, spilling into the narrow hallway as he rummages around for water. When he returns, he has two bottles as he shuts the door again before getting back into bed.

                You prop yourself up, uncapping the water and drinking half of it promptly. Hwa finishes his entire bottle in a few gulps before turning his attention to you, who is now preoccupied with trying to get the sheet to cover up your body a bit.

                “Getting modest on me?” He asks, still slightly of breath.

                Your face grows warm at his words, grows warmer when he moves closer to you, draped out across the bed. Now that you can see him again, and his full attention is on you with no buffer, you feel shy – utterly ridiculous given what you just spent ages doing with him.

                “Did you mean what you said?” You ask suddenly.

                He raises one eyebrow, and distantly you think he would look good with a piercing there too. “Be a little more specific?”

                Your grip tightens around the water bottle and it crackles a little from the pressure. “About us doing this again. About me being your….” You trail off, swallowing hard.

                Hwa breaks out in a slow grin and goes, “Yeah, I meant it. I think we could have a lot of fun together,” He hesitates, the first time since meeting him, and adds, “I think it could be more than fun, if you understand what I mean.”

                You did and it is enough to capitulate your heart into the stratosphere. He leans forward and his lips are against yours in the softest kiss of the night. The hold on the water bottle lessens as you melt into it, into him. His hands are on your cheeks, thumbs brushing your skin. When the kiss breaks, there is a shifting of energy that feels almost like a release of all the tension and anxiety that has bubbled in your chest ever since you stumbled into his stream all that time ago.

                “My little whore,” Hwa says so affectionally that it feels like a cosmic shift in the usage of the word forever.

                And he kisses you again.

Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multiland - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @likexaxdaydream - @senpai-of-doom - @halazea - @moonsangie - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @pyeonghongrie-main - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @cherrypandora - @almondmilkeu - @kitten4sannie - @leo-seonghwa - @silentcry329 - @shesinthrain - @xirenex - @meowmeowminnie - @lvnateez - @byungaji - @rxnexxi - @mulletjoonsupremacy - @carodrug - @seonghwasstar - @hongjoongswifefr - @prettybabyme - @bubbleteakittyy - @markleecankickme

[someonellly]

Mr. Popular - Seonghwa x Reader

Summary: After your best friend leaves you alone at the party, you find yourself in an unfortunate situation, until an unexpected savior comes to save the day. Seonghwa, the popular guy, ends up being your knight in shining armor, but he also happens to be the guy your best friend is currently crushing on. So what do you do, when you find yourself getting to know him and he makes you feel things you shouldn't?

Word count: 21.8K

Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty, S M U T

Warnings: smut, fem reader (fem pronouns), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, light choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, edging (f), Hwa is very dominant hehhehehhe, lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

“You know who’s coming tonight?”

You look to your side and see a smirk on your best friend’s lips.

“Judging from the smirk on your lips, I’m guessing one of your boyfriends.” You roll your eyes jokingly and her hand smacks your arm.

“Boyfriends?!” She almost screams, and you send her a pair of eyes to tell her to quiet down. The poor taxi driver has driven you two all across town and has heard plenty of your conversations, and you’re starting to feel bad for him. “They’re not my boyfriends.. yet.” She smirks.

“How many do you plan on dating, huh?” You look out of the window, not recognizing the area. 

“Crushing on someone is not the same as dating them. Just because two of my favorite eye-candies are coming tonight, doesn’t mean I’m going to talk to both of them.”

“And who’s that?” You ask curiously. Last time you counted, she was crushing on 5 people from your school, a few of whom she has never spoken to.

“Mingi and Seonghwa.” She answers confidently. “And who I’ll be shooting my shot at tonight, all depends on who catches my eye first.” She shrugs, and you roll your eyes once again. Once again, you feel bad for the taxi driver, but when you see a house full of people, you know you’re finally at your destination. You pay for the cab before heading out, and the music from the house blasts loudly in every direction. 

Your best friend grabs you under the arm and drags you towards the party she got you both invited to. She was the social one of the two of you. She knew everyone, knew how to get her way, and was happily dragging you along with her. You on the other hand, mostly only agreed to come so she would keep inviting you to things. 

It’s hard to be as extroverted as her, but you got a taste of the popularity from her, and that was enough for you. You didn’t attend these parties quite often. They were alright, but you enjoyed your relaxing weekends even more. But it had been a while since your last party, so you decided tonight was the night.

People fill the yard outside, smoking and drinking, and you mentally prepare yourself for the party inside. As you enter through the front door, you’re welcomed by a vibrant atmosphere. Every room is filled with people laughing and dancing, and the bass from the music vibrates through the entire floor to your body. The smell of alcohol filling your nose, a group of guys screaming over a game of beer pong, and the sticky floor from spilled alcohol remind you why these parties aren’t your favorite way to spend your night. You look to your side and see your best friend scanning the room.

“You see something?” You ask, seeing as she squints her eyes in a certain direction.

“I’ve spotted my target for tonight.” She wriggles her brows with a smirk and you feel her let go of your arm. “A tall Mingi just went out to the backyard.” She lets completely go of you, but before she goes anywhere, you grab her hand again.

“Are you leaving me?” Panic is evident in your voice. You’ve been here for 15 seconds, and she’s already about to leave you for a guy.

“No! I’m just... Getting us something to drink... From the backyard...” Her excuse isn't getting her far, and your sigh lets her know how you feel about the situation. “I’ll just go talk to him really quick, okay? I’ll be back. Please?” She sends you her famous doe-eyes as she softly holds your hand.

“The eyes only work on guys, you know that,” You shake your head, looking at the door Mingi just went through. Your gaze meets her eyes again, and another deep sigh leaves you. “Go.. Before I change my mind.” Your words have her jumping, and she quickly kisses you on the cheek before making her way toward the door that leads to the backyard and a certain Mingi. 

A sigh escapes between your lips as you look around at the party in this unfamiliar house. Your eyes try to scan after someone you can hang out with while your friend shoots her shot, but it only leaves you unsatisfied. You recognize a few people, but not anyone you’d categorize as your friends. A group of guys runs past you, nearly running into your still-standing frame, before they exit the door filled with drunken laughs.  

Your introverted side is really kicking your ass right now. 

You find your phone in your pocket, trying your best to look busy and fail to see the eyes watching you from across the room. Eyes that belong to someone who doesn’t see you at these parties very often, and is too busy people watching, compared to his friends around him who have their own conversation going. He takes a sip of his drink as his eyes stay on you. He wonders why you’re all by yourself, or if you’re waiting for someone. 

“Don’t you think, Hwa?” Wooyoung asks as San laughs, but Seonghwa hasn’t heard a word of their conversation.

“Sure.” He simply responds and looks at you again. A loud group of guys snatch his attention from you. They’ve been loud the entire night, and he’s honestly not a fan of this group of guys. They’re from another college and are always at these parties where they tend to make a fool of themselves. The group of guys are standing around a small table filled with bottles of alcohol, and a few of them point in a specific direction. Seonghwa’s eyes follow their pointing and he realizes they’re talking about you. 

This catches his attention even more, and he keeps his eyes on the group of guys as he watches them make a drink, and one of them heads in your direction, two drinks in hand. 

“Hey, you look a bit lost?” A voice steals the focus from your phone, and you look up to see a guy with two drinks in his hands.

“Oh, I just barely know anyone here.” You say, putting away your phone. 

“Then let me accompany you, I’m Daniel! Nice to meet you,” He holds out a hand for you to shake. He has a friendly smile on his lips, so you shake his hand and introduce yourself. “You came here alone?” He asks.

“No, I came with someone else but I kinda lost them. So I just decided to stay here... they’ll come back... Hopefully.” You honestly don’t know when your best friend will be back. She’s done this a few times before, and she can be back in 5 minutes or 3 hours. 

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be alone as well. Can I join you?” He sends you another smile. His voice is courteous and accommodating, and he’s the only one who has talked to you, so you decide to let your inner extrovert shine.

“Sure.” You shrug.

“Cool. I also happen to carry an extra drink with me... Are you up for a game?” He lifts a brow daringly, and it turns on a fire in you. You may not know this guy, or be the biggest fan of drinking games, but you feel tempted to accept. 

“It depends.” There’s a skepticism evident in your voice.

“Whoever chucks the fastest, gets to make the other one a drink, and they have to drink it. Deal?” He holds out one of the drinks for you. The orange color of the drink makes it look fruity, and you’re tempted to lose yourself for once. 

Have fun, be open, meet people. 

“Deal” You grab the drink.

A smile spreads on his lips and he holds out his drink to cheer with you. You bump your drink with his and slowly get ready for this small challenge he gave you. Your hand brings the drink to your lips, and you get ready to chuck while Daniel starts a countdown. 

“Alright, ready? 3..2..1..”

“There you are!” An unknown voice interrupts just as you’re about to drink. You and Daniel both stop and look at the owner of the voice, and you freeze when you see a tall figure next to you. “Sorry, I took so long, Angel. You’re already starting without me?” Seonghwa asks before he grabs the drink from your hand. You’re completely frozen in your spot as you watch Seonghwa take a sip of the drink and make a disgusted face. “Oh, babe, you don’t like this... Remember that drink you tasted a few weeks ago? It tastes exactly like that,” Seonghwa pours out the drink in an empty bowl on the table next to you. His scent wraps around you like a warm hug, when he relaxes his arm around your shoulders and shifts his gaze to Daniel. “And who do we have here?”

Daniel narrows his eyes in Seonghwa’s direction, but Seonghwa doesn’t seem intimidated in the slightest.  

“Daniel,” He answers coldly. "Who are you?"

“Let’s get you something good to drink.” Seonghwa looks down at you with a smile and completely ignores Daniel's question and presence. Seonghwa's black hair falls down in front of his eyes as he looks down at you, and you’re lost for words. You’ve never spoken to Seonghwa before, only seen him in class or whenever your best friend wanted to show pictures of him, but being this close to him so suddenly, seeing his sharp features up close, sends a quick rush of warmth throughout your body. 

Seonghwa definitely caught your eye at times. He and his friends were some of the popular guys on campus, and most people knew who they were. Hence, they were always at the parties. But Seonghwa seemed like one of the more “friendly” ones. He wasn’t as intimidating as some of the others in his group and generally gave you the best impression. And seeing him up close like this, you see why so many girls were crushing on him.

Seonghwa grabs your hand and wedges himself through the crowd and into the empty kitchen, leaving Daniel alone. The loud music quiets down to a less deafening volume, yet the loud voices from people are still evident from around the house. Alcohol, empty cups, and chips are lined up on the kitchen island, and he lets go of your hand before you watch him as he starts mixing two drinks.

“What just happened?” Is all you finally manage to say as Seonghwa locks his focus on the drinks.

“He and his friends.. bad news.” He explains and you watch him pour alcohol and soda into the cups. His black slightly curly hair falls down on his face again, and together with his big black sweater, he gives a relaxed vibe, despite being in the chaotic household.

“Really? He seemed cool.” You don’t know much about these parties, but Daniel seemed nice, and not like “bad news” as Seonghwa called him.

“Yeah, they do until they get you drunk and take advantage of you.” His words make it sound like this has happened before. He doesn’t keep his eyes on you much, too focused on making the drinks as he takes a quick sip of one of them. He doesn’t look fully satisfied and continues to mix some more soda into the cups.

“Do you know him?” You ask.

“I know about him, but I saw him approach you and the way he spoke to you.” He grabs a spoon and uses it to mix the liquids in the cups. His words have you tilting your head slightly.

“You were watching me?” You ask, narrowing your eyes jokingly at him. Seonghwa smiles to himself, avoiding your eyes, and keeps his gaze on the drinks. 

“Here..“ He hands out one of the cups to you, ignoring your question. He finally looks into your eyes and the big brown eyes lock with yours as you take the drink. “He and his friends had hidden the taste of alcohol so you would get drunk quicker,” He explains before taking a quick sip of his cup. “Never take drinks from strangers.” 

“Kinda suspicious saying that after handing me a drink, don’t you think?” You ask, lifting the cup to your lips. You let the liquid make its way into your mouth, and you're instantly impressed with the flavor. It doesn’t taste a lot like alcohol, but you also noticed how much soda Seonghwa added to the drinks compared to the amount of alcohol. 

Seonghwa sends you a warm smile. “I’m Seonghwa.” He says.

“I know.” You say before telling him your name in return.

“I know. We have class together.” His words leave you slightly speechless. Never had you noticed his eyes on you or heard your name escape through his lips. Sitting at the other end of the classroom, not being part of the same friend groups, never sharing a conversation. It honestly made sense if he didn’t have any idea of your existence. 

“I didn’t think you had noticed me,” You say quietly, trying to hide your blushing cheeks. His soft piercing eyes had a bigger effect on you than you cared to admit. “In a class with 95 other students, I feel like it’s pretty easy to blend in.” 

He shakes his head. “Nah, I see you in class..” The way his eyes continue to show warmth and friendliness, despite never looking into them for this long, have your knees softening. “You have a very innocent face. Like an angel,” His words make you forget everything for a second, never having heard that compliment before. “But I usually see you with this other girl, I think I saw a glimpse of her and Mingi tonight.” 

Hearing how your best friend successfully made a move on Mingi, somehow makes you feel a little better for her leaving you. At least her plan worked.

“Speaking of her..” You start, looking at your cup. “What do you think of her?” Your curiosity got the best of you. Talking to Seonghwa, one of her many crushes, could open your chances of being a wonderful wingman for your friend.

A wrinkle formed between Seonghwa’s brows as he tried reading where this conversation was heading. His skepticism of the topic held him back from answering, so you decided to expose your friend.

“My friend has a little crush on you. That’s why I’m asking.” You shrug, and Seonghwa let out an awkward laugh.

“Oh... I haven’t spoken with her enough to have an opinion. She seems nice though.” It didn’t seem like he was ecstatic at the information about your friend’s crush on him. But Seonghwa seemed like the guy to get confessions from girls a few times a week, so this probably wasn’t new to him.

“I’m just saying... If you want to shoot your shot with her, she won't decline.” You’re working your hardest, trying to be the best wingman for your friend. If only she knew that you were spending your time talking to her crush about her, while she was shootig her shot at someone else.

Seonghwa seem to have the same train of thought. 

"Are you trying to set me up with your friend while she's visibly trying to hook up with my friend?" There's a smile on his lips, slight confusion evident in his voice.

"Look, I'm just trynna be a good wingman here." You hold up your hands like you're innocent, earning a chuckle from Seonghwa.

“Well, maybe... But I’m kinda busy tonight trying to save this girl from some creep trying to get her drunk at this party.” A smirk formed on Seonghwa’s lips and the urge to roll your eyes rushed over you. 

His brown eyes were slightly hidden by his black hair, and as much as you hated to admit it, you felt intrigued by him. He had a certain charm and friendliness that made you addicted to his presence, and despite only talking for a short amount of time, you’re already more than comfortable around him.

“You don’t think I’m able to take care of myself?” You ask teasingly.

“Oh, I know you can take care of yourself. But when you see a blind person crossing the street, you still offer help, even though they know how to walk by themselves.” His anecdote had you smiling. He lifts his cup slightly in your direction, still with a smirk decorating his lips. “Cheers, angel face.” His smirk hides behind his cup as he keeps his eyes on you. Never did you think your best friend’s crush would be your savior of the night, but you find yourself more comfortable with him than anyone else at this party so far.

You both lift each of your cups to your mouth, and you taste the sweet taste on your tongue. Seonghwa’s eyes linger on you while he also takes a sip, and you’re glad you can blame the warmth in your cheeks on the alcohol. 

The two of you start various conversations in the middle of the kitchen, barely noticing the people around you, and you use this time to try and get to know Seonghwa. He's making you laugh, telling you stories about previous parties, and telling you about his friend group. You try opening up to him as well, but you realize how his life is much more exciting than yours. But Seonghwa is very accommodating and asks multiple questions about you, making you feel welcome. 

It makes you feel better, having someone to talk to in this crowded house of strangers, but as you're about to say something, a presence enters the kitchen, stealing Seonghwa’s attention from you.

“Seonghwa! I’ve been looking for you!” The female voice bursts out, and you look at the doorway to see a beautiful girl walking towards Seonghwa. Instantly, your confidence falls to the ground, as the popular girl steals the popular guy from you. 

You watch as she walks past you, barely paying you any attention as she steps in front of you so she can talk to Seonghwa. Your feet take a few steps back, allowing her the space she needs. Seonghwa notices how you move away and he looks down at the intruder. 

“Oh, sorry, can I talk to you in a minute? I have-”

“You said that before too!” The girl interrupts, and you meet Seonghwa’s apologetic eyes. You know you’re not usually a part of this environment, and the people used to these parties probably know each other in a way you don’t. You send Seonghwa a smile and take a few steps toward the doorway.

“It’s fine, I have to find my friend... Thank you for this.” You hold up the drink before making your way out of the kitchen. You ignore the small crack in your heart as you walk away, actually not wanting to stop your conversation with Seonghwa. You’re thankful for him saving you, but you don’t want to hold him back from talking to his friends at the party. You decide not to look back at Seonghwa as you make your way through the crowd. What you don’t see is Seonghwa’s locked gaze on you as you walk away, barely listening to the girl in front of him. 

You choose to look after your friend, deciding on her behalf that she has spent enough time with Mingi. What you didn’t expect, was to search for her everywhere for what felt like hours. You even ended up searching for Mingi, but both of them seemed gone like the wind. Going around the crowded house multiple times, trying to find a familiar face was an impossible mission. The thought of leaving did cross your mind, but you were in an unfamiliar neighborhood all the way across town. Getting a cab would be expensive as hell, and since you expected to share a cap with your friend, you weren’t keen on the idea of paying twice as much for a ride home. You therefore decide to stay, hopefully finding your best friend sooner or later.

The softness of the couch felt like a reward as you sat down amid the crowd, relaxing your legs. You wrote a mental note to yourself to never let your friend leave you in the middle of a party where you know literally zero people. 

The couch gets another visitor, and you look to your side to see a smile in your direction.

“Guess you didn’t find your friend?” Seonghwa asks, earning a shake of your head.

“Nope. She’s literally gone with the wind.” You lean further back on the couch when Seonghwa hands out a cup for you.

“No thank you, I don’t feel like drinking anymore.” 

“Good thing it’s water then. I figured you weren’t in the mood for alcohol.” He sends you a warm smile, and you see the clear liquid in the cup. 

You always saw Seonghwa as the friendly type, but he also seemed kind, funny, and thoughtful. He’s like your knight in shining armor tonight, saving you from the villains, who happen to be drunk frat guys. 

“You know, a guy once told me to never take drinks from strangers, so I don’t think I can accept this.” Despite being in a bad mood, you still find the energy to tease Seonghwa, and he responds by rolling his eyes with a smile.

“Good thing I’m not a stranger then, but a guy from your class slash guy who saved you from getting too drunk slash your best friend’s crush.” He extends his arm with the cup for you to take, and you chuckle as you accept the water. Him addressing himself as “your best friend’s crush” kicks you in the head, as you didn’t expect to suddenly feel a certain type of way about that title.

If your best friend hadn’t been crushing on Seonghwa for months, you would have allowed the caged butterflies in your stomach to break free, but you couldn’t. You’re not a bad friend.

“Good point. Thank you.” 

“What have you been doing all night? besides talking to creepy frat guys and sitting here?” Seonghwa keeps his soft eyes on you, and a deep sigh leaves between your lips. Is now the time you break to Seonghwa what you’ve been doing all night, or should you make it sound like you had the time of your life?

You decide on the first one.

“Oh, I had one hell of a night. I spent 25 minutes on the bathroom floor upstairs because I didn’t know where else to go. It has underfloor heating if that sounds tempting.” You take a sip of the water, letting the cold freshness hit you. 

“Wow, I kinda wish that was me.” He jokingly replies.

“I have something better... someone spilled this weird green substance all over my arm, which probably completely ruined my shirt. Then I walked around the house six times, went outside to get some air, and now I’m here.” You look to see his brown eyes full of amusement looking back at you, and him trying his best to hide the smile on his lips.

“You’re right, that is better.” He says, and you can’t help but chuckle at the way your night has been so far. 

Your eyes travel around the crowd, and they instantly dwell on the girl who interrupted your conversation with Seonghwa earlier. She’s standing in the crowd, surrounded by her friends, but her eyes are locked on Seonghwa. It’s obvious to you that she’s trying to get his attention, and seeing how popular Seonghwa is amongst the girls, you’re reminded of how different the two of you are.

He likes to party, he’s popular, and all the girls in school love him because of his handsome looks and welcoming personality... On the other hand, you barely know anyone, like to stay home to watch a movie by yourself, and have not once had any romantic interaction with any guy from your school.

“You seem quite popular,” You say quietly, feeling Seonghwa’s eyes on you for more context. You point to the girl on the dance floor, and as he lays his eyes on the girl, she sends him a small wave. You can’t help but look at Seonghwa to see his reaction, but he simply sends her a smile in return. Your eyes flicker between them for a moment. “Don’t let me hold you back if you wanna talk to her.”

“Hey, can I show you something?” He suddenly asks, changing the subject. His gaze goes back to you, and you look at him with squinted eyes.

“I hate these questions. It can either be a wart on the ass, a beautiful sunset, or anything in between.” Your words have him almost breaking into a laugh, but he tries his best to keep his cool.

“If I promise it isn’t a wart on my ass, will you come with me?” He asks with a raised brow. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Suit yourself then.” He stands up from the couch like he knows you'll get up to follow him. And without looking back at you, he senses your presence behind him, and he takes you to the first floor. The crowd is much thinner up here, easier to talk.

“Alright, wait here..” He turns around to you, and you look at him patiently as he sends you a warm smile. His tall frame walks past you and heads downstairs once again, and you stand patiently in the hallway. 

What you see up here, isn’t surprising to you. Couples enter the first floor, hand in hand, find themselves in an empty room, and lock the door behind them immediately after. It doesn’t take a genius to know what’s happening behind the door, and a slight worry washes over you. What does Seonghwa want up here? Is he actually like the boys you hear about, who messes with girls at parties and leaves them right after? When is he coming back? 

And you have plenty of time to think those things through because after 25 minutes, Seonghwa is still nowhere to be seen. You’re left in the hallway, couples entering and exiting the different rooms, and you’re still leaning up against the wall Seonghwa left you at. Deciding you’ve waited enough, your feet start to move.

You decide to walk downstairs again, not knowing what to expect when he left you in the empty hallway. But when you see him talking and laughing with that girl from earlier in the middle of the crowd, you feel stupid for waiting so long.

Seonghwa is popular, and girls love him. You understand why they do, so you can’t even blame him for constantly being busy talking to people. The thoughts are quickly pushed out of your head, as you make your way upstairs again and lock yourself into the bathroom for the second time tonight. 

You don’t know how much time you spend in the bathroom, only sitting on the heated floor in your own company as you wait for a cab to arrive and take you home. You’ve decided you’d rather pay for the expensive ride home than be all alone at this party. After receiving a message that the cab is near, you open the door and surprise hits you when you see who waits on the other side. 

Seonghwa, breathing heavily like he had been running around, is leaning against the door frames, trapping you inside the bathroom. A sight of relief flashes through his eyes when he sees you, and you’re taken aback by his tall frame in front of you.

“How’d you know I was here?” You ask.

“Underfloor heating.” He simply replies, and you mentally curse at yourself for exposing your hiding place earlier. “I’ve been looking for you, why did you go?”

You take a moment to figure out how to answer, not wanting to make it sound like you're mad, because honestly, you're not. You're just tired of running around, searching for people when you'd rather be home.

“Well... you left me standing alone for 25 minutes and then I saw you downstairs talking to your friends, so I just decided to go.” The awkward smile on your lips sums up the emotions you're feeling. "It's fine though, don't worry about it."

Seonghwa’s shoulders fall and regret washes over him.

“I didn’t-..” He stops mid-sentence and looks around before making his way into the bathroom with you and locking the door behind him. The two of you are now completely alone, separating yourself from the party and blasting music downstairs. “Shit, sorry.. Hey, I didn’t mean to leave you like that. I was gonna show you the balcony but I needed the keys from one of the guys here, but then my friend Wooyoung got in a fight and this girl from before wouldn’t let me leave alone and then-”

“Seonghwa, it’s okay, you really don’t have to explain..” You interrupt Seonghwa before he loses his own breath. “You’re at a party and you should enjoy yourself with all of your friends. I promise you don’t have to feel bad, the two of us aren’t even friends. I just called a cap anyway so I’m going home.”

“Home? Where do you live?”

You tell him your address and his brows nearly shoot up in the ceiling. 

“You know how expensive a cab is gonna be from here? It’s all the way across town.” He says as if you weren’t perfectly aware of the situation.

“I don’t have much choice.” You shrug.

“You can stay?” 

“And be surrounded by strangers with no one to talk to besides creepy dudes who tryna get me drunk? No, thank you.” You scoff at the idea of staying, already surprised you aren’t home in your bed already. As much as you hate to admit it, Seonghwa was the reason why you stayed even longer, but you not knowing anyone at the party, isn't his responsibility. He should have fun with his friends. Not be your babysitter.

“Well, I’m coming with you then.” His words shoot out of his mouth and hit you like a bullet. You did not expect this answer, but you shake your head in response to him.

��No, don’t. You seem to have a great time here, and I can take a cap myself.” 

“I know you can, but I’ll have to take a cap later eventually and I don’t wanna pay all of that money. This way, we’ll split.” His reasoning does make sense, but you still feel like you’re robbing him from having fun at the party.

“Are you sure? I don’t want-”

“Come on, stop trying to convince me otherwise. Let’s just go.” Before you get to say anything, Seonghwa grabs your hand, locks your fingers with his, and opens the bathroom door. You try to ignore the way your hand feels in his, as he makes his way downstairs with you behind him, his large frame shielding you from the people in the crowd. He makes sure to look back at you, ensuring himself he isn’t losing you out of his sight again, already feeling terrible for leaving you like he did.

As he finally sees the front door, he abruptly stops when he notices the group by the exit. Your body almost crashes into his, but he’s quick to turn around and stop you. Worry flashes in his eyes, and you suddenly have no idea what to expect, but he’s quick to notice the way his action affects you and informs you of the situation.

“Alright, don’t look, but the guy, Daniel, from earlier and his friends are standing by the door... I really don’t trust them so just stay behind me. Okay?” He tries his best not to worry you, but you see the way his eyes look and you’re not certain of the situation. But despite the growing knot in your stomach, you nod before he turns around and makes his way to the front door. 

You try your best to do as Seonghwa said and stay close to him, and you have a slight hope that the group of guys won’t notice you and Seonghwa leaving, but it quickly falls to the ground when Daniel steps in front of Seonghwa. Your body hides behind Seonghwa as he just stares Daniel straight in the eyes, waiting for him to let you guys through the door.

“Hey, sorry to bother you two again, but I didn't get your name earlier.. Haven’t I seen you before?” Daniel questions, obviously trying to provoke Seonghwa in some way.

“I don’t know, your face doesn’t seem recognizable.” Seonghwa responds, only stirring the pot, trying to annoy Daniel. A scoff leaves Daniel, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow. You really want to get out of here, as you don’t feel safe around this Daniel-guy. 

You squeeze Seonghwa’s hand in yours, trying to get his attention. “Seonghwa-”

“Ohhhh, now I know! You’re the Seonghwa. Park Seonghwa, the one who is friends with San and Wooyoung!” Daniel shouts, interrupting you. You notice how people have started gathering around you like they’re waiting for something to happen. This only makes you even more nervous about the situation, and Seonghwa instantly notices your reaction to the crowd around you.

“Listen, if you have anything going on with them, it’s not my problem. Just let us get out of here.” Seonghwa’s words are soft like he doesn’t want to make the situation worse. 

“Of course... Can you just give this to your friends then?” Daniel holds out a closed fist, waiting for Seonghwa to hold out his hand. But before Seonghwa gets to react, Daniel swings his arm and a punch is thrown at Seonghwa’s face. A loud gasp flies out of your mouth, and your free hand covers your mouth in shock. Your heart is beating faster than ever, almost messing up your breathing.

Seonghwa’s body turns, and he hunches over from the hit. His free hand goes to his mouth, where the salty, metallic taste of blood hits him. 

“Tell your friends I said hi.” Daniel takes a step forward, hunching down close to Seonghwa as he speaks hushed to Seonghwa only. “I know the people around you, Seonghwa... I’ve seen your little girlfriend now too, so don’t fuck with me.” Daniel bites before making his way through the big crowd of people, now surrounding you. Seonghwa removes his hand to see blood coming from his lip, and for a split second, he almost loses his cool. 

Daniel's friends follow him, a few of them knocking their shoulders into Seonghwa purposefully, before they all disappear into the crowd. Whispers from the staring eyes surrounding you start, and Seonghwa stands up straight before heading in the direction Daniel went. As he takes the first step, he feels a pull from his hand, and when he turns around, his heart almost breaks.

You stand before him, tears forming in your eyes, silently begging him not to go after the group. Everything stops when he sees the look in your eyes. You look scared, concerned, worried. It breaks his heart in a way he never expected, so he squeezes your hand, still in his, and looks you soft in the eyes.

“Let’s go.” He says before dragging you with him out of the house, leaving the chaotic scene. The cap is outside waiting for you, and Seonghwa helps you inside before getting in the cap himself. He tells the driver your address, remembering from when you told him before and he looks at you concerned. “Hey, are you okay?”

Your gaze shoots at him, slightly confused with his question. “Am I okay? You just got punched in the face.”

“I’m fine... But you’re crying.” 

You hadn’t noticed your tears before he mentioned it, and you rub your eyes, removing the evidence. The sight of Seonghwa getting punched in the face replays in your head.

“It looked scary... Seeing you being punched like that.” You don’t know what to say, looking down at your hands, resting on your lap. You feel the rush of guilt over you for having Seonghwa interact with Daniel tonight because of you. 

“I’ll just put some ice on it when I get home. It’ll probably bruise a little, but that’s all.” He tries searching for your gaze, but you keep avoiding him.

A silence fills the car, the only sound coming from the low radio in the cap. The streetlights pass you as you’re on your way home. After hours of being in the house with loud music, it should feel relieving to sit in the silence of the car. But your mind is running wild, thoughts louder than any music.

Seonghwa is about to open his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“You do this a lot? Get into fights? If I hadn’t pulled you back I’m scared you would’ve gotten into a real fight.” You finally get the courage to look at him, and he immediately shakes his head.

“No... I would’ve told him to leave us alone. Leave you alone.” He replies softly, but you still have questions flooding your mind.

“Why did he want to fight? Are your friends.. dangerous?” 

Seonghwa seems taken aback by your questions and shakes his head again.

“Noo, no no, not at all! San and Wooyoung just like to pull pranks on people, and some people take their pranks a little more seriously than they intend to.” Seonghwa begins explaining, not wanting to hide anything from you. “Remember the fight I told you Wooyoung got in earlier? It was with one of the guys from Daniel's friend group, and I guess Daniel and his friends are some of those people who take their pranks a little too personally.” He tries reading the look on your face, but the cap is dark, only lit up by the streetlights outside. But the silence coming from you is enough for him to know how you feel. “I’ll talk to San tomorrow and make sure this won’t happen again. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

A heavy sigh escapes Seonghwa as he runs his fingers through his hair, the weighing feeling on his shoulders feels unbearable as the night escalated from the beginning. From the moment he saw you, he felt like he needed to protect you. Step in and make you feel safe and comfortable at the party. But as he kept talking to you, he found himself not wanting to go from you. But he kept doing so. He kept messing it up for himself, and he couldn’t stop mentally cursing at himself for doing this to you. For ruining your night, when all you deserved was a simple friend to hang out with.

He’s about to open his mouth and apologize for making your night shitty, but your words stop him.

“Please let me help you with your lip, you need to get some ice on that. That’s the least I can do.”

Confusion hits him, not sure he heard you right.

“What do you mean? This didn’t happen because of you.” He points at his mouth, blood still visible from the busted lip.

“But I feel like if I hadn’t talked to him, you wouldn’t have had to step in and save me from getting dead drunk. Please, I really want to help, you can also sleep on the couch if you wanna stay over. I have a pretty good couch if I do say so myself.” 

Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say. His eyes just soften even more at the sight of you blaming yourself for something out of your control. 

“But-”

“Seonghwa.” You insist again, not backing down. The guilt is taking up most of the space in your stomach, so you need him to accept your offer. He looks at you for a moment, trying to see who of the two of you backs down first. But a deep sigh leaves between Seonghwa’s lips as he realizes how stubborn you are.

“Sure.”

Silence surrounds the both of you for the rest of the ride to your apartment complex, and you feel him follow you as you exit the cap and make your way to your apartment. None of you said a word to the other in the elevator to your floor, both exhausted from the chaotic night. You unlock your front door as he awaits behind you, and he takes in the sight of your home when you both enter.

“Just... act like you’re home, you can get comfortable on the couch while I find something for your lip.” You throw your keys and purse on the small table in the hallway, before disappearing into the kitchen. 

Seonghwa slowly makes his way further into your apartment while you find what’s necessary. You find some frozen peas in your freezer and wrap the bag in a towel so I won’t be too cold on his lip. Having Seonghwa in your apartment was definitely not something you ever expected to happen, but your mind is running on survival mode after the chaotic night. You also find some vaseline for the wound, along with some saltwater. 

As you enter the living room, Seonghwa is studying the pictures decorating your wall. His relaxed figure, hands resting in his front pockets as he studies the pictures with a small smile. 

He seems too focused on the decor in your apartment to notice your presence. “Seonghwa,” You say and he turns around, immediately looking at you with the cleaning kit you’ve gathered. “Couch.” 

“Yes, boss.” Despite the weird tension from the fight, he still manages to tease you as you both get comfortable on the couch. You turn on a small lamp behind the couch to get a better view of his wound, and you start rinsing his lip with the saltwater. 

He winces at the touch, and you look apologetic at him as you continue to remove the dried blood from his lip. You try to make it quick, not wanting him to be in more pain, and quickly put pressure on the lip with the frozen peas. 

“Hold this.” You say.

Seonghwa goes to grab the bag and his large hand covers yours while doing so. You can’t help but notice how small your hand is compared to his, and the warmth from his adds a significant contrast to the frozen peas, freezing in your palm. Shocked by the feeling he gives you, you pull your hand away, leaving him to hold the peas alone against his lip.

“It feels nice,” His voice gets deeper as he relaxes on your couch and leans back. “You really are an angel, aren't you?” There's a teasing in his voice, but the words have a bigger chokehold on you than you would like to admit. 

Seonghwa’s eyes close, and you take this opportunity to really study his features, and the first thing you notice is how incredibly handsome he is. His black hair looks more messy compared to the beginning of the night, now constantly resting before his eyes. He hasn’t done anything to fix it for a while, and a part of you wants to remove it, but the messy look suits him better than ever. 

He looks so soft relaxing against the pillows on your couch, the light behind you perfectly highlighting certain parts of his face. His lips are slightly parted, long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheekbones and his breathing gets softer the more relaxed he is. 

Before you catch yourself doing something you might regret, you shake your head to yourself and look away from him.

“Thank you for helping me tonight. My impression of you has only gotten better.” You say, breaking the silence. Tonight’s party left you with a weird feeling, but if it hadn’t been for Seonghwa, you wouldn’t even imagine what would have happened to you.

His eyes open, instantly focusing on you with a soft look. 

“Did you have a bad impression of me before?” He asks curiously. 

“No, not at all. Tonight just confirmed that you don’t fit into the popular-asshole-category. More the popular-nice-guy-category.” Your shoulders lift to a shrug, and your eyes lock in the dimmed light. You notice a flash of something unknown in his eyes as the words leave your mouth. He gets silent once again, looking away from you before taking a deep breath.

“I don’t see myself as popular thought.” He admits. You suddenly wish he could see himself from your perspective. This man was the blueprint of the perfect, popular guy. Has many friends, is nice, is invited to all the parties, everyone knows him. Not to forget all the girls searching for his attention. 

“Are you serious? The amount of girls I saw drooling over you tonight, is actually insane.” 

“Yeah, but they just want me to fuck them,” His eyes shoot back at you. “It’s only superficial from their side.” 

You’re taken aback by the way this conversation is going, not knowing how to respond. There’s a subtle hint of hurt in his voice, but also acceptance. Like this is just the way it is. 

“Sounds like you’ve got some experience with that.” You say.

“Mhm.. That’s how it is with these people,” He shrugs, still relaxing against the big cushions on the couch, letting his eyes travel away from you to gather his thoughts. “You party at the same house, with the same people with the same mindset, every weekend. Maybe, you find someone interesting, take them to an empty room, and you fuck each other. Then you walk out of there and don’t talk until the next party, where you fuck again. These people want to feel love, but they don’t actually want it.” 

The way he talks about the parties sounds similar to how your best friend describes them. She loves the chaotic energy it brings, how people are kind of the same, looking for the same thing. But Seonghwa’s description doesn’t sound as appealing as when she talks about it. And it all reminds you again, why you aren’t going to these parties every weekend.

“Do you want it?” You ask. “Love?”

“I want it with the right person,” He still looks away from you, letting out his thoughts. “I used to like this environment. Going to parties, having girls throw themselves at me, feeling like I could get whatever I wanted without having to make an effort. It made me feel.. powerful. But I also started to feel used. Like I wasn’t more than a good fuck to them.”

He then looks back at you, and you now understand where the hurt in his voice came from. 

Never had you expected this about Seonghwa, he always seemed like he thrived in the popularity and the benefits that came with it. 

But maybe he was right. It is all superficial.

“Well, not to be that person, but I feel like they’re missing out if they don’t get to know you.” You send him a smile, trying your best to light the mood with the truth in your words. 

“And you say that like you know me.” His lips tug into a smirk.

“I feel like I’m starting to have a pretty good idea of who you are.”

“And who am I?”

You take a moment to think, considering the pros and cons of telling him.

“I don’t wanna say, in case I’m wrong and it bites me in the ass.” Your words leave him smiling. This side of Seonghwa is the purest you’ve seen so far. 

In class, he’s usually very talkative and once again, popular. But this Seonghwa, who’s opening up to you like you’ve known each other for years, has a depth you have never seen in him. And the more you get to know him, the less you understand how someone can sleep with him and not feel the need to know him for him. 

Just by the conversations you’ve shared tonight, you’re intrigued by his welcoming personality, his need to protect the ones around him, and his warm smile. 

You look away from his eyes and down to the frozen bag of peas, still pressed against his lip. “How does your lip feel?”

“Swollen. Is it?” He removes the bag and turns his head so you can get a better view of the busted lip. The light from the lamp behind you doesn’t really do its justice, and only creates shadows from your heads instead. 

“Turn your head to the light,” You guide him, and he turns again but it doesn’t help. “Here, let me.” 

You gently grab a hold of his face and scoop closer to him as you turn his head. The light perfectly shows you the condition of his lip, and you do your best to see any swelling. But the more you look at his lips, you can’t seem to look away. 

They’re slightly parted, and as he gently relaxes in your hands, you can’t help but realize how perfect they look. The color, the shape. Everything comes together, and you suddenly wonder how it would be to be kissed by those lips. How soft of a kiss he would leave on your lips, or how they could leave traces of kisses down your skin. All while speaking with the mildness in his voice, and the gentle touch from his fingers travel over you.

You suddenly realize where your thoughts were taking you, and you look up to his eyes, to see him stare back at you. 

Heart pounding hard against your chest, you let go of his face and scoop away from him on the couch.

“Uhm, it looks okay, just make sure to put on the Vaseline and you’ll be good,” You stand up from the couch and point to the blankets next to him. “There are blankets and pillows on the couch, so make yourself at home, and if you need anything just knock on my door.” You rub your palms on your hips, trying to get rid of the sweatiness.

Seonghwa looks up at you from the couch, sending you a smile.

“Alright. Thank you.” 

Not knowing what to do and mentally cursing yourself for having those thoughts about him, you quickly make your way to your bedroom. 

“Goodnight, Seonghwa.” 

“Goodnight, angel.”

***

Nervous to open the door from your bedroom, you take a deep breath before pulling down the handle. Silence rings in the hallway leading to the living room where Seonghwa slept for the night. 

Your roaming mind had Seonghwa as the main character in your thoughts the entire night. After getting closer to each other last night, you had no idea how to behave normally in the morning. But you slowly made your way down the hallway, towards the living room, expecting to see Seonghwa on the couch. But when you peek your head out, afraid to wake him up in case he is still sleeping, you see an empty couch, blankets nicely folded and pillows perfectly lined up. 

Your brows come together in question at the sight, but you quickly notice what awaits you on the small table by the couch. You step closer to see a coffee and a small brown bag with a sticky note attached to it. 

Confusion speaks for itself when you grab the sticky note from the bag and look around the living room before reading.

Good morning! Hope you slept well! :) My boss called me.. Someone called in sick and  they needed one asap, so I had to step in.. Sorry to leave out of the blue, but I made a quick  run to the cafe on the corner and bought you some breakfast as a thank you for the help last night! 

Have a good day, angel

A smile creeps up on your lips as you read the note. Curiosity washes over you and you open the small brown bag, to find a bun and a chocolate muffin waiting for you. You look at the iced coffee, still cold with ice slowly melting, indicating he didn’t leave a long time ago. 

Once again, you feel a warmth in your body, and you slowly allow the caged butterflies to escape. 

***

New week, same school day, same seat. Nothing feels different when you sit in your classroom, on Monday morning, waiting for the day to start. You’ve gathered the things you need for the first class, writing some notes in your notebook when you feel a presence looking at you.

“Hi...” Your best friend says, looking guilty. 

You haven’t spoken to her since she left you at the party, and you would lie if you said you weren’t a little disappointed in her for ditching you the way she did.

You simply give her a cold smile and look back down at your notes. She knows you well, and you’re not furious with her - she knows that. It takes a lot for you to get actually angry at people, but she deserved the cold shoulder for a bit

“I’m so sorry for disappearing at the party,” She sits down on the chair next to you. “Really, that was so shitty of me.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I promise it won’t happen again.” Her whole body is turned towards you as you are silently giving her the side-eye, but as mad as you try to be, you can’t. You genuinely want to show her how disappointed you are, but if she hadn’t left you at the party, you wouldn’t have spoken to Seonghwa in the first place. Her crush. So not saying you’re happy she left you, but you definitely see the positive in this situation, which in this case happens to be a dark-haired boy with a busted lip. 

“Hm..” You respond, looking back in your notes. 

You feel her eyes on you for a moment, before she leans forward and whispers in your ear.

“Mingi and I really had fun though, he’s so sweet.” The smile is evident in her voice, and you finally turn your head to look at her.

“Well, I’m glad ditching me had its benefits.” Your words seem to finally get her to understand the situation, and she takes a moment to read your eyes and feel the disappointment.

“I’m sorry.. Really.” Her voice softens, filled with genuine guilt and you send her a broken smile.

“It’s fine.”

You both exchange warm looks before she unpacks and you both silently decide to move on.

“Did you have fun at the party, though? Did you talk to anyone?” She asks, back to normal like nothing happened. 

You freeze for a moment, deciding if you should lie or tell the truth. You still hadn’t decided if you should ever tell her that you had her crush staying over at your place and that he happened to be your knight in shining armor. You know she’s been crushing on a few guys from school, some more than others, but you also know that Seonghwa is one of her favorites. Multiple times, she has opened up about how bad she wants him and that he’s, quote on quote; “Made for her”. If you tell her the situation, you’re scared she’ll get mad at you for breaking the girl code. 

Your friend’s crush is off limits.

You know you haven’t done anything wrong, and nothing happened between you and Seonghwa, so you decide there's no need for her to know about anything.

“I talked to a few here and there.” Is all you say about the situation.

“How did you get home? Did you take a cab by yourself? I hope it wasn’t too expensive.” 

Once again, you take a moment to figure out what to answer, without saying her crush actually paid for the shared ride home to your apartment.

“I shared a cap with someone who was going the same way as me.” You respond, hoping she won’t ask further, but you quickly notice she’s barely listening.

“He’s so fucking hot...” She mumbles, and your eyes search for whoever her gaze is locked on, but you quickly realize when you see who enters the room. 

Seonghwa is walking into the classroom with his bag hanging on his shoulder and messy black wavy hair. He’s wearing a shaded blue denim jacket with a white tee underneath and black loose jeans. He looks so put together, even if he isn’t even trying, and for the first time since you started school, you’ve become one of those girls who stare at him when he enters the class. 

You expect him to sit at his usual seat on the other side of the room, but he confidently walks past it and towards your side. This catches your attention even more, leaving you and your best friend in awe as you see him walk closer to you. 

Seonghwa finds a seat a few seats in front of you, and as he swings the bag of his shoulder, his eyes meet yours. 

They’re warm and he locks his gaze on you while a smile creeps up on his lips. You can’t help but smile back like you’re both silently saying hello to each other through your eyes. This is the first time you’ve made eye contact with Seonghwa in class, and you can’t seem to look away while he smiles at you. 

But trying not to be too obvious, you force yourself to look away before he sits down, and your gaze goes to the notebook in front of you.

“Did you see that?” You hear your best friend say.

“What?”

“He smiled at me.” Your eyes shoot to her, confused to see her stare at Seonghwa who now sits down in his seat, back facing you. Not being able to open your mouth and tell her that he was actually smiling at you, you bite your words and start scribbling on your notebook.

“Oh.. I didn’t see.”

“Did you hear he got into a fight at the party?” She leans towards you, ready to start gossiping. 

A fight. The party. Daniel.

In panic, you shake your head and pretend you didn’t witness it, front row.

“Shit, I hoped you had seen it so you could tell me the details. But people say it was about a girl.” 

“What?”

People? Are people talking? About you? And Seonghwa?

“I know, that’s what I said. A girl was with him when it happened but they apparently left right after. They don’t know who she is, probably just someone’s plus one.” She shrugs and starts scribbling something in her own notebook.

You feel horrible knowing the exact situation, and not being able to tell your best friend the details. But one of the reasons you also hated these parties was the drama. The newest gossip after a spicy weekend. People always had something to say, and you didn’t want to be the next hot topic.

“What about you and Mingi, though? You’re gonna start seeing him?” You look at her, trying to change the subject. It seems to work because your best friend just shrugs as she looks unbothered by the whole situation. 

“Nah, you know how I am. I’m not looking for anything serious, I like to have my options open.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, and Seonghwa's words replay in your mind. 

Maybe, you find someone interesting, take them to an empty room, and you fuck each other. Then you walk out of there and don’t talk until the next party, where you fuck again. These people want to feel love, but they don’t actually want it.

It leaves another taste in your mouth when you know how Seonghwa has opened up to you about how he feels, about going to these parties. 

But I also started to feel used. Like I wasn’t more than a good fuck to them.

You had a certain respect for your best friend for doing whatever she wanted, but you also found Seonghwa’s feelings valid. There had to be a downside to the popularity and girls wanting to sleep with you without attachments. 

Your thoughts about Saturday's events are slowly replaced when class starts, and the focus is on the teacher in front of the whiteboard. Class goes by rather quickly, and students then leave the classroom to go to the next one. Having to exchange the books for the new class, you make your way to your locker, after agreeing to meet your best friend at the classroom.

You’re in your own world when a tall frame suddenly stands beside you. 

“Hey.” Seonghwa’s warm voice slightly surprises you. This is the first time you’ve spoken in school, and somehow, it almost feels illegal.

“Oh... Hi.”

“I just wanted to apologize for disappearing yesterday without saying goodbye. I just didn’t want to wake you up.” You can see the clear guilt in his eyes, and you immediately shake your head as you grab the new books from your locker. 

“Don’t worry about it, It’s totally fine. I appreciated the breakfast though.” 

He somehow seems taller today, looking down at you. His sharp features look as perfect as they did on Saturday, his eyes looking like the entire universe could fit into them. 

“Yeah, I thought I had to thank you in some way for letting me stay the night. And for taking care of my lip.” 

You notice the dark mark on his lip as he talks, the wound already healing. 

“I think my frozen peas did most of the work, but you’re welcome. Does it hurt?” You still can’t help but feel a little guilty for him getting punched in the face, but you’re glad to see it heal this fast.

“No, it’s only a bit bruised, but I’ll be as good as new in a few days. Will I see you at the party on Friday?” He relaxes with his hands in his pockets as he leans up against the lockers.

You realize again how he has this typical popular-boy-charm. He looks cool and could make anyone believe he could have the world in his hands if he wanted to. 

“Uhm.. I don’t usually party multiple weekends in a row.”

“I know, that’s why I’m asking.”

He’s quick with his words, and he doesn’t hide the smirk on his bruised lip as he smiles at you. You take a moment to think.

“I have to work, so I can’t.” You excuse, while actually telling the truth. 

“Oh, where do you work?” A small wrinkle forms between his brows.

“At the mall, I have a closing shift... But I hope you’ll have fun at the party though. As much as I appreciate you keeping me company last Saturday, I think it’s good you get to spend time with your friends instead of taking care of me, who apparently doesn’t know how to take care of myself.” You laugh at yourself, trying to make light of the situation, and before Seonghwa can answer, someone snatches his attention. 

“Hwa!” Seonghwa’s friend group all stare at the two of you talking, some of them indicating him to come as they are headed to class. 

“l have to go.. I’ll see you around?” He slowly backs away and doesn’t turn around until you nod and he sends a smile in your direction, as he runs after his friends.

***

Another sigh leaves you as you look away from the words written in your book. You don't know how long your eyes have been going over the same sentence, trying to get the words to stick to your brain, but it’s simply impossible at this point. 

Your eyes travel around the library from your seat, looking at the multiple other students here to expand their knowledge. The old books decorating the walls around you help with concentration, almost as if you feel bad for not studying while they’re watching. 

You take off your headphones, needing a break from studying when a conversation from the other side of the shelf steals your focus. 

“Girl, come on. Are you really surprised at this point? Have you seen him?.” A female voice says. 

“Right, I hooked up with him once and I swear I couldn’t walk normally for days.” Another voice says. 

The typical drama flooding around wasn’t new, especially not in the library. People seem to think it's the perfect place to sit in silence and gossip, clearly not aware that everyone else hears the conversation as well. You weren’t in the mood to hear someone talk like this about someone else, and you had been studying for a few hours already. Deciding this is your cue to leave, you start to pack your things while the gossiping continues on the other side. 

“Am I right? Who would’ve thought that nice personality held back a demon in Seonghwa.“

You immediately freeze when you hear Seonghwa’s name in the conversation. Were they talking about him?

“For real! Without a doubt the best guy I've been with. I mean have you seen his hands?” 

Your thoughts immediately go to the thought of Seonghwa’s hands, how his hand covered yours when holding the bag of peas on his lip. How big they were, slender fingers making everything he does look so elegant.

Feeling a weird sensation in your stomach from this information, you decide to speed up and get out of the library before you hear another word. 

The heat in your cheeks turns into a light shade of pink as you step outside, deciding to make your way home. In need of fresh air, you let your legs guide you toward your apartment complex.

Overhearing those girls’ conversation about Seonghwa left you with thoughts you didn’t know existed in your mind. Seonghwa had been nothing but nice to you since the party, and of course, you agreed that he was beyond handsome. But after hearing what they had to say about him, only enhanced the number of thoughts about him.

I hooked up with him once and I swear I couldn’t walk normally for days.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you decide to walk the rest of the way home, in desperate need of fresh air.

***

You didn’t think a week could go this slow. School was as boring as ever, and every day looked the same. Except, the new ‘same’ was that Seongwha and you had small interactions during the week. A smile here and there, a wave when seeing each other, and small talk by the lockers. 

You had a feeling that Seonghwa knew you didn’t want your best friend to ask you about your growing friendship with him, so he only came to talk whenever you were alone. It wasn’t that you were trying to hide the fact that you and Seonghwa were slowly becoming friends, but you knew she would question you if she knew. She would ask questions about every single thing about him, all in hopes that you would help her hook up with him, and you simply weren't interested in that.

Seonghwa was becoming a friend of yours, a friendship you never expected to happen, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. 

But that doesn't mean your mind hasn’t drifted to the conversation you overheard in the library. 

When talking to Seonghwa, you’ve caught yourself looking awfully much at his hands. Or when he was sitting in class, you’d admire him a little more than you’d like to admit. 

You didn’t think it meant anything, but you definitely didn’t plan on sharing those thoughts with anyone either.

It’s finally Friday, and you’re closing off at your closing shift. The mall closed at eight, but you had to make sure everything was ready for the morning shift, so you walked out around 8:30. Not having anything to do after work, you took your sweet time finishing up. Your fingers tapped your phone screen, trying to find the perfect song in your headphones as you made your way out of the mall and towards the bus stop. The chilly late summer night air hit you as you stepped outside, finally finding a song you’re satisfied with. 

You look up but immediately stop in your tracks. 

On a bench, outside the mall in front of the parking lot, Seonghwa is sitting by himself, fiddling with his fingers. There’s not a single person in sight, making Seonghwa stand out. Your brows shoot together in confusion as you watch him. He’s in his own world and you slowly make your way towards him. 

The sound of your feet against the concrete makes his head shoot up and his gaze direct at you. A smile tugs on his lips, and he lifts his hand to send you a wave.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, stopping a few meters away from him.

“I’m waiting for you to get off work.” He stands up from the bench before taking a few steps towards you.

You notice how the scrape on his lip is practically gone already.

“I thought you were going to the party.”

“I was. Was there for 10 minutes, realized it was boring as hell, drove home, and waited for the mall to close so I could pick you up.” He makes it sound like it was the most normal thing for him to do.

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Seonghwa sends you a smile and starts walking towards his black car, parked only a few meters away. “Come on, just accept my offer and let me give you a ride home, it’s late and it’s dark,” He opens the door to the passenger seat and looks at you, frozen in your place. “I won’t bite, I promise.”

You eventually get in his car, and he’s quick to get in the driver’s seat. You immediately notice the car is neat, and clean and smells like Seonghwa. He turns on the car and starts driving towards the parking lot exit.

“Have you eaten?” He asks, eyes still on the road.

“I had a snack.”

“A snack? Come on, a snack won’t do it.” He drives onto the main road, in the direction of your apartment.

“I’ll eat when I get home.” You roll your eyes at him teasingly.

“I know a good place, I hope you’re up for trying for the best milkshake in your life.” He makes a u-turn and you’re suddenly headed towards an unknown location. 

“Seonghwa.” You look at him, a hint of seriousness in your voice. It isn’t that you have anything better to do, but you aren’t mentally prepared to hang out with him. You don’t feel like you look your best, and you don’t want to steal his time.

“What?” He flickers his gaze from you to the road. His boba-looking black eyes meet yours for a second before looking straight ahead, and when you quickly notice the glimpse in them, it’s like you can’t say no to him. He looks so full of excitement, that you swallow your words and send him a smile.

“Nothing.”

Seonghwa drove you both to a diner, a little outside of town. You’ve never been here before, but the neon sign and the old-school 60’s aesthetic left an evident impression on you. Seonghwa opens the door for you, and you’re immediately hit with the feeling that you just stepped into the movie 'Grease'. 

You’re met with black and white checkered floor, red booths, and a jukebox in the corner. Seonghwa’s excitement is through the roof as he guides you towards one of the booths further down the diner, with his hand on the small of your back.

You try your best not to pay too much attention to how his touch makes you feel, and quickly focus on something else. You sit down across from each other, the two of you being the only ones there, except the elderly gentleman in the corner, reading a paper. 

You’re reading the menu when a waitress comes over, and you immediately notice the way she looks at Seonghwa.

“Hi, welcome.” Her flirtatious voice speaks. She has bright red lips, a dress that covers just the top of her thigh, and an apron tied around her waist, making her curves more visible. 

“Hi.” Seonghwa smiles, taking his focus from the menu to the waitress.

“What can I get for you?” 

“Can I have the medium cheeseburger menu, please?” Seonghwa asks as he points to the menu. 

“Of course.” She responds as she writes down his order on her notepad. You wait until it’s your turn to order, but as silence surrounds you and you notice how she’s just staring at you, you come to your senses. 

“Uhm.. I’ll just have the small fry menu, thank you.” 

She writes down your order in silence, and you feel awkward, sitting across Seonghwa as this waitress barely notices you.

“Would you like,” The waitress looks Seonghwa up and down. “Anything else?”

A part of you wants to laugh at the scene playing in front of your eyes, watching Seonghwa and this waitress flirt with each other. Seonghwa scans the menu card like he doesn’t know it front to back.

“Do you still have the chocolate milkshake with the drizzle and strawberries on top?” He asks, looking up at the waitress.

“No, we don’t actually..” She shakes her head for a second but takes a short moment to think before speaking up again. “Not officially, at least, but I can make it for you anyway? It’ll be our secret.” She bites her bottom lip and for some reason, you have to fight everything in you not to roll your eyes and scoff. 

“Really? That would be amazing.” Seonghwa responds, handing her your menus.

“Anytime.. Let me know if I can help you with anything else. Can I ask what your name is?”

“I’m Seonghwa.”

“I’ll be right back with your milkshake, Seonghwa.” She sends her last smile before disappearing into the kitchen. Seonghwa looks at you satisfied, not realizing how his conversation looked to everyone but him and the waitress.

“I see why you like coming here.” You say.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” You mumble and look away, out the window. There’s a huge neon sign with the diner’s logo on the parking lot, shining through the windows. The low music from the jukebox is playing 60’s instrumentals, making sure to give the customers the full diner experience. 

“Because she flirted with me?” You look at him to see his smirk. He’s staring intensely at you, slightly enjoying seeing the way you try to avoid his eyes. You respond with a nod and a “mhm.”

“Did I flirt back?” He asks, squinting his eyes at you. There’s a small hint of jealousy in your stomach as you talk about this, him talking with this girl who’s obviously very into him, but you obviously don’t let that side of you out. 

“I don’t know how you are when you flirt.” You shrug. 

“Are you sure?” lifting an eyebrow at you. You want to say yes, but the way he’s looking at you, makes you doubt everything you know. Your silence is enough of an answer for Seonghwa, and he rolls his eyes. “To answer my own question; no, I didn’t flirt with her. I’m surprised you couldn’t tell.” 

“I haven’t known you for long, how should I know?” You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous this conversation seems.

“You don’t have to know me for long to know.” His words shut you up, and you stare at him, sitting confidently on the other side of the booth. The way he’s in some blatantly obvious way flirting with you, somehow makes you doubt everything. It’s like you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he’s so forward with his words. You don’t get to say more before the waitress comes back and places a chocolate milkshake on the table. 

“Here’s your milkshake, Seonghwa. Your food will be ready in 10 minutes, let me know if I can do anything else for you.” She sends him a warm smile again, not once acknowledging your presence. 

“Thank you,” He smiles back at her when she walks away, and immediately leans over the table to lower his voice as he speaks. “I didn’t even know she worked here. I’m usually assisted by my friend Barbara, running on her 68th year. The reason why I like coming here is because of this heavenly milkshake I just ordered for us. They only have it once in a while, but if you’re with me, you can get it all the time.” He leans back in the booth, looking more confident than ever.

“Must be nice having pretty privilege when it comes to milkshakes.” You tease, and he looks up at you, trying to hide his laugh.

“I don’t know what I think about your cocky attitude when I’m taking you out to dinner and picking you up from work.”

“I didn’t ask you to do either of those things.”

“No, you didn’t. And yet you still claim you don’t know how I flirt,” He pushes the milkshake closer to you, as you stare at him, not knowing how to react to his words. “Here, try it. Try it and tell me it’s not the best thing you’ve ever tasted on your tongue.”

You squint your eyes at him, before dragging the chocolate milkshake closer to you. It’s tall, has the perfect color of a chocolate milkshake, has a mix of different drizzles, and has three bright red strawberries decorated on top. You lean forward to take a sip from the straw, and an overwhelming flavor bursts in your mouth.

“Oh, it’s good.” You admit.

“I know, right? All thanks to my pretty privilege.”

You and Seonghwa spend more time at the diner than you thought you would, talking about everything and nothing. During the hours across from each other in the red booth, you ended up realizing that this was the best way you could spend the night.

You were now in the car on the way home, and summer rain had started pouring against the windows. Pools of water decorate the streets, mirroring the light from the street lamps.

“So,” You start, looking at Seonghwa from the passenger seat. “You’re giving parties a new chance tomorrow?” You’re not searching for a specific answer, but after he opened up to you last weekend, you’re curious about him going to the parties.

“I’m not sure. The guys and I are talking about having a small get-together, just the few of us. You should come, bring your friend too.” He says, looking relaxed as he drives you home. 

“I don’t know.. These social things still intimidate me.” You don’t see yourself going to any of these parties for a while. 

“It’s more lowkey than the parties, I swear.” He sends you a smile and hands you his phone from the center console. “Put your number in my phone, I’ll text you the details if you decide to come.” 

You slowly grab his phone from his hand, surprised by how relaxed he seems. It’s already unlocked, and you’re about to make a new contact when his phone suddenly rings. The caller ID is a girl's name, and you freeze, not knowing what to do.

“Oh.. Someone’s calling.” You say, showing Seonghwa the screen.

“Just press ignore.” He answers quickly.

“Are you sure?”

He nods as he keeps his focus on the road, driving through the puddles on the road. You continue where you left off, adding your number, but the girl’s name appears on the screen again as another call goes in. 

The fact that a girl is calling him, shortly throws you off. It’s probably not new for him to have girls hit him up constantly, but it makes you feel awkward.

Seonghwa notices how you freeze with the phone in your hands. The car stops at a red light, and you hand him the phone while it’s still calling. You try not to snoop too much, but you can’t help but watch from the side of your eye, what he does. He ignores the call again, goes to the girl’s contact, and blocks the number, before handing you the phone again. 

“There.” He says.

You finish adding your number to his contacts, saving it under your name, just as another call goes in. This time from Wooyoung, as the screen reads.

“Now Wooyoung is calling.” You show Seonghwa the screen and he makes an annoyed sound.

“You gotta be kidding me..” He gently grabs the phone from your hand, answers the call, and puts it on speaker before placing the phone on the center console. “What?” He asks into the phone.

“Where the fuck are you?” Wooyoung’s voice almost sounds panicked.

“I left.”

“What? Bro, you need to come back. ‘You know who’ keeps asking for you and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.” Wooyoung explains, but Seonghwa’s face doesn’t show a care in the world, as the light turns green.

“Not my problem, I’m not coming back.”

“Why? Where are you?” Wooyoung’s question hangs in the air for a moment before Seonghwa sighs deeply.

“At your mom's, see you tomorrow.”

“WHAT DO YOU-” Wooyoung’s voice is cut short when Seonghwa ends the call. The childish behavior they seem to have makes you hold back a laugh. You haven’t spoken to Wooyoung before, only knowing him as one of the popular guys, but what you’ve gathered about him so far, really sums up a chaotic personality.

“And that’s how you deal with that. Did you put your number in?” Seonghwa asks, glancing at you as he holds out his phone with a smile. It's dark outside, but his teeth still shine so brightly when he’s smiling. His entire face lights up when he smiles, making the darkness brighter.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” 

The drive home is quick from that point on, and Seonghwa offers to follow you to the door but to save him from getting drenched, you convince him not to. You’re quick to run inside to hide yourself from the rain, managing to get inside without getting soaked. 

In your own world, you get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, and you’re exhausted from school, work, and late dinner with Seonghwa.

You get under your covers, ready to lay with your phone for a while before actually getting some sleep when your lips curl into a smile from a received text.  

Unknown Goodnight, Angel

It takes you no time to figure out who sent the message, and you reply as the butterflies slowly spread throughout your body.

You Goodnight, Hwa

***

You have no idea what you’re doing. You promised yourself a relaxed weekend, without any parties or anything close to it, and you kept that promise for the most part! You had initially texted Seonghwa that you wouldn’t come to the get-together, but thanked him for inviting you.

Partially because telling your friend that Seonghwa invited you, would indicate you and Seonghwa had contact, and you weren’t ready for that conversation with your best friend yet. But you didn’t expect your best friend to hit you up Saturday evening, inviting you to a small get-together at Mingi’s place. 

After she sent you the information, you immediately realized it was the same information Seonghwa had given you. This changed something, the fear of missing out suddenly hit you. Therefore, at the last second, you decided to accept your best friend's offer and join her at Mingi’s, but promising yourself not to drink too much. 

“Come on in!” Mingi says as he opens the door further. When stepping through the front door, you hear music and voices from further into the apartment. Mingi’s apartment is bigger than you thought, as you expected a small dorm, but are instead met with a rather big apartment. The decor is very minimal, the most he’s done is plastering a few posters up here and there. You feel a flip in your stomach at the thought of seeing Seonghwa in a few seconds but you quickly push the thought away when your best friend grabs your arm and drags you into the living room.

You’re met with four guys sitting in the living room, and your eyes immediately notice Seonghwa. He’s leaning back on the couch, a slight tug on his lips from listening to the conversation before him, and in a black hoodie with baggy jeans.

His eyes travel to you, a flash of something apparent in them for a second and slight confusion written on his face. The confusion is quickly replaced by a smile spreading on his lips, probably still a little confused by seeing you since you texted him you weren’t coming. 

You feel his eyes on you as you look around to see the other guys, San sharing the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung sitting by Seonghwa’s legs on the floor. Mingi sits down on the floor as well, inviting you and your best friend to get comfortable too.

“Do you guys wanna sit on the couch?” San asks, about to get up, but your best friend quickly speaks up.

“No, that’s fine!” She sits down next to Mingi (shocking, you think), and you join her on the other side of on floor. You knew she and Mingi hooked up last weekend.

And you couldn’t help but hope she would leave her attention on him and forget about Seonghwa for the night.

You try not to make it too obvious how bad your eyes want to go to Seonghwa, but you eventually succumb and look at him, surprised to see him with his gaze already locked on you. 

You haven’t heard him say a word yet, yet you know everything his gaze is saying.

You came anyways? 

You shrug with a smile, and look away, trying not to make the heat in your cheeks too apparent. 

Alcohol is gathered in the middle of the circle, San opens a six-pack of beers before handing a can to Seonghwa, but Wooyoung is quick to snatch it.

“Seonghwa is not drinking tonight, he’s being a bore.” He says, cracking open the beer before taking a sip. He almost spills as Seonghwa kicks him in the back, wiping the beer away from his chin.

“If I wasn’t a bore, you wouldn’t be sipping on those beers. I had to drive to a place 25 minutes away because you forgot to buy some.” Seonghwa shakes his head, slightly annoyed with the younger.

“You’re right, thanks mommy.” Wooyoung sends Seonghwa a loving smile, but Seongwha only responds by rolling his eyes. 

The decision you’ve made not to get too drunk seems like a good idea as the night escalates and more beers are opened. The volume in the group gets louder as more alcohol is consumed and laughs are shared over silly topics. This all eventually ended with the group deciding to play various drinking games, which you silently participated in. 

It was obvious that you were the newest addition to the group, not knowing them all very well. And that really showed when they decided to play ‘who’s most likely to’. An explicit version, at that.

“Who’s most likely to sleep with a teacher?” Mingi asks, looking around at everyone before starting the countdown. “3..2..1..”

There's silence as everyone, besides you, points around, and everyone points at San. The man looks down looking embarrassed, even pointing at himself.

“She was 27 at the time. Only 6 years older than me, it isn’t that big of a deal.” San explains before taking a sip of his beer.

“She was still a teacher.” Wooyoung comments.

“Substitute. The key word is substitute.” San eyes Wooyoung who only starts a small discussion about the situation, leaving you to observe the two. A smile creeps up on your lips at the conversation before you, but you can't help but look at the person directly across from you, meeting Seonghwa’s eyes again. 

Looking at him was like excluding the rest of the world for a moment. His lips curled into a subtle smile, only keeping his focus on you and ignoring the bickering from his two friends. Hoping no one notices the way you look at each other, you look away, taking a sip from your first beer. 

The game eventually moves on, San having to pick the next ‘most likely to’.

“Who’s most likely to be the best fuck?” He asks, a smile creeping up on his lips as he gets ready to count down. “3..2..1..” 

The majority of fingers point at Seonghwa, him sitting relaxed on the couch, only watching the game unfold. There’s a short silence around the group before Wooyoung speaks up.

“There’s a reason why at least 5 girls flirt with him at every party. They all want a piece of that Seongwhanger.” 

“Don’t ever call it that.” Seonghwa snaps, looking at his friend by his legs.

“Am I wrong though?” Wooyoung laughs.

You only watch as the others add to the conversation while you drift into your own thoughts. You’re reminded of the conversation you overheard in the library, those girls talking about their encounters with Seonghwa in the.. bedroom.

Having Seonghwa’s best friends knowing about his abilities when it comes to sex, as well as those random girls, would mean it must be a thing people knew. Somehow, you had just missed that information. 

“I’m intrigued.. Why do you guys think Seonghwa is most likely?” Your best friend asks, looking around at the guys. 

“If you knew the screams I’ve heard from the girls he’s fucked. That alone tells me everything I need to know.” Wooyoung answered.

You suddenly enter a topic you had not prepared yourself for, and that results in you feeling restless. The thought of Seonghwa fucking hard, has your mind playing a dangerous game with you. You don’t know where to look, where to keep your hands, how to breathe. 

Whenever your eyes landed on Seonghwa, all you saw was him. 

Naked. On top of you.

“I spoke to a girl he fucked once. She told me she saw heaven and hell at the same time.” San adds.

“Guys..” Seonghwa tries to stop the conversation, or at least make it less explicit, but the others don't seem to follow along. 

“Come on, Hwa. It isn’t something to be embarrassed about, own it!” Wooyoung hits Seonghwa’s leg in an accepting manner.

“I am, but in respect for the girls... Let’s not.”

Wooyoung clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. “You know how they brag about it, they want to be talked about after. They all wanna be a part of the Seongweenie club”

“Stop!” Seonghwa’s eyes grow big at Wooyoung’s constant name-calling.

Your best friend laughs next to you, enjoying this conversation more than anyone else. You try to look at Seonghwa again, but when his eyes meet yours, you instantly look away. It’s like you can’t look at him and not have your thoughts stray to less innocent territories. You finish your beer, feeling slightly grateful for the way it leaves you feeling.

“You guys are embarrassing, why do you know these things about each other?” Your best friend asks as her laugh dies down, curious about this conversation. San looks at her, scooting away from Seonghwa on the couch so he can speak at a lower volume like Seonghwa wouldn’t hear him.

“Because at this point, it’s common knowledge. I don’t want it to sound weird, but I’ve heard a lot from the girls he's been with. The things this man does,” San points over his shoulder at Seonghwa. “Don’t let his nice persona fool you guys.”

“The thing is, Seonghwa is just way too humble about it.” Mingi adds, shrugging. 

Your eyes quickly travel to Seonghwa, looking defeated, before Wooyoung steals your focus as he stands up. 

“I’m just surprised you’re not bragging about it more. If I were you, I would be telling everyone about my Shlonghwa.” 

Wooyoung barely finishes his sentence before Seonghwa runs after Wooyoung out of the living room and they disappear in the hallway. All you hear is Wooyoung's muffled laugh, as you hear him run, and you finally take a moment to breathe, now that Seonghwa isn’t in your eyesight. 

Another topic is suddenly going on amongst the rest of you, but you can’t seem to move on from the information you just got. 

She told me she saw heaven and hell at the same time.

Your brain keeps going over and over the words from Seonghwa’s friends. You didn’t expect to ever hear these things about him, and it honestly shocks you a bit. You knew he was popular amongst the girls, but you thought it came from how nice he was (as well as incredibly handsome). But now, knowing many of them want to sleep with him because, like Wooyoung said, “they brag about it, they want to be talked about after”, only adds to your thoughts. 

The conversation you shared with Seonghwa after the last party, suddenly made even more sense to you. Even Seonghwa’s friends knew how many girls were wondering how it would be to sleep with him. 

And so you feel an incredible guilt for wondering the same.

How his hands would run down your body, lips tracing kisses all over you as he has his way with you.

“I’ll be right back.” Your best friend wakes you from your thoughts before she disappears into the hallway. Wanting to remove the thoughts about Seonghwa from your brain, you try to focus on the conversation between San and Mingi, but it doesn’t help at all. 

Shaking the empty can of beer, you are in desperate need of something to help with your dry mouth. You excuse yourself as you stand up, decide to get some water instead of beer, and make your way to the kitchen. 

You manage to find the kitchen without any help, but your body immediately backtracks when you see who’s in there, and you hide behind the wall before they see you. Your best friend is laughing as she jokingly hits Seonghwa on the chest. His smile grows on his face before continuing whatever conversation they were having. 

Not wanting to snoop or hear your best friend flirt with Seonghwa, you quickly make your way back to the living room. Your hands reach for another beer, and you take a huge sip of it to quench your thirst and with a small mission to forget what you just saw in the kitchen. 

You didn’t like Seonghwa. Of course not, right? He was just becoming a good friend, and your best friend has been crushing on Seonghwa for almost a year. If she managed to finally get him, that would be great! You’d be happy for her. 

On the outside.

But on the inside, you’d be less excited. 

You hate admitting it, but Seonghwa has been running in your mind 24/7 ever since the party. You finally understood why your best friend was into him. Why every girl was into him. You’d be blind if you didn’t see how perfect he was, how kind, thoughtful, and funny he is. And that’s just Seonghwa. That is how he is. And he’s much more than that.

Needing a moment for yourself, you manage to find the bathroom to breathe. This get-together was turning into something you didn’t expect. How can you feel so many emotions all at once? Seonghwa was already living in your mind rent-free, and now that his friends suddenly exposed how his intimate side is, you have no space in your brain left. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you’re immediately reminded of San’s words.

The things this man does... don’t let his nice persona fool you guys.

Your mind once again goes to forbidden places. How he looked that night of the party. How his messy hair would be even messier after you would run your fingers through it. How it would fall down in his face while he’s being on top of you. Sweat starting to form on his forehead. His deep voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Skin against skin as he fastens the speed.

Cursing at yourself at the thoughts, you decide being alone isn’t helping. At this point, Seonghwa is tattooed in your mind and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You open the door and step into the hallway, when you’re suddenly standing in front of the man in your mind.

“Hey, angel.” Seonghwa stops in his tracks, sharing his first words with you for the night. 

“Hi.” You nearly whisper. 

Your focus is turned to Wooyoung, who has to pass the two of you in the hallway, and you notice the way Seonghwa sends him a glare. Wooyoung laughs as he quickly sprints past Seonghwa, afraid that Seonghwa will reach out for him. He disappears into the living room, leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the hallway.

“He’s annoying, you’ll get used to it.” Seonghwa’s eyes meet yours again. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” 

Trying not to focus too much on the thoughts in your brain, involving Seonghwa in a less innocent setting, you do your best to act normal.

“I guess FOMO got the best of me.” You shrug, starting to play with the sleeves of your shirt.

“I’m glad you came,” His eyes curl as he sends you a smile, and your mouth starts to dry again. You shift your gaze away from him, not being able to look him in the eyes for too long. “You want a ride home later?”

Your eyes flicker for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

“Oh, uhm.. I don’t know, I have to talk to my friend and ask her if we’re sharing a cap.”

“You’re not. She’s staying here.” He responds rather quickly, leaving you slightly confused.

“How do you know?”

“The way Mingi is looking at her... I know.” He can’t seem to hide the smirk on his lips. He seems confident as he rests his hands in the pockets of his loose jeans, but you’re not convinced.

“But maybe she would like to stay with you tonight?” Your words make his brows shoot together. “She’s been talking about you for a long time, you know.” You look away from him again, eyes focused on your fingers playing with the ends of your sleeves.

“Still trying to wingman me with your friend?” You can hear the smirk on his lips.

“She likes you.” Is the only thing you say, leaving a silence between you and Seonghwa. He scoffs shortly, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he smirks.

“I’ll drive you home later.” He says.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. At this point, just accept it.” He sends you a smile before making his way back into the living room. Like a duckling to its mother, you follow behind him, him leading the way. The rest of the group is already back in the circle, and you quietly sit down while Seonghwa takes his seat back on the couch, making sure to whack Wooyoung on the back of the head first. 

The rest of the night, you’re quietly sipping on your second beer, not wanting alcohol to get too involved in the way you’re thinking. The rest of the group decided to continue various games and explicit conversation topics, thankfully leaving Seonghwa’s name out of most of them. 

You notice his gaze on you multiple times, but you immediately avert your eyes, not being able to look into his piercing ones. A part of you couldn’t wait to get home, but the fact that Seonghwa had insisted on driving you home, made your heart pound faster against your chest. The thought of being alone with him seemed dangerous, afraid you’d do something you would regret.

The get-together eventually came to an end, and just like Seonghwa had predicted, your best friend decided to stay at Mingi’s place. 

The door to the driver's seat closed, and Seonghwa put on his seatbelt before turning on the car.

“Ready?” He asks, looking at you.

“Mhm..” You nod, looking at your hands resting in your lap. Seonghwa keeps his gaze on you for a moment, trying his best to read you to the best of his abilities. 

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. Something going on in that pretty head of yours?” His words make your stomach flip, but you push the feeling away as quickly as you can.

“No.. Just tired, I guess.” You try sending him a smile, thankful for the dimmed light surrounding you, making it harder to see his handsome features.

Seonghwa tries to ignore the feeling he gets when he can tell that you are obviously lying to him. He turns on the car and drives off to your apartment complex. The quiet music plays in the background, making the silence between you less noticeable.

Your eyes follow the trees and street lamps as you drive by, intentionally keeping your gaze in the other direction from Seonghwa. A small tapping sound following the music catches your attention, and you look down at the gearshift to see Seonghwa’s fingers around the shift. Their tapping follows the beat of the song on the radio, momentarily hypnotizing you. 

The car stops at a red light, and you find yourself not being able to take your eyes off his hands. You realize how pretty his hands are, even in the dimmed light. He’s wearing a silver ring around one of his long slender fingers, the veins in his hands more evident as he taps along to the song. They curl prettily around the gearshift, having your mind wander to places they shouldn’t.

What you don’t notice is Seonghwa’s focus on you. A smirk creeps up on his lips when he realizes how his fingers have you in a trance, wondering what suddenly made you so focused on his hands. 

As you catch yourself in the trance, you look away from his figers and out the window on your side. 

You’re too deep in your own thoughts to notice Seonghwa lean closer to you and reach out his arm at you. A sudden grip on your chin forces you to look at him, and you see him smirk with the red light from the stoplight decorating his face.

“What?” You ask to the best ability, still with his hand holding your face. He takes a moment to study your face, not saying a single word. A tiny crease forms in the middle of your forehead, waiting for him to say something. His smile only widens a bit, not letting you know what he’s thinking.

“Angel face..” He says softly as the light turns green and he lets go of your face before taking off. 

The rest of the way to your apartment is silent, except for the radio music and Seonghwa’s fingers tapping along. You finally see your apartment complex, and Seonghwa parks his car in the parking lot. Today, he follows you out of the car and towards your building. You’re a few steps ahead, not knowing what to say without accidentally saying something stupid. 

Your mind is playing games with you, but you decide not to let this awkwardness control you anymore. What would be appropriate to talk about after the information you’ve gotten about him today? Do you even need to talk about it? You’re friends, so it wouldn’t be weird to ask him to stay over again, would it?

You take a few steps up to the main entrance, holding onto the railing, when you finally open your mouth.

“Seonghwa?” You turn around on the stairs, looking at him a few steps under you. Seonghwa’s big eyes look up at you, looking innocent and pure.

“What's up?”

You lose all of your bravery and immediately decide to abort the mission. 

“Nothing,” You say, quickly moving on. “Thank you for driving me home. Goodnight.” You turn around again, about to head up the stairs to the entrance to your building when Seonghwa’s voice makes you halt.

“Wait.. Is everything good?” There’s a concern evident in his voice, and you send him a smile as you look down at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He takes a moment to look at you a few steps up on the staircase, before taking a deep breath.

“Are we gonna address the situation or are you just gonna stay silent?” 

His words hit you like the fall from a roller coaster, making your stomach turn.

“Situation?” You ask. 

“How your behavior changed when we reached a certain conversation topic tonight?” 

You can’t read the tone in his voice, and his blank face doesn’t help either. You knew you had been exceptionally silent tonight, but you didn’t think he would notice. Suddenly, nervous that you’ve done something to make him mad, you feel your heart pound faster.

“What topic?” You ask nervously.

“How I fuck.”

You blink a few times, not expecting those words to escape his mouth. Mouth dry, heart pounding, and sweaty hands all have you quickly looking away from him, averting his gaze.

“There it is.. That look in your eye..” Seonghwa studies your face silently, taking two steps closer to you on the stairs. “You wanna know what that look tells me?” His voice drops an octave, and your stomach does another flip. 

He’s killing you.

“Mhm..” You gulp as you nod, too overwhelmed to use actual words, blushing like crazy.

“It tells me you aren’t as innocent as you may seem.” He takes another step up the stairs, now only two steps separating you. “That those big eyes are pretty good at hiding what goes on in your mind, but sometimes it slips out, and they expose your thoughts without you saying a word..” He takes the last step closer to you. Now, he’s the one looking down at you, and you freeze like a prey trapped by the lion. His scent is hugging around you, making you feel dizzy. His eyes study you carefully, knowing he has you figured out. He scoffs confidently. “Tell me.. and be honest with me..” He leans forward, making it impossible to look away from him. “Are you wondering how it would be if I fucked you?”

Nervous, scared to admit the thoughts you’ve had about him the entire night, your eyes flicker away from him. He leans back a bit, a smirk growing on his face as he knows he’s onto something.

“So that’s a yes,” He says, your heart skipping a beat. The fact that he can read you so well, without you having to say a single word, makes you even more tense. You wish he would end this suffering, and either let you go or press his lips against yours, but instead, he does something different. “I’m feeling generous tonight, so instead of letting you wonder any longer, I’ll just tell you what it’s like to be fucked by me,”

You finally find the courage to look into his eyes as he’s trapping you between him and the banister. The thought of what he’s about to tell you makes the heat between your legs unbearable. He takes a deep breath, letting you mentally prepare yourself before he speaks.

“I like to be in control. I like to have them under me or on all fours in front of me. I like wrapping my hand around their hair or around their throat, forcing them to look at me,” He moves his arm around you, and you feel a slight pull in your hair. Your breathing is ragged, trying to control yourself. “I also use my tongue to make them cum. Luckily I love to eat pussy, especially if it’s from a pretty girl. But the best is when their big, pretty eyes look up at me, begging to cum and I’ll get to control when they’re allowed to let go and feel the orgasm take over.” His voice is down to a whisper, and you can’t believe what is happening right now. You have to bite your lip not to scream for him to kiss you. A smile creeps up on his lips like he’s about to mock you. “But you’re an angel, right? A good girl. You wouldn’t let me do those things to you.”

“I would.” You instantly respond, whispering only for him to hear.

“Use your words, angel. What would you like me to do to you?” He lets go of the grip on your hair and instead removes some hair from your face in a caring manner. 

“Everything. Whatever you want.” You know you’re fully giving in to him, but you don’t care.

“Are you sure? I’m not sure you can handle it.” His thumb caresses your cheek.

“Try me,”

This changes something in Seonghwa’s eyes. His hand grabs the back of your head and his lips are on yours in a second. The feeling of his lips on you is like fireworks, and you can’t help but moan at the overwhelming sensation like you've been waiting for this forever. For the first time tonight, you finally feel like you can breathe. 

His tongue slips past your lips, and you surrender in his grasp. Seonghwa seems just as hungry for you and starts kissing along your jaw and down your neck. You instinctively throw your head back, granting him better access. He goes in like a vampire thirsty for blood, kissing your neck, probably leaving marks. He knows what he’s doing, he knows how to make someone feel good. That makes you impatient.

“Upstairs. Come with me upstairs?” You try your best to get your words out, and you feel him smiling against your neck.

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

You waste no time going inside, quickly pressing the doors for the elevator to arrive. You feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, and you have to fight everything in you not to jump on him immediately.

The elevator comes, Seonghwa guides you inside, and you press the button to your floor. Impatiently, you press the button multiple times, hoping that will make it go faster. 

The doors finally close, and not a split second goes by until Seonghwa has you pressed up against the wall of the elevator. His hands are on your body while kissing you down your neck and along your jaw. You want his lips on yours again, but when he starts sucking on the sweet spot on your neck, you feel your knees weaken. Fingers running through his black hair are everything you thought it would be. He continues moving his lips on your skin, leaving you thirsty for more. The elevator reaches your floor, and you quickly make your way to the apartment, Seonghwa trailing behind you. You find the keys to your apartment but fumble while trying to find the right one. While struggling, you feel Seonghwa stand close behind you, and it’s like the world is working against you.

“Patience, baby.” He grabs your waist and you feel his front against your back. A gasp at the feeling leaves between your lips, and he starts kissing your neck while you desperately try to unlock the door. 

After what feels like years of getting the door unlocked, you drag Seonghwa into your apartment, and just as you close the door, Seonghwa pushes you up against it. He grabs both of your hands and holds them above your head with one of his. 

“Am I terrible for wanting to drive you home, in hopes that this would happen?” He starts kissing your neck again, and you close your eyes at the way his tongue works on your skin.

“No.”

“Tell me, angel..” He moves further down and starts kissing your collarbones. “What was running through your mind tonight? And don’t lie to me.”

“I wondered.. what the others said.”

“What did they say?”

He makes it nearly impossible for you to speak as he continues kissing further down your chest. 

“Not to let your nice personality fool me... That you made someone.. see heaven and hell at the same time.” Your words have him standing up fully, letting go of the hold on your hands above your head and he’s back to look into your eyes.

“Baby.. I’ll drag the angel in you down to hell with me. Can I?” He moved some hair out of your face again, and you’re shocked with his way of changing style. He could be dragging his lips and tongue all over you one second, and making sure you look pretty the next.

“Uh huh..” You nod, and a smirk forms on his lips as he studies the features on your face.

“I’m gonna feel bad for ruining this angel face of yours,” His smirk grows into a smile. ”But you’re gonna look so perfect after.” His index finger runs down the side of your face, and you quickly start to feel yourself go crazy. Seonghwa’s lips hover just above yours, making you desperate.

“Kiss me.” Your words come out like a cry for help, not being able to long for his lips against yours anymore.

It’s like he’s enjoying seeing you fumble. He loves to hear you beg for his touch, his lips, him. 

He looks down at your parted lips and goes in. His soft lips press against yours, and instinctively, your body responds to him. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth, and you allow every move he makes. Hands cupping your face, yours decide to pull him closer. You need him as close as humanly possible.

Slowly, his hands travel down your body, testing the waters. Of course, he doesn’t want to do something you aren’t comfortable with, despite you verbally already telling him to do anything he wants with you. But little do you know. He has been thinking of this for a week straight, not being able to think of anything else but you under his touch. So trying not to rush this, wanting to enjoy every second, Seonghwa is taking his sweet time. 

The kiss deepens, and you feel his hands travel further downward until they rest on your ass. A light squeeze makes you pull him closer, and not wanting to waste any more time, his hands travel under your thighs to pull you up. You do a small jump before wrapping your legs around his waist, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. A small grunt escapes Seonghwa from your lips on his skin, as he makes his way to your bedroom with you wrapped around him. 

“Are you trying to drive me insane, angel?” He opens the door to your bedroom and you’re thrown on the bed a second later. Looking up at him from the mattress, you can’t wait for whatever is about to happen. The way he's looking at you, you know you’re in for something big.

Seonghwa crawls on top of you, leaving kisses all over your body on his way.

“You know how much I’ve been thinking about this?” His lips run over your chest as he unbuttons your shirt. “Last time I was in your apartment, after the party... You were looking at my lips like you were about to kiss me and I had to fight everything in me not to fuck you right then and there on the couch.” 

Your fingers run through his hair, reminded of the first night you spoke to Seonghwa.

“I’m a horrible friend.” You say, reminded by your best friend’s admiration for Seonghwa. You’re letting a moan escape your lips when he kisses your sweet spot, not wanting him to stop. His lips leave your skin and he hovers over you, his hands on each side of your head as he looks down at you. 

“Your best friend is fucking Mingi as we speak. Besides,” His lips softly press against yours in a gentle kiss. “I bet you’ve been thinking about me too, haven’t you, angel?” 

He had been the only thing in your head for a week, of course.

You nod, looking up at him. 

“Gosh, I wanna fuck you,” He smacks his lips against yours as his fingers open the rest of the buttons on your shirt. Shortly after, your bra is exposed, and a smile creeps up on Seonghwa’s lips. “So fucking beautiful.” 

He helps you out of your clothes, and suddenly you're fully exposed in front of him. Your cheeks redden as he looks all over your body, admiring every single curve of your skin. Quickly, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His other hand is busy massaging the other, and you feel every part of you starting to become sensitive to his touch. 

Seonghwa slowly makes his way down, kissing you all the way until his head is right above your heat. He starts teasing you, placing light kisses on your thighs, purposely avoiding your pussy.

“Seonghwa, please.” You can’t stand waiting anymore. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for longer than you could imagine. I’m taking my time, but I do enjoy hearing you beg.”

Before you get to say another word, Seonghwa dives in and directly starts licking you between your folds. He holds your legs open to get the best access, and you feel your eyes roll back in pleasure. His tongue finds your hole and goes slightly in, making your hands grab the sheets.

“You taste so sweet, baby, like fucking dessert.” He says against your pussy, before slowly dragging his tongue up along your slit, enjoying seeing you squirm.

“Please Hwa,” You manage to say when he starts sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it, knowing that if he keeps doing exactly this, you’ll be coming in just a few seconds. "Your tongue.. It feels so good."

Seonghwa smirks at your words but seems to notice how close you already are and slows down.

“You couldn't even look me in the eyes earlier... Like after you knew how I fuck, you became afraid of me. Did you, angel?”

“No.”

“Then why did you look away?”

“Because-” Your words are cut short when he fastens the speed of his tongue again. “I got shy.” A loud moan escapes your lips when your legs start to shake and he enters a finger in your hole, curling it upwards so it hits a specific spot.

“I’ll make you a promise... When I’m done with you, you’re gonna be begging me to fuck you from now on. No more hiding or looking away. Okay?” Seonghwa brings his tongue back on you as he starts pumping his finger in and out of you. A muffled moan escapes you as you bite your lip. “I said; okay?”

“Yes!”

“Good girl.” He adds another finger before the speed quickens once again, and you’re sure you’re about to cum at any moment.

“Seonghwa.. I’m-” 

“Not yet, angel,” He doesn’t change the speed he’s going, only making it harder for you to hold back the overwhelming sensation forming in your stomach. “You can hold it back a little more, can’t you?” 

You almost want to cry from the emotions you’re feeling, his tongue going in circles over your clit. The grip on your bed sheets tightens, and just before you’re about to give up and let the orgasm take over, everything stands still. Like you’re on a rollercoaster, seeing the big fall right in front of you, but you’re stuck at the top. You look down to see Seonghwa removing himself from you, and you throw your head back.

Your heart is pounding fast against your chest like you’ve been running a marathon, and you release the air you’ve been holding for so long. 

“You did so well, angel. I thought you were about to go against my words for a second,” He crawls back on top of you, and you see that he’s only in his boxers. You had been too focused on him eating you out, you didn’t see what else was going on around you. “You’re a good slut, aren’t you?” His finger travels down the side of your face in a caring manner. 

Never had someone called you ‘slut’ in this setting, but when it came from Seonghwa, it only made you even more turned on. Yet, he still finds a way to intimidate you with his words, and your eyes flicker away from him. 

“Angel, are you getting shy again?” His finger travels down to your jaw before wrapping his hand around your throat. You’re completely under his spell as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you, do you understand?”

Not being able to wait any longer, you impatiently nod as you’re biting your lip. 

“I can’t hear you, angel.” 

“Yes!” 

Seonghwa lets go of you before taking off his boxers, and your mouth starts to water when you see his cock pressed against his stomach. It’s bigger than you thought it would be, glistening with pre-cum.

“Get on your knees and turn towards the mirror.” He instructs, and your cheeks heat up from what is about to happen. You do as he says, your body turning against the full-body mirror facing your bed. You watch him through the mirror as he gets in bed and you feel his front against your back. His cock presses up against you, and you can’t wait to have it inside you, stretching you out.

You meet his eyes in the mirror and he sends you a smile as his hands travel on your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His lips leave kisses on your shoulder while he wraps his arm around you and runs a finger in between your folds. You respond with a muffled moan from how sensitive you are, and he slowly raises his finger to your mouth. You notice how glistening it is from how wet you are, and before you know it, Seonghwa has his fingers in your mouth.

The taste of yourself spreads on your tongue, only adding to your list of things you’ve never tried before, but are happy to do with Seonghwa.

“Have you been this wet since you heard how I fuck? You probably undressed me with your eyes while the others were around, wondering how I look as I fuck you stupid.” He removed his fingers from your mouth. “But no need to wait any longer, angel. You really think you can take it?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

A second later, Seonghwa enters you and you almost fall forward if he hadn’t held onto you. His arm wraps around your waist, steadying you while you get used to the feeling of him inside you. Your hips are touching, skin against skin when he slowly starts to pull out before entering fully again. 

The feeling is overwhelming, and your head rolls back to rest on his shoulder. 

“Holy fuck, angel,” His speed slowly increases, and both of his hands go to grab your waist, holding your sturdy. "You make me want to keep you all to myself. So perfect around my cock, don't you think?" 

The sound of him fucking you quickly becomes the only thing in your mind, as you close your eyes to hold yourself from screaming.

He fastens the speed even more, and you let out a loud moan. One of his hands goes to your neck, and he slowly wraps his slender fingers around your throat to keep you in place.

“Open your eyes,” He demands and you do as he says, feeling his hips slam against yours. As soon as you open your eyes, you see yourself getting fucked by Seonghwa through the mirror. His eyes are so full of passion and lust as they keep their focus on you, while his dick pounds deep inside of you. You've never seen yourself while getting fucked, but you love the view of you and Seonghwa. “Do you see how beautiful you look with my cock inside you? So fucking obedient and good, you were made for me, angel.” 

Seonghwa lets go of your neck and a hard thrust has you falling forward, not being able to hold yourself up any longer. He continues to thrust deep inside you, grabbing the flesh on your hips so hard, it probably (hopefully) leaves marks tomorrow. 

You feel a tug in your hair, and you look up to see Seonghwa have his hand wrapped around your hair, forcing you to look into the mirror, and the sight turns you on to the fullest. Seonghwa is so deep inside of you, and you can’t help but look at how absolutely gorgeous he looks. His black, wavy hair is damp and a mess, sweat glistening on his chest, and a crease on his forehead from the passion he puts into fucking you. He grunts your name as he meets your eyes in the mirror, and you feel the thrusts deepen.

Your arms lose their strength and you fall down, face down, and ass up. This allows Seonghwa to lean over you, and you almost feel him deeper inside of you. He lets go of your hair and you feel his weight on you as he places kisses on your shoulders and your back as his cock works in and out of you. You moan his name into the bed, not being able to think of anything else but him railing into you.

“You take my cock so fucking good, just like the good little slut you are.”

His dominant side is so evident, that you’re wondering how he’s capable of hiding it normally. You didn’t ever think he’d be so controlling, but it turns you on seeing this nice guy turn into an absolute animal in bed. 

You suddenly understand what the girl from the library meant. With the way he's fucking you into the mattress, you're not sure how you're gonna be able to walk tomorrow.

You feel yourself clench around him, quickly feeling your orgasm approach once again. A moan escapes Seonghwa at the feeling and he knows you’re about to have your orgasm take over.

“I wanna see you while you come on my cock.” Seonghwa pulls out of you and rolls you over so you’re lying on your back. Your legs wrap around his waist as he enters you again, another moan about to leave your lips when he leans down to press his lips against yours. 

This takes you slightly by surprise, but in desperate need of his lips against yours, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hips start to move again, quickly picking up the speed to chase both of your orgasms. 

“Fuck, baby.. I feel you clench around my cock. Are you gonna cum?” He says, looking down at you.

“Y-Yes!” 

"I'll let you finish if you beg like a good girl."

He's killing you with his words, but you can't hold back anymore, You've been trying to hold back for so long, that you feel like you're going to pass out.

"Please, please!"

"Please what?" He keeps the speed, not going faster, not going slower.

"Please let me cum, Hwa!" You’re begging him to let you cum, not being able to hold back much longer. 

As if something changed in him, he quickly puts your legs on his shoulders, almost folding you in half. You feel him even deeper, hitting the perfect spot in your cunt.

“You’re going to cum on my cock, alright? You begged so obediently after all.” He smirks down at you as the pace of his thrust quickens, hitting the perfect spot every time. “Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” 

Shortly after, you feel the buildup in your entire lower region spread like wildfire throughout your entire body. Your toes curl, fingers grab the bed and your head rolls back in pleasure. An uninhibited release of control runs through your entire body and you clench around his cock. You've never felt this intensity of an orgasm before. Moaning Seonghwa’s name along with your orgasm taking over you, has him quickly feeling his orgasm approach as well. You look up at him, pleasure written all over your face.

“Holy shit, baby, I’m gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that.” 

“Cum inside me, please.” 

A smirk creeps up on Seonghwa’s lips. “Look at you, not so shy anymore, are we?” 

He fucks you hard and fast, looking down at you as you still feel your own orgasm. You moan once again, clenching around his cock and that’s enough to send Seonghwa over the edge. One last deep thrust has him emptying himself inside you, and you feel the warmth from his cum. His movements stop as he takes his time to feel his orgasm, closing his eyes in pleasure.

The sight in front of you leaves you addicted to him, so you start wiggling under him, trying to milk more cum out of him. His eyes open and he looks down at his cock inside of you, grinning as he lets you wiggle under him. He then slowly pulls out of you, enjoying the sight of his cum leaking out of you. He helps your legs down from his shoulders before slowly leaning forward to kiss you gently on your lips. 

His hand cups your cheek in a loving manner as the kiss deepens, but the kiss seems different from the others. This one is so full of care, protection, and softness. 

He pulls back, looking down at you in a way that wouldn’t make you believe he just railed you into next week.

“So… Was I too hard on you?” He asks with genuine nervousness in his voice. 

“No, you were perfect.” You smile, and he quickly looks relieved before he pecks your lips and gets comfortable in your bed.

“Come here, angel.” He opens his arms for you to lie down, and you immediately throw yourself into his arms. "Is it okay if I stay the night?" He asks softly as you wrap your arms around his stomach and he holds you close, resting his head on yours. 

"Honestly speaking, I think I'd be pretty pissed if you just left." You smile, getting comfortable in his arms. 

"I wouldn't dream of it." He kisses the top of your head, and you close your eyes, deciding to enjoy this moment with Seonghwa. “Goodnight, angel.”

You’re already half asleep, listening to the beating of his heart, wishing you could do this every night. 

(I’ve been thinking about writing a part 2 of this fic, let me know if that’s something you would like!)