sungchoi

[sungchoi]

TEACH ME || ~ LEE JENO ✮⋆˙

Synopsis: When your dumb boyfriend cheats and mocks your oral abilities, who better to call for help than your childhood best friend?!

NOTES: (PLS READ TEASER FOR CONTEXT!) NSFW, Childhoodbsf!JENO x fem!reader, Oral (m received), slight angst, “cheating back”, sexually recording, LMK IF ANYTHING ELSE!!

WC: 2k || >_<

A/N; I hope you guys enjoy it!! I’ve been really excited to post! Thank you to my lovely Gabrielle for fixing my errors and Kana + Mal (@sungchoi) for reading the final versionnnn!

Jeno couldn’t believe what he just heard. He stares and leans back as if you’ve grown a second head.

This puts you on edge even further, he probably thinks you’re weird, how will you come back from this? Maybe tell him you’re just drunk! That won’t work, he’s been beside you this entire time-

“Are you sure?” Jeno cuts through your thoughts. “You really want me to show you?”

You take a deep breath and nod eagerly. “Yes, I want you to teach me.”

Jeno lets out a dry chuckle, “So suddenly? This isn’t just something you want to learn to show your little boyfriend, hoping he’ll stop cheating, right?”

Your heart practically fell to the floor. You open your mouth to deny his claims, but the words die on your tongue. He wasn’t completely wrong. But it isn’t about your boyfriend anymore.

“I mean, I was going to but-“ you pause, feeling the confidence you barely had in the beginning slowly washing away. “I don’t care about him anymore”

Jeno tilts his head at you, almost as if he’s saying “sure.” in a sarcastic way without even opening his mouth.

You’ve never felt so nervous in your life, but you really want this.

‘It’s Jeno, just tell him the truth.’ Your mind practically screams at you.

“I want to know what I’m actually supposed to do… I want to feel confident that I can make someone feel good— I just need someone to tell me what to do without claiming they’ve ‘had better’ once I’m done”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

“I need you, Jeno.”

Jeno feels himself folding on the spot looking into your pretty eyes.

He flashes you a pretty smile and says, “Okay, I’ll show you”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and smile back at Jeno. Not wanting to waste any time you try to lean Jeno back fully on the bed and get on your knees.

He chuckles at your sudden eagerness and pulls you back up beside him.

“Slow down, baby,” he teases. “I need a bit of foreplay too, you know?”

“Right— sorry,” you say shyly, already so overwhelmed and embarrassed.

‘How cute,’ Jeno thinks to himself.

He looks at your pretty face, searching for any signs that you have doubts doing this— you don’t move an inch, waiting for him to guide you.

Taking your readiness to learn into consideration, Jeno doesn’t waste another second and leans in, slowly putting his lips against yours.

You gasp lightly in realization, while his hand comes to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing sweet circles on your cheek. Then, without breaking the kiss, Jeno takes his free hand and reaches for yours, pulling it down until your fingers brush against his crotch is.

“Start right here,” he whispers against your lips. “Nice and slowly…”

He connects your soft lips against his but this time inserting his tongue. You don’t fight against it and just let him have his way, exploring your tongue while you palm his hardened cock.

Jeno suddenly breaks the heated make-out just enough for you to catch your breath. You continue your movements— slow, unsure, but so eager to please him. He groans against your lips and then moves to brush his lips against your cheek, then your jaw.

His warm and shaky breath hits your ear as he mutters “Just like that.” His voice deep and sultry. He leans back and examines the growing wet spot beneath his sweats.

“Fuck—feels good, baby.”

Your heart is beating at an almost deadly pace. You feel heat swarm your cheeks and also in between your legs. Squeezing your thighs together and focusing on him, you keep rubbing exactly like he told you— ‘nice and slowly’ seeing by his praise he’s enjoying it.

Jeno’s hips buck slightly and he places his hands on top of yours, halting your movements. He kisses you once more and looks at you with eyes that are already dazed.

“Get on your knees for me now, baby.”

You slowly drop off the bed onto your knees and look up at him.

Jeno could compare you to a sweet little puppy the way you’re so cute and compliant.

Helping you just a bit, he pulls his sweats and underwear off and leaves them pooling at his ankles.

You practically drool at the sight before you. His cock was long and girthy, the veins on the side protruding similar to his arms and a pretty pale pink tip leaking pre-cum from your previous assault.

Jeno signals you to give him your hands again, you do, of course, and he takes one of your hands and places it on his shaft, just below the tip.

“Let me show you how I like it,” he says, and wraps his hand around yours. Slowly he moves your hand up and down the base at a painful slow pace— his hand aiding your small one that doesn’t reach all the way around.

He continues helping you while also trying to keep his composure, he takes your thumb and places it atop of his aching tip. Getting the hint you rub your thumb across the slit, Jeno instantly hisses from the stimulation.

Your other hand laches onto his cock too and continues the slow stroking method he just taught you.

‘He likes to be teased’ you think to yourself.

You smirk to yourself at the sudden realization about what your friend (?) is into and take it upon yourself to speed up ever so slightly.

Jeno, now leaning back on his elbows, twitches at the sudden but small pace change, chasing the pressure.

“That’s it, Y/N.” he practically whimpers, voice still deep and dominant despite slowly coming undone. “You’re doing so good, already.”

You suck a breath at his praise and clinch your thighs together, trying to relieve the ache in between your legs.

Jeno notices your flustered shifting and smirks,

“You like being praised, baby?” Without giving you a chance to respond he instantly rubs your cheek lovingly and continues “Keep being good for me and I’ll praise you all you want.”

Nodding at his words, you give his tip one last teasing stroke and look up at Jeno.

“Show me what you know,” Jeno says.

You move your hands and instantly open your mouth trying to fit all of him in— leading to your eyes watering and you slightly gagging around his shaft.

Jeno tuts at your actions and still as patient as ever, pulls you back up.

A single tear falls from your eye— partly from choking, partly from embarrassment. Jeno swipes the tear with his thumb and looks at you sweetly.

“It’s okay, baby. You just need to pace yourself” he claims. “Start slow.”

Nodding at him with trust, you gulp and prepare to try again. You start slow, this time starting off by placing small kitten licks across the head.

Jeno adores your ability to follow directions and ultimately gives you the praise he promised,

“Good girl, just like I told you.”

You continued licking a few more times and then put the tip in your mouth, with barely anything in your mouth but you can’t help but moan at the fullness.

You suck slowly but efficiently and use your other hand to stroke what you can’t reach at the moment. As you take a peek up, you see Jeno with his head back letting out moans into the room, shuddering at the feeling of your warm tongue swirling around his slit.

Feeling confident from his reactions you decide to take a bit more of him down your throat and stroke him faster.

Jeno’s thighs tense as he tries to hold back from coming so soon, knuckles turning pale white from gripping the sheets.

He couldn’t even believe this was happening, he was supposed to be here comforting you— now here he is falling apart under your mouth.

It’s not even about how you’re making him feel— it’s the fact that it’s you. His Y/N. Years of tension unraveling with each stroke of your hand and tongue.

Jeno doesn’t know what this is going to mean for the two of you once he reaches his orgasm, he just knows he doesn’t want this to end. And he’ll make sure it doesn’t…

You hollow your cheeks and take as much more of him as you physically can. A strangled groan escapes him and he jerks his hips up— unconsciously gagging you with his big cock while moaning your name.

“Shit— Y/N, keep going” Jeno is moaning louder now, his chest heaving, lost in the pleasure of it all.

Aside from lust, mischief also clouds Jeno’s mind. An idea to have you to himself takes over along with pleasure.

“Y/N, gimme your phone.” He says breathlessly.

With your free hand, you still manage to dig into the pocket of your (his) hoodie and pull out your cellphone, still giving it your all to get Jeno off.

Jeno instantly takes the phone and with shaky hands goes to the camera app, swiping to the video feature.

He flips the camera and clicks record, videotaping you sucking his cock sloppily.

Jeno stops the video and then messily scrolls through your contacts, rolling his eyes while clicking on “My Love <3”.

He adds the video to the messages and clicks send.

—

Your boyfriend is sitting on the couch of his own apartment when he suddenly gets a notification.

Y/N..🩶: +1 New Message

(1 VIDEO ATTACHMENT)

Not thinking much of it, he clicks on it. Nothing could’ve truly prepared him for what the video contains.

“Show the camera how pretty you look sucking me, baby.”

He knows that voice all too well — fucking Jeno Lee, Y/N’s oh-so-lovely “best friend.”

The video continues and the angle is vile.

It shows you sucking Jeno off without a care in the world.

He barely has time to blink before he hears a loud, wet gag, piercing his ears through the phone— Jeno’s groaning followed shortly after.

“Shit— good girl, take all of it” Jeno commands and you comply, sucking eagerly with spit seeping from the sides of your mouth. Looking up at Jeno with those pretty eyes then flashing the camera a wink, giggling playfully with cock in your mouth.

His grip on the phone tightens, jaw locking and eyes twitching as the video goes on.

“Fucking, slut,” he spits.

Jeno’s breathing grows rapidly, his hips shuddering as your mouth takes him just like practiced— hand stroking the rest.

His chest is heaving at this point. You can see his tummy contracting and the veins in his arms straining as he groans out.

“Fuck, Y/N— I’m so close, don’t stop, baby.”

You whimper around him, sucking harder trying to bring him to release faster. And then it hits—Jeno moans deep and raw, body trembling as he spills into your mouth.

You let him ride it out, swallowing what you can and licking him clean with slow kitten licks, teasing the sensitive tip.

In the background, the camera catches it all—your swollen lips, the glisten of cum on your tongue, and your soft giggle as you look up at him, utterly pleased with yourself.

Then the video ends..

Your boyfriend is practically seeing red, instantly typing a storm, threatening Jeno and degrading you. His message didn’t even get a chance to send before-

Y/N..🩶: +1 New Message

“Nothing better than that 😮‍💨”

Your ex-boyfriend practically breaks the phone in half trying to call you, mind rushing with insults to call you.

You don’t pick up.

Jeno’s hand is in your hair, hips bucking, while your mouth is already full of someone who actually gives a damn.

— End.

Taglist (this post): @tyongspice1 , @bluedbliss , @hi00000234567, @ra3lyn-exe || Comment to be on permanent taglist!

[sungchoi]

Ruin You .

pairing: sub!mingi x femdom!reader

synoposis: he’s aching, leaking, begging to cum. you ride it out slow, wreck him completely, then keep him crying for more.

tags/warnings: cockwarming, overstimulation, subtle size kink, begging, teasing, smut, crying during sex, (brief) orgasm denial, praise & degradation, no protection (always wrap up!), light pain/pleasure mix

wc: 1.3k

It starts with how he looks at you.

Not cocky confidence, not even desire. It’s need. Bare, soft, and a little scared. The kind of look that says ‘please ruin me’, without having to say a single word. He’s big, sure. Broad chest, thick thighs, strong arms, and the type of cock that could make you wince if he wasn’t so careful with it. But right now?

Right now, Mingi looks so small under your gaze. And that’s all you need.

You don’t touch him at first. You want him to feel it. The wait. The weight of your silence. He sits at the edge of the bed in his boxers, legs spread, breath already trembling.

“Hands behind you,” you demanded.

He obeys.

You let your fingers trail along his shoulders as you go behind him. You lean in, lips brushing his ear.

“You know what I want tonight?”

He gulps.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to beg for it. I want to see that pretty mouth of yours fall apart because you just can’t take it anymore.”

His cock twitches in his boxers.

You smile.

Good.

You move around to face him, but he keeps his eyes low. You step between his knees and place a hand on his jaw.

“Up.”

He looks up.

You lean in, brushing your lips against his. Light, teasing. His hands twitch behind him. You don’t kiss him. Not properly. You let him chase it. Let him whine softly when your mouth doesn’t stay.

You slide your hand down his chest, over his stomach, to the waistband of his boxers.

“You always get so hard for me,” you tease, fingers brushing over the thick bulge. His breath hitches.

You wrap your hand around him through the fabric.

“God, you’re already leaking.”

He lets out a helpless sound, hips jerking into your palm. You still him with one sharp look.

“What did I tell you?”

His mouth parts. Voice wrecked already.

“You told me not to move.”

“That’s right.”

You slide his boxers down slowly. His cock springs out. Heavy, flushed, hard. Big, yes, but more than that. He’s aching for you. Need pouring off him in waves. You don’t react. Not visually. You just wrap your hand around the base and squeeze.

He groans.

“Always so full for me,” you say, thumb brushing over the slick head. “How do you walk around like this? Doesn’t it ache?”

He nods.

You smirk.

“Good.”

You stroke him slowly, watching his thighs twitch. His hands still behind him, gripping the sheet; you can tell he’s dying to touch you. You lean up to tug at his lip before kissing his cheek.

“Can I—“

“No.”

His mouth closes. His cock jumps in your hand.

“You think you’re going to touch me, huh? That’s cute. You’re going to sit here and take what I give you. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You take your time. Teasing him with long strokes, kisses to his neck, little moans just loud enough for him to hear. You don’t let him cum. Every time his hips twitch too much, you stop. Every time he whines, you slow down.

By the time you’re undressed and straddling his lap, he’s panting. Sweating. Eyes glazed.

“Think you’ve earned it?” dragging his tip through your folds.

He whimpers.

“Please. Please, I need to be inside you.”

You sink down slowly.

He gasps. It’s loud, raw. You grip his shoulders as you adjust, taking him inch by inch.

He’s thick. He always is. But it’s perfect. Just enough to make your legs shake when he bottoms out. Just enough to make you gasp as well.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight. I can’t—“

“You can.”

You hold his face and kiss him hard, rolling your hips just once.

He moans into your mouth. Hands still behind him. Trying not to move.

“You feel that?” you whisper. “That stretch? You make me so full, baby.”

“Please let me touch you,” his voice trembling.

“Not yet.”

You ride him slowly. Torturously slowly. Just enough friction to make his thighs shake. Your hands stay tangled in his hair, spread across his jaw, dragging down his chest. You never gave him more than a taste.

You lean close to his ear.

“You wanna cum?”

He nods, frantic.

“Then beg.”

He breaks.

“Please. Please, I need to. I’ll do anything. Just let me cum inside you

You grip his jaw tighter, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Anything, huh? Prove it.”

He’s trembling, desperate, and you take full advantage, grinding down just enough to drive him wild without giving him release. His breath stutters, ragged and wet against your neck.

“I want to hear you beg for every inch, every drop. Tell me how bad you want it.”

His voice breaks, cracked and shaking. “I want you. I need your tight heat wrapped around me, clutching me. I want to bury myself so deep you can’t get rid of me.”

You lean down, your mouth barely brushing his ear. “Good boy. Now beg me to fuck you harder. Tell me you’re mine.”

His moan is soft and wrecked. It’s almost sweet. “Please, fuck me harder. I’m yours. Take me. Use me. I’m nothing without you.”

His hands claw at your hips, trying to pull you down, to take more of you, but you keep him just out of reach. You ride him slow, tormenting, every movement shallow and deliberate. Just enough to feel him stretch you. Enough to ruin him.

Your body moves against his in a slow, cruel rhythm. His cock throbs inside you, thick and aching, not unbearable but close.

His legs tremble. His hips twitch beneath yours, desperately chasing friction, and you watch him in fascination as he unravels. You slow down again, dragging it out, allowing the desperation to twist inside his lungs.

“Please,” he whines. “Please let me cum. I’ll do anything. I’ll be so good. Just don’t stop.”

You lean down to his chest and bite down, sucking a mark just above his heart. “Beg one more time. Like you mean it.”

He sobs. His entire body arches beneath yours. “Please. I need it. Let me cum inside you. Let me fill you. I’m yours. Only yours.”

You grind your hips in a slow, punishing circle. His voice breaks again and he spills inside you, crying out with a full-bodied tremor. It’s messy, deep and exactly what he asked for.

But you don’t stop.

You keep moving. Slow, gentle. Holding him there. Cockwarming him while he twitches, overstimulated and still gasping.

He clings to you like he’ll fall apart if you let go. His voice is hoarse and small, sobbing quietly against your chest. You brush his hair back and whisper praise into his skin.

“You’re mine,” you say softly. “Always mine.”

He nods lazily. His body is spent. His cock soft inside you, leaking, but you keep him there, warm and full.

He’s shaking. Not from pain. From the come down. From the weight of what you just pulled out of him.

You kiss his temple.

“You with me?”

He nods, voice nothing but a breath. “Yeah. I’m here.”

You continue to run your fingers through his hair, “You did so good.”

He hums, half-delirious. “You ruined me.”

You chuckle. “That was the point.”

He shifts slightly and groans when he feels the mess between you. You don’t let him move. You hold him in place.

“I like you like this. All wrecked and soft. Still inside me.”

He lets out a weak laugh and buries his face in your neck. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“You’ll live. I’m not letting you go yet.”

His arms tighten around you. For a while, he just breathes you in, quiet and heavy.

Then he speaks, mumbled and drowsy.

“Can we stay like this? Just for a bit?”

You nod. “As long as you want.”

He relaxes again, face still hidden. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You kiss him again, soft and slow. The top of his head, His cheeks, His lips.

He falls asleep like that. Still inside you. Still held in your arms.

Yours.

Every last piece of him.

[sungchoi]

Ruin You .

pairing: sub!mingi x femdom!reader

synoposis: he’s aching, leaking, begging to cum. you ride it out slow, wreck him completely, then keep him crying for more.

tags/warnings: cockwarming, overstimulation, subtle size kink, begging, teasing, smut, crying during sex, (brief) orgasm denial, praise & degradation, no protection (always wrap up!), light pain/pleasure mix

wc: 1.3k

It starts with how he looks at you.

Not cocky confidence, not even desire. It’s need. Bare, soft, and a little scared. The kind of look that says ‘please ruin me’, without having to say a single word. He’s big, sure. Broad chest, thick thighs, strong arms, and the type of cock that could make you wince if he wasn’t so careful with it. But right now?

Right now, Mingi looks so small under your gaze. And that’s all you need.

You don’t touch him at first. You want him to feel it. The wait. The weight of your silence. He sits at the edge of the bed in his boxers, legs spread, breath already trembling.

“Hands behind you,” you demanded.

He obeys.

You let your fingers trail along his shoulders as you go behind him. You lean in, lips brushing his ear.

“You know what I want tonight?”

He gulps.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to beg for it. I want to see that pretty mouth of yours fall apart because you just can’t take it anymore.”

His cock twitches in his boxers.

You smile.

Good.

You move around to face him, but he keeps his eyes low. You step between his knees and place a hand on his jaw.

“Up.”

He looks up.

You lean in, brushing your lips against his. Light, teasing. His hands twitch behind him. You don’t kiss him. Not properly. You let him chase it. Let him whine softly when your mouth doesn’t stay.

You slide your hand down his chest, over his stomach, to the waistband of his boxers.

“You always get so hard for me,” you tease, fingers brushing over the thick bulge. His breath hitches.

You wrap your hand around him through the fabric.

“God, you’re already leaking.”

He lets out a helpless sound, hips jerking into your palm. You still him with one sharp look.

“What did I tell you?”

His mouth parts. Voice wrecked already.

“You told me not to move.”

“That’s right.”

You slide his boxers down slowly. His cock springs out. Heavy, flushed, hard. Big, yes, but more than that. He’s aching for you. Need pouring off him in waves. You don’t react. Not visually. You just wrap your hand around the base and squeeze.

He groans.

“Always so full for me,” you say, thumb brushing over the slick head. “How do you walk around like this? Doesn’t it ache?”

He nods.

You smirk.

“Good.”

You stroke him slowly, watching his thighs twitch. His hands still behind him, gripping the sheet; you can tell he’s dying to touch you. You lean up to tug at his lip before kissing his cheek.

“Can I—“

“No.”

His mouth closes. His cock jumps in your hand.

“You think you’re going to touch me, huh? That’s cute. You’re going to sit here and take what I give you. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You take your time. Teasing him with long strokes, kisses to his neck, little moans just loud enough for him to hear. You don’t let him cum. Every time his hips twitch too much, you stop. Every time he whines, you slow down.

By the time you’re undressed and straddling his lap, he’s panting. Sweating. Eyes glazed.

“Think you’ve earned it?” dragging his tip through your folds.

He whimpers.

“Please. Please, I need to be inside you.”

You sink down slowly.

He gasps. It’s loud, raw. You grip his shoulders as you adjust, taking him inch by inch.

He’s thick. He always is. But it’s perfect. Just enough to make your legs shake when he bottoms out. Just enough to make you gasp as well.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight. I can’t—“

“You can.”

You hold his face and kiss him hard, rolling your hips just once.

He moans into your mouth. Hands still behind him. Trying not to move.

“You feel that?” you whisper. “That stretch? You make me so full, baby.”

“Please let me touch you,” his voice trembling.

“Not yet.”

You ride him slowly. Torturously slowly. Just enough friction to make his thighs shake. Your hands stay tangled in his hair, spread across his jaw, dragging down his chest. You never gave him more than a taste.

You lean close to his ear.

“You wanna cum?”

He nods, frantic.

“Then beg.”

He breaks.

“Please. Please, I need to. I’ll do anything. Just let me cum inside you

You grip his jaw tighter, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Anything, huh? Prove it.”

He’s trembling, desperate, and you take full advantage, grinding down just enough to drive him wild without giving him release. His breath stutters, ragged and wet against your neck.

“I want to hear you beg for every inch, every drop. Tell me how bad you want it.”

His voice breaks, cracked and shaking. “I want you. I need your tight heat wrapped around me, clutching me. I want to bury myself so deep you can’t get rid of me.”

You lean down, your mouth barely brushing his ear. “Good boy. Now beg me to fuck you harder. Tell me you’re mine.”

His moan is soft and wrecked. It’s almost sweet. “Please, fuck me harder. I’m yours. Take me. Use me. I’m nothing without you.”

His hands claw at your hips, trying to pull you down, to take more of you, but you keep him just out of reach. You ride him slow, tormenting, every movement shallow and deliberate. Just enough to feel him stretch you. Enough to ruin him.

Your body moves against his in a slow, cruel rhythm. His cock throbs inside you, thick and aching, not unbearable but close.

His legs tremble. His hips twitch beneath yours, desperately chasing friction, and you watch him in fascination as he unravels. You slow down again, dragging it out, allowing the desperation to twist inside his lungs.

“Please,” he whines. “Please let me cum. I’ll do anything. I’ll be so good. Just don’t stop.”

You lean down to his chest and bite down, sucking a mark just above his heart. “Beg one more time. Like you mean it.”

He sobs. His entire body arches beneath yours. “Please. I need it. Let me cum inside you. Let me fill you. I’m yours. Only yours.”

You grind your hips in a slow, punishing circle. His voice breaks again and he spills inside you, crying out with a full-bodied tremor. It’s messy, deep and exactly what he asked for.

But you don’t stop.

You keep moving. Slow, gentle. Holding him there. Cockwarming him while he twitches, overstimulated and still gasping.

He clings to you like he’ll fall apart if you let go. His voice is hoarse and small, sobbing quietly against your chest. You brush his hair back and whisper praise into his skin.

“You’re mine,” you say softly. “Always mine.”

He nods lazily. His body is spent. His cock soft inside you, leaking, but you keep him there, warm and full.

He’s shaking. Not from pain. From the come down. From the weight of what you just pulled out of him.

You kiss his temple.

“You with me?”

He nods, voice nothing but a breath. “Yeah. I’m here.”

You continue to run your fingers through his hair, “You did so good.”

He hums, half-delirious. “You ruined me.”

You chuckle. “That was the point.”

He shifts slightly and groans when he feels the mess between you. You don’t let him move. You hold him in place.

“I like you like this. All wrecked and soft. Still inside me.”

He lets out a weak laugh and buries his face in your neck. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“You’ll live. I’m not letting you go yet.”

His arms tighten around you. For a while, he just breathes you in, quiet and heavy.

Then he speaks, mumbled and drowsy.

“Can we stay like this? Just for a bit?”

You nod. “As long as you want.”

He relaxes again, face still hidden. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You kiss him again, soft and slow. The top of his head, His cheeks, His lips.

He falls asleep like that. Still inside you. Still held in your arms.

Yours.

Every last piece of him.

[sungchoi]

AYEEEEEEE THIS IS FIRE YALL

TEACH ME (TEASER) ||~ Lee Jeno ✮⋆˙

Synopsis: When your dumb boyfriend cheats on you and mocks your oral- abilities, who else could you call for help other than your childhood best friend?

NOTES: NSFW, Childhoodbsf!JENO x fem!reader, slight angst, “cheating back”. Not fully proofread

[More warnings once full post is released]

WC: 1k || FULL RELEASE DATE: June 2

A/N: guy I actually love how the full thing came out omgg I can’t wait for you guys to read it 👅👅 Thank you Mal for reading over this!! ( @sungchoi )

Jeno has always hated your boyfriend. There was nothing genuinely wrong with the guy, Jeno just didn’t trust him. He thought you’d look much better with someone else, much better with him.

So when you called him in tears saying you ‘caught him out with some random blonde’, he couldn’t help proud that his instincts of the guy were correct. But ultimately he needed to put his pride to the side and comfort his friend.

“I’ll be there in five” he states. You sniffle an “Ok” and end the call, desperate for a second pair of eye to give you ideas on how to confront your cheating ‘boyfriend’.

—

Jeno made it to you as fast as he could without violating any traffic laws. He opened the door to your apartment with the spare key you gave him that your boyfriend was always jealous of, you kept trying to tell him that it didn’t mean anything and that Jeno can only use it for emergencies (and when you’re crying over him), but he kept being dramatic saying “friend’s don’t do that”. How would he know? He barely has friends, let alone ones that have been beside him since childhood.

Jeno walked through the apartment he knows all too well and headed to your bedroom. The door was cracked slightly open but he could your cries as clear as day. As he slowly opens the door he sees you hunched over on the edge of the bed, head in your hands as you cry tears of heartbreak.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, in the same soft tone all this friends claim he only uses with you. “Y/N, I’m here.” He states, walking over slowly trying not to overwhelm you.

Your tears pause as you look up and make eye contact with him, Jeno feels his own heart breaking at the sight of you; bloodshot eyes, fresh tears still streaming down your face, you look like a girl who gave her all in a relationship only to get betrayed.

“Hi,” you say weakly, chuckling slightly. You probably look pathetic in front of him. Jeno didn’t mind, he’s seen you at your highest and lowest, you’re still the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on either way.

You scoot over as a cue for him to sit beside you, instantly he takes the hint and rushes to sit, wrapping his arms around you in comfort.

You return the hug immediately and rest your head on the side of his neck. Jeno breathes in your scent and gets a whiff of- wait- his cologne? He pulls back and takes a full look at you, you’re wearing his hoodie. Huh, no wonder your “boyfriend” hated his guts.

Jeno takes your face in his palm and stares at you like you’ve placed the stars in the sky. Remembering what he came here for he straightens up and asks firmly,

“You want me to kill that guy?” he sounds dead serious too.

You look at him with a dopey smile and sigh. “No,” you start. “I just want you to be here with me.”

Jeno looks as if he’s genuinely pondering your request, “I guess I can do that,” He teases” giving you a soft smile that makes your tummy flutter with butterflies.

“If you need anything, I’m your guy.” He states. Jeno always makes it known you can trust him to handle anything you throw at him. Out of shyness you’ve always tried to not bother him too much, especially since everyone claims you depend on him more than you do your “boyfriend”, but maybe today is the day you abuse your power.

There’s no doubt Jeno is an attractive guy. You’ve been to parties with him countless times and seen him walk out with minimum two girls on his arm. He’s gotta be experienced, right?

You on the other hand have only been with your current boyfriend. It was already embarrassing enough you’d been a virgin at the ripe age of 24, but your boyfriend shaming your sexual performance right after your first time made you even more ashamed.

—

“How’d I do?” You asked nervously, you’d never given a blowjob before. Talking about it, yes. But giving it was a whole different ballgame, especially since your boyfriend barely gave you anything to work with….

“I’ve had better,” He states plainly. Getting off the bed to go play the game, leaving you embarrassed and frustrated on the bed.

—

You visibly cringe at the flashback, and Jeno catches it. “You okay?” he asks with genuine concern.

You realize what happened and just stare at him for a bit, examining him. He’s so built. He showed up in a black hoodie but his broad shoulders are still prominent, his big hands that constantly have veins protruding from them, such a pretty face with a nice nose you just wanna-

“Y/N,” He interrupts once more. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You look at him and feel your cheeks warming up as you process the question you deeply wanna propose to him.

“I actually do have,” you simmer, “something to ask you.. and it’s okay if you say no.”

Jeno looks confused, why are you afraid to ask for a favor? He’s been to the store to buy you tampons many times, and even went through your underwear drawer to bring you a new pair you forgot to get before your shower. What’s the matter now?!

You look away embarrassed at his reaction, already overthinking before even asking the question. Jeno is growing impatient at this point.

“What do you need, Y/N.” he quipped “I told you I’m willing to do whatever you need.” He reassured.

Y/N sucked a deep breath and decided to just rip the bandage off.

Fuck it, you thought

“Can you show me how to give a blowjob?..” She says barely above a whisper.

Oh.

Jeno wasn’t expecting that. He did say he’d help with anything though.

[sungchoi]

CRY FOR YOU ||~ Kim TaeRae ✶⋆.˚

Synopsis: Cutieful Taerae crying for you !!

Notes: NSFW Taerae x genderneutral!reader || SUB! TAERAE!! Dom!reader, hand-job, overstim, dacryphilia, slight nipple play, pet names, praise kink (?), overuse of words “baby” / “pretty” ….

Wc: 509 || ☆

A/N: small one-shot to start off my account!! Likes and reblogs appreciated!

You’ve been stroking his pretty cock in a painfully slow pace for what feels like hours, egging him on even more by rubbing your thumb across his sensitive slit.

“Please,” he begs, so desperately craving a release. You’d give it to him, always, just not without a bit of fun.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you soothe. “I’ll let you come soon, love, just be a good boy for right now. Can you do that for me?”

Taerae sucks a breath and eagerly nods. Of course, anything for you.

You speed up your pace and your other hand starts playing with his nipples, he instantly throws his head and bites his lips so hard you’d think he’ll draw blood. it’s getting harder for him to keep his composure.

Taerae feels like he’s on fire. Your hand tugging his cock is creating a tight knot in his belly that’s gonna snap any moment. The mix of sensations is overwhelming for him. Trying to be good for you, not coming, not making a noise, it’s all just too much. He feels like he’ll break any moment.

Suddenly, he lets out a choked moan, instantly regretting how loud it was and sucking a breath to quiet himself once more. Your hand plays with his pretty cock even faster and you look up to see - wait, is he crying?

You grab his face with your free hand and examine the sight before you. He instantly covers his face with his arm, cheeks turning red while trying to free from your grip on his face. Your baby is embarrassed? You can’t have that. “You’re trying to hide from me baby?”

You coo with faux sympathy, like it hurts he’s trying to keep that pretty face covered from you.

“I- I can’t” he gasped, “it’s too much, p-please” he’s practically hyperventilating trying to let out words to explain himself. He puts his arm down and stares at you, shame written on his face. “I’m sorry,” he whined towards you. “I didn’t mean to cry, please just let me cum”

You would laugh in his face if you didn’t find it so fucking hot. Fat tears spilling from his pretty eyes only making you wanna torture him more. You won’t deny him any longer, though, he’s been so good.

“You can come baby,” you grant. That’s all it took for Taerae’s legs to immediately lock and suddenly shoot blanks into your palm. He’s shaking beneath you, pretty moans he’s been holding in coming out against his will. It just felt too good :((

“Thank you, thank you.” He said, still crying and shaking. He grabs your hand, pausing your assault on his poor leaky tip.

Once he comes down from his high, you take your clean hand and wipe the tears from his face. Taerae lays beside you, completely spent from the prior orgasm. You lean closer to his sweaty body and place a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Good job, baby” you praise.

It must be true that good things come to those who wait.

[sungchoi]

Stay in | 🏔️

pairing: choi san x gn!reader

synopsis: sick and stubborn, you insist you’re fine until san shows up with soup, warmth, and quiet affection, proving that love means never having to be okay alone.

genre/tags: fluff, sick, est. relationship, cuddling, reassurance, a little fun teasing here and there, comfort, domestic fluff, emotional intimacy

wc: 1k

Your phone buzzed with a message from San just as you were reaching for another tissue.

Sannie: You okay? You sounded off earlier.

You hesitated before replying.

You: I’m fine. Just a little tired lol.

Which was true… If “a little tired” meant your head was pounding, throat on fire, and your nose going from slightly stuffy to aggressively useless in the last hour.

You shuffled back to the couch and pulled your blanket up to your chin, silently cursing your immune system. Just as you sank deeper into the cushions, your phone buzzed again.

Sannie: Okay. I’ll be there in 5.

You blinked.

You: What? No!! I told you I’m fine! Go hang with the guys!!

Sannie: You’re not fine. And I’d rather be with you anyway. ♡

You were still typing a feeble protest when a knock on your door interrupted you. You opened the door, still wrapped in your blanket like a half-defeated burrito, only to find San standing there on your doorstep with a grocery bag in one hand and a soft, knowing smile on his face.

“I brought soup, tea, and those M&M’s I know you like,” he said and pressed by, stepping into your apartment.

“You really didn’t have to—”

“I know.” He turned and gave you a look, eyes soft but unwavering. “But I wanted to.”

You followed him back into the living room and San into the couch as your body gave in. San knelt beside you and lightly pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning.

“You’re hot,” he murmured. “Let’s get some fluids in you, okay?”

You silently watched as he padded around your kitchen like he’d done it a hundred times, humming under his breath, fixing the tea and soup from earlier, and making sure to pour the soup into your favorite mug. When he returned, he settled next to you, carefully pulling you into his side.

You let your head rest against his shoulder. He felt solid and safe. His thumb rubbed slow circles on your arm.

“I hate when you're sick,” he whispered.

You let out a weak laugh. “I’m still cute though, right?”

He tilted his head and grinned. “Always. Even when you look like you’re one sneeze away from collapsing.”

You groaned, hiding your face in his hoodie, and he merely chuckled, kissing you on the top of your head.

And as you slowly drifted off against him, warm and cared for, you realized you didn’t have to be “fine” around him at all.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep.

But with San’s warmth, the gentle hush of his breathing, and the comfort of being wrapped in both a blanket and his scent made it impossible to stay awake. When you stirred again, the room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the TV’s paused screen and the tiny lamp he must’ve turned on.

Your head still rested on his shoulder. He was running his fingers through your hair lazily, while the other lightly rested over your hip, keeping you close.

“You awake?” he murmured, voice low.

You hummed. “Kind of.”

“Good. I was beginning to think I’d be spending the night as your personal pillow.”

You blinked up at him. “You already are.”

San grinned, brushing a few hairs away from your face. “True. But I don’t mind. You look cute when you sleep.”

You groaned. “Don’t say that. I probably snored. And drooled.”

“Yup,” he teased, lips twitching. “You drooled a little right here.” He tapped his shoulder dramatically. “Marked your territory, huh?”

You whined and buried your face into his chest again. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you’re cuddled up on me like I’m your favorite body pillow.”

You swatted his side, but your heart fluttered. He knew exactly what he was doing.

After a quiet beat, he said more softly, “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay, you know.”

You glanced up.

“I know you hate feeling like a burden,” he added, rubbing your back slowly. “But taking care of you? Being here when you need me? That’s not a burden to me.”

Your throat tightened, this time not because of the cold.

“...Thank you.” you whispered.

He smiled, leaned in, and kissed your forehead gently. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. Now drink your tea, before it gets cold, then I’ll put on that dumb rom-com you secretly love.”

You laughed. “It’s not dumb.”

He gave you a look. “The guy proposes by jumping into a shark tank.”

You grinned. “It’s romantic.”

“It’s reckless.”

“Just press play, San.”

He did. And when you leaned into him again, he pulled the blanket over the both of you and held you tighter, like you were exactly where you belonged, fever and all.

𝜗𝜚

Hours passed like minutes. The movie ended and the next one started on autoplay, but you were barely paying attention. The ache in your body had dulled to something manageable, thanks to San. His warmth, his quiet attention, and the steady way he held you like you wouldn’t break, even when it felt like you might.

You were half asleep again when he gently shifted to get up.

“Where’re you going?” you murmured, voice raspy.

“I was gonna grab an extra blanket and sleep on the floor,” he said softly, glancing back at you. “Didn’t wanna crowd you.”

You frowned. “San, just… stay.”

He paused, then smiled a little. “Yeah?”

You nodded, already pulling the blanket back to let him slide under with you. He slid in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the curve of your neck.

“Better?” he murmured, his voice warm against your skin.

“Way better.”

You felt his fingers rubbing gentle circles over your stomach, soothing you back toward sleep.

“If you get me sick,” he whispered, “I’m making you make the soup next time.”

You laughed, soft and drowsy. “Deal.”

And with that, you let yourself slowly slip away to sleep, breathing in sync with the boy who loved you too much to leave, sick or not.

[sungchoi]

Stay in | 🏔️

pairing: choi san x gn!reader

synopsis: sick and stubborn, you insist you’re fine until san shows up with soup, warmth, and quiet affection, proving that love means never having to be okay alone.

genre/tags: fluff, sick, est. relationship, cuddling, reassurance, a little fun teasing here and there, comfort, domestic fluff, emotional intimacy

wc: 1k

Your phone buzzed with a message from San just as you were reaching for another tissue.

Sannie: You okay? You sounded off earlier.

You hesitated before replying.

You: I’m fine. Just a little tired lol.

Which was true… If “a little tired” meant your head was pounding, throat on fire, and your nose going from slightly stuffy to aggressively useless in the last hour.

You shuffled back to the couch and pulled your blanket up to your chin, silently cursing your immune system. Just as you sank deeper into the cushions, your phone buzzed again.

Sannie: Okay. I’ll be there in 5.

You blinked.

You: What? No!! I told you I’m fine! Go hang with the guys!!

Sannie: You’re not fine. And I’d rather be with you anyway. ♡

You were still typing a feeble protest when a knock on your door interrupted you. You opened the door, still wrapped in your blanket like a half-defeated burrito, only to find San standing there on your doorstep with a grocery bag in one hand and a soft, knowing smile on his face.

“I brought soup, tea, and those M&M’s I know you like,” he said and pressed by, stepping into your apartment.

“You really didn’t have to—”

“I know.” He turned and gave you a look, eyes soft but unwavering. “But I wanted to.”

You followed him back into the living room and San into the couch as your body gave in. San knelt beside you and lightly pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning.

“You’re hot,” he murmured. “Let’s get some fluids in you, okay?”

You silently watched as he padded around your kitchen like he’d done it a hundred times, humming under his breath, fixing the tea and soup from earlier, and making sure to pour the soup into your favorite mug. When he returned, he settled next to you, carefully pulling you into his side.

You let your head rest against his shoulder. He felt solid and safe. His thumb rubbed slow circles on your arm.

“I hate when you're sick,” he whispered.

You let out a weak laugh. “I’m still cute though, right?”

He tilted his head and grinned. “Always. Even when you look like you’re one sneeze away from collapsing.”

You groaned, hiding your face in his hoodie, and he merely chuckled, kissing you on the top of your head.

And as you slowly drifted off against him, warm and cared for, you realized you didn’t have to be “fine” around him at all.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep.

But with San’s warmth, the gentle hush of his breathing, and the comfort of being wrapped in both a blanket and his scent made it impossible to stay awake. When you stirred again, the room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the TV’s paused screen and the tiny lamp he must’ve turned on.

Your head still rested on his shoulder. He was running his fingers through your hair lazily, while the other lightly rested over your hip, keeping you close.

“You awake?” he murmured, voice low.

You hummed. “Kind of.”

“Good. I was beginning to think I’d be spending the night as your personal pillow.”

You blinked up at him. “You already are.”

San grinned, brushing a few hairs away from your face. “True. But I don’t mind. You look cute when you sleep.”

You groaned. “Don’t say that. I probably snored. And drooled.”

“Yup,” he teased, lips twitching. “You drooled a little right here.” He tapped his shoulder dramatically. “Marked your territory, huh?”

You whined and buried your face into his chest again. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you’re cuddled up on me like I’m your favorite body pillow.”

You swatted his side, but your heart fluttered. He knew exactly what he was doing.

After a quiet beat, he said more softly, “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay, you know.”

You glanced up.

“I know you hate feeling like a burden,” he added, rubbing your back slowly. “But taking care of you? Being here when you need me? That’s not a burden to me.”

Your throat tightened, this time not because of the cold.

“...Thank you.” you whispered.

He smiled, leaned in, and kissed your forehead gently. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. Now drink your tea, before it gets cold, then I’ll put on that dumb rom-com you secretly love.”

You laughed. “It’s not dumb.”

He gave you a look. “The guy proposes by jumping into a shark tank.”

You grinned. “It’s romantic.”

“It’s reckless.”

“Just press play, San.”

He did. And when you leaned into him again, he pulled the blanket over the both of you and held you tighter, like you were exactly where you belonged, fever and all.

𝜗𝜚

Hours passed like minutes. The movie ended and the next one started on autoplay, but you were barely paying attention. The ache in your body had dulled to something manageable, thanks to San. His warmth, his quiet attention, and the steady way he held you like you wouldn’t break, even when it felt like you might.

You were half asleep again when he gently shifted to get up.

“Where’re you going?” you murmured, voice raspy.

“I was gonna grab an extra blanket and sleep on the floor,” he said softly, glancing back at you. “Didn’t wanna crowd you.”

You frowned. “San, just… stay.”

He paused, then smiled a little. “Yeah?”

You nodded, already pulling the blanket back to let him slide under with you. He slid in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the curve of your neck.

“Better?” he murmured, his voice warm against your skin.

“Way better.”

You felt his fingers rubbing gentle circles over your stomach, soothing you back toward sleep.

“If you get me sick,” he whispered, “I’m making you make the soup next time.”

You laughed, soft and drowsy. “Deal.”

And with that, you let yourself slowly slip away to sleep, breathing in sync with the boy who loved you too much to leave, sick or not.

[sungchoi]

The View .

pairing: kim hongjoong x fem!reader

synopsis: one lingering touch from your old friend and hongjoongs patience snaps. He pulls you aside, leaning in close. "You really like to push me, huh?"

genre/warnings: est. relationship, smut, fingering, dirty talk swearing, unprotected sex (always wear protection!), mirror sex, teasing

wc : 3k

It’s the day of your friend's wedding. You and Hongjoong arrived not too long ago, greeting everyone as you made your way to your reserved table.

Once you’re settled in, a sudden craving for something sweet hits you. Since the food service hasn’t started yet, you figure there’s no harm in sneaking a little treat.

Leaning in so Hongjoong can hear you better, you say, “Hey Joong, I’m gonna run to the food bar real quick to grab something,”

Hongjoong glances over at you with a teasing smile, “Alright, don’t be gone too long. Try not to spoil your appetite before dinner.”

You giggled, pushing your chair in as you stood. “No promises.”

As you make your way over to the food bar, warm lights shine over neat rows of desserts. Mini cupcakes, chocolate-covered strawberries, and pastel macarons catch your eye. They were all too tempting to ignore. You grab a small plate and begin picking a few favorites, trying your best not to go overboard. 

Just as you’re reaching for a cupcake, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.”

You pause and turn around, your eyes widen slightly as you take in the familiar face.

“No way,” you exclaimed with surprised laughter “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Standing there is an old friend, someone you were close with in highschool, and maybe had a fling with, before life eventually pulled you in different directions. They’ve changed just enough for you to notice, but they still carry that same familiar energy.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” they say, grinning. “You look incredible.”

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks, whether from the compliment or the sudden spark in the air. “You too. I didn’t know you knew the bride and groom.”

“Groom’s my cousin,” they say with a shrug, picking up a chocolate truffle. “You?”

“Bride’s a longtime friend,” you reply, holding up your plate. “And apparently I still can’t resist the dessert table.”

“Same,” they say, plucking a strawberry from a platter. “But I think I might’ve found something sweeter.”

You laugh, a little flustered but playing it off as you look away, turning your attention back to your plate.

You can feel the buzz of that brief connection linger; that old rhythm clicking back into place. Sweet and nostalgic.

As you start to say your goodbyes, they lean in slightly, placing a hand on your arm, just a light touch, but stays a second too long.

“It was really good seeing you again,” their eyes begin searching yours. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to catch up properly later?”

You offer a polite smile, trying to ignore the familiar warmth of their fingers on your skin. “Maybe. Enjoy the wedding!”

They finally pull back with a knowing grin, and you turn, walking back to your table with the dessert plate in hand.

As you approach the table, you find Hongjoong already watching you. His posture relaxed, but his gaze sharp, focused. Tracking. He doesn’t say anything until you sit down beside him.

“Took your time,” he remarks casually, but the edge in his tone doesn’t quite match the softness of his smile.

You glance over at him. “Ran into someone I used to know.”

His brow lifts slightly. “That so?”

You nod, setting the plate down. “Old friend. Haven’t seen them in years.”

Hongjoongs eyes flicker towards the food bar, where your friend is still hovering nearby. He doesn’t say anything right away, but the silence stretches just long enough to feel noticeable. Then, he shifts closer, one hand slipping onto your thigh under the table, gentle, but firm.

“You seemed pretty cozy,” he says quietly, voice low enough for only you to hear.

You turn your head toward him, heart skipping at the closeness. “It was just a hello. Nothing more.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” he murmurs, his hand giving your leg a slow, deliberate squeeze. “You sure about that?”

The playfulness in his voice is still there, but its tinged with something deeper—protectiveness, maybe.

You smile faintly, placing your hand over his. “Joong, I’m sitting here with you. That should tell you everything you need to know.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, like he’s weighing the truth of your words. Then, his hand slides upward just a little, fingers brushing along the edge of your dress, leaning in close, lips nearly brushing your ear.

“Good,” he whispers. “Because I don’t like sharing.”

A subtle thrill runs through you at the low, teasing threat in his voice. And yet, beneath it, there’s tenderness too. The way his hand stays curled around yours under the table, the way his thumb draws soft circles against your skin.

𝜗𝜚

Speeches began as soon as everyone received their food; passing with soft music, laughter, and clinking glasses.

Every now and then, you’d feel Hongjoongs hand rest on your leg, subtle yet possessive.

By the time the speeches are done, the dance floor begins to fill. Hongjoong leans over to whisper something in your ear, his lips brushing your skin just enough to make your breath catch.

Your old friend shows up again, grinning, clearly tipsy, strolling toward you with that same overconfident charm.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” flashing a smile that lingers a little too long. “Dance with me?”

You pause, then glance at Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye. He’s watching quietly, his fingers curled loosely around his drink. Calm. Still. But not blinking.

You smile sweetly at your friend. “Sure, why not?”

As you stand, you catch the subtle shift in Hongjoongs jaw.

On the dance floor, your friend wastes no time getting closer. Hand settling just a little too high on your waist, thumb brushing over the exposed skin on your back. You feel it. Letting it happen. Maybe even lean in a little more than necessary when they whisper something in your ear, laughing lightly like you don’t notice their fingers sliding along your spine.

You’re fully aware of how close you are. Of the eyes watching you from across the room.

Especially his.

And when your friend’s hand slips lower, you don’t flinch. Instead, you turn your head just enough that Hongjoong see’s the smirk tugging at your lips.

He sets his drink down.

Stands.

Moves.

You don’t even have time to pretend to be surprised before he’s behind you, his arm sliding smoothly around your waist.

“Mind if I steal my date back?” not even glancing at your friend.

You give him a slow smile, your voice soft and teasing. “Steal away.”

Hongjoong’s hand stays firmly on your waist as he leads you away, steering you with effortless confidence across the dance floor, down the hall, and away from the crowd. The moment you’re out of view, he stops, backing you into the wall with a low, amused breath.

“You think I didn’t notice that little game?” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

You tilt your head, eyes bright. “What game?”

A slow, dark smile crawls across his face. “Don’t play dumb, baby. You wanted to see how far I’d let it go.”

“And?” trailing your fingers up his chest slowly.

He leans in, his nose brushing against yours. “I think you forgot who you belong to.”

Before you can even respond, his mouth crashes into yours. Hungry. Rough. Possessive. The kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving no room for questions about who’s in control now. His hands roam your sides, sliding over your hips, like he’s claiming you all over again, grounding you to him as he explores you with his hands.

He doesn’t stop.

He laces your fingers with his and pulls you into a nearby room that’s dimly lit and quiet, the reception noises muffled by the thick door he locks behind you. The second it clicks shut, he pushes you gently against the wall, with one hand curling around your thigh to hoist it around his waist.

His lips find your neck, biting, a gentle suck, and tasting.

“You really like to push me, huh?” he mutters into your skin.

Your only response is the way your hips roll forward, meeting his with a teasing grind that earns a low growl deep inside him.

That’s all he needed. His mouth finds yours again, more desperate this time, while his hands move to slide up your legs, your sides, exploring like he wants to memorize every inch of you. The room seems to grow warmer, smaller, almost like it’s holding its breath for the two of you.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs against your mouth, “How hard it was to sit there and pretend I wasn’t losing my mind.”

“Seeing the way they looked at you, like they had a chance. Touched you like they didn’t know any better. But I’m the one you always come back to.”

You nod, fingers gripping his jacket. “Only you.”

His jacket comes off, your fingers tugging at his shirt like it’s muscle memory. There’s zero awkwardness or pause. Just two people who are all too familiar with one another. Two people who have been holding back for too long. Every touch is bold, every kiss is fiery.

And when he finally whispers your name against your skin, low and breathless, it’s not just possessive, but almost reverent. Like he’s reminding both you and himself that you’re his. Fully.

You barely register it when he lifts you with ease, carrying you across the room. He sets you in front of a full-length mirror tucked into the corner, the soft lighting casting a golden glow on both your reflections.

You look up, the sight of the two of you nearly takes your breath away. His dark eyes locked into yours, hands trailing down your sides, lips softly kissing your shoulder.

“Keep looking,” he murmurs, the husky timbre of his voice dripping in raw desire. “I want you to see how beautiful you look when you fall apart for me.”

He moves behind you, gently urging you to part your legs, spreading just enough for the both of you to watch as his fingers slide between your thighs.

“Look how wet you are already, baby,” he groans, slowly dragging his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the slickness teasingly. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

The mirror shows every little quiver, every soft gasp as he circles your clit and keeps you on that edge, but not giving it to you yet, still playing with you, still holding back. You squirm under his touch, already desperate from the teasing he’s been giving you all night. He knows what he’s doing, no doubt, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the mirror, watching his fingers dance between your legs.

Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers push into you, slow and deliberate, pulling a moan from your throat.

Your body jolts slightly as the pressure is a delicious shock, and he pauses there, letting you adjust. His gaze meets yours in the mirror again, dark and steady. He starts to move his fingers at a maddening pace, not fast, just deep. Every drag makes you tremble even more, your legs threatening to give out.

You try to grind your hips against his hand, yearning for more, but he tsks softly tightens his hold around your waist, keeping you still.

“You’ll have to beg for it, princess,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “Say it. Tell me what you want.”

The look in his eyes leaves no room for denial. He wants to hear it, he wants to own it. Your mouth falls open, the need making your voice shaky as you finally give him what he wants.

“Please,” You whisper, your breath catching in your throat as he curls his fingers just right inside of you.

He doesn’t move yet, he just watches you in the mirror, one brow raised, waiting.

You swallow, heat pooling in your core. “Please, Joong. I want more… I want you.”

A dark smile tugs at his lips, pleased with your surrender. “There she is.”

Without another word, he moves. His fingers pick up pace, thrusting deep and slow; then fast and shallow. He never made it easy, he kept you guessing and kept you on the edge. 

Your reflection shows everything. The way your thighs tremble, slick glistening on his fingers, the helpless part to your lips every time he brushes your sweet spot just right.

Your head tipped back, but he caught your chin and tilted it forward again.

“No,” he growls softly, mouth close to your ear. “Don’t look away. Watch yourself come apart for me.”

And you do.

The wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you are filthy, echoing faintly in the quiet room. Your moans come faster, louder, your legs buckling as the intensity builds, but his arm is there, holding you close, his presence a steady force behind your unraveling.

“Such a mess,” he whispers against your neck, his breath warm. “You love it, don’t you? Love watching yourself like this.”

You nod desperately. “Y-Yes, fuck, I—“

He cuts you off with a sharp curl of his fingers, and your body practically jolts. Your hands fly to the mirror for balance, leaving a foggy print on the glass as your thighs shake with need.

Then, just as you think he’s going to take you over the edge, he stops.

Your body cries out in frustration, hips rolling against him uselessly as he pulls his fingers out with a wet sound. You whimper, broken, aching, turning to face him.

But Hongjoong merely smirks, slowly bringing his slick fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

And in the mirror, you see it. the shift. The way his patience snaps, and desire takes control. He’s not teasing anymore. He’s about to ruin you.

He turns you gently but firmly, bending you forward just far enough to press your palms flat against the mirror, your body arched perfectly for him.

Behind you, you hear the sound of his belt unfastening, the slow, deliberate, unzip of his pants, and it shoots another wave of heat through your already aching core.

“Keep your eyes on yourself,” his voice a sultry blend of velvet and fire. “I want you to see exactly how good I fuck you.”

You barely manage a nod before you feel the thick press of him at your entrance. Your breath hitches, your eyes lock with his one last time before he thrusts in, all the way.

Your gasp turns into a moan, loud and wanton, as he fills you completely, offering you no time to adjust. His hands grip your hips tightly, grounding himself as he begins to move; deep, rhythmic strokes that rock your body forward with every thrust.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, watching the way your mouth falls open, the way your breasts bounce with each movement, the wet slap of your bodies echoing through the room. “So tight. So fucking perfect. Made for me.”

Your legs tremble under the intensity, but he’s right there, one hand sliding from your waist to between your legs again, fingers finding your clit and circling mercilessly.

“You’re gonna come for me just like this,” he says lowly into your ear. “Bent over, dripping, looking like the prettiest little mess.”

Your cries get louder, your body tensing, the overwhelming mix of pressure and pleasure building fast. It gets rougher, more deliberate, each stroke angled to hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

You grip the mirror, breath fogging the glass, whimpering as climax crests hard and fast.

“Joong—fuck—I’m—!”

“Let go, baby.” he growls. “Come for me. Show me.”

The orgasm rips through you, leaving you shaking, moaning his name like a prayer. Your thighs quiver, your knees nearly buckling, but he holds you through every wave, never stopping, fucking you with slow, dragging thrusts that draw it out beautifully.

He followed not long after, the tight pull of your body around him was too hard to resist. He buries himself deep with a guttural moan of your name, spilling inside you as his hand tangles in your hair and his mouth presses to your shoulder.

Hongjoong holds you there for a moment longer, his lips leaving slow, featherlight kisses along your cheek and jaw as your breathing evens out. His hand rubs gentle circles on your back, grounding you, coaxing you down from the high with every soft word and touch.

Then, gently, he pulls out, hands smoothing across you while he turns you around and brings you into his arms.

“Too much?” he whispers, voice lower now, laced with something tender.

You shake your head, dazed and blissed-out, letting your arms wrap around his neck. “No. Not even close.”

He chuckles softly, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes warm now, full of affection. “Come here,” he says, guiding you over to the nearest couch.

You sit with him, legs draped over his lap, he grabs a small cloth from a side table, dampening it with water from a chilled bottle he finds.

The soft care in his movements as he cleans you up, as he straightens your outfit and smooths your hair, is a stark but comforting contrast to the chaos of a few minutes ago.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Even like this. Especially like this.”

You lean in, pressing a kiss to his jaw, and for a while you just rest, bodies tangled, breathing synced, the low hum of music from the reception muffled through the walls.

Eventually, he glances at the door. “We should probably get back before someone sends a search party.”

You both share a quiet laugh, reluctant to move, but he stands first and reaches for your hand, helping you to your feet. Together, you do a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting clothes, fixing your hair, smoothing any lingering signs of what just happened.

He gives you one last look, a mischievous little smile playing on his lips. “We look… decently innocent.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “Let’s just not walk too fast.”

[sungchoi]

The View .

pairing: kim hongjoong x fem!reader

synopsis: one lingering touch from your old friend and hongjoongs patience snaps. He pulls you aside, leaning in close. "You really like to push me, huh?"

genre/warnings: est. relationship, smut, fingering, dirty talk, swearing, unprotected sex (always wear protection!), mirror sex, teasing

wc : 3k

It’s the day of your friend's wedding. You and Hongjoong arrived not too long ago, greeting everyone as you made your way to your reserved table.

Once you’re settled in, a sudden craving for something sweet hits you. Since the food service hasn’t started yet, you figure there’s no harm in sneaking a little treat.

Leaning in so Hongjoong can hear you better, you say, “Hey Joong, I’m gonna run to the food bar real quick to grab something,”

Hongjoong glances over at you with a teasing smile, “Alright, don’t be gone too long. Try not to spoil your appetite before dinner.”

You giggled, pushing your chair in as you stood. “No promises.”

As you make your way over to the food bar, warm lights shine over neat rows of desserts. Mini cupcakes, chocolate-covered strawberries, and pastel macarons catch your eye. They were all too tempting to ignore. You grab a small plate and begin picking a few favorites, trying your best not to go overboard. 

Just as you’re reaching for a cupcake, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.”

You pause and turn around; your eyes widen slightly as you take in the familiar face.

“No way,” you exclaimed with surprised laughter “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Standing there is an old friend, someone you were close with in highschool, and maybe had a fling with, before life eventually pulled you in different directions. They’ve changed just enough for you to notice, but they still carry that same familiar energy.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” they say, grinning. “You look incredible.”

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks, whether from the compliment or the sudden spark in the air. “You too. I didn’t know you knew the bride and groom.”

“Groom’s my cousin,” they say with a shrug, picking up a chocolate truffle. “You?”

“Bride’s a longtime friend,” you reply, holding up your plate. “And apparently I still can’t resist the dessert table.”

“Same,” they say, plucking a strawberry from a platter. “But I think I might’ve found something sweeter.”

You laugh, a little flustered but playing it off as you look away, turning your attention back to your plate.

You can feel the buzz of that brief connection linger; that old rhythm clicking back into place. Sweet and nostalgic.

As you start to say your goodbyes, they lean in slightly, placing a hand on your arm, just a light touch, but stays a second too long.

“It was really good seeing you again,” their eyes begin searching yours. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to catch up properly later?”

You offer a polite smile, trying to ignore the familiar warmth of their fingers on your skin. “Maybe. Enjoy the wedding!”

They finally pull back with a knowing grin, and you turn, walking back to your table with the dessert plate in hand.

As you approach the table, you find Hongjoong already watching you. His posture relaxed, but his gaze sharp, focused. Tracking. He doesn’t say anything until you sit down beside him.

“Took your time,” he remarks casually, but the edge in his tone doesn’t quite match the softness of his smile.

You glance over at him. “Ran into someone I used to know.”

His brow lifts slightly. “That so?”

You nod, setting the plate down. “Old friend. Haven’t seen them in years.”

Hongjoongs eyes flicker towards the food bar, where your friend is still hovering nearby. He doesn’t say anything right away, but the silence stretches just long enough to feel noticeable. Then, he shifts closer, one hand slipping onto your thigh under the table, gentle, but firm.

“You seemed pretty cozy,” he says quietly, voice low enough for only you to hear.

You turn your head toward him, heart skipping at the closeness. “It was just a hello. Nothing more.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” he murmurs, his hand giving your leg a slow, deliberate squeeze. “You sure about that?”

The playfulness in his voice is still there, but its tinged with something deeper—protectiveness, maybe.

You smile faintly, placing your hand over his. “Joong, I’m sitting here with you. That should tell you everything you need to know.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, like he’s weighing the truth of your words. Then, his hand slides upward just a little, fingers brushing along the edge of your dress, leaning in close, lips nearly brushing your ear.

“Good,” he whispers. “Because I don’t like sharing.”

A subtle thrill runs through you at the low, teasing threat in his voice. And yet, beneath it, there’s tenderness too. The way his hand stays curled around yours under the table, the way his thumb draws soft circles against your skin.

𝜗𝜚

Speeches began as soon as everyone received their food, passing with soft music, laughter, and clinking glasses.

Every now and then, you’d feel Hongjoongs hand rest on your leg, subtle yet possessive.

By the time the speeches are done, the dance floor begins to fill. Hongjoong leans over to whisper something in your ear, his lips brushing your skin just enough to make your breath catch.

Your old friend shows up again, grinning, clearly tipsy, strolling toward you with that same overconfident charm.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” flashing a smile that lingers a little too long. “Dance with me?”

You pause, then glance at Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye. He’s watching quietly, his fingers curled loosely around his drink. Calm. Still. But not blinking.

You smile sweetly at your friend. “Sure, why not?”

As you stand, you catch the subtle shift in Hongjoongs jaw.

On the dance floor, your friend wastes no time getting closer. Hand settling just a little too high on your waist, thumb brushing over the exposed skin on your back. You feel it. Letting it happen. Maybe even lean in a little more than necessary when they whisper something in your ear, laughing lightly like you don’t notice their fingers sliding along your spine.

You’re fully aware of how close you are. Of the eyes watching you from across the room.

Especially his.

And when your friend’s hand slips lower, you don’t flinch. Instead, you turn your head just enough that Hongjoong see’s the smirk tugging at your lips.

He sets his drink down.

Stands.

Moves.

You don’t even have time to pretend to be surprised before he’s behind you, his arm sliding smoothly around your waist.

“Mind if I steal my date back?” not even glancing at your friend.

You give him a slow smile, your voice soft and teasing. “Steal away.”

Hongjoong’s hand stays firmly on your waist as he leads you away, steering you with effortless confidence across the dance floor, down the hall, and away from the crowd. The moment you’re out of view, he stops, backing you into the wall with a low, amused breath.

“You think I didn’t notice that little game?” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

You tilt your head, eyes bright. “What game?”

A slow, dark smile crawls across his face. “Don’t play dumb, baby. You wanted to see how far I’d let it go.”

“And?” trailing your fingers up his chest slowly.

He leans in, his nose brushing against yours. “I think you forgot who you belong to.”

Before you can even respond, his mouth crashes into yours. Hungry. Rough. Possessive. The kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving no room for questions about who’s in control now. His hands roam your sides, sliding over your hips, like he’s claiming you all over again, grounding you to him as he explores you with his hands.

He doesn’t stop.

He laces your fingers with his and pulls you into a nearby room that’s dimly lit and quiet, the reception noises muffled by the thick door he locks behind you. The second it clicks shut, he pushes you gently against the wall, with one hand curling around your thigh to hoist it around his waist.

His lips find your neck, biting, a gentle suck, and tasting.

“You really like to push me, huh?” he mutters into your skin.

Your only response is the way your hips roll forward, meeting his with a teasing grind that earns a low growl deep inside him.

That’s all he needed. His mouth finds yours again, more desperate this time, while his hands move to slide up your legs, your sides, exploring like he wants to memorize every inch of you. The room seems to grow warmer, smaller, almost like it’s holding its breath for the two of you.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs against your mouth, “How hard it was to sit there and pretend I wasn’t losing my mind.”

“Seeing the way they looked at you, like they had a chance. Touched you like they didn’t know any better. But I’m the one you always come back to.”

You nod, fingers gripping his jacket. “Only you.”

His jacket comes off, your fingers tugging at his shirt like it’s muscle memory. There’s zero awkwardness or pause. Just two people who are all too familiar with one another. Two people who have been holding back for too long. Every touch is bold, every kiss is fiery.

And when he finally whispers your name against your skin, low and breathless, it’s not just possessive, but almost reverent. Like he’s reminding both you and himself that you’re his. Fully.

You barely register it when he lifts you with ease, carrying you across the room. He sets you in front of a full-length mirror tucked into the corner, the soft lighting casting a golden glow on both your reflections.

You look up, the sight of the two of you nearly takes your breath away. His dark eyes locked into yours, hands trailing down your sides, lips softly kissing your shoulder.

“Keep looking,” he murmurs, the husky timbre of his voice dripping in raw desire. “I want you to see how beautiful you look when you fall apart for me.”

He moves behind you, gently urging you to part your legs, spreading just enough for the both of you to watch as his fingers slide between your thighs.

“Look how wet you are already, baby,” he groans, slowly dragging his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the slickness teasingly. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

The mirror shows every little quiver, every soft gasp as he circles your clit and keeps you on that edge, but not giving it to you yet, still playing with you, still holding back. You squirm under his touch, already desperate from the teasing he’s been giving you all night. He knows what he’s doing, no doubt, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the mirror, watching his fingers dance between your legs.

Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers push into you, slow and deliberate, pulling a moan from your throat.

Your body jolts slightly as the pressure is a delicious shock, and he pauses there, letting you adjust. His gaze meets yours in the mirror again, dark and steady. He starts to move his fingers at a maddening pace, not fast, just deep. Every drag makes you tremble even more, your legs threatening to give out.

You try to grind your hips against his hand, yearning for more, but he tsks softly tightens his hold around your waist, keeping you still.

“You’ll have to beg for it, princess,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “Say it. Tell me what you want.”

The look in his eyes leaves no room for denial. He wants to hear it; he wants to own it. Your mouth falls open, the need making your voice shaky as you finally give him what he wants.

“Please,” You whisper, your breath catching in your throat as he curls his fingers just right inside of you.

He doesn’t move yet, he just watches you in the mirror, one brow raised, waiting.

You swallow, heat pooling in your core. “Please, Joong. I want more… I want you.”

A dark smile tugs at his lips, pleased with your surrender. “There she is.”

Without another word, he moves. His fingers pick up pace, thrusting deep and slow; then fast and shallow. He never made it easy, he kept you guessing and kept you on the edge. 

Your reflection shows everything. The way your thighs tremble, slick glistening on his fingers, the helpless part to your lips every time he brushes your sweet spot just right.

Your head tipped back, but he caught your chin and tilted it forward again.

“No,” he growls softly, mouth close to your ear. “Don’t look away. Watch yourself come apart for me.”

And you do.

The wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you are filthy, echoing faintly in the quiet room. Your moans come faster, louder, your legs buckling as the intensity builds, but his arm is there, holding you close, his presence a steady force behind your unraveling.

“Such a mess,” he whispers against your neck, his breath warm. “You love it, don’t you? Love watching yourself like this.”

You nod desperately. “Y-Yes, fuck, I—“

He cuts you off with a sharp curl of his fingers, and your body practically jolts. Your hands fly to the mirror for balance, leaving a foggy print on the glass as your thighs shake with need.

Then, just as you think he’s going to take you over the edge, he stops.

Your body cries out in frustration, hips rolling against him uselessly as he pulls his fingers out with a wet sound. You whimper, broken, aching, turning to face him.

But Hongjoong merely smirks, slowly bringing his slick fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

And in the mirror, you see it. the shift. The way his patience snaps, and desire takes control. He’s not teasing anymore. He’s about to ruin you.

He turns you gently but firmly, bending you forward just far enough to press your palms flat against the mirror, your body arched perfectly for him.

Behind you, you hear the sound of his belt unfastening, the slow, deliberate, unzip of his pants, and it shoots another wave of heat through your already aching core.

“Keep your eyes on yourself,” his voice a sultry blend of velvet and fire. “I want you to see exactly how good I fuck you.”

You barely manage a nod before you feel the thick press of him at your entrance. Your breath hitches, your eyes lock with his one last time before he thrusts in, all the way.

Your gasp turns into a moan, loud and wanton, as he fills you completely, offering you no time to adjust. His hands grip your hips tightly, grounding himself as he begins to move; deep, rhythmic strokes that rock your body forward with every thrust.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, watching the way your mouth falls open, the way your breasts bounce with each movement, the wet slap of your bodies echoing through the room. “So tight. So fucking perfect. Made for me.”

Your legs tremble under the intensity, but he’s right there, one hand sliding from your waist to between your legs again, fingers finding your clit and circling mercilessly.

“You’re gonna come for me just like this,” he says lowly into your ear. “Bent over, dripping, looking like the prettiest little mess.”

Your cries get louder, your body tensing, the overwhelming mix of pressure and pleasure building fast. It gets rougher, more deliberate, each stroke angled to hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

You grip the mirror, breath fogging the glass, whimpering as climax crests hard and fast.

“Joong—fuck—I’m—!”

“Let go, baby.” he growls. “Come for me. Show me.”

The orgasm rips through you, leaving you shaking, moaning his name like a prayer. Your thighs quiver, your knees nearly buckling, but he holds you through every wave, never stopping, fucking you with slow, dragging thrusts that draw it out beautifully.

He followed not long after, the tight pull of your body around him was too hard to resist. He buries himself deep with a guttural moan of your name, spilling inside you as his hand tangles in your hair and his mouth presses to your shoulder.

Hongjoong holds you there for a moment longer, his lips leaving slow, featherlight kisses along your cheek and jaw as your breathing evens out. His hand rubs gentle circles on your back, grounding you, coaxing you down from the high with every soft word and touch.

Then, gently, he pulls out, hands smoothing across you while he turns you around and brings you into his arms.

“Too much?” he whispers, voice lower now, laced with something tender.

You shake your head, dazed and blissed-out, letting your arms wrap around his neck. “No. Not even close.”

He chuckles softly, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes warm now, full of affection. “Come here,” he says, guiding you over to the nearest couch.

You sit with him, legs draped over his lap, he grabs a small cloth from a side table, dampening it with water from a chilled bottle he finds.

The soft care in his movements as he cleans you up, as he straightens your outfit and smooths your hair, is a stark but comforting contrast to the chaos of a few minutes ago.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Even like this. Especially like this.”

You lean in, pressing a kiss to his jaw, and for a while you just rest, bodies tangled, breathing synced, the low hum of music from the reception muffled through the walls.

Eventually, he glances at the door. “We should probably get back before someone sends a search party.”

You both share a quiet laugh, reluctant to move, but he stands first and reaches for your hand, helping you to your feet. Together, you do a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting clothes, fixing your hair, smoothing any lingering signs of what just happened.

He gives you one last look, a mischievous little smile playing on his lips. “We look… decently innocent.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “Let’s just not walk too fast.”

[sungchoi]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ! ࿐ྂ

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ about sungchoi !

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ fic masterlist

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ latest work : Ruin You .

[sungchoi]

𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mark lee x f! reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to almost lovers, college au, fwb au, angst (a lot)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, smut, use of alcohol, reader feels a lot of self doubt

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you and mark had been close friends since your senior year of high school, and now, as sophomores in college, acknowledging your mutual attraction felt mature — logical, even. transitioning to friend with benefits was effortless — no strings attached, no complications. it was perfect for the both of you..until it wasn’t.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: coming soon!

[sungchoi]

𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mark lee x f! reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to almost lovers, college au, fwb au, angst (a lot)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, smut, use of alcohol, reader feels a lot of self doubt

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you and mark had been close friends since your senior year of high school, and now, as sophomores in college, acknowledging your mutual attraction felt mature — logical, even. transitioning to friend with benefits was effortless — no strings attached, no complications. it was perfect for the both of you..until it wasn’t.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: coming soon!

[sungchoi]

our fics ✧･ﾟ:*

nct (all units)

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ love me not (mark x f! reader)

ateez

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ The View . (Hongjoong x Fem!reader)

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Stay In (San x GN!reader)

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Ruin You . (Mingi x Fem!Reader)

other members coming soon ♡