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[ta3mint]

Omg please make a part 2 of unbearable where they go down for food and have the other members reactions, it would be so good 😭

Unbearable: Epilogue 

Contains: what happens after the events of Part 1

Warnings: Minors do not interact! vague mentions of sex, mostly humorous comments, Felix doing his best, not proofread

Word Count: 540

Leaving the bathroom at the same time as Minho was probably a bad idea. Although, it honestly may not have been any better if you had left separately anyway.

Even from behind Minho, who was still trying to regulate his breathing, you could tell everyone was in their spots a little too perfectly.

Felix was staring at his plate on the couch, looking very tense and not eating anything. Seungmin was hastily getting two plates ready for yourself and Minho. Jisung, Jeongin, and Hyunjin were all eating with their mouths stuffed completely full so they conveniently wouldn't be able to speak. And finally, Changbin and Chan were sitting across from each other on the floor, gripping the playing cards in their hands a little too hard. The thick silence was what really sealed the deal for you. Never in all the time you had known them had you heard them this quiet. It was kind of nerve-wracking, honestly.

Chan was the first to speak, which wasn't too surprising.

"I think Seungmin is getting plates ready for you guys. I mean it's probably cold by now but- uh yeah, you know. I'm sure you're hungry."

Changbin held up his cards to halfheartedly cover the smile that was creeping up on him.

"Yeah, I'm usually hungry after I work out too."

Hyunjin giggled like a school girl and Felix choked on the first bite of his food you had seen him take this whole time.

You felt your face flood with heat and Minho turned to look at you over his shoulder.

"Ignore them. It's just payback for all the times they've kept me up watching porn on full blast."

The room fell silent again, and you let out a small laugh.

"Boys will be boys, I suppose."

Minho grabbed your hand and led you to the kitchen where Seungmin was still standing with your food.

He shoved it towards you across the counter, and you glanced at him. His face was the most normal out of the seven of them, and it relieved you a bit.

"I heated it up for you guys. I hope you like it. It's from that new barbecue place a few blocks away."

You nodded at him to thank him and he smiled at you.

Minho grabbed his plate with one hand and your hand with his other one, leading you back the way you came to the couch.

Felix moved over to make room for you guys, and you smiled at him, gripping Minho's hand tightly. It really felt nice.

A sudden look of excitement appeared on Felix's face and he turned to you.

"So are you guys like, together now? Or maybe you don't know! That's okay too, I just think it would be really cute and I'm happy for you guys! Am I talking too much? Just tell me to shut up if I am, okay? You don't have to be embarrassed because having sex is totally natural-"

"Felix," Minho said quietly from beside you, not looking up from his fork full of food.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Felix nodded vigorously, shoving food into his mouth and looking down.

Across the room, Jeongin groaned.

"I think I liked it better when you guys argued."

[ta3mint]

Wolfish

warnings: unprotected sex(i literally write nothing else unless asked otherwise), feral chan, oral(f receiving), breeding kink cuz im gross, slight impreg kink for the same reason, overstimulation, mind breaking (kinda mutal), slapping(once and chan receives it), desperate overall kinda sex, squirting, mention of the title daddy once, few pet names, lots of filth pretty much, reader refers to him as ‘chris’ in speech

summary: schedule has been crazy and chan hasn’t been able to see you as much as he’d like to. it’s starting to get to him. all that changes when he decides to leave practice early and finds you in the dorm parading around in just his t-shirt.

chan x female reader

word count: 6.3k (i got carried away)

Chan was exhausted. For more reasons than one. Schedules were rolling into one another with no real sign of stopping. Practices seemed to last longer than usual, dragging to a point where he could feel every second ticking by. His internal thought was wracked with melodies, lyrics, and rhythms bouncing off the walls of his skull leaving him with no semblance of peace. To complete the myriad of his stress masterpiece, he was missing you. 

It was nearing three weeks of minimal contact with you and he was beginning to feel guilty in addition to everything else he was feeling. Every moment he had a chance to glance at his phone, it would be ripped from him just as quickly—the text that he was typing dying at his fingertips. 

You understood what you were agreeing to when you decided to not only let Chan into your life but to let him in as your partner. You didn’t mind these long stretches of time where you didn’t get to see him. In fact, you almost preferred it. Allowing you to really indulge in the time you got to spend with him with nary an interruption. No matter how many times you reminded him of this, it still ate away at his emotions. Making him feel like this was yet another area in his life where he felt his promises were not being fulfilled, ultimately making him feel less than.

You had flown out to Seoul in an attempt to surprise him and hopefully pick up his spirits, but with all the craziness of upcoming schedules you, unfortunately, came at a time where you didn’t get to see him as often as you thought. You understood though. Not holding it against him. Chan also more than appreciated being able to nestle up to your body when he finally trucked into the dorms early in the morning finding it easier to sleep with you near him. He felt an unspoken comfort with you around that he needed more than he realized.

With a five hour dance practice finally wrapping up, Chan moved in silence. Grabbing his belongings he came to the conclusion that he needed a bit of a break. A moment to decompress from everything. Letting out a sigh he turned back around to the boys informing them of his next moves.

“So…I was going to go to the studio after we were finished here, but I think I need a break honestly. It’s all a little bit too much right now.”

Everyone went a bit silent, feeling the tense energy radiating off of him. Felix took the opportunity to offer a hand recognizing that Chan was in a funk, in a feeble attempt to ask if he was okay.

“You sure you’re good, man? Like you don’t need anything from us?”

Not wanting to pry too much knowing how his emotions could fire up from nowhere, he was trying his best to keep it open ended.

“Yeah. I just prolly need to sleep or something.”

“Okay. If anything we’re here for you. And I’m sure Y/N will be more than willing to help you with anything you need.”

He knew Felix meant well, but it just struck a nerve in him that ultimately made him feel worse. Feeling like even when he was supposed to enjoy spending time with you, you were always snubbed to “taking care” of him when it should’ve been the other way around. Sighing, Chan closed his eyes and nodded.

“Yeah–alright, I’ll see you guys back at the dorm later.”

With quiet goodbyes, Chan left the practice room and walked towards the exit of the JYP building where someone would be waiting to take the boys home when needed. No questions were asked as he looked at the driver silently signaling that he was in need of being taken back to the dorms. The ride back was even more silent. Every self deprecating and stressful thought ran through his mind like a traumatic PowerPoint stuck on a loop. The buildings passing by were just distant figures in his vision no matter how close they actually were.

The car finally came to a stop and Chan lowly thanked the driver before getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of the dorms. He didn’t realize he took the stairs until he was already halfway up to the floor he was supposed to be on. Laughing through his nose he shook his head.

“I can’t even pay attention to where I’m going, my gosh.”

Reaching the floor he was supposed to be on, he opened the door and walked down the hallway to the dorm. Approaching the front door, he could hear music playing inside and a small smile designed his face, wondering what it was you were doing on the other side. Opening the door, he entered and kicked his shoes off immediately. The confines of his shoes adding to his irritation unknowingly. He dropped his bag at the front door as well, not wanting to be bothered with dragging it to his bedroom.

Turning the corner he was acquainted with you in your own little world dancing to the music playing from a speaker that was perched on the island of the kitchen. His smile slowly faded into something a little more lustful when your figure moved from behind the island, showing that you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts and some underwear. He walked up to you and slipped his hands around your torso, his hands connecting over your tummy.

It startled you, to say the least, but only for a quick second before you settled into his touch recognizing it was him.

“Chris! You scared the shit outta me. What are you doing home so early? Where are the rest of the boys?”

Chan just hummed not answering you right away, swaying you against him. You rested your hands on top of his and tried to turn your head to see him resting his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t get the look at him that you wanted, so you tried to move to turn around and look at him, but Chan just held your body tighter and closer to him. 

“Don’t move, I’ll tell you in a second.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling concerned with how his mannerisms were. Before if you could ask if he was okay he inhaled to speak.

“Just…really tired. Schedules and all that and I also kinda feel like a bad boyfriend.”

Hearing that, you just couldn’t stay in the position he was trying so desperately to keep you in. You turned around and cupped his face to bring it up to face your own. As quickly as you turned around, he dropped his head not ready to face you. You moved your head to look at him but he was refusing.

“Chris…where’s all this coming from? How are you being a bad boyfriend?”

He sighed, taking another long silence before he spoke.

“Ch-”

“-I’m never around. And, you came to see me and you can’t see me because I’m literally never here. And when you do see me I feel like, you feel like you just have to take care of me and I can’t help but feel like an ass for that.”

“Chris, c’mon. You know I’d never feel that way.”

“See! Like that. I know what you're gonna say next and it just doesn’t make it any better because I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

Dropping your hands you dropped your head as well, having a hunch where you could tell where this was going.

“Chris, I knew what I was getting into from jump when I said yes to being yours. And it’s my fault for not telling you I was gonna come out here. You had so much going on that you didn’t mention it and that’s okay! I’m not upset about any of that let alone upset with you. Stop beating yourself up.”

He stepped away, running his hand through his hair.

“You’re missing the point.”

You furrowed your brow and grabbed your phone off the counter to lower the volume of the music. 

“What point am I missing exactly?”

“That you deserve better than me and I need to do better and you-”

“-Hold on, stop right there because you’re already off track.”

“No! You’re not hearing me Y/N.”

The last thing you expected was for him to get loud. You knew Chan didn’t regulate his emotions as he should, but you didn’t think he would take them out on you. You pressed your lips together and slowly it formed into a frown. You knew he didn’t mean it but nonetheless, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Chan was standing with his hand over his eyes, seemingly even more stressed than when he came in and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

“I’m gonna just, give you a moment and let this kinda settle because I know how you can get.”

You turned to walk out of the kitchen and began to walk towards his bedroom to wait for him. But before you could even make it out of the kitchen, Chan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, halting you in your tracks. His breath was heavy like he was trying to calm a panic attack and his eyes were blown.

“Don’t. Don’t walk away right now. Please.”

“Chris, the last thing I want right now is to add to your stress so I think it’s-”

“Y/N!, No it’s not what’s best right now! I need you and you’re trying to walk away from me. What aren’t you getting from that.”

Now you were looking at him as if he was mad. You had never seen him act out in such a way and especially with you. It left you confused and moreover concerned for him. But now you were on track with getting annoyed. He was leaving you with little explanation expecting you to just understand verbatim what he needed without telling you. Any time you tried to speak he cut you off and was actively creating more conflict. 

“Chris. I don’t want us to do this right now.”

You tried to step away again but your body ended up pressed against the counter. Chan’s body pressed so closely into yours it was almost like he was trying to become one with you. His brows furrowed and he dropped his head again, his breathing picking up once more.

“I. Need. You.”

You were unsure of where to step. He was unhinging himself by the second. Leaving you stuck in a hard place on what to do next. He was getting closer to you, pushing himself closer.

“Chris, I don’t know what you need from me unless you tell–why are you hard right now?”

He was almost grinding into you now. His head dipped into your neck again except now there was a different feeling attached to it. He dragged his nose up your neck landing underneath your ear. Biting lightly at your earlobe, his hands moved to your hips gripping at your flesh trying to bring you even closer.

“You smell so good, baby.”

Your breathing began to quicken in response to this change of behavior. Your body reacting a lot more quickly than your brain would allow you to comprehend.

“Wearing just my shirt, what if it wasn’t me that came home early, huh?”

Chan backed up so he could stare at you, trying to read just your expression.

“I-I, you guys have normally been home really late so I just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

“You just wanna show yourself off to them?”

“Nono not at all I just-”

Before you had the chance to explain your case, Chan’s large hands trailed down to your ass, squeezing at the fat. A small moan choked out of you surprised at the action.

“You don’t understand how much I need you, do you?”

Panting, anticipation running through your veins, you looked up into his eyes.

“Why don’t you show me?”

Any control he had left in him, completely dissipated in just five words. Everything that was too hard for him to verbalize no longer had the capacity to stress him out. Your consent finding the perfect way to let him express himself without something to dwell on. His mouth landed on yours, a certain kind of anguish running through the kiss. His hands were all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he could.

You kissed him back with equal intensity. The irritation you previously felt was soon gone as he stopped trying to haphazardly explain his needs to you. He lifted you up onto the counter, placing himself between your legs. Rolling his hips into yours, you could feel his need attempting to break through the cotton of his shorts which sent a heartbeat straight to your core. You could feel him smirk against you as he felt you clench against him, your underwear providing you with little decency to hide. 

“Oh, seems like somebody is a little needy too.”

“Chris, I…”

You didn’t know what came over you but you felt that what you were about to offer would solve what he was feeling at such an overwhelming capacity. You rolled your hips against him, desperate for some type of friction. Looking at him you made sure that he could see the sincerity in your eyes. 

“Use me. Whatever it is that you’re feeling right now, take it out on me. We’ll talk about it later.”

Chan pulled away from you and the Chan you’d become accustomed to made a quick visit, searching your eyes for any hesitation. When he couldn’t find any he spoke wanting every form of confirmation.

“Are you sure? Once I let go I don’t think I can hold back.”

You nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to have him ruin you in whatever way he was imagining. 

“I can take it.”

Verifying your words, Chan picked you up and carried you to his room. Laying you on his bed he hovered over you gazing down at your body. 

“You have, no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Licking your lips you found his eyes

“I’m sure you can show me better than you can tell me, baby.”

His sexual appetite was ravenous and it was more than he could handle. Chan felt as if he was gonna bust at his seams and staring at your body in his shirt made him feel all the more manic. He moved his body down toward the foot of the bed and stared up at you from the apex of your legs. Your scent dripping through the fabric of your underwear. 

“Look at you. Already soaking through your panties for me.”

You whined out, slightly embarrassed by his observation. He had barely done anything and yet everything he did made you feel so enticed and bound to him. 

He brought his hands up to the lining of your underwear and slowly dragged them down your legs, letting them hit the floor. He kissed up your legs ending his travels at the fat of your thighs. Sucking small hickies into your tender skin. 

You moaned out, the sensation of the hickey in that area making you clench a little tighter than you had before. Chan chuckled and noticed the way your body was already beginning to squirm under his touch. Bringing his face closer to your heat, he finally licked a fat stripe up your lips. Your walls clenching uncontrollably at the wanted touch. 

Chan moved his tongue in a way that had you on the brink of orgasm faster than you ever had before. He bounced back between sucking lightly on your clit and circling his tongue around it to break up the intensity. He could tell by the way your breathing changed that you were approaching your climax. Wanting to see you fall apart underneath him, he brought his hand up to tease at your entrance. Prodding just the tip of his fingers inside. 

Your hand made way to his curls. Scrunching at his hair in an attempt to ground yourself from your impending euphoria. He moaned against your pussy, the extra stimulation causing you to clench around nothing yet again. Chan’s fingers finally found their way inside your soaking hole and a loud moan escaped your throat. Unable to control the reaction of how it felt.

Chan moved his fingers in a come hither motion, rubbing at that special little spongy spot inside of you. 

“C’mon baby, cum for me. I can feel you’re almost there.”

His fingers began moving a little faster to be in tandem with his tongue. The double stimulation had you soaring over your inhibitions and you came around his fingers. Squeezing around him uncontrollably. It felt so undeniably good. It had been so long since you two had a moment to have this and he was relishing in it. 

Watching you fall apart in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to see it again. On the come down of your high, his tongue began moving around your clit again. 

“Shit, shit, Chris!” 

He lapped at your arousal, your juices coating his chin. 

“C’mon Y/N, baby. One more. For me?” 

Your back arched from the bed, his tongue sending you tunneling into your pleasure. 

“Fuck, Chris, I’m cumming! 

All he did was moan into you, the vibrations sending you into your second orgasm. The overstimulation hitting you a little harder than usual. When Chan lifted his head up, you watched a bead of wetness fall from his chin. 

“I’m going to make you do that, every fuckin time now. So fuckin sexy.”

You were almost too fucked out to comprehend what he was talking about until you felt a coolness stick to your inner thigh. Your eyes widened in horror. Coming to terms that you just squirted on his face. Panting, you finally found the breath to say something.  

“Holy shit. I did not just do that.” 

“Sure did. Kinda wanna see if I can make you do it again.”

Chan smiled as he dragged his finger up your folds, causing your body to jolt at the stimulation of his finger running across your clit. Your body was covered in goosebumps.  Anticipating his next move. Trying to sit up, you wanted to return the favor, but Chan bound your wrists in his hands pinning you back down to the bed. 

“Nuh uh babygirl. As much as I wanna watch your lips wrap around my cock, I won’t make it.” 

Chan crawled back up to you so you could be face to face with him. 

“And as much as I love you in my clothes…I wanna see all of you while I make you mine. Over and over again. 

His hands pawed up your body and removed you from his shirt. His head came down to leave a trail of kisses starting from your stomach and ending their journey at your nipples. Sucking at your supple flesh, he kneaded your other breast in his hand. You moaned out, back arching slightly as you rubbed your head into the pillow beneath you. You felt so small beneath him. His energy was massive and brooding. He was domineering but still, when you looked into his eyes you could see the softness swirling somewhere beneath it all. 

Your hands found their way back into his hair, gripping at his locks as you rolled your hips up into his painfully hard cock. With each roll, you could feel his cock twitching behind the cotton of his pants. 

“Take it off, baby. For me.”

Your hand trailed down to his pants rubbing over the fabric to play with his cock. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he wiggled out of his pants and threw his shirt somewhere in the room. His hands roamed up your sides again, making you feel smaller than you were. He was eating you alive with just his eyes. Devouring you in every way fathomable before even thinking of entering you. 

He kissed you, with a yearning you hadn’t felt from him before. It was rough yet gentle. Giving and taking all in the same breath. He was grabbing at you like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His hands traveled down to your hips and lifted your lower body up just a bit before worming his way in between your legs.

You moved your hand to stroke his cock earning a loud groan to expel from his throat. He hissed as you played with the head, thumbing over his painfully sensitive slit. Taking his hand to wrap around your wrist, he brought your hands up to your head pinning you to the bed again. He took the tip of his cock and rubbed it back and forth between your folds, teasing you. He wanted you to whine out for him. So he could hear that you needed him just as much as he needed you. 

“Chris, please. Don’t tease me like this.” 

He halted his movements, a smirk spreading across his face.

“I thought you said I could do whatever I wanted. Use you, is how I think you put it.”

An airy laugh left him as you whined out against him, trying to get a tiny moment of friction just to satisfy the ache you were feeling. 

“Use me then, don’t tease me. I need you. I need you inside of me. Want you to ruin me.”

Your voice trailed into something softer as you began to hear yourself and felt a little flustered from it all. You were so desperate for him and he didn’t even have to ask. You were feeding his current ego sending even more blood rushing to his cock. 

“Didn’t even have to ask you to beg. You need me that bad?”

“Yes! Yes, I need you that bad. Please, please stop teasing me and just fuck me already.”

He chuckled. Almost sinister.

“You want me to fuck you, yeah?”

Pushing his tip into your entrance, your breathing picked up and squeezed around him. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna squeeze me out clenching that hard.”

“Please, Chris. It’s been so long.”

Your eyes were pleading. Your body was suddenly hyper aware of how long it had been since you two had been intimate with each other. Your neediness was becoming unbearable. You needed him and he was having too much fun making you squirm. You tried to push yourself onto him further, which prompted Chan to grab your hips and keep you still. 

“Don’t even try it.”

Before you got the chance to respond, Chan sheathed himself fully inside you. The thickness of his cock filling you up deliciously. It had been so long since he was inside you, it feel like he got bigger. His cock was so hard and was filling you up so well. 

“Fuck, you feel so much bigger, baby. Fill me up so well.”

Chan’s head dropped into your neck, rolling his cock in and out of you agonizingly slow. You could feel each ridge of his dick and his groans were so close to your ear that your body just shivered and clenched around me. 

“Chris, fuck. Please move faster. I can’t take this.”

His eyes blew wide as he looked down at you. An animalistic gaze glossing over his pupils. His breath, heavy and his hands squeezing at your body. 

“Want me to move faster, huh? Want me to fuck you dumb is that what you want?”

“Fuck, yes! Please. Please use me however you want fuck. I just need you to m~ah!

Thus began the beating of your precious little cunt at his mercy. He was drilling into you and he brought his hands under your lower back angling your body to hit every spot possible. His pace was erratic and his skin was beginning to become sticky. His tip barreling at your cervix with each thrust, your back was arched so far away from the bed.

Moans were in tandem with each other, being the only real communication now. Bring your body to become friendly with the bed beneath you again, your hands planted themselves into Chan’s back dragging down his skin, needed something to cling on to keep you grounded. 

It felt so good and with the inconsistency of his thrusts, you could tell he was getting close. 

“Fuck, Y/N. Cum with me. I need you to cum with me.” 

You squeezed around him, his words bringing you closer to your peak than you thought.

“'m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine~fuck!”

He picked up the speed and within a blink, you felt his warm seed spread inside of you. You convulsed around him, the feeling of his cum inside of you sending you over your edge. 

“Fuckin shit Y/N. Fuck that felt so good.”

He was panting and so were you, but you needed more. You brought yourself up to your elbows and then moved yourself up enough to be able to turn the both of you over so that you were on top now. His eyes became a little wide, trying to understand what it was you were doing. 

“Y/N, baby you gotta give me a little bit o-”

You cut him off as you sank down on his cock, beginning to overstimulate him.

“I need more of you, Chris. I need so much of you, fuck!”

 You rode him like you never had before. You were beyond desperate, chasing your fourth release of the night. His cock was hitting all new angles and made you feel even more full than you did moments prior. You were overstimulating him and his moans were doing nothing but stirring you on. As you bounced on him, the mixture of both of your arousals was dripping down his cock and pooling near his pelvis. 

His moans were getting louder and louder, letting you know that he was getting close. For a moment you felt the power roles shift. And for just that moment you wanted to relish in it. Running your hand down his chest, you ran over his nipple before bringing your hand up to rest on his collarbone deciding your next move. 

“Aww, look at you being taken care of. Bet you like this don’t you?”

Chan looked up and groaned at you, not really indulging in what you were saying as the mind fucked atmosphere shared between the two of you was beginning to cloud his mind. You don’t know where it came from, but as quick as the idea came, it went. You brought your hand back into the air, only to have it land across his cheek the sound sending shock waves to your previous confidence. 

“I asked you a question.”

Chan smiled with his tongue in his cheek, amused by your little number. 

“You think you’re cute don’t you?”

Submissive nature found its way back into you, the demeanor Chan was radiating sent you back to its familiar nature. 

“I asked you a question Y/N…what’s the matter?” You panicked internally, knowing you just fucked up royally and that you were about to get your ass handed to you. His hands grabbed at the fat of your thighs, crippling any dominance that was lingering in you. His eyes were near black, his pupils dilated so far that the color of his iris was something only your memory could provide. 

“You’re brave, I’ll give you that. And I won’t lie, I liked it. But I think you need a bit of a reminder of who’s in charge.”

 In an instant, Chan had taken your body and flipped you on your hands and knees. He was rougher than he had been all night. Carnality his only motive. He grabbed your hips again to position you how he wanted. He was stalking behind you and every breath he took landed back on your neck, sending shivers down your skin. Impatient and anxious of what he was planning next. 

His large hand trailed down your back until he laced it in your hair gripping at the root to control your body to his liking. You moved with him, finding yourself being pressed against his chest. Chan rested his chin on your shoulder and nibbled at your earlobe, the sensation causing you to push back into him and feel his cock standing on edge again. 

“I’m going to fuck you now in a way that will ruin you for anybody else. Understand?”

Not putting any faith in your voice, you nodded as best you could with Chan’s grip on your hair.

“Y/N…words.”

“Yes, yes I understand.”

You pushed your hips down again trying to feel something. Surprisingly Chan reciprocated, thrusting his cock between your thighs, slightly grazing in between your folds. You whined out needing him to be inside of you again.

“Chris, please fuck me.”

“Okay princess, but only because you said please.”

His tone was condescending and it sent a new kind of excitement rushing to your core. Chan let go of his tight grip on your hair and let you fall forward back onto the bed. He lined himself up with your entrance not wasting any time with teasing which you were silently thanking him for.

He always filled you up so nicely. No matter how many times you had him, the feeling of him sliding in and bottoming out always felt as good as the first time. You were too gone to care about how you sounded, your moans overpowering his as he fully slipped himself into you. 

The pace he was setting was unrelenting and feral. Pounding himself so that your cunt would mold perfectly to the shape of him. His hand found itself in your hair again but instead of pulling you up he was smushing your face into the sheets beneath you. 

“Who’s pussy is this, huh?”

You whimpered and squeezed around him, not prepared for him to start talking. Displeased with your silence he asked again, punctuating each word with a thrust that was harder than the last. 

“Answer. Me. Who’s. Pussy. Is. This?”

You screamed out, the stimulation becoming almost too much. 

“Fuck! It’s yours! It’s your pussy, Chris.”

Tears were beginning to well in your eyes and fall across your nose, melting into the bed sheets. Without warning, Chan pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back. The lack of his cock inside of you pulled whines out of you. Your tears fell a little more rapidly as you were so close to another orgasm and it was just stolen from you. Chan moved the hair from your face and stared down at you. He reentered you and your back arched, any stimulation bring you so close to your edge. An arrogant smile decorated his mouth as he saw your tear stains and wet lashes. 

“Aww, is it too much for your little pussy, baby? Need me to stop?”

“Nonono. N-need your c-cock. Please, daddy. Please.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me”

A rigid pace attacked your flowery cunt, overstimulating you immediately. Chan’s thumb found your delicate clit and started to rub soft circles. You moaned out loudly, your throat feeling hoarse from all the damage you were inflicting on it. You grabbed at the sheets, Chan’s back, anything you could to keep you on the bed. It was too much. It felt too good. 

“Look at my pretty baby. Can’t even take all of me anymore. Crying all over my cock. Gonna cum soon baby?”

You nodded and whimpered out a small yes trying to focus on every sensation that was ripping through you at this moment.

“Where do you want me, baby?”

You opened your eyes, staring at him showing how desperate you really were.

“I-inside. Inside me.”

Chan groaned out and picked up the pace of his thrusts. The thought of him cumming inside of you always bringing him right to the precipice of ecstasy. 

“Yeah, want me to fill you up till you can’t take any more of me? Till I’m spilling out of you.”

You clenched around him so hard you were almost pushing him out of you. His words amplified everything you were feeling.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

Chan was beginning to feel the mind fog of sex again and he was saying anything that came to mind. Unlocking doors for you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Want me to fill you up and make you a fuckin mommy, huh?”

Your eyes blew wide before they rolled back immersing you completely in the pleasure you were feeling. 

“Chris, fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna cum again! Fill me up again. Wanna feel all of you~ah!”

“Fuck Y/N. Take it. Take it all.”

Chan’s hand came up to your throat pressing on the pressure points just enough to bring you to the brink of your arousal. With one more roll of his thumb, you were squeezing and gushing around him. 

“Fucking shit! Chris!”

His name became a mantra. Something that reminded you that this was real and not a dream. You were really being demolished like this by him. Both of your moans echoed off the walls of his bedroom, making a cacophony of sounds for anyone on the outside to catch. Chan’s thrusts almost transformed into scoops as he blew his seed inside your velvet walls one last time. Making sure that none of it had the chance to escape.

With nothing but heavy breathing and sweat being shared between you two, Chan’s body collapsed onto yours, his head nestling into your neck. Finding the strength to get off of you, he pulled out of you as well. Looking down at your swollen pussy, his cum was leaking out a bit, to which he took two of his fingers to push it back inside of you.

Your body jerked. Completely overstimulated. You shuddered and squeezed around his fingers before he took them out completely.

“Sorry.”

An airy chuckle followed his words as he laid down next to you. Popping back up as he had a thought.

“Wait, lemme go grab something.”

You were too fucked out to respond and honestly were still trying to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, a small smile spreading across your face. Your eyes opened again when you felt Chan’s hand on your leg trying to move them to open a bit more. You saw he had a warm, wet cloth in his hand and opened your legs the rest of the way so he could clean you up. You grimaced at the feeling, still sensitive from all the damage just bestowed on you.

Chan looked up as he heard a small hiss come from you, a small frown starting to take shape on his own face. Finishing the preliminary cleanup, he tossed the rag towards the hamper in his room and he laid back next to you.

“Was I too much? I’m so sorry if it was”

You slowly turned your head, trying to silently let Chan know to not start rambling. You spoke before he could again, in hopes to calm his worries before more could arise. 

“Chris, if it was ever too much I would’ve told you. Think that was the best sex we’ve had in a long time.”

“Really? You’re okay?”

“Look, if that’s what being stressed does to you, by all means, use me whenever because god damn. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before.”

“Okay, as long as you’re okay then I’m alright.”

You turned over to face him and draw shapes onto his chest. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love how we normally are. But that here and there…” 

You trailed off, whistling to end your sentence instead of using words. Chan smiled lightly, moving his hand down to find yours and lace your fingers with his.

“And what was that about making me a mommy?” It was so easy to tease him now, seeing that Chan was starting to relax. Instantly his ears went red and he tried to cover his face.

“Gosh, don’t repeat it back to me.” 

“You’re the one that said it!” 

You both laughed letting the topic fade into the air not wanting to push much further.

“I mean, one day I’d like to.”

You smiled as you looked up at him.

“That would be nice. Not now obviously, but sometime in the future.”

Silence fell over you. You knew he was holding back verbally about how he was feeling and you wanted to make sure that he was alright in full. You squeezed his hand to grab his focus.

“You ready to talk about everything? Or are you still on edge about it?”

He sighed, knowing that there was no way you were gonna let him get away without speaking about his feelings. Even when he thought he could, you always found a way to pull it out of him. 

“Yeah…yeah, I guess I should talk about it.”

You thought for a moment.

“Why don’t we run a bath and you can tell me everything while we’re in there. We’ll clean up and have a therapy session all in one.”

You pointed at your head as if you just discovered the most mind-blowing idea. Chan chuckled as he nodded along. 

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You both got up from the bed and began to gather what you would need after getting out the bath. Before you even choose a set of clothes to put on you heard a voice echo through the dorm that you recognized as Changbin’s.

“Whenever you guys are done fucking, we’re thinking of going to get dinner.”

You both looked at each other, horror and embarrassment filling your faces. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. You closed it and then opened it again, finding your words.

“I hope they didn’t hear all that.”

Chan raised his hands in defeat.

“Let’s just not think or ask about it.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: hope whoever comes across this enjoys it. i had fun writing it! as always requests or asks are currently open :)

[ta3mint]

Euphoria | Lee Minho

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Minho and you definitely do not like each other. No matter what the tabloids say. He’s your friend who argues and bickers like no other but you also crave the taste of him on your tongue. You are people who sling insults at each other from your respective stages, only to find him later painting your skin with sloppy kisses. And that's something you need to work on.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Minho x Reader (female)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 23.2K

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Actors AU, friends with benefits to lovers, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (both male and female receiving), finger fucking, secret relationship, mentions of past relationship and cheating, angst, time jumps

𝐀/𝐍: Hello! I have no control whatsoever. It's tragic. This fic exists because I woke up at 4 in the morning and promptly died over the idea when someone mentioned 'actors' and 'smut' together. It also happened to be when I was in Minho appreciation hours, and hence this monster. Reblog and share your thoughts if you enjoyed the fic!!

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then

J U N E

He thrusts into you at an agonising speed, all grappling hands and searing mouth, while your fingers tangle in his hair. Part of you knows that you should not be doing this, not when just seconds ago you were screaming yourselves hoarse at each other, faces hot in anger as you went along with the same old song and dance.

“But I guess things like that are beneath people like you, right, baby?”

You arch into him with a soft murmur when he bites on your bottom lip, sucking it none too gently in his mouth and soothing the sting with his tongue. It sends frissons of pleasure down your spine, and you get to taste his moan, sweet on your tongue, as you pull on his hair.

“You’re just a self serving jackass, you know that Minho?”

His hands are heavy on your hips, gripping them hard as he lets his tongue lick into your mouth, and the two of you are all heat and fire, neither willing to give an inch. You can hear your blood rushing in your ear, blocking out everything but him, the feel of him, the smell, the way he presses his mouth against yours, hard and unyielding, and you have to hold on to him tight.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And that’s how you ended up here, backed against the cold metal wall of his trailer, because you deliberately came over to pick a fight having been too on edge all morning. Nothing calms you down like riling Minho up, but the tension that’s been coiling tighter ever since you met finally reached its breaking point today, leading to him pining you to the wall.

Or maybe you pulled him to you.

There was want echoed in both of your eyes, that’s for sure.

Either way, you were both equally as guilty even though this was wrong but you just pull him closer, let your hands run over the curves of his biceps straining against those ridiculous wizarding robes and give in, loving the way his teeth bite into your skin, the rasp of his hair on your cheeks. Minho kisses like he talks, confident, demanding and a little rough, and you might have whimpered a little bit when his hand came up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing along the ridge of your cheekbone.

One kiss flows into two, then three, never once losing its intensity, never once losing its harshness and heat and ability to suck the air straight from your lungs. Teeth clack against one another, lips pressed together with a bruising force that makes you see stars, and when he slips his tongue into your mouth it tastes a bit like war and heartbreak, and you want more.

Three turns into four, and he pulls back a little, just the barest brush of lips against yours yet it still sends your heartbeat skittering, and his hand slips to your neck, fingers pressed on your thrumming pulse. Shockwaves seem to originate from that spot, and you let your lips part, just a little bit, in a silent gasp of pleasure.

Five is a whisper of breath, shaky and deep, and you let your hands linger at the nape of his neck, lightly scratching at his scalp in a way that has his nose brushing your cheek, tender and soft. You know how to make him moan with it, how to test that bit of control he never seems to want to let up, and you do it again.

The sixth is a punctuation mark, a full stop at the end of the sentence, sweet and succinct with clumsy lips before you both pull away with wide eyes and harsh breaths.

“Fuck,” he says, running a shaky hand through his hair as he takes a step backwards. It leaves you feeling strangely cold, but you don’t pay too much attention to that, not when fuck seems like the understatement of the year for the mess you have gotten yourselves into here.

Your eyes meet his and you echo his words, because really, what else can you say.

* * *

before: 12 months ago

M A Y

“No,” you say, contemplating, smothering yourself with a pillow just to end this conversation.

On the other end of the line, Liv sighs in a way that you can tell that she’s pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Come on, Y/n. This is a good opportunity.”

“I don’t want a good opportunity,” you say, flopping onto your stomach, “I don’t want anything other than to be left alone. If I go back out there the tabloids will eat this shit up.”

“It’s been six months. Surely people aren’t going to remember that now.”

“Pretty sure people are going to have a hard time forgetting the fact that my ex boyfriend outed me on the red carpet and then broke up with me then and there. In front of the press. On the red carpet,” you emphasise. “My mascara was running down. I was turned into a meme.”

“A lot of celebrities are turned into memes,” Liv points out unhelpfully, and you pull a pillow across your face. “Look, everyone has their ups and downs in this kind of work. Get used to it.”

You scrub a weary hand down your forehead. “You should host a seminar on pep talks, Liv, I’m sure people will learn a thing or two.”

There’s a bit of shuffling around on the other end of the phone and you hear the muffled sound of a door closing. When she speaks, Liv’s voice is the softest you have ever heard it. “You need to start putting yourself back out there, Y/n. These things happen and yeah, it’s mortifying and you want to crawl under a rock, but you’re stronger than that.”

You blink several times, actually pulling your phone away to check the caller ID to make sure, yes, that is in fact Liv, your hardass manager. “That might have been the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips, “Careful, I might cry.”

“Fuck off, Y/n,” she grunts, and the smile widens. “So, will you at least give it a chance?”

Hesitating for a moment, you contemplate the idea. “I could always just move to the countryside and become a dairy farmer instead of going back to acting. I have enough money to do that. You could find a new, competent client who doesn’t have a crisis every other week,” you say slowly.

You can practically see Liv raising a single brow, a look of pure skepticism on her face. “Imagine what the tabloids would say about that,” she says, “Since that’s apparently your basis for making decisions these days.”

“They’d call me a butch, and then let me fade into obscurity with my ten cows,” you answer promptly, and receive a grudging huff of laughter in return.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one,” she says, “Now back to the point at hand, do you agree or not?”

You bite your lip, hugging the pillow close. It would be nice to get back out there, you guess. Despite all the drama, you really do love acting, and while these past few months have been a nice break, you don’t know how much longer you can go without having anything to do. Finally, with a long, drawn out exhale, you relent, “Fine. You can send me the specifics and we’ll see.”

You are not even done with your sentence before you hear the ding of your email notification and you startle out a laugh. “Jesus, were you waiting with your finger on the send button or something?”

“I was confident that I could break you,” she says, smug, and you breathe a laugh again. “It’s just the audition package, but I think you’ll really like this show. It’s a cutesy, no bullshit type sitcom.”

“You know me well.”

“Let me know by tomorrow. I’m giving you twenty four hours to make a firm decision,” she says before hanging up.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at her actions. Liv is a great manager, but she’s definitely got a flair for dramatics.

… And knows exactly what kind of role would be perfect for easing you back into the industry, you grudgingly admit.

It starts off like another one of those generic crime investigation shows where you play a damn good detective who doesn’t play well with others until she meets her new partner, an unknown actress.

Liv was right. It’s the right amount of charming while still keeping with the grittiness that comes with crime shows nowadays, and your character – as well as your yet to be known partner – shuts down at least three instances of perceived sexism in just the first episode.

And you may be reading into things, but you are pretty sure that the two detectives have a thing for each other. A subtextual thing. God, you hope it’s a thing.

It’s a really good show.

Not only is the writing well done but the characters are pretty fleshed out and developed for a pilot episode and you are already tempted to call back Liv with the affirmation that yes, you are willing to go in for the audition. The only thing that’s holding you back is the smug look that you can picture all too well on her face at the news.

You last seven hours, caving after you have had dinner and Liv sounds just as self satisfied as you imagined.

Turns out the reading is in a few days time and Liv says, “I’ll drive you up there myself. I don’t trust you to not run away because of cold feet.”

You sigh, “As always, your faith in me is astounding.”

“We’re driving up the day before and booking a hotel. Start getting your shit together, Y/n.”

And you do, unearthing whatever you think would be suitable enough for being thrown back into the spotlight. If it was up to you you would just wear sweats all day. The morning you were scheduled to leave, you are awoken by an incessant pounding on the door to your apartment at 7:30am.

Not even bothering to throw something over your night slip dress, you stomp over and yank the door open with a belligerent, “What the fuck.”

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Liv demands, placing her hands on her hips. You glare at her weakly through your post sleep haze. Of course Liv would be looking runway ready at 7:30 on a Wednesday, both hair and makeup immaculate as she judges you for looking like an overgrown sewer rat. You are only mildly upset about it.

“You do realise it only takes like two and half hours to drive up to Seoul right? And that the audition is tomorrow?”

Liv merely grunts, and shoulders past you into the living room, though not before shoving a warm thermos in your hands. “Shut up, drink this, and get dressed.”

Unscrewing the cap, you're immediately hit with the scent of fresh coffee, and a strongly brewed one at that. “Seriously?” you ask, eyeing the dark brown sludge Liv likes to drink. She goes through at least four cups a day and you aren't quite sure how she’s still living.

The other woman just gives you a shark-like smile. “Bottoms up,” she smirks as she throws herself down onto the armchair.

You grumble but do as you are told, only to gag at the first taste of it in your mouth. It’s bitter and horrible and you're pretty sure your heart stutters over itself before beating double time.

“That’s disgusting,” you wheeze, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

Liv barely glances up at her phone. “I don’t care. Get dressed.”

You briefly consider drawing out your shower, but you're fairly certain that Liv wouldn’t hesitate to barge in and drag you out herself so you keep it quick. Mostly. You probably could have spent a couple less minutes shaving your legs but oh well. What’s done is done, and Liv hasn’t expressed any desire to harm or maim you as yet so you consider it a win.

By half eight the two of you are trudging down to the carpark, your duffel bag swinging lamely between them.

“If this goes badly I’m going to go back to my original plan of rearing llamas in South America,” you warn, pulling open the door to the passenger side with far more force than necessary. You throw your duffel in the backseat, having it land haphazardly on the floor.

Liv smoothly slides into the driver’s seat and the car hums to life. “I thought you were going to be a dairy farmer?” she asks lightly, passing over one of those heavy bran muffins you like to eat. You make a face but accepts it nonetheless. Asking Liv to stop at a Starbucks to pick of breakfast will only result in a stink eye and another bran muffin thrown your way.

“I changed my mind. Llamas have more personality than cows. Plus the paparazzi will never find me as an obscure livestock owner in the Andes.”

“I’m glad you’ve thought this through,” she says wryly, and you just smile at her, taking a huge bite out of the muffin.

You regret it instantly. It tastes like sadness and despair.

You don’t do much at the hotel, getting separate rooms and Liv leaves almost immediately to… do whatever it is she does on her downtime. Probably making a necklace out of human remains or something.

You dick around for a little bit, channel surfing before landing on an old episode of Charmed and then making the decision to hesitantly open up your Twitter account to scroll through your feed. You don’t go on often, especially because of these last few months, only tweeting when Liv says you need to make sure the world knows you are not dead, and even then it’s just a retweet of something, like one of those cute kitten vines.

You go through the writers’ room account, familiarising yourself with the producer and director before you catch yourself and stop. You could not get the role. You know that this industry is more luck than talent. You shouldn’t get attached.

It doesn’t stop you from looking up the studio though, learning that they’d be shooting on the same block as several other shows including some pretty well known ones. Homeland Studios is home to shows like Star Kingdom, Reign and Rebellion, and The Wreckage, just to name a few. It’s just a subtle reminder that it’s expected to do really well, and you swallow heavily, anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach.

When it’s time for you to go to the actual audition, you are a veritable bundle of nerves, to the point where Liv has to grab you by the shoulders to take you to the studio.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, hands clenched tight enough that yor nails dig crescents in then inside of your palm. “Maybe I shouldn’t get back into this just yet. Maybe we should go back home.”

“Maybe you should shut up,” Liv says mildly, switching lanes to head for their turn off, and you just nod, meek, settling down in your seat and trying not to think of everything that could go wrong.

None of those things happen of course; in fact, the audition surprisingly goes well enough.

You somehow manage to get in the mindset of your character and deliver your lines almost flawlessly despite the fact that you felt like you just came off a rollercoaster. The executive producer, Mr. Jung, is impressed at the end of it, and the room is all smiles when you are done, stumbling back out into the arms of a waiting Liv.

“See?” she smirks, “You did just fine.”

“I’m going to throw up,” you declare, and Liv just rolls her eyes.

Later that night Liv shows up to your room, a bag of Thai takeout in hand while you are aimlessly scrolling through your phone.

“Can you believe that there are articles on this already?” you ask, glaring at the luminescent screen. “I thought this was a closed audition? How do they have pictures of me?”

“Never underestimate the power of the paparazzi,” Liv says sagely as she begins to unload containers. You eat in silence, sometimes a quip here or there about an article that popped up. The pictures are blurry at best, which many say means that it’s just a hoax. That’s a good thing, in your opinion. The last thing you want is to ease back into the water only to have a sea monster drag your down kicking and screaming.

When you’re finished, Liv puts aside her container and looks at you, determined. It’s intimidating to say the least.

“You should start looking into apartments,” she says, blunt as always.

You are taken aback. Out of all things you expected her to say, this wasn’t even on the list. “What's wrong with my apartment?” you frown, “I like it.”

The look you get in return suggests that you are stupid for asking a question like that. “Well for one it's a good three hour commute from there to the studio.”

If anything, that just makes you frown deepen. “You're acting as though I already have the part when I’ve only gone in once.”

At that, Liv is suspiciously quiet and it makes you narrow your eyes. “What? What aren't you telling me?” you demand.

Another beat of hesitation and then, “They specifically contacted me with the role. They want you to take the part.”

That makes you even more confused and you ask, “Why would they do that? I haven't been acting for a while and I doubt that I'm good for press at the moment.”

There's a sigh from Liv before she unwillingly says, “They cast one lead already and she specifically asked for you to be her co lead.”

“Who is it,” you ask, voice flat and eyebrows raised expectantly.

Liv lifts her chin to meet your gaze, as though squaring up for a fight. Well, it’s not necessarily out of the ballpark just yet. “Shin Ryujin,” she says at last, and you are certain you can hear the screeching of brakes as the world stops.

Neither of you speak while you digest this information until you glare at her and almost spit what you have to say, “Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to team up with my ex boyfriend’s ex? The ex who dumped me on the red carpet? What the ever living fuck, Liv?”

She sighs again before saying, “I knew you would react like this, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

You slump backward into your pile of pillows. “The tabloids are going to come for me, you hear that? They’re going to come and ask me a million different questions and turn me into another meme. The opportunities for this are endless.”

“Relax, you’re making this worse than it needs to be.”

Your voice is muffled through the layers of pillows, but you are certain Liv can hear you when you say, “Tomorrow. I’m flying to South America tomorrow to start my yet to be named llama farm tomorrow.”

now

M A Y

A bottle of lavender and citrus shampoo has never looked that intimidating to you.

You probably spend a good five minutes under the stream of water just staring at the thing since you first noticed it. Your hair is already soaked all the way through, and the bodywash – his bodywash, the one that makes you smell like pine trees and musk – has swirled down the drain ages ago, but you can’t stop staring at the green and purple bottle sitting so innocently in the shower caddy.

It’s the exact same brand you use, the one that only the beauty store a good fifteen minutes from here sells, and you know that it’s stupid to get all worked up over a simple bottle of shampoo, but you can’t help it, not when it makes your stomach flip like that, not when you find yourself swallowing several times.

The shower door clicks open and you jump, almost slipping if it weren’t for the muscled arm that shoots out to grasp you.

“Whoa, careful,” Minho says, voice trembling with mirth as he pulls you into his chest. You feel the hotness creep up your chest, and he notices it too, dropping a finger to your breastbone, tracing it all the up your neck. “You trying to drown in here, baby?” he asks with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Just got sidetracked,” you say sweetly, thanking every deity you can think of that your voice doesn’t shake. You smirk and let your eyes run unashamedly over his bare form, the sinews of his neck, the hard ridges of his stomach that taper into a sharp vee at his hips. You love to stare at his naked body, love how it’s a study in sharp lines and angles that you wish to trace first with your fingers and then your teeth and tongue.

Minho doesn’t miss the way you are watching him, and he steps near you under the spray of the shower with a halfway smirk, letting it flatten his sex mussed curls.

“Well,” he all but purrs, and you shiver, letting your hands trail across his broad frame. He leans in to bite your ear while his thumbs brush over the tight bud of your nipples. “How about I sidetrack you a little more?”

Your hands spasm on his shoulders at his words, nails digging into corded muscle and he drags his teeth down your jaw.

“It’s your water bill,” you breathe, already rubbing yourself against his hardening cock, and he huffs a laugh into your skin.

Placing a kiss at the hollow of your throat, he mumbles, “It’s worth it,” and the grin that was budding across your face falls flat, stomach twisting awfully again.

You grab his hand from where it’s playing around with your breasts and drag it down to the the junction of your thighs, widening your stance slightly. “Less talking and more of this,” you tell him in a no nonsense kind of voice, his fingers taking their place on your clit, “I’m not getting sidetracked as yet.”

He misses the emotions that played across your face before, for when he finally looks up, it’s to meet a challenging eyebrow and a playful glint in your eye. He laughs again, pressing his forehead against yours and lets his fingers trail across your folds, parting them and spreading your wetness around and your eyes flutter shut, head tilted back.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, and then he’s kissing you, soft and deep while his other finger drums on your clit.

You try to put all thoughts of that damned shampoo bottle out of your head, god you try, and it works for a while, letting yourself get caught up in his fingers and tongue.

His fingers dipped in your heat, collecting all the slick that had gathered there before he dragged them back to your clit, swollen and throbbing in need for him. You allowed yourself to lean into Minho as he kept you pressed close to his body, planting small kisses at the top of your head.

It was intimate enough for you to freak out, intimate enough that it shouldn't come under whatever arrangement you and Minho had. Any rationality slipped from your mind when Minho tipped your head back to capture your lips in his.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body falling completely into his embrace. His lips felt so fucking soft, gliding against yours smoothly, a little chapped and raw, yet so fucking perfect against yours.

You sighed into the kiss and Minho’s tongue licked your lower lip, the simple sensation sent heat straight to your core when he caught them in between in his teeth, slightly nibbling on them. You craved this feeling more than anything in the world. Nothing could compare.

“Fuck” you breathed, and he bit your lower lip, tugging at it, breaking the skin hard enough to draw blood. All you could do was let out a breathy moan, which came out as more of a whine. Your fingers grazed the nape of his neck, digging crescents into the soft skin and his overwhelming scent completely indulged you.

For a moment you forgot about his fingers until he pushed you against the shower wall, plunging two fingers into your soaking, greedy cunt waiting for him, where he belonged.

"I've barely started, baby," he cooed at you, lips meeting yours again to match the intensity of his fingers.

You couldn’t feel it in yourself to be embarrassed, you just wanted him to touch you.

“Please” you whined, and he increased the intensity with which his fingers were rubbing against your walls, a delicious pace that you were far too guilty to be both indulging in and craving for.

“M-Mnho…” you spoke, faltering at your words as he explored you.

“Feels good?” He asked, out of breath, leaning to press kiss under your ear. His tongue was languidly tracing a path along the side of your neck.

“Yeah…p-please. Fuck, don’t stop…” you moaned as he fucked in and out of you with his finger. The small kisses, the way his fingers owned every inch of you, the way his thumb rubbed circles on your swollen nub, everything was too much for you to take. You threw your head back, trying to contain yourself, unsure if you will ever get enough of this, ever get enough of him.

“Fuck, you’re always so wet for me. Are you close already?” He mumbled, watching you.

“Just fuck me” you breathed, of course, Minho isn't one to make any of this easy for you.

“I know, baby. Your cunt can't be left untouched,” he chuckled.

“Go faster, please” You pleaded, leaning backwards to rest your head against the shower wall. You know for a fact that if it wasn't for his hands steadying you, you would barely be able to hold yourself up.

Minho knew how to push you to the edge, he knew how to curl his fingers just right inside you, his dark gaze on you, hot and determined. It was all too much.

“Please, don’t stop,” you said, knowing very well he won't.

“Don’t worry, baby. I'll make you feel so good,” he said, finding your mouth again with his own. You were far too fucked to kiss him back properly but that didn’t stop him. His fingers moved so fast inside you and his tongue explored your mouth at the same time. “Always so tight,” he mumbled, making you clench around him.

You didn't bother to reply, feeling the pressure finally build up, a tightening coil settling deep in your belly. You could hear how wet you were by how fast his fingers pulled in and out of you.

“Faster…I’m so close” you panted, feeling everything inside you build up and Minho listened to you, increasing his pace, fingering you at an insane speed, his fingers curling inside you so well.

He pulled you in for a kiss, and just then, you came, the knot uncoiling and you let out a loud moan, into his mouth. You came with repeated moans of his name and incorrigible words, and he helped you ride out your high, kissing your neck, his fingers still inside you as your thighs trembled.

"Fuck, Y/n, you have no idea how beautiful you are." You breathed out a laugh, your eyes fluttering close. “I could watch you come a hundred times.”

"You’re that great."

"Yeah? Let me wash all that grease from your hair."

Your stomach twists when he offers to wash your hair for you, an unsettling amount of domesticity in the suggestion, and you move to capture his mouth in a frantic kiss that catches him off guard for a second before he can say something else.

Soap gets in your mouth, but you ignore it in favour of kissing him harder, hands drifting up to grip his own hair, slippery between your fingers, and you stumble back into the wall behind him, his hands flying to grasp your hips.

The water beats down on you fully now that you have his back against the wall, and his hands squeeze your hips, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass, causing you to groan in his mouth. The soap suds drip down your back, and you try your best to ignore it, focusing on the warmth of his mouth, the hardness of his cock trapped between your bodies, pressing against your stomach, until the water runs clean, and that’s when Minho growls, fumbling to turn off the tap and hauling you up against him, dripping wet.

You shriek a little when he lifts, carrying you the short distance to his bed and dropping you down on the edge of it only to kneel between your open thighs, shouldering them apart.

A hand darts to his hair, grasping it when he nuzzles the crease where your hip meets your thigh, stubble chafing in the most wonderful of ways against your skin, and it brings a smile to your face, all previous worries long gone because this you can do. Sex is just sex. This is what you signed up for all those months ago.

“Insatiable,” you tell him, tapping his cheek.

He noses at you again, this time dangerously close to your centre where you can feel his breath brush against your cunt and you shiver, waiting.

“Your fault,” he mumbles, too busy peppering your mound with light kisses.

“I wasn’t done in the shower,” you say, laying back with a sigh as he licks up your slit gently. “You distracted me.”

“That was my plan,” he says unabashedly, using his thumbs to hold your folds wide open in front of him, everything on display. Minho looks up at you with a boyish grin, “You’ll have plenty of time for that after,” he says, and keeps eye contact with you when he seals his mouth over your clit, and really, what can you say to that?

‘After’ turns out to be nearly an hour later, rinsing the combined stickiness off your skin while he changes the sheets. Your hair is long dried, a halo of frizz around your head, and a cloud of lavender scent following you wherever you go. It still makes you feel uneasy, the level of intimacy you are at now, far higher than when this entire thing started, but you make a gargantuan effort to push it away. You could just be overreacting. You have a tendency to do that sometimes.

You step out into the living room in just a ratty t-shirt of his to find him lounging on the couch in sweats, a documentary playing on the TV while he nibbles on a slice of pizza. His glasses sit lopsided on his nose as always, and it makes your heart swell with fondness.

“Ryujin’s tweeting about us again,” he says, without any preamble, “Apparently she thinks we are going to burn the building down if we are left unchecked.”

You immediately unlock your phone and open up the app, spotting the tweet at the top of your timeline, and you snort. “What an idiot,” you say fondly, “Although I’m somewhat offended that she thinks we’ll destroy the complex.”

“I know right? Come on Ryujin, we’re not monsters,” he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “Obviously if I wanted to get back at you for something I’d just trash your apartment. I’m not going to inconvenience the entire building just for our feud.”

“What a gentleman,” you say wryly, slumping down on the couch next to him, and he prods you with his toes.

“We should take a selfie,” he says after wiping the grease off his hands, “To show her that we’re definitely still alive and everything’s intact.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say to take a selfie? You with me? Minho? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“You’re a bit dramatic at times, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Only several times a day.”

He rolls his eyes again and reaches out for your phone, pulling up the camera app. “C’mere,” he tells you, sitting up so that his shoulder brushes against yours. You readily move into frame.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” you say, “I feel like I should being taking a photo of you taking a selfie with me, you know, to record this historical moment-”

You only stop talking when you hear the sound of the camera going off and looks up to Minho, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

“You did not just do that,” you say, shooked just a bit, “I was talking!”

“Well if you won’t shut up and pay attention,” he teases only to have the camera go off once more.

Now it’s your turn to cackle at the look on his face, and you pat his cheek lightly. “Karma,” you say succinctly, and there’s another sound of the shutter that makes you huff. “Alright enough of that. Give me back my phone.”

He holds the phone out of your reach, grinning. “Just one more. And then you pick whichever and post it to um-” he wrinkles his nose as he tries to find the word and you can’t help but giggle.

“Instagram?” you prod him, and he makes a face, nodding in assent. “Honestly, you’re weird. Stop acting as though we would be the first actors to post a selfie together."

“Shut up,” he grumbles, knocking into you with his shoulder before lying back down on the couch. His eyes drift shut. “Just make sure that in whatever you post up, you get my good side.”

“You don’t have a good side.”

“Rude,” he says, though there’s a smile tugging at his lips that causes one to appear on your face. You never thought that the two of you’d get here, even when you started fucking, and now you did, and it leaves you warm and fuzzy inside, this friendship you have developed with him. It also fans the flames of your anxiety, wondering if you should just stop having sex entirely before it permanently screws up your friendship into something irreparable.

It doesn’t stop you from posting the picture though, turning off all notifications and throwing your phone on the coffee table before wedging yourself between the back of the couch and him to watch whatever it is he found on Netflix for them. His arm ends up around you, and you snuggle into it, perfectly content for the time being.

before: 12 months ago

M A Y

Shin Ryujin hasn’t changed since the last time you saw her.

Of course, you have only seen her twice before, once at the afterparty of an awards show where you had possibly the most uncomfortable conversation of your life, and the other time when you found her sitting on your – their? – ex boyfriend’s lap.

She is still the perfect mixture of cute and hot, all cute features and sharp edges that cut a pretty damn beautiful figure. She’s still bubbly and lively, eyes impassively trained on you for the moment you enter the room, and she still makes you feel nervous, mortified and uncomfortable all at the same time.

You get the part, to no one’s surprise, but the actual cast listing hasn’t been released yet, not until they have all gone through a table read.

Unfortunately, as if life loves playing these little, mortifying games with you, you are placed in the seat next to Ryujin and it’s awkward to say the least. It’s still early with half the cast not here as yet and there’s only so much fake texting you can pretend to do before it becomes noticeable.

Finally, you crack, turning in your seat to say, “So. This is awkward.”

She lifts a single perfectly manicured eyebrow. “What, most friendships don’t start with you realising you’re not dating the same two timing scumbag as someone else?” she asks, keeping a perfectly straight face.

“Is that what we are?” you ask, perhaps a bit too quickly, “Friends?”

Ryujin scrutinises you a little bit, as though expecting there to be some sort of alternative motive, and you wonder where all her extraversion energy has dissipated or if she was always like this. Then, Ryujin must not have found any twisted meaning behind your words because she leans back with a half a smile and says, “Yeah, Y/n. We are friends.”

You try to bite back a smile but you probably don't succeed, especially since Ryujin shoots you a sly, sidelong look and gently knocks her elbow into yours. You mimic the motion, knocking back into her in return before frowning as another question comes to mind.

“Why did you request me to be your co-star?” you ask falteringly, “We have only met twice, and one of those times happened to be with you and my ex were naked in bed together.”

“Good times that was,” she says with a wry twist of her lips. She turns so that her whole body is facing you and worries her lip between her teeth. “Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I have seen your stuff Y/n, you’re good at what you do and what happened all those months ago-” You stiffen and you know Ryujin notices as she slows her speech, “-was pretty shitty. But you can get back up again eventually and if this was the opportunity for that, then why not?”

“It was the least pretty shitty thing, it was a pretty mortifying experience,” you point out and Ryujin laughs.

“Yeah I figured. Getting outed and broken up with within the span of seven minutes? Ouch,” she winces and you are pretty sure you end up gaping at her. She leans over and taps your mouth closed with a ‘click.’ “Take it from me,” she says, resting a hand on her arm chair, “One bad experience doesn’t mean you have to hide away forever.”

You stare at her for a beat longer before a shaky smile unfurls itself across your face. “I like you, Shin Ryujin,” you declare and get a smile that’s all teeth in response.

“Good,” she nods, “Because hopefully we are gonna be seeing each other a lot for the next few months.”

And with one last shared grin, the directors and producers enter the room, the room filled with all the actors for script-writing, calling them all to silence to begin the table read.

It goes surprisingly well if you do say so. The cast is fun and quirky, each of them bringing something new to the table and there’s something about firing off quick witted banter with Ryujin, both of you smirking just a little while you do so, that just seals the deal for you. For the first time in a long you actually feel truly at home. Acting has always been something which put you at ease, and despite the bigger picture demanding more than what just interest can fulfill, the idea of associating bad memories to your passion wasn't the best.

“Hey,” Ryujin calls out when it’s all over and she’s walking over to catch a cab, “Wait up.”

You slow to a stop, turning to look at her as she catches up. “What’s up?”

She comes to a stop in front of you, shifting her weight from one leg to another and fingers the end of her ponytail. “Where are you staying?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from Busan right?” she asks, and you nod once, “So you need a place to stay while we’re filming.”

Right now you are still living out of your duffle in the single hotel room. Liv left a few days prior, once she was sure that you weren't going to run, and you have been on your own since, not even sparing a thought about your housing predicament.

“Fuck,” you groan, raking a careless hand through your hair, “I forgot about that. And we start shooting in a week, dammit.”

She smiles at you, the same sharp one as before, but you can see the nervous tightening around her eyes. “Well actually,” she begins, hesitating slightly, “I have a spare room. If you’re interested that is.”

It takes you a few seconds to realise that you’re gaping at her, mouth hanging open just a little and you hasten to shut it. “What – are you sure?” you sputter, “Because you don’t have to; it’s totally fine, I could just-”

“What?” she interrupts with a raised brow, “Live in a hotel room until you find somewhere to rent? Sounds fun.”

“Ryujin, I-” you falter searching for the right words. “Why?” is what you come up with in the end, looking up at her beseechingly.

Her face softens infinitesimally. “You look like you could use a friend,” she says, “A real friend. Someone other than your agent.”

There’s a bit of a sting hidden beneath her words, and you find yourself scuffing the loose gravel with the toe of your shoe. She’s not wrong; you have been in this industry for ages and while you have had acquaintances here and there, none of them had ever been able to quite move into the friendship category.

“You don’t even know me,” you warn, “I could be a terrible roommate.”

She shrugs. “Hey, if that idiot had the balls to date both of us and then cheat, we must have something in common, right?”

It gets a smile out of you. “I guess so.”

“So. You up for it?”

You duck your head for a moment to hide what must be a truly ridiculous grin. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m in.”

The two of you shake on it and two days later you move in with her. At least unofficially.

It’s a bit of a hassle getting everything together; you have to find your way back down to your old apartment considering Liv was the one who drove you up here in the first place, and then figure out what to pack in your car to tote back up to your new place. It’s in doing all of this that you realise the sheer amount of crap you have come to own. Really, you have no idea how your wardrobe didn’t explode before because you have a truly frightening amount of clothes.

At the end of it, everything works out for the best.

You and Ryujin spend the day before you’re scheduled to start shooting unpacking your things in the spare room and it’s… fun. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time, enthusiastically singing along to trashy pop music playing over the radio while the two of you unload box after box. It turns out Ryujin's spare room was a lab of sorts, all sorts of knickknacks and tools spread out.

“They were going to go back in storage when I started working again anyway,” she says, brushing off your concern as she dumps them into her previously empty boxes, “Relax Y/n.”

When it’s all said and done, the two of you find yourselves sprawled off on the sofa, watching some sort of mindless reality TV show while you split a pizza. As far as days go, this one is a veritable success, and, watching Ryujin trying to balance straws on her nose while they lounge around together in their pyjamas, you think that you made a good choice.

M A Y

Your first day on set is… interesting to say the least.

The couple of scenes you do go well, the cast is just as amicable as before and the crew is a riot. Not to mention you are slowly coming around making friends with a handful of other people around you. It makes you feel like you have somewhat successfully navigated your adult life.

That isn’t what makes it interesting though; no what makes it interesting is your run in with some overweening asshole while you were still in your car.

There’s a tap on the glass which causes you to jump, and when your head snaps towards the source, there is a man standing right by your door, frowning. He’s fairly handsome, with caramel skin and bedhead, extremely attractive, and you swear that you know him from somewhere but you can’t put your finger on it. You don’t dwell on it though, because he’s standing outside your car, arms crossed over his – admittedly broad – chest and looking thoroughly put out.

“Can I help you?” you ask, polite, after rolling down the window.

The man doesn’t seem to have any regards for manners however as his upper lip curls into a sneer and he says, “You’re in my parking spot, miss.”

You blink. You're fairly certain that this spot didn’t have anything labelling it as reserved when you pulled into it. So, like any person would do, you step out of the car to check. As you suspected, there’s nothing there saying that it belongs to anyone else and you whirl around to tell him as much.

He just scoffs at you in response. “Listen, I know you’re a newbie and all but that’s been my spot for the last two and a half years, so if you could kindly fuck off, it would be much appreciated.”

“Wow, a real gentleman, aren’t you?” you hiss, and then make a point about pressing the button on your keys so that your car locks with a cheery chirp. “This is the first time I’ve seen you all week so maybe you should be the one kindly fucking off.”

“All week, hmm?” he says, eyebrows raising, “Funny because in my two years of being here this is the first time I’m seeing you so.”

The way he says it makes it seem like you are the one at fault for taking an unmarked parking spot. It causes your hackles to rise and you find yourself sniping, “Well maybe if you spent less time being a diva and more time trying to be punctual, then maybe you’d have your precious parking space!”

His eyebrows seem to have disappeared up his hairline. “A diva?” he sputters, before glaring at you once more, “Please. As if you’re one to talk, miss.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” you huff, before stomping your foot and saying, “And stop calling me miss, dammit! You don’t know me.”

“I know your type,” he drawls, and his lips twist into a smirk. The change in his expression is going to give you whiplash, you’re sure of it, what with the way he keeps going from angry to smug. He presses on, “Whiny girl trying to make it big. Thinks that the world has fucked her over and she’s out to show them that she’s more than just a pretty face.” You can’t help but wince as his words hit a little bit too close to home, and his smirk just widens. “If the glass slipper fits, Cinderella. Try not to break it.”

“Are you always this much of an asshole to strangers?” you fire back after a moment of hesitation, “Or am I special?”

“What do you think?”

“I think,” you sniff, hiking your bag up on your shoulder, “That you’re a dick and I hope someone spills hot coffee on that pretty face of yours.”

And with that you turn on your heel, stalking off to stage four where you are set to begin shooting today. He yells something indistinguishable from behind you and you don't even bother to turn around, just flip him off over your shoulder.

You stomp on to the set, seething over the altercation until Ryujin calls you out on it with a, “Who pissed in your coffee?”

“Haven’t had any as yet,” you reply, slamming your bag down on the table and reaching for the pot of the aforementioned drink.

“No wonder you’re glaring daggers at everything that moves. Coffee is essential, Y/n. It’s our ambrosia.”

That gets a smile out of you and you feel the tension slowly start to work its way out of your shoulders. You quickly fix your cuppa to suit – two sugars with the barest dab of milk – and take a huge sip, sighing as it washes down your throat. “I can believe that,” you say and take another sip. “But it wasn’t my caffeinated – or lack thereof – self that brought this on. Just some asshole in the car park.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I feel like I know him from somewhere so he’s probably an actor too, but god, he’s such a dick. I wanted to punch him in the face.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you. We all know you have got a mean right hook.”

You felt the heat creep up your neck and face. “I’m sorry, if that asshole had the gall to try and get back with you at your movie premier you’re telling me you wouldn’t punch him?”

“No, I’d kick him in the balls and take a picture to use as the newest reaction photo. Caption: when you get hit by the feels.”

You snort a laugh and drain the rest of your coffee. “I better head to hair and makeup. I have a feeling they are going to need some time to tame this into some form of neatness,” you say, gesturing to the tangle of your hair thrown together in a sloppy bun at the top of your head.

Ryujin nods, reaching for a peach. “I should probably do the same. After we are done we can raid craft services before Felix and Jeongin get to it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

After that, everything is smooth sailing and you easily push the incident from your mind, getting into character as you call them on set. You shoot three scenes that day, and you and Ryujin learn how to fire fake guns. It’s fun, and when you’re done, Felix suggests that they all head for celebratory pizza at Lia’s around the corner. You feel right at home with them, with all of your co-stars, as you chat and trade stories over weak beer and greasy pizza, and when you and Ryujin stumble back home later, you pretty much just collapse into bed, only toeing off your shoes.

The rest of the week goes by quickly, and on Friday you are the only one who needs to go in, leaving Ryujin at home watching cartoons curled up on their couch with a bowl of soggy cereal. It’s easier than you expected, having her as a roommate. You are both still careful around each other, but by each passing day the walls are slowly being chipped away.

“Want me to pick up anything on my way back?” you ask while slipping on your shoes.

She shakes her head. “Nah. Don’t forget though, I invited Minho over later. I can’t believe you’ve been here a week and you haven’t met him yet.”

“You mean your imaginary friend who lives down the hall?” you tease.

“He’s not imaginary,” she insists, laughter colouring her voice, “I don’t know why you keep insisting he is.”

“Probably because you keep referencing him but I’ve never seen him.”

“Because he’s working somewhere else in the meantime. He left Monday evening.”

“Uh huh,” you say, still sceptical, “Sure. I’m going now. Say hi to your other imaginary friends for me!”

You hear a loud, “He's not imaginary, dammit Y/n!” as the door shuts behind you and you can’t help but grin to yourself as you jog down the stairs.

* * *

Work is a bit boring today with most of the cast not there. You are needed for two scenes with a couple extras, one fake fight where your stunt double is doing most of the work, and then the resulting interrogation scene. It’s nice, but dull, and you take to snapchatting Ryujin various pieces of set equipment until you flip her off, not answering anymore after she presumably switches off her phone.

You get to leave early when your scenes are done, and stop off at the bakery around the corner to pick up some pastries before heading home.

Their voices can be heard through the door as you toggle the lock, and you can't help but bite back a smile when you hear Ryujin bark out a laugh.

“Honey I'm home,” you announce as you fling the door open, kicking your shoes off in the hallway.

There’s a muffled, “In here!” coming from the kitchen as well as the tantalising waft of spices that has your stomach growling.

The first thing you notice as you round the corner is the guy standing by the stove all messy yet neat hair and deliciously broad shoulders, stirring the pot while Ryujin goes on about something and your mouth waters for more than one reason. The second thing you notice when he turns a bit, giving you a glimpse of his side profile, is that he looks shockingly familiar. That one is fleeting however, only to be replaced by the third and final thing, when Ryujin finally sees you standing on the edge of the kitchen.

“Y/n!” she yells out in greeting, and when the man turns around, giving you a good look at his face, your jaw actually drops.

Because standing there in the middle of your kitchen, looking surly as ever is the parking space asshole.

Seriously, what the fuck.

“Y/n,” Ryujin says again, sliding off her perch on the counter, “This is Minho. The one who you thought were imaginary.”

“I wish he was imaginary,” you mumble under your breath.

“What was that?”

“I said we have met,” you correct yourself with a tight smile and that’s when his lips curl up in a lazy smirk.

“That we have,” he drawls, shoving his hands in his pants pocket. He nods at you in acknowledgement. “Miss.”

“Douchebag.”

Ryujin is looking between the two of you, perplexed. “How–” she falters, eyebrows creasing together.

“He's the carpark asshole,” you say, flat, and that’s when Ryujin laughs, loud and bright, bouncing off the kitchen cabinets.

“Nah,” she smirks, patting him on the shoulder, “Just a regular asshole.”

“Thanks Ryujin.”

She whirls around to face him, smacking his bicep lightly. “I can’t believe the girl you were complaining about was Y/n. And Y/n,” she says, cutting a glance back at her, “Why didn’t you tell me it was Minho? I would have helped come up with some more colourful insults for him.”

“Again, thank you Ryujin.”

You feel your cheeks get warm and you duck your head, saying sheepishly, “I uh, I didn’t exactly recognise him at first.”

You don’t have to look up to know that the pair is gaping at you. Well, Ryujin is gaping at you, that is. Minho on the other hand is still trying to be cool and pretend that he’s not bothered by your admission.

“...Seriously?”

“It’s not like I watch the show okay?” you defend yourself, “I only know about it in passing.”

“Yeah, but he was on like every news outlet for the first year of it because of his fuck ups.”

“Why am I friends with you again?” Minho asks to no one in particular and you both ignore him.

Ryujin is still frowning at you, looking at you a bit suspiciously. “You really didn’t know?”

“Trust me, if I knew who he was and that he was your friend, I wouldn’t have said half of those things,” you sigh, using both your hands to push your hair back. You look at Minho properly for the first time since you realised who he was, and he’s just as stupidly hot as before. It makes you frown. “So does being friends with my roommate mean that I’ll have to see you around here often?” you ask, and his grin turns wicked.

“Something like that,” he shrugs, being deliberately vague, and turns back to the stew bubbling away on the stove.

Next to him, Ryujin rolls her eyes and says, “He lives down the hall and he’s usually over most nights if our schedules permits it.”

You feel your eyes flicker close of their own accord. “Great,” you sigh, and then they snap open almost immediately. “Wait, he lives here?” You look between the two of them before pinching the bridge of your nose. “What, is there some sort of celebrity quota the complex needs to fill or something? Is James Franco gonna pop up downstairs while I’m getting my mail?”

“Why James Franco?” Minho butts in mildly as he turns the gas off, “Why not Dave? He’s obviously the better Franco.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up,” grouses Ryujin, stretching up to get the bowls from the top cabinet. The floor squeaks as she moves and you all wince.

“Need wheels for walking, Ryujin?” he asks, elbowing her out of the way to grab the bowls and he starts ladling the food into them.

“Nah. I just forgot to see about it this weekend,” she says, setting the table. You remain standing there in the kitchen, awkwardly holding the box of pastries. “Got sidetracked with a new show and all, this floor is still irritating though.”

“Uh huh,” he says, before his eyes drift over to you and he lifts an eyebrow, “What, you just gonna stand there all day, sweetheart?”

You jump, startled, and throw a weak glare at him. “No. Shut up,” you reply, placing the box on the counter and grabbing the cutlery from the drawer. Ryujin pops open a bottle of wine and soon enough you are all sitting in silence, eating. You have to begrudgingly admit that whatever it is he made ('Galbi Jjim,’ he had said, and the word sounds clumsy in your mouth) tastes amazing. Of course, you’re not going to tell him that; he’s already got a big head and you don't need to feed his ego even more.

You do however need him to feed you and Ryunjin more; his cooking is leagues better than whatever you and Ryujin can manage to put together.

When dinner is over and you have suffered through the appropriate amount of smalltalk, you finally give in and ask, “So how did this,” you gesture between them, “Happen?”

Ryujin cackles and it unnerves you just a bit.

“We hooked up after the incident,” Ryujin shrugs unashamedly. Minho shrugs but you notice a hint of redness creeping up his neck. “I woke up to this asshole sitting in my kitchen drinking my coffee–”

“Your shitty coffee,” he interjects and she elbows him in the stomach.

“–going through my apartment plans–”

“She wanted to move to the south side,” he snorts derisively, “Can you imagine? She wouldn't survive a week down there with the health junkies.”

“This is my story shut up,” Ryujin says without any heat behind her words, “But yeah, there we were, the random guy I hooked up with giving me real estate advice while he stood half naked in my kitchen, and the next thing I knew, I was signing the lease and he was helping me move in here..”

“Do all your friendships begin this weird?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to hide an amused smile.

She winks at you. “Only the good ones,” she says, and that gets a laugh out of you.

You offer to do the dishes after while they set up shop in the living room, bickering goodnaturedly over whose turn it is to pick something to watch on Netflix. You can’t stop your eyes from straying though, looking over at him ever so often for some strange reason.

* * *

Minho is an enigma.

On one hand, he seems like the type of person you wouldn’t mind having as a friend. His humour isn’t quite as dark as Ryujin’s but it’s drier, and he says almost everything with his lips curled up in a smirk, not to mention they have most of the same views on certain topics. That doesn’t stop the two of you from arguing all the time though; at the studio, at the apartment, it doesn’t matter where, you always find something to disagree over.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Ryujin says, rolling her eyes. You were running through lines on your break when Minho appeared, immediately throwing himself on the couch next to you, despite the fact that there were several other seats available.

“You are ridiculous,” you sulk, jabbing him in the ribs with your elbow just because.

Minho reacts like the mature adult he is by sticking his tongue out at you and swatting your thigh easily. “I’m just here to say hi to my friend Ryujin while I’m on lunch,” he says, loosening his tie, “Dunno what the princess’ reason is though.”

“I work here,” you reply, flat. “You’re literally on set where I work. Where else would I be?”

“Jesus, you guys are a headache,” sighs Ryujin when you and Minho start bickering once more, although you can hear the love peeking through. Somewhat.

“It’s his fault,” you mumble, and he tugs on your hair.

Ryujin groans again, swatting you both with her rolled up script. “The two of you are children,” she announces, ignoring your indignant yelps of pain.

It doesn’t help that Minho always seems to be around. He spends most of his lunch breaks on your set, dragging Hyunjin over with him, and then spends most of that time antagonising you. When you’re not filming, he’s over on your couch, needling them into watching the most boring movies ever, and you’re certain that the only reason Ryujin hasn’t kicked him out yet is because he makes them dinner most nights.

“Don’t you have your own apartment?” you somewhat grouse as soon as you spot him lounging on the couch one Sunday morning. You have just woken up, still squinting suspiciously at everything, and it’s not fair that he still manages to look so good that early in the morning. It accounts for about 30% of your bad mood.

Minho just gives you a quick up down, a hint of smirk making itself known and you refuse to fidget, refuse to pull down the shorts you know are riding high on your thigh, refuse to brush back the tangled snarl of hair partially obscuring your vision. “But if I was in my apartment then how would I see your beautiful face, sunshine?”

You don't even dignify that with a response, just trudging your way across the room into the kitchen where Ryujin is already sitting at the table, gulping down coffee like it’s her job.

“Does he ever go home?” you ask, rummaging around the fridge for some milk. “How’d you even put up with him before?”

She just shrugs. “He’s been around more often now that you’re here” she says offhand, and you glance sidelong at her, stopping mid stretch for the cereal box.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs, but she can’t quite hide the smug little smile pulling at her mouth. “Nothing at all.”

You are fairly certain that it’s something, so you press on, “Come on. Obviously you meant something with it. What aren’t you telling me?”

Ryujin slumps back in her chair with a roll of her eyes and pitches her voice low so that it doesn't carry. “Look, he used to visit before, yeah, but since you’re living here now, he’s coming over every day and actually leaving his set to come to ours. What do you think might have caused the change of heart.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “What are you insinuating, Ryujin?”

“You know damn well what I’m insinuating, Y/n.”

“I know that it sounds like a load of bullshit because-”

“Because it’s so implausible that Minho might like you?” she cuts in with a raised eyebrow, “I’ve known that boy for a while. There’s something going on with him. There’s something going on with both of you, and when it finally happens, I’m going to say I told you so.”

“Please,” you scoff as you drown your cereal in milk, “Nothing is going to happen between us.”

J U N E

“Fuck,” he says stumbling back. His eyes are wide and frenzied, lips red, and you're fairly certain you look the same way.

You run a shaky hand through your hair, possibly making it even messier but you don’t really care, not when you have bigger things to worry about like the fact that you just kissed Lee Minho while in the middle of arguing with him.

“Fuck.”

He breathes out a shaky laugh, fidgeting with the tie around his neck. “Pretty sure I just said that.”

“It deserves to be said again because – fuck.”

“Eloquent aren’t you?” he mutters, looking everywhere in the room but at you and you feel a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth.

“This never happened,” you tell him, taking a step closer and forcing him to look at you. “And this is never going to happen again. Got it?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw, eyes hard when he finally meets your gaze. “Whatever the hell you want, Y/n,” he says with abit of an edge, and you nod once before stalking out.

It’s only once you’re out of sight- of him, the trailer and everything else – tucked away in a dusty corridor that leads between studios, do you lean against the wall, breathing shakily as you brush the pads of your fingers across your lips, still tingling.

“Never again,” you mutter, already feeling the migraine building at the base of your skull.

now

M A Y

There’s sunlight streaming through the blinds, and you groan, throwing an arm over your eyes as you move further away from Minho. It’s warm, even with the air conditioner on full blast, and your body is sticky with sweat underneath the light linen blanket. You kick it off with a huff, hoping that maybe you can finally lapse back into a state of blissful unconsciousness, but it’s to no avail.

The bed vibrates with unheard chuckles and you crane your neck to throw a glare at him from over your shoulder.

“Shut up,” you groan. He's ridiculous, lying spread out on the bed without a stitch of clothing to his name, skin all pale and carmel smooth while his hair is a tousled mess. It's upsetting how good he looks, and you shove your face in your pillow so that you don't have to watch him a moment longer.

He just laughs again, this time louder and shuffles closer, ignoring your mewl of displeasure as he pulls his body flush against yours. “Good morning baby,” the coos in your ear before placing a line of sloppy kisses down the side of your neck.

You squirm in his arms, trying in vain to bat him away, but he just laughs again, letting his hair chafe against your skin as he grabs both your wrists and pins your hands above your head, sending a pang of want through you.

“Asshole,” you mutter, even as you tilt your head back to let him suck softly on your pulse point. The hand holding your wrists together applies a bit more pressure to them and he presses more firmly against you until you whine. “It’s hot,” you complain.

His teeth grazes your earlobe when he shifts, and you sigh, relaxing into him. “Mmm, that you are,” he says into your skin, free hand moving to palm your breast. Your lips part in a silent moan when he squeezes it, thumb flicking over your nipple, and he ruts against your ass, letting you feel him, already hard and hot.

“I’m all sweaty and sticky,” you warn, though your protests are getting more and more feeble by the minute, especially when he nips at your jaw gently, hand leaving your chest and moving south to brush across your clit.

His responding hum reverberates through you and you whimper as his fingers tease your cunt. “Well, let’s see if we could make you sweatier and stickier,” he says, and you have to huff out a laugh, startled and bright, because he’s ridiculous .

“What an – oh,” the rest of your sentence is replaced by a moan when he easily lifts your leg, hitching it over his hip, and slides in, all hot and heavy and perfect.

You whimper again when he grunts into your neck as he bottoms out, and you stay like that for a moment, just basking in the feel of each other before he finally starts to move.

He can only give you short, shallow thrusts like this, but more than makes up for it by using the pad of his thumb to rub gentle circles on your clit. You grind back against him, wrists straining against his hands, but he doesn’t let up, no matter how much you ask.

Then he’s hitching your leg up higher, changing the angle inside of you that has you seeing white, almost choking on your tongue as you spasm against him, wanting him to reach you deeper.

“Fuck, Minho, right there,” you beg, turning your head blindly in search of his lips, and he obliges you, giving you a kiss that’s more tooth than lip, but you still whimper, teetering on the edge.

Sweat gathers across your bodies, and you can feel your hair sticking to your temples, to the back of your neck, and he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat when you inadvertently clench down on him. He finally lets go of your hands, only grabbing hold of your thigh, keeping it in place as he repeats the motion from before that has you seeing stars.

“Better?” he asks, voice strained, and all you can do is nod, too busy panting to string actual words together. You clutch on to the pillow when he does it a third time, free hand darting back down to pinch your clit, needing something to anchor you to reality.

“I’m so- I’m so,” you almost sob, thrashing, and his laugh is low and gravelly behind you, lips fastening to your pulse point and causing you to cry out. “Minho.”

He soothes you with sweet nothings muttered in your ear, but it does nothing to quelch the burning need inside you. Only when his fingers bear down on your clit too, thrusting in as deep as he can go, do you keen loudly, walls fluttering around him as you come.

It takes both of you by surprise, the sheer intensity of it, and for one brilliant, mind numbing moment, everything goes blank, and you just feel as though you're blissfully floating in space, electricity pulsing beneath your skin.

You come back slowly, your harsh breaths mingling with his as he softens inside of you, and he squeezes the fleshy part of your stomach gently before rolling onto his back. You go with him, twisting so that you now lie on his chest, sweat soaked skin sticking together, too lazy to actually go and clean up.

Minho pets the hair away from your face and pecks you on nose, laughing when you wrinkle it in response. “Morning,” he drawls again, hand trailing up your spine. “We should probably get up.”

You hum noncommittally, letting your head droop forward on his chest with a sigh. “I’m not moving for at least another hour,” you tell him, and he chuckles again, brushing his lips across the crown of your head. “Don’t let it get to your head” you tack on when you notice him crowing, and he pinches your thigh in response.

* * *

It’s Friday.

You have spent almost an entire week at his apartment, shirking your responsibilities in favour of playing house with Minho.

The intimacy should be too much: staying several nights in a row, cuddling with him after sex while he does things like that, but you can’t find it in you to muster up the energy to care, not when your blood is still roaring in your eyes and sheets have yet to cool.

“We've got time,” you think you hear him say through the fog settling in your mind, squeezing your hand, before you finally drift off.

before: 10 months ago

J U L Y

You get a late invite to the Seasonal Con.

Only Ryujin and you are going, along with the producer, and it’s not even a real panel, just a screening of the pilot episode to a group of maybe fifty people, and then fielding whatever questions the crowd might have.

It’s your first major event ever since you stumbled back on the scene two months ago and you're equal parts excited and terrified.

“Hey,” says Ryujin, nudging you gently as you turn out the sheets. You are both staying at your apartment instead of renting a hotel, since it’s only a half an hour drive from the convention centre. “Relax,” she says, “It’s not like we are going to be dealing with a lot of press or anything. Just smile and look pretty.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mumble under your breath, and this time there’s nothing gentle in the way Ryujin elbows you.

* * *

The morning that you are scheduled to go to the Seasonal Con, you are mostly fine. You get up and help Ryujin make pancakes for breakfast, then you shower and do your makeup, donning a cute sundress, and even going as far as to make sure your hair is in some semblance of order and that your makeup perfectly suits your dress.

You are fine.

Ryujin has to press her hand against your thigh to stop you from shaking your leg.

You throw her a thin smile in return. “What, you’re not gonna buy me dinner first?” you try to joke, but even you can hear how weak it sounds, and Ryujin gives you a meaningful squeeze.

“You got this.”

And she’s right. Mostly.

The screening is fine, the audience seems to be genuinely interested in the show, and they even garner more than a few laughs which probably made you disproportionately happy, but whatever. You are glad people are liking something that you helped to make. You do get asked a few questions later on, just a handful of things about the show that your producer answers mostly, and afterwards, a couple fans ask for pictures and autographs.

It’s all very textbook, but you breathe a sigh of relief once it’s all over, wringing out your shoulders.

“See?” says Ryujin with a grin as you walk out of the hall. The adjacent hallway is mercifully empty, free of any onlookers for a few moments. “You made it through.” You have got the rest of the day to yourselves and while you would rather go home immediately, Ryujin convinced you to stay a little while, just an hour or so.

“I guess it wasn’t that bad,” you concede, and Ryujin nudges you until you duck your head in a grin. “Fine, okay, it was fun. Jeez, you have pointy elbows.”

She just smiles angelically at you, and ducks out of the way before you can tug on her ponytail. “Everything’s better with Shin Ryujin around,” she announces.

“That is your new tagline, Ryujin?” a voice drawls from behind the two of you and both of you come to a stop.

You immediately recognise the speaker and your eyes fall shut as you take a calming breath, tilting your head heavenwards. You do not need this right now, especially not when your day was actually starting to look up. Ryujin on the other hand has no qualms about whipping around with a grin, saying a cheery, “Hey Minho,” in greeting.

He nods in acknowledgement before sidling alongside you, and you still have your eyes wrenched shut. “Y/n,” he says, lightly hip checking you.

That’s when you open your eyes, giving him a clinical up and down. He looks good as always, wearing a leather jacket over a soft tee with a faded Hogwarts insignia on it, and his cap is lurched lopsided in a way that is certainly not adorable. You think it might be a Pokemon one, but you don't want to spare him the extra thought.

You purse your lips. “Asshole.”

Minho chuckles, holding the door open for you as you enter the main part of the convention centre. People are swarming all over the place and while no one outright stares at them, you begin to feel the anxiety creeping back up your spine and quicken your pace, Ryujin right at your side.

“Hey, I’m just being nice,” he says, jogging to catch up with them.

“Fuck your nice.”

“Someone’s hostile today,” he frowns, staring down at you. His eyes flit over to Ryujin and he asks, “What’s up with her?”

“I’m right here you know,” you snap, “You don’t need to ask other people when I’m literally standing right in front of you.”

“Easy baby,” he soothes, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. There’s still a dip between his eyebrows as he appraises you carefully, and you look away, feeling a flush of hotness creep up the back of your neck. Behind you, you can feel Ryujin shaking with silent laughter.

“Leave me alone,” you say, shrugging off his arm and stalking off. You don’t get very far before the other two catch up to you, Minho catching you by your wrist this time.

He opens his mouth to say something – no doubt another snide jab at you – but is interrupted by a girl, clutching her phone tightly and staring at him in wide eyed amazement.

“I’m sorry, but can I get a quick photo please?” she says in a rush, “I’m a huge fan of your show!”

He presses his lips together in a line, giving you one last look, before turning to the girl with a charming smile. “Sure,” he says, posing for the selfie, and the next thing he knows, there’s a whole crowd around them, asking for autographs and pictures, blocking them in.

Honestly, the only thing that stops you from taking off then and there is Ryujin’s hand resting on the crook of your elbow through the entire ordeal. Besides, almost all of them are for Minho anyway. Hardly anyone spares them a second glance.

They must have been standing there for over five minutes before he says, loud and clear, “Sorry guys, I have to get to lunch, but I’ll be doing a signing at two if you want to come over.”

There’s general murmurs of disappointment from the crowd and they start to thin out. But, before they leave completely, Minho curls his arm around your shoulders with a, “Come on, love,” that sends a hushed whispers throughout the crowd and the tingle that was prickling under your skin moments before slams back into you, full force, no doubt faltering your public image.

Ryujin is all out cackling behind them and the moment you are all out of the public eye, you plan on ripping her a new one for her betrayal.

“You’re such a dick,” you hiss at Minho, trying to escape his hold. He just pulls you even further into his side and ducks his head to whisper,

“I’m doing you a favour.”

You try to ignore how warm and solid he is, how he smells like cinnamon and pine trees, but it’s proving to be difficult. “Yeah, well, you can shove your favour up your ass,” you mutter, and he throws his head back, barking out a laugh.

“You’ve got a real gratitude problem, you know that?” he says, almost bitterly.

“No, just a you-problem,” you retort in a saccharine voice.

“Easy kids,” says Ryujin , not even bothering to hide her smirk. “Be careful. You never know what this is going to look like to the outside eye.”

“There’s only one way murder can look to the outside eye, Ryujin,” you say, and he just scoffs.

“I try to do one nice thing for you and what do I get?” he says, mostly to himself, finally letting his arm slip off your shoulders as you near the end of this hall. “Not even a thank you. Last time I will try to help you.”

“Good I don’t want your help,” you snap, pretending that you don’t miss the heat and heaviness of his arm around you. Your fingers brush together when you walk though, and neither of you make any attempt to create some space between yourselves.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Oh my god, you’re like an old married couple,” says Ryujin exasperatedly and you both turn to glare at her.

“Shut up, Ryujin,” both of you chorus before snapping your glares over each other.

“Jesus,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes. “I’m just saying, keep acting like that and people are going to assume things.”

Minho makes a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “Please,” he says, leading them down the corridor, presumably where the rest of his cast is hanging out, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

* * *

Your phone barely even rings once before you’re swiping accept, not even sparing a glance at the caller ID. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she deadpans, voice scratchy with disuse.

On the other end of the phone, Liv sighs, a common reaction to dealing with your mishaps. “What happened yesterday?” she asks again, already sounding tired. That’s how you know this is a big problem, because Liv never sounds tired in the morning.

“Nothing!” you say, flailing wildly, “Seriously, we were arguing as usual. That’s it. Nothing about that screams romance.”

“So he didn’t call you ‘love’?” she asks dubiously.

You hesitate, biting your lip. “Well, yes,” you relent, “But he always calls me something ridiculous. It’s meant as an insult not a pet name!”

Liv seems to ignore you. “And did he put his arm around you?”

You hesitate again. “...Yes.”

There’s another sigh coming from her end of the phone, and you screw your eyes shut as you wait for the verbal smackdown.

“Come on Y/n,” Liv starts, “You’ve been in this business long enough, you know how the public perceives things. Especially things like this.”

You swipe a hand through your tangle of hair – damaged from all that damn hairspray – and toss it up in a slipshod bun. “Can’t you skew it?” you ask, “I’m not involved with him, I do not want to be involved with him. At all. Forever. Never in my life.”

There’s silence on the other end for almost a full minute before she says slowly, “We could just let it all blow over. Dating rumours crop up everyday.”

You lift your eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that we just leave it alone?”

“It should disappear by itself. After all, this is the first time someone alluded to your relationship with Minho as anything but professional. A lot of people are probably going to flat out deny it,” she tells you. “Let the internet work it out for itself. You’ll be old news by yesterday.”

“One can only hope,” you say, shoulders slumping. “Why did I come back to this hell hole? Why didn’t I start my hopefully lucrative llama farm?”

“Goodbye Yn.”

The phone goes dead and you pull it away to glare at it. “See, my llamas would put up with my bullshit Liv. They wouldn’t abandon me because of it.”

It’s only a few minutes to eight, but you can’t go back to sleep so with a disgruntled full bodied sigh, you roll out of bed to get started on breakfast. They have only been here for three days so far, driving back up tomorrow, so you are fully aware that the fridge is woefully scant, even with the groceries they picked up on the way. There are some eggs left over though, so you scramble them, and makes some toast to go with it.

You have given into temptation, scrolling through your Twitter feed as you wait for Ryujin to wake up, sipping on your coffee. It’s not terribly bad; it’s the most notifications you have had in a long while, and most of them happen to be the same question repeated over and over in a multitude of ways: Is there something going on between you and Minho?

Your fingers itch to answer them, or maybe even just vaguely tweet something but you resist, thinking of what Liv would say if you somehow made matters worse. You are saved from being a torment to yourself only a few moments later when Ryujin stumbles in the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee pot.

“What?” she asks once she’s inhaled half a cup and is now awake enough to notice you glaring at her.

You just groan and slide your phone across the table to her, before dropping your head onto your arms. When Ryujin reads the headline she snickers, absolutely delighted.

“You called this upon me,” you say, your words muffled by the tabletop. “You fucking called this on me.”

Ryujin pets your hair aimlessly, doing more harm than good. “Look on the bright side; it’s Dispatch. No one takes it seriously.”

“My Twitter feed is like 99 per cent of people asking me if Minho and I are dating. Or having hate sex.”

“Obviously it’s the latter.”

“Obviously it’s neither.”

“Oh come on,” she says, throwing her hands up, “You’re telling me that a little bit of hate fucking isn’t going to fix this-” she makes some sort of weird gesture with her hand that you can’t even begin to comprehend, “-this whatever it is going on between you two?”

Your traitorous mind jumps to the kiss, the way he felt so hot and solid beneath your hands as he pushed you against the wall, the way you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and a shiver runs down your spine.

Never one to miss anything, Ryujin narrows her eyes at you. “Unless you already did that,” she says slowly, taking in every bit of emotion that flits across your face.

“I didn’t,” you say, dropping your gaze to the worn and scarred tabletop. “But I did kiss him.”

“I knew it!”

“It was a one time thing that we both agreed to ignore,” you’re quick to point out, and Ryujin just snorts.

“Yeah. Right. Okay,” she says, “You can miss me with that ‘one time’ bullshit.”

“Ryujin!”

“What?” she shrugs, “It’s true. There’s obviously something there.”

“There’s nothing but hate and animosity there.”

“Again, I point you towards hate sex.”

“How about I point you towards the door instead. God, you’re worse than the internet.”

Ryujin holds her hands up in surrender. “Alright, let’s not get too crazy,” she says, although her smile is still far too smug. She takes another sip of her coffee. “But, just let it be known that I still reserve the right to say I told you so when it does actually happen.”

You just groan, letting your head fall against the table.

A U G U S T

Still though, you can’t help but think about Ryujin's words.

It’s not your fault okay? Ryujin just managed to make your mind conjure up some very…interesting scenarios for you over the last couple of weeks.

You can no longer look at Minho for, every time you do so, you can only picture the feel of his mouth on yours and wonder if it’s just as good at other things as it is as kissing, can only wonder what else those hands of his can do, can only wonder if he is as good as Ryujin slyly told you he was.

It’s turning you into a mess to be honest, which is why, a few weeks after they returned from Season Con, you find yourself blurting out, “Ryujin thinks we should fuck,” as soon as you are left alone in your trailer with him.

You wait until he’s taken a sip of water to say it, and you’re rewarded by him hacking his lungs out.

“Pray tell,” he wheezes, “Why does Ryujin think we should fuck?”

You shrug. “She says that it will help us get along better. You know, once we get rid of all that unwanted sexual tension. Purely platonic fucking and we can actually stand to be in the same room as each other.”

“Right,” he says, and there’s something a bit off to his voice. You look up almost immediately, frowning, and catch the tail end of some unknown emotion flitting across his face. He hitches an eyebrow when he catches you looking. “And what do you think?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I think’?”

He shrugs. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

You don’t understand how he can be so blasé about discussing it, not when you are already three steps closer to looking like an alarmed porcupine.

“I think it could be worth a shot,” you say, as casually as possible with your chin held high.

Across from you his mouth curves into the most sinful of smiles and he looks at you through hooded eyes. “You wanna fuck me, Y/n?” he murmurs, voice dropping several octaves, and it’s all you can do to not squirm in your seat, warmth settling heavy and wonderful in your stomach.

“It’s just a thought, okay? Ryujin might have definitely been onto something and who knows maybe it could work if we just fucked once and got it out of our systems I mean-”

“Hey Y/n?” he says, interrupting your steady stream of nonsensical babble, and you exhale shakily.

“Yeah?” He’s much closer than you remember him being, and when you look up, almost to the point where you can count each individual eyelash, you look elsewhere.

“Shut up,” he murmurs, and then his hand is wrapping around your jaw, bridging the gap between the two of you.

His mouth is just as you remembered, hard and warm, tongue flickering against yours as he pulls your body to him. You make a soft sound of surprise in the back of your throat, and your hands immediately dart to his hair, feeling the silky strands sift through your fingers. His thumb traces your cheekbone as he sucks on your bottom lip, and when your nails scratch at his scalp, he lets it go with a soft sigh of pleasure, kissing you even harder.

“Just to be sure,” you pant once you break apart and he starts sucking kisses down the column of your throat, “We’re doing this right?”

“If science says it’ll work then there’s no harm in giving it a shot,” he rasps against your skin, moaning a little when you pull on his hair.

“Ryujin said it, not science.”

He mutters something too low for you to hear as he kisses his way down to your cleavage. “Ryujin is basically science,” he tells you, looking up from your chest, “I’m taking this off,” he tugs at your camisole.

“I’d be more pissed if you didn’t,” you say, helping him pull it off. You arch up into him with a whimper when he suckles your breast through your bra. “Fuck, Minho,” you moan as you reach behind you to undo the clasp, needing to feel his mouth against your skin now.

His other hand skims across waist, leaving a trail of warmth in its path as it heads towards the snap on your jeans, and he deftly opens it with a twist of his fingers, wriggling his hand inside. “Hope this is alright,” he says, fingertips just ghosting across your underwear as he leans down to swirl his tongue around your nipple.

It takes you three tries to formulate words in your head, and even then all you manage to say is, “Very alright,” trying to tilt your hips to get more friction, feeling the heat of his palm through the thin scrap of fabric.

Only once you have said so does he dive right in, fingers slipping beneath the flimsy material of your underwear to stroke you and you both swear.

“Fuck Y/n,” he swears, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from one breast to the other as his fingers trace up your slit, “You’re dripping. How long have you been thinking about this?”

He sinks blunt teeth into your sternum until you whine. “A – a while. Ever since Ryujin brought it up the first time. And then you show up today – fuck ,” you cry, hips jerking up when his index circles your clit, “Do that again. Please Minho.”

He chuckles, pressing a smacking kiss to the outside of your breast, and repeats the motion, rubbing his thumb on your clit until you whine again.

“You have been thinking about this for what? The past half an hour while I have been sitting right next to you?” he asks, accidentally butting you in the chin as he tries to bite at your collarbone. “Shit babe,” he flicks your clit again, “Bet you’re all worked up, huh?”

“Minho, please.”

“Were you thinking about this the whole time?” he presses, rising up so he can get a good look at your face, your mouth just slightly parted while your eyes keep on fluttering, struggling to stay open. He slows his motions until you make a soft plaintive sound in the back of your throat and he can’t help but bend down to kiss you, sweet. “Come on, Y/n, tell me what you were thinking about,” he lets his teeth graze over her earlobe, “I wanna know, baby.”

“Your hands,” you whine, trying to get him moving again. He has to pin your hips to the couch to stop you from wiggling all over the place and it sends another flare of want through you. “I was thinking about your hands and – and–”

“And what?” he coaxes, letting his fingers ghost across your entrance. You jerk with it, pleasure curling at the base of your spine. “And what else Y/n?”

“Mouth. Your mouth, Minho.”

His lips curl up in a halfway smirk, pleased, and he presses a single finger into you, just barely. “You want my mouth on you, baby?” he asks, “You want my mouth on your sweet pussy?”

You clench down hard at his words, eyes screwed shut, and you feel the warmth flood your face as he laughs lowly.

“Please,” you murmur, and you feel his lips just barely brush across yours before pressing down more firmly in a soft exploratory kiss. He removes his hands, and you whine at the loss of contact, until he breaks the kiss, sinking to his knees before you.

“Whatever the hell you want, baby,” he says as he slowly peels your jeans off. He litters featherlight kisses up your leg, mouthing his way across the crease where your leg meets your hip. And then, without warning, he leans forward, nuzzling his face against your lace covered pussy, and you squeak in surprise. His hands come up to grab your hips, steadying you, and he repeats the motion, this time letting his teeth graze against your clit through the pathetic excuse for underwear, letting you moan.

“So fucking wet,” he mutters again, a hint of awe colouring his voice, and you flush hot, trying to get him to put his mouth on you for real.

He does away with your underwear quick enough, leaving them in a sad little crumpled heap on the table next to the couch, before ducking back down to lick a fat stripe straight up your centre that sends your pulse skittering.

One of your legs hooks behind his shoulder as he steadies himself, and the hands pinning your hips flex, lifting you closer to his mouth as he laps at you with long licks, making an enthusiastic sound in the back of his throat. There’s nothing slow and gentle about it, very little finesse to be found, but it still has you curling your toes and keening loudly, especially when he slips one, then two fingers in, scissoring you wide open so he can truly fuck you with his tongue.

It doesn’t help that Minho seems just as into it as you are, low groans pressing into your flesh, the vibrations of it doing all sorts of things to your body.

His mouth is even better than you thought, and within minutes, you’re pulling on his hair when he sucks your clit in his mouth, high pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat as you clench down hard on his fingers, coming with a broken gasp of his name that has him grunting into the side of your thigh.

He groans when you pull him up, and you lick the taste of yourself out of his mouth while tugging on his stupid robes. He’s still fully dressed in costume while you are laid out wantonly before him.

“Off,” you command, nibbling on his lip.

Minho pushes you away gently, stealing one last kiss before starting to undo the million and one clasp that holds his costume in place. “Condom?” he asks, voice pitched low in a way that makes you shiver. He can’t seem to look away from you, eyes dark with want and you bite your lip.

“I’m supposed to have one in my bag,” you say, stretching for it, “Hurry up."

“You always this bossy?”

“You always this slow?”

Your fingers quickly find the foil packet, and you rip it open as fast as you can. He’s finally naked by the time you turn back around, and you push him down roughly on the couch, climbing onto his lap. He’s all lean muscle, broad and firm beneath you, and you can’t help but run an appreciative hand down his chest as you fix him to your liking.

Minho chuckles, palming your ass as you settle on him. “You are bossy, huh?”

You smile at him sweetly, wrapping your fingers around his cock and feeling him twitch in your palm. “I just know what I want.”

There’s a muscle ticking in his jaw that you just want to bite into as he nods, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Then by all means, Y/n.”

In another time you would taste him, drop to your knees and take him in your mouth, but right now you just want him, already too keyed up from before to do nothing else besides give him one last squeeze and then roll the condom on, quickly sliding onto him in way that has you both groaning.

“God, Y/n,” he shudders, already sounding wrecked. He squeezes your hips again, leaning up to mouth at your breast, and you gasp, rocking down on him.

It takes you a few moments to find the rhythm, and even then it’s still sloppy and hot and oh so good in a way that you find yourself digging your nails into his shoulders. He keeps his mouth on your breasts, and each tug of your nipple sends a shock wave of pleasure directly to your cunt, and you throw your head back with it, moaning.

As you both near climax, your moves get more and more frantic until Minho grabs hold of your hips, pulling you down forcefully, your clit catching on the bump of his pelvis each time, and you come with a broken moan, slumping against him. It triggers his own release, and he thrusts up into you, once, then twice, before tensing up beneath you, coming with a low growl as he sags into the couch.

For a moment there’s nothing but the sound of your harsh breathing, and you sigh into his neck as the sweat cools on your skin.

“We should probably clean up,” he mumbles, eyes still closed and you nod, slowly sliding off of his dick, moaning a little when your cunt gives a feeble little flutter. He just groans unashamedly, staying right there slumped on your couch, arm thrown over his eyes, until you throw his pants at him.

“Get dressed,” you tell him, slipping into your bathroom to clean up. Your skin is coated with a thin layer of sweat and he made a total mess of your hair, but you pay no attention to it, giving yourself a perfunctory rub down with a washcloth before slipping back into your clothes.

When you return, he’s almost ready, fidgeting with his tie. He didn’t bother to do anything with his hair, but it’s not like anyone would be able to tell the difference.

You take a deep breath. “So.”

“So.”

“Think we got it out of our systems?’

He shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. Only time will tell I guess.”

“Right.”

You stand there awkwardly for a moment, neither of you willing to meet the other’s eye until Minho blurts out, “I feel like I’m supposed to shake your hand or something. You know, properly close the deal.”

It gets a giggle out of you. “Didn’t realise we were making a business deal here.”

“Well, you never know,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets with the barest glimmer of a smile. “The handshake makes sure you know that it’s one and done.”

“Oh, of course it does.”

Another bout of silence falls over the two of you during which you just stand there, smiling at each other like a pair of loons until Minho clears his throat.

“I should, uh, probably get going,” he says, raking a hand through his curls as he squeezes past you to get to the door, and you nod.

“Right.”

“Right.”

He turns around just before he leaves, mouth open to say something else, but he ends up just shaking his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “See you around, Y/n.”

now

M A Y

You should have left already. Instead you are lying on the couch, spooning with one Lee Minho as some mindless cop drama plays out on TV. It’s becoming a habit.

“Can you do that with your gun?” he asks, voice dripping onto your skin like honey. One of his hands has found its way under the sweatshirt you stole from him, resting heavily on your stomach.

You barely even glance at the screen. “I can barely even keep a good grip on my gun,” you confess. “It’s always falling all over the place.”

He hums in response before you lapse back into comfortable silence for the rest of the show. You are more than content to lay there, feeling his warmth all around you, his breath stirring your hair, his heart beating against your back.

It’s nice.

Eventually you do have to leave, glancing at the clock on the wall before saying, “I should probably go. It’s getting late.”

Minho makes a soft, plaintive sound in the back of his throat and pulls you closer. “Or you could stay. Ryujin’s flight doesn’t get in for another three hours. You have some time to kill.” His hand skims across your stomach, light, and you actually find yourself considering it.

With a shake of your head you sigh, “No, I really need to get going. I still need to pick up dinner before you get here. And make it look like I was actually living in the apartment these past few weeks.”

He chuckles at that, nosing the nape of your neck. “Point,” he says, even as he tightens his hold on you, reluctant to see you go. “Or we could take a nap, order pizza and forget about cleaning in the first place. You know, like what we’ve been doing everyday for the past week and a half.”

You snort, batting his hands away and finally sitting up. “Right. And then what will I tell Ryujin when she asks why the apartment’s been abandoned for a month?”

He’s silent, causing you to glance at him while you stretch out your arms. Minho is never one to shy away from telling you what he really thinks, and his sudden apprehension has you tilting your head quizzically. Eventually he looks back up at you for a brief second, and then sets his jaw, fingers trailing across your skin distractedly.

“You could always tell her the truth,” he hedges, hand tightening on your waist and you freeze mid stretch.

“Why?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

Minho shrugs, still overly casual and unable to meet your gaze. “I mean, we’ve been sneaking around for a while now. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“No,” you say, slowly, “Because we both said that this was a one time thing, and when it wasn’t, we both agreed not to mention it to anyone. For both our sakes.”

“Well, things have changed now, haven’t they?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “We’ve been doing this for nine months, Y/n.”

“We’ve been doing this on and off for nine months, Minho.”

He ignores you, pressing on, “You can’t tell me everything's the same, especially not after December,” and when he finally looks up at you, your stomach drops.

Ever so slowly, you stand up, stepping away from the couch and out of his reach. The TV is nothing more than white noise in the background.

“Actually, I can,” you say, voice brittle, and he freezes.

You never used to hook up at home, you never used to stay over, you never used to share inside jokes and smiles, tweeting and subtweeting each other, posting selfies together for the world to see.

“Because this has been kept separate from the rest of our lives in a neat little box.”

He sneaks kisses from you sometimes when he comes over to spend the evening with you and Ryujin, holding your hand under the table. You get asked questions about each other at cons, and you distinctly remember that one time he told a fan that you were ‘only a fucking amazing and a phenomenal actress who he’s glad to know.’ You have a drawer of your clothes in his wardrobe, but you still choose to steal his.

“Nothing has changed, Minho, not for me. Not between now and last fucking August.”

You think about the shampoo bottle he keeps in his shower for you, the herbal tea he stocks in his cupboards. You think about how you have memorised his favourite songs, can rattle off his favourite passages from any book to the way he won’t eat ice cream unless it’s in a cup with the cone crumbled into it.

Minho sits on the couch, unmoving except for the clench of his jaw that has the muscle popping. “So I guess that’s that then?” he asks quietly, looking up at you, face blank.

You nod once, your chest feeling too tight. “Yes,” you reply, just as quiet and weak as before, and then turn on your heel to leave. He doesn’t say another word, not even when you shove your feet in your shoes and walk out, the door closing behind you with a soft snick.

You fumble with the key to your own apartment, the too long sleeves getting in the way and you end up swiping furiously at the frustrated tears that have inexplicably gathered in your eyes. Once inside, you brace yourself on the counter, taking deep breaths as your vision blurs for one startling moment, trying to ease the pain in your chest.

Your eyes are still too bright when you pull away, but you steady yourself, pulling off his sweatshirt and throwing it in the dark recess of your closet before starting to clean, trying to get your mind off of things.

It works, somewhat, but later, once Ryujin is home and safely bundled in bed, you sit with your phone in your lap. Minho is the second person in your inbox, right under Ryujin’s flight confirmation, sending you a stupid pick up line a few hours ago. You open up the chat and slowly types out your message with shaking fingers.

Y/n: i think we should stop seeing each other

His response comes seconds later.

Minho: fine.

The words from before have left a bitter taste in your mouth that, no matter how hard you try, you can’t get rid of it. It’s the taste of a lie and heartbreak all rolled up in one, and this time you can’t rid of the tears with just a few swipes.

before: 5 months ago

D E C E M B E R

“What,” you say flatly, still staring at Ryujin, with your arms crossed.

The other girl just smiles at you. “You heard me.”

“What I heard was that you want me to take your place at the award show next week because your dislocated disc is giving you trouble. The very same award show that you were attending with Minho,” you say, still terribly unimpressed, “Surely I heard wrong.”

“No, you heard correct. And I already cleared it with Liv. She thinks it’s a good idea, especially since the show is doing so well.”

“You talked to Liv ?” you sputter, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Ryujin shrugs, looking entirely too innocent from where she’s laid spread out across your couch. “Because I know that you wouldn’t do it if I didn’t bring in the big guns. I’m covering all my bases.”

“Goddammit Ryujin.” You scrubbed a weary hand across your face.

“So is that a yes?” she asked, phone already in hand, “Because I can’t wait to let the internet know about this. Your shipper fans are going to lose their minds.”

You can just imagine, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. Liv’s solution of ‘letting things blow over’ had backfired stupendously and you are certain that at this point everyone and their mother wanted to see you date Lee Minho.

“I fucking hate you.”

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

* * *

That’s how you find yourself a week later, being ambushed by a team of make up artists as they help get you ready for the night while Ryujin sits off to the side with an oversized bag of crisps, flat out cackling at you.

“I really fucking hate you,” you grit out, trying to at eye her while one of the make up hands fix your eyebrows.

Ryujin just laughs again, wincing a bit as she shifts herself on the chair. On one hand, you know that her back has been giving her trouble these past few days, especially because of the cold weather and shooting, but on the other, you really hate her for making you do this.

“You should see your timeline right now,” she snorts, “Everyone is so frenzied.”

“I’m going to beat you to death with a curling iron.”

She just blows a kiss at you, continuing to chortle while you scroll through your phone. “The general consensus is that you’re either going to tell the world you’re finally dating, or let everyone know that you’re pregnant and Minho’s the baby daddy.”

“The only thing keeping me sane right now is picturing stabbing you multiple times with a mascara wand,” you hiss, yelping when someone pulls on your hair a bit too roughly.

“Look on the bright side,” says Ryujin , “At least you too get along now. Somewhat. And I can promise that Minho is an absolute joy to be around during these things. He’s almost better than a hip flask.”

You’re glad that Ryujin’s not paying attention to you, for she would have caught how you can’t maintain an eye contact at the mention of Minho and your relationship.

Turns out that sleeping with Minho couldn’t be a one time thing.

Who knew?

It’s not a regular thing, but you still do it often enough that you’re no longer snapping each other’s heads off, but instead engaging in playful banter.

It’s nice. Somewhat.

You would just like everyone to know that it only started up because he’s just really, really good with his hands.

And mouth.

And…everything else.

You are jerked out of your reverie by a knock on the door, and Ryujin practically flounces over to open it, a massive shiteating grin spread across her face as she does so.

“Minho!” you hear her say, bright and happy, “Come in. She's still not ready yet; give her a couple more minutes.”

“You’re awfully perky for someone who claimed to be in debilitating pain,” he says, sounding suspicious.

“It’s the painkillers. Come sit!”

You catch a glimpse of him as he passes in front of your door and well. Your jaw doesn’t quite drop, but it certainly comes close to doing that, and your cheeks just heat even further.

Minho looks really good in a suit.

Like insanely good.

Ryujin darts back into the room, and, after taking one look at you, she bursts out laughing again, even as she throws herself on the bed. She’s having far too much fun with this, and you kind of want to throw something at him.

“You so want to hit that,” Ryujin whispers, smug.

I am already hitting that, you almost say, the words on the tip of your tongue, but you easily swallow it down, schooling your face into a scowl.

“If you mean take a frying pan to his face then yes,” you nod, and then wince again as a hair pin digs into your scalp.

“All done,” says the girl, before spritzing perfume on you. You almost choke on a cherry blossom scented cloud, and when it passes, Ryujin is standing by the door, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. You may or may not have deliberately stepped on her good foot.

“Come on Cinderella,” she says, linking your arm through yours once you stand up, “Let’s get you to the ball.”

“I hope a spider crawls in your mouth when you’re sleeping tonight.”

You do manage to school your face in a pretty neutral expression when you enter the living room, and it seems as though Minho was preparing himself beforehand, as he barely reacts to your appearance, only giving you a cursory look up and down. The only tell is the bob of his adam’s apple when he swallows, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from looking too smug.

“Do I meet your standards?” you can’t help tease him, and his eyes snap up to yours, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I guess you’ll do,” he sighs dramatically, and offers you his arm.

“Have her home no later than eleven, Minho!” Ryujin calls out as you are both walking out the door.

He flips you off behind his back. “Fuck off, Ryujin,” he bites out, succinct.

Her laughter follows you all the way down the hallway and you grumble, “She’s a goddamn menace,” while hiking up your dress to walk down the stairs.

“That she is,” he nods before looking sidelong at you. “You look nice.”

Your heart picks up pace on its own accord. “Thanks. So do you.”

“Thanks,” he says, and you can’t mistake the the humour in his voice. You elbow him in the rib and he laughs. “What? What did I say?”

“You’re a dick,” you huff, still trying to calm your traitorous heart, and that just makes him laugh louder.

“The car should be here in a moment,” he tells you as you come to a stop in the empty lobby. You just hum in response, glancing around aimlessly until he says, “Hey, Y/n?”

Before you can turn to look at him, he’s cupping your jaw, pushing you up against the wall and kissing you sweetly. You make a sound of surprise in the back of your throat, but then you’re kissing him back, just as slow, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of his neck, while the other fingers his tie, and he breathes a soft sigh of relief, pulling you flush against him.

When you pull apart, he rubs his nose against your cheek gently, mumbling, “You look really nice,” and swipes a quick peck to your cheek before pulling away, slipping his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

You are fairly certain the whole neighborhood can hear your heart stammering at this point, but you still reach out for his arm, looping yours through it as you say, “You look really nice too, Minho.”

The boyish grin he gives you makes your heart stutter in your chest, and then he glances at his phone. “Come on; car’s here.”

He helps you into the backseat before slipping in himself, and then lets his arm rest on the small area of your back the entire drive there. You take advantage of it, leaning into his warmth, and you feel him trace mindless patterns on your waist in response.

“You have some lipstick,” you say, noticing the smudge of it on his mouth. He swipes at it with his hand, but misses the spot completely and you reaches up, thumb rubbing the corner of his mouth. “I got it,” you mutter, getting it out completely, and he presses a kiss to your temple in turn.

“Thanks love,” he says, looking at you impossibly soft and you feel warm all over, very different from the first time he called you "love".

You don’t have time to dwell on it though, because soon enough you are pulling up to the venue where the event is being hosted and you are being blinded by the flash of cameras.

The whole walk down the red carpet is a blur in your mind, filled with cameras and questions and the warmth of his arm hooked around yours as he leads you through. You stop only once or twice for pictures, and you paste on a wide grin for those, posing next to him until his arm hooks through yours again, pulling you inside.

The awards themselves are boring, intended mostly for crew members, but Minho keeps you from nodding off with his hand on your thigh the entire time, tracing maddening patterns that you feel even through your layers of skirts.

“Stop that,” you hiss while Chan continues to drone on onstage. You catch his wrist and he flips his hand over, linking your fingers together.

“If we sneak out no one is going to notice,” he mumbles under his breath, “This thing is boring at fuck, and I haven’t had you in over two weeks.”

Despite the flash of heat his words send through you, you say, “And who’s fault is that?”

“Hey, what am I supposed to do? Tell them not to shoot offset because then I wouldn’t get to fuck you?”

“Don’t be crass.”

“It’s true,” he mutters, glaring up at the stage. “Chan doesn’t know when to shut up. I could make it worth your while instead.”

“You know, Ryujin told me that you made these things fun and I needn’t bring a flask, but I’m starting to think that I should have smuggled it in anyway.”

Even in the dim light you can see the shine of his teeth as he grins. “Hey, I’m offering to make things fun and you’re turning me down.”

You turn to run a critical eye over him and he stares back, unflinchingly, his irises more black than brown, and positively irradiating lust. “Hmm. Fine, maybe later. Now behave,” you hiss.

The grin just widens and he leans in close, letting you feel the warmth of his thigh as it presses against yours. “Oh baby,” he sighs, untangling your hands, so that he can go back to teasing you. You manage to repress a shudder when his fingers press against the dip between your thighs through your dress. “You don’t want that.”

Miraculously, you manage to get through the entire programme without drawing too much attention to yourselves, though you do go through quite a few glasses of champagne, especially when you show him that two can play at that game, palming him through his slacks in a way that almost made him choke the first time.

You get out of there as soon as it’s done, escaping fairly unnoticed through the throngs of people, and he goes down on you, quick and messy, in a cramped utility closet, far enough from the hall that you can be as loud as you want. After you repay the favour, giving him a lazy handjob before switching to your mouth when you realise that you have nothing to clean up with.

Neither of you remember to stagger your entrances back into the hall, and slip in with your fingers still tangled together, your dress obviously crumpled and a telltale redness blooming on the apples of Minho's cheeks. To anyone paying attention, it would be clear as day what you were up to, but you are lucky enough that you only garner one or two looks in passing. Minho stays glued to your side, hand heavy on your hip the rest of the night, and when it’s time to leave, he slings it around your waist, keeping you close.

You make out for a while, trading soft sloppy kisses in the back of the car all the way home. He tastes a little bit like champagne, all bubbly and sweet, and you melt into him, carding your fingers through his unruly hair.

“Had fun?” he mumbles against your cheek, exhaling heavily when you bite his jaw. He gropes you in retaliation, and you squeak.

You pull back far enough so he can see your truly outrageous smile. “I guess you made it worth my while after all,” you muse, and he chuckles, pulling your mouth back to his.

He walks you up, arm slung around your shoulders, holding your heels in the other, and you bury your nose in his bicep breathing him in. When you reach your door, Minho lets his arm fall, reluctantly, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. It’s chaste and sweet, and starkly different from any other kisses that you have shared these past few months during your on and off hook ups, and even though you’re somewhat drunk, it still feels like a turning point.

“See you later, Y/n,” he says, with a slight wave of his hand and by the time you gather your bearings to tell him the same, he’s already clicking his door shut.

Ryujin is still up when you walk in, face illuminated by the blue light of her phone screen, and she grins like a shark that’s caught blood.

“Don’t,” you say, slumping against the door. You try to tamp down on the giddiness to avoid suspicion, but Minho left you feeling like you are floating on air.

Her grin just widens and she turns the phone towards you. “There is going to be so much fanfiction written about you two tonight,” she snickers, “You two have been trending on Twitter for almost an hour now,” and you just flip her off, heading to your room.

You throw yourself on the bed with a contented sigh, grinning into your pillow.

later

J U N E

Despite being back in the spotlight for well over a year, you still don’t do very well with interviews.

Most of those in the beginning were what you expected: what happened between you and your ex boyfriend, where did you go for six months, and are you sure you are not in any relationship right now?

Then Minho started getting incorporated into your interviews as well.

If you had a nickle for how many times you have been asked if you were dating, you’d have enough money to buy a small island where you might be able to escape him once and for all. If you wanted to, that is.

It took you a while, but eventually you managed to accept interviews, no longer panicking at the sight of one, but for some reason today you’re on edge, trying not to fidget as you sit on the lime green sofa opposite an annoyingly peppy interviewer.

When she deviates from the script however, you realise that you have had good reason to have been tense all morning.

“So what’s happening with you and Lee Minho? It’s been quite a while since we have seen any interactions between you two.”

It’s been four weeks and three days to be exact, the numbers jumping to the forefront of your mind almost immediately.

Next to you, Ryujin stiffens, all but baring her teeth at the interviewer in a snarl, vastly different from the times when she used to kill herself laughing.

You don’t know exactly what happened between you and him, but you figured out enough when Minho stopped coming around as much, and you started making excuses to avoid seeing him.

You take a shaky breath and flash the peppy woman a tight smile, the closest to a ‘fuck you’ you can give and says, “We’re just friends, that’s all. And we’ve been busy these past few weeks. Not as busy as Ryujin though. She just did this amazing movie…”

Thankfully no one questions your completely unsubtle segue and Ryujin is more than happy to take the pressure off of you.

What’s happening between you and Minho? Well, you still have his sweatshirt crumpled into a ball and hidden in your closet. You have exchanged maybe five words a piece at most, and he still has a drawer filled with your things over at his place. You ran into each other on the last day of filming, your cars parked next to each other, and it reminds you of that first day when you almost had a yelling match right there in the parking lot. Instead, he just nods and gives you a wide enough berth so you wouldn’t even brush against each other as he gets in his car.

You miss him, something which shocked you to the very core when you realised it a few weeks back, and you have never wanted to kick yourself as much as you did then for throwing everything away.

What’s happening between you and Minho?

Who knows; you fucked it up.

later

J U L Y

This year, Seasonal Con is more eventful for two reasons.

The first being that your show has an actual fandom now – a real, honest to god following, larger than you would have thought possible, who are so involved with the show that it’s both amazing and a tad bit scary. Not to mention those who want your character and Ryujin’s to get together.

“We have shippers,” Ryujin had informed you gleefully one night, and you distinctly remember groaning out loud before cursing to high heaven because you have had enough shipper madness to last a lifetime. Possibly even two lifetimes.

The second reason is a bit of a harder pill to swallow.

You got invited to the fan favourite panel on the last day.

And so did Minho.

Who the event supervisors thought would be nice to put next to you for an hour in front of hundreds.

If you get out of this weekend alive, you are going to thank every god and deity you can think of.

Ryujin is understandably worried once you get the news, immediately coming up with a variety of ways to get out of it. “You could fake sick, or pretend to lose your voice,” she rattles off, “Or maybe you fell down in the shower the night before and broke your hip-”

“It’s fine,” you interject, squaring your shoulders. You try to smile at her but you are pretty sure it falls flat. “What’s the worse that can happen?”

She doesn't seem impressed by that answer because she replies, “You and Minho air your dirty laundry for the entire world to see.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you say resolutely.

“At this point I don’t put anything past you two,” she mutters, and you nudge her with your toes.

* * *

The day of the actual panel, you take Liv’s advice and try to meditate in the morning in hopes of calming yourself. It helps a bit; you are not quite as jumpy as you could be, but you are still definitely on edge, clutching your purse like a lifeline as you navigate the halls on your own.

The waiting room is mostly empty, with just a few people here, but that’s not what you pay attention to, eyes immediately landing on Minho, hunched over his phone in the corner.

Your heart squeezes in your chest.

You really, really miss him, didn’t realise just how much of an impact his presence alone has on you.

Before you know it, your feet are taking you to him, and you carefully sit next to him on the loveseat, wiping your palms on your skirt several times.

He doesn’t notice you until you clear your throat, to which he stiffens, very slowly looking up, eyes guarded.

“Hi,” you say, quiet, tucking an errant curl behind your ear.

“Y/n,” he nods, impassive as ever and you feel your throat clog up.

You worry your bottom lip for a moment and see his hand twitch, as though he was about to pull it free. “I, um – can we talk?”

Minho just stares at you for a good minute or so, to the point where you’re struggling not to fidget. Finally he just scrubs a hand down his face and hisses, “Now? You want to talk?”

“I-”

“It’s been an entire month, Y/n,” he says bitterly, shifting away from you, “What could you possibly have to say after an entire month, that we won't work out anything that was between us?”

Your eyes burn and you stare at your hands clenched tightly in your lap. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice catching on the end of it. You can feel him staring at the side of your head, and you press on. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt with everything, and I… I miss you, Minho.”

When you finally muster up the courage to look back at him, his eyes are squeezed shut, pained.

“Don’t,” he manages to croak out and you jerk back as though you have been hit.

“Min-”

“We’re gonna talk about this later,” he tells you after taking a deep breath, “You don’t get to do this right before we do a panel together.”

You nod meekly. “Okay.”

The next hour is the longest hour of your life. You slip on your public persona mask easily enough, smiling and laughing, and answering your questions as coyly as possible, but on the inside you are a mess. A shaking, confused mess.

After the panel is over and all requisite photos have been taken, Minho grabs hold of your wrist and pulls you along behind him. You follow without a word, barely sparing a thought for the shutters you hear going off as you weave through the crowd. That’s a bridge you will cross when you get there. Or you might just avoid it all together. What’s one more thing to the whole ‘Y/n and Minho’ story, right?

Only when you end up outside at the pick up area do you ask, “Where are we going?”

Minho doesn’t even glance over at you. “My hotel I'm staying at. It’s only five minutes away, and a lot more private than a spare room at a convention centre.”

You stare down at your feet, “Okay,” you say, and then follow him in the cab that pulls up.

The short ride to the hotel is tense, and you find yourself biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from speaking after firing off a quick text to Ryujin. Minho still doesn’t look your way, choosing to glare at the window instead, jaw clenched tight, even when you are dropped off, he just jerks his head in the general direction with a gruff, “Follow me.”

Once the door to his room has clicked shut, he turns to look at you, face impassive and arms crossed. “You wanted to talk? Then talk.”

You take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry about before,” you start, “I – you’re one of my best friends here, Minho, one of my only friends here besides Ryujin, and I was so fucking scared when you – I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships, and you – you’re too important to me to lose, so I’m sorry, and it was my fault we got in this whole mess in the first place, and if you forgive me, can we still be friends at least? I miss you.”

You say all of it in one go, and by the time you are through, you're heaving. Still, when he opens his mouth to speak, you hold a palm up and continue, voice wavering, “I just- I really fucking miss you and I’m so, so sorry.”

The words just hang there for a moment while you lean against the wall.

“You through?” he asks with a quirk of an eyebrow. When you nod, he says, “You’re a pain in the ass–”

“Charming.”

“–who’ll argue with me about every fucking thing under the sun no matter what-”

“Oh stop it, I’m swooning, Minho.”

“You gonna be a little shit the whole time, or can I say my piece?” he asks mildly, and you feel stupid. When he’s certain you are no longer going to interrupt, he throws himself back on the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his face. After a few seconds of silence, he confesses, “Ryujin called me out in like two weeks,” voice slightly muffled by his bicep, “Apparently my crush on you was painfully obvious.”

What?

You must have said it outloud because then he’s craning his neck slightly to glance at you, and you just feel like a dense idiot even more, picking your jaw up off the ground. “But you,” you sputter, “You were such a dick!”

He’s groaning again, hiding his face, but if you look closely you can see the tips of his ears tinged red. “I was into you. Am. And terribly so.”

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t want to fuck it up. Which, I realise is what I might have done the moment we agreed to continue having sex with each other, but I was just…so eager to have you in any way I could, even if it meant pretending that I wasn’t pinning away.”

“But…why?”

“Why what?”

You bite her lip, scuffing the toe of your sandal against the carpet. “Why me?”

Minho just gives you a little shrug, smiling helplessly. “Because you are you,” he says, easy as nothing, and those four little words make all the air in your lungs leave with a whoosh, causing you to stumble back against the wall in order to stay upright. “You had me on my ass within seconds with your no bullshit type attitude and I just…I don't know. You threw me for a loop.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he says, messing with his hair. “You – God, Y/n, didn’t you realise? You had me. Every single thing you did just bewitched me, I couldn’t look away, and then I started to get to know you, all of you; the bossy little you who likes to order me around and sleep until noon, and prefers green tea to black, and I…I fell in love with you,” he breathes, tearing his eyes away from yours to stare up at the ceiling, “I don’t know how, or when, but I just- I’m in love with you.”

If his previous statement made the air leave you, then this one makes you feel lightheaded and faint hearted all at the same time. The word ‘love’ echoes throughout your head and you feel a bubble of happiness growing in your chest, and you slip down the wall a little as you try to make sense of the rest of his words.

He chuckles nervously when a few moments pass and you haven’t said anything as yet. “Please tell me if I just fucked up this whole new ‘friendship’ thing so I can take it back. Five second rule applies here, right?”

It startles a faint laugh out of you. “It’s been more than five seconds.”

“Five minute rule then?” And you laugh again, this time louder, and then you are crossing the room to meet him, clumsily climbing on top of him and bracing your hands on his chest.

“You goddamn idiot,” you huff as he grabs your hips, steadying you, “I’m in love with you too.”

The smile that unfurls across his face could crack it in two, absolutely blinding, and you shriek when he sits up suddenly, one hand moving up to cup the back of your neck while the other pulls you into his chest, lips ghosting across yours.

Then he’s kissing you soundly, lips chapped and eager, and it’s messy, the two of you grinning far too widely to make anything work.

“Oh, thank god,” he rasps into your skin, forehead pressed against yours, and then he’s kissing you again, slower this time, and deep, and you just hug him tighter, licking the joy from his tongue, or maybe having yours intermingle with his because you are just so fucking happy, you feel like you are going to float away.

“Hey,” he mumbles against your lips, caressing your cheekbones when you make a move to get you and him to lie horizontal, “Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

You squeeze his forearm. “I know, I just,” you drop your head in the crook of his neck, and he pets you, letting his fingers tangle in your hair. “I just missed you a lot, that’s all.”

His responding smile is achingly soft, and a little shy, and he slowly presses you into the bed, kissing you sweet once more.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs again, and your heart is bursting at the seams at this point.

“Good,” you sigh happily, trailing a hand down his back, feeling the movement of his muscles as they tense and flex beneath his shirt. You hold his face between two palms and look him dead in the eye when you say, “I’m not going anywhere either.”

Minho grins, soft, and when he leans back down to kiss you, you can feel the love bursting from every cell in your body, flooding you with warmth and sunshine from the inside out, making your toes curl.

You are in love with him, and he with you, and nothing on this earth could ever top that.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

[ta3mint]

He’s so beautiful, inside and out <3

Bang Chan ♡ 2 Kids Room Ep. 22 

[ta3mint]

Different

lee minho x reader

word count: 2k

genre: smut, fluff - MINORS DNI

warnings: non idol au, established relationship, soft dom! minho, inexperienced reader, mirror sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (y’all know BETTER), soft soft dirty talk, sliiiiggghhht breeding kink, sliiiiggghhhhttt choking, lots of praise, first “i love you”, reader is slightly insecure but has a lot of *growth*, pretty sure that’s it but if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW

summary: minho is different, in all the ways you deserve.

kofi request: I have 2 requests pls!! Same theme of inexperienced/virgin reader but one with Minho & one with Hyunjin? Pls make them both soft doms, lots of praise & body worship for both fics pls. Thank you so much xx

a/n: the more i write minho, the more he wrecks my biases and im getting scared (@rachalixie collect your man)

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents lee minho as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @whatudowhennooneseesyou - to be added, please send an ask or comment

The more you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more uneasy you felt. What if he didn’t like it? What if he didn’t like you? What if you were thinking too much into this - it’s not like you’ve never had sex before. With Minho it’s just-

Different.

With Minho, you’re scared. Not because he’s ever done anything to make you uneasy, but because of how many times this has gone wrong for you. It’s only been twice, but that’s enough to make you second guess if anyone would want you.

If Minho would want you.

You stood in the bathroom, the sunset filling the room with golden and pink rays as you adjusted your knee high stockings. Was it too much? What if he thought the lacy trim wasn’t pretty like you did? What if-

The front door shut, Minho’s voice projecting his arrival. Fuck, is it already time? You could’ve sworn his class ended in an hour.

You heard him walk into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “You in there, baby?” He called from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Y-yeah!” You responded, voice forcefully cheerful to hide the cracks in it. “You’re here early.”

The sound of his backpack hitting the floor echoed, squeaks of the mattress indicating he sat down. “Yeah, I decided to skip class. Thought we could go ahead and start the weekend. Actually, I picked up some dvds-“

You zoned out, listening to Minho ramble about what he found at the video store. Movies sounded good. Movies sounded fun, and stress free, and you didn’t have to wear this stupid, frilly babydoll-

No. You can’t do this to yourself anymore. You can’t keep putting off something that you want because of two jackasses who led you on. Minho was different.

He was midway through explaining the fourth dvd when you opened the bathroom door rather abruptly, redirecting his attention to you.

Minho’s eyes widen, lips parting slightly as he took in your appearance. Starting at your face and heading south, his eyes covered every inch of you, lingering a bit in a few places before making eye contact with you.

“Oh.”

Oh?

You turned on your heels, heading back into the bathroom to take this stupid fucking outfit off. Minho doesn’t even like pink, what were you thinking?

He moved quickly, hand grabbing one of your wrists to stop you. “Where are you going?”

“To change. This was a stupid idea, I knew you wouldn’t like it-“

“Woah. Hey, hey, hey.” Hands flew to your waist, gently spinning you in his direction and pulling you into him. “Who lied and said I wouldn’t like this?”

You shook your head, focusing on the letters on his shirt so you didn’t have to look at him. “No one. I mean, it’s pink, Min, you hate pink. And I was being stupid and thought that-“

Two fingers found your chin, softly tilting your head up to look at him. When your eyes meet, every self destructive thought you’ve had faded away, so far out of reach it’s like they never even existed. His eyes were always shiny, emotions on display for anyone who cared to look. You never had to guess what Minho was thinking - his eyes always told you. It was the same right now; deep, dark seas spinning with an affection you never felt deserving of and the stars of arousal. The way he looked at you washed your body clean of any insecurity, any doubt in yourself, and replaced it with a bone chilling ache for him.

“I don’t like pink, you’re right.” His voice was intimidatingly low, but gentle in a way that made your knees weak. “But I like anything on you.” Minho let go of your hips, stepping back a bit. “Spin for me, doll. Let me see how pretty you look.”

Hesitantly, you spun in a slow circle, letting Minho take you in. When your back was to him, a happy groan left his lips, your body breaking out into goosebumps at the sound. Completing the circle, you looked at your boyfriend, who was already reaching to touch you.

Minho’s hands grabbed the hem of your lingerie, rubbing the lace between his fingers. “Fuck, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” You watched as he wet his lips as he stared at you, refusing to even blink in case he missed something.

“Min-“

“Can I show you?” He whispered, closing the space between you. Nuzzling into your neck, his lips brushed against your skin, feather light kisses covering the area. “Can I show you how beautiful you are?”

His hands slid underneath the skirt of your babydoll, finding the curve of your bottom and resting there. You nodded your head with a whine, setting the evening into motion.

The hands on you gripped gently, lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, head rolling back to give him more access to your neck. Minho carried you across the room, kisses getting rougher as he reached the corner of the bed. He set you down, falling to his knees in front of you and lips finding a new home on your thighs.

“Thank you.” He mumbled between kisses. “Thank you for trusting me.”

You were lost in the pleasure of his lips, in the feeling of his fingers easing up your thighs. Nobody has ever taken their time to kiss you like this, to worship every inch of your body like you were holy ground. Minho is different; the gentle way in which he’s ridding you of your panties is even more evidence of that.

“I like these.” He whispered, teeth grazing on the edge of your thigh-highs. “Wanna keep these on while I fuck you.”

A gasp fell from the forwardness of his words as he continued to kiss you like it was nothing.

Finally, his lips were closing in on your core, and the insecurities rushed back to you. What if he doesn’t like how you look? How you taste? What if he sees your center and is disappointed? You can’t look, turning your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you prepare for disappointment.

Instead, his hands push your thighs apart, spreading you out wider. Minho hums happily, and you feel two fingers on your slit, spreading you out. “God, you’re ethereal.” Leaning in, his lips press gently on your clit. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

The first lick is gentle, but long - starting at your clit and tracing down to your hole. The second is shorter, tongue running up to your slit and applying just enough pressure to make you clench around nothing. The third is when you think Minho has lost his patience, pressure heavy and speed moderate as he covers every inch of you. His nose is brushing against your clit as he works, groans sending waves of pleasure through your body.

It’s heavenly, the way he licks you like he needs you to breathe. Minho’s moans are louder than yours, adding to the overwhelming sensation. Whimpering, your head rolls back, eyes squeezing shut. It feels so-

And then he stops without warning, groans of frustration leaving your mouth. You want to cry, to ask him why he stopped when he grabs your neck, bringing your head back down.

“Look.” He whispered, turning your head in the direction of the large mirror in the corner. “I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re falling apart for me.”

Hand still wrapped around your throat, he dives back in, no trace of gentleness left in his licks. Any time your head threatens to move, Minho redirects it, keeping your focus on you. On him. The way his head bops as he works, how pretty his hand looks around your throat. Your body, covered in goosebumps and shaking from pleasure. Hair stuck to your face, chest rising and falling. Something about you looked different, but in an incredible way.

It was Minho. Minho made you look different. Made you look…beautiful?

No.

He didn’t make it. He enhanced it. 

You laced your fingers through his hair, tugging gently to get his attention. Without stopping, Minho looked up, sparkly eyes soft.

“Minho? Need you.” You whined as his licks shifted to your clit.

“Already have me, baby.”

“No, need more.” You pulled his head back until he was off of you. Your boyfriend smiled up at you, face as shiny as his eyes. If you looked beautiful, he was ten times so, brown hair framing his face in a way that complimented his cheeks.

Fuck, and he thought you were ethereal?

Sitting back on his knees, Minho began to undress himself. “Dress off.” He gently commanded as he moved on to his sweatpants.

With shaky hands, you let your dress join his clothes on the floor, leaving yourself vulnerable for him. Minho crawled closer to you, hands sliding up thighs, on track to touch every inch of your newly exposed skin.

“Amazing.” He mumbled as his hands cupped your breast briefly. “I love you.”

Everything came to a screeching halt; your breath, his hands. It felt as if time froze - the only thing signifying that it hadn’t was the ticking of the clock.

“What?” Your voice was unstable, shaking from the sudden confession.

When Minho looked up at you, he had tears in his eyes. One tear was already sliding down his cheek, getting lost in the mix of his spit and your slick on his jaw. “I love you.” He repeated, words more confident and sure than ever. “God, I love you so fucking much.”

His lips collided with yours before you could even open your mouth, kissing you with a force that could make planets explode. Tears began to stream down your face as you let Minho lower you onto the bed. He never broke the kiss; not to climb over you, not even when he slid his hardened member inside you.

His thrusts rivaled the passion of his kiss; if his kisses could destroy planets, the way he fucked you could destroy universes. While slow, they were firm, hard, forceful in a way that made your body tremble from just a few.

You broke the kiss, panting as you attempted to catch your breath. Minho didn’t stop, simply moving on to cover over parts of your body with his love. “Min-“

“I love you.” Each word was followed by a hard thrust, the butterflies in your stomach starting to flutter out of control. “Love you so much, wanna fill you up so everyone knows you’re mine.”

Your back arched, body beginning to break under his hold. “D-do it.”

He laughed softly, looking up to meet your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to pump you full, baby? Cum, and I’ll give you every last drop of mine.”

Already partially there, his words succeeded in pushing you to the edge, butterflies escaping your grasp. Minho followed almost immediately, lips finding yours as he filled you to the brim.

Without pulling out, Minho crashed on top of you, head nuzzling into your neck. Your hands found his back, softly scratching it as the two of you tried to collect yourself.

“Mean it.” He mumbled against your skin, barely audible. “I love you.”

Head turning to the side, you caught a glimpse of your tangled bodies in the mirror. Minho, skin glistening with sweat and clinging to you like you would fall through his fingers if he tried to let go. You, makeup smudged from sweat and tears, lips swollen from Minho’s touch.

“I love you.” Those words, which have never been easy for you to say, left so confidently, so boldly and beautifully. They had a different taste on your tongue; a sweeter one, one that consumed you and gave you a rush you’ve never felt before.

They were different because Minho is different. They were different because they weren’t only directed at him, but at you as well.

©: chvnnie 2022

[ta3mint]

Teach Me

hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

word count: 2.1k

warnings: non idol au, mentions of alcohol (both reader and hyunjin are sober), stripping game (?), cocky!hyunjin, virgin!reader, innocence kink, mentions of masturbation, kinda dom!hyunjin, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no piv, i think that’s all? if i missed anything - PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: hyunjin doesn’t cheat to win - only to lose.

kofi request: I have 2 requests pls!! Same theme of inexperienced/virgin reader but one with ____ & one with Hyunjin? Pls make them both soft doms, lots of praise & body worship for both fics pls. Thank you so much xx

a/n: happy monday! have some porn with minimal plot! (ps: promise the next one will have more praise than this one)

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents hwang hyunjin as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @whatudowhennooneseesyou - to be added, please send an ask or comment

The beer bottle spun in a circle, speed gradually slowing until it picked the next victim: Hyunjin, who sat next to you on the carpeted floor. Seeing that he was picked, a smug smile crossed his face as his hands fell to his belt buckle. He took it off, dropping it in the space between you and him.

“That’s all you get.”

A collection of groans and curses left the group, most of the party agreeing that a belt didn’t count as an item of clothing, but it was too late to challenge him as the bottle was already spinning again.

You looked at the man on your left, legs spread and back against the edge of the couch. He had been teasing this entire game, taking off insignificant items of “clothing” and counting that as his turn. The only large piece he had taken off was his shirt, which wasn’t even that big of a deal because he promptly put his denim jacket over his bare chest. He was definitely cheating, leaving him the most clothed person in the group.

The bottle landed on Felix, who’s only item left was his boxers. Hyunjin smiled wickedly as he leaned in Felix’s direction.

“Take ‘em off, pretty boy.”

Felix shook his head, grabbing his drink as he stood. “Nope. I’m out.” He brought the solo cup to his lips, chugging the rest of his drink before leaving the group and taking his clothes with him.

The rules of strip spin the bottle were easy; strip, or finish your drink and forfeit. Felix was the second person that evening to choose the latter, and you couldn’t say you blamed him, especially when you were close to doing so yourself.

You had tried Hyunjin’s method, but got called out before you got away with only taking off your necklace. After Felix left, you were the least clothed; a one sleeved crop top and a pair of silk, black panties the only pieces of clothing left on your body. You weren’t wearing a bra under your top, so if the bottle landed on you again, you would have to drink, or risk exposing yourself to your entire friend group.

The bottle stopped on Hyunjin again, who just rolled his eyes as he stood up, deciding that his pants were his next best move.

“You’re lucky I didn’t wear my rings today.” And then the tight leather was on the floor, Hyunjin’s long legs now on display for all to see. Including you, whose face was flushed as you tried to avoid staring at him. The briefs he wore didn’t help; the way they hugged his body left little to the imagination, showing off his pretty toned ass and the semi he was sporting.

After spinning the bottle, he sat back down. As the bottle spun, Hyunjin turned to you, acknowledging you for the first time since the beginning of the game.

“Looks like you’re close to losing.” He teased, scooting closer until your thigh was touching his. “Wonder which one of us will go first.”

You watched as the bottle landed on Chan, who contemplated taking off his boxers before deciding a tequila shot was better than letting everyone see what he was packing. “It isn’t fair when you cheat.”

“Is it cheating-“ The bottle was spun again, and you held your breath as it started to slow down in your direction. “-or is it just playing smart?”

The lip landed just short of you, the person on your right grumbling as they removed their pants. Slowly, the group began to dwindle, leaving you and Hyunjin as the final two. He had lost his jacket a few rounds ago, leaving him as clothed as you were.

Long fingers reached out, spinning the bottle hard. Everyone else had left the living room, deciding to redress and drink elsewhere in the house. It should comfort you that this game was coming to an end and you were alone - maybe you could convince Hyunjin to end it early. But the fire in his eyes told you he wasn’t backing down until you were naked in front of him.

“What happens if it doesn’t land on either of us?” You asked, eyes fixed on the bottle.

Hyunjin shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “We spin again.”

“But the odds of it actually landing us is so slim. Why don’t we-“

“Undress now?” You looked at him, wearing the same cocky smile he had all night. “If you want me naked so bad, all you have to do is ask.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off like you weren’t interested in seeing him naked. It would have worked, but then you pulled your knees up to your chest to hide the way your legs were shaking.

Hyunjin saw right through you.

A hand shot out, stopping the bottle in his direction. Hyunjin stood up, chuckling as he grabbed the waistband of his briefs.

“You win.”

Your jaw dropped as his underwear fell to the floor, his entire body on display for you to take in. His chest was nothing new - you had seen (and fantasized about) it many times throughout your friendship. What was new was his semi hard cock, heavily hanging between his legs. You pressed your lips, swallowing hard as you tried to pretend like he wasn’t affecting you.

“What um-“ you avoided his eyes, trying to look anywhere but him. “-what now?”

“Well.” Hyunjin’s hand fell to his cock, wrapping around it and slowly pumping himself. “You can either tell me you don’t want this and we can act like you haven’t watched me jerk off. Or, you can come over here and let me bury my head in your cunt.”

The room began to close in on you, making it harder to think. Hyunjin, a friend you’ve had for years, standing in front of you so casually offering to give you head. Like you were discussing the weather.

“Wh-what if someone walks in?” You said, finally deciding to meet his eyes. It was a mistake; the way he was looking down at you, eyes sparkling with excitement made your body tingle in ways you’ve never felt before.

“They know better than to come in now.” He said, lowering to his knees in front of you. “But if you don’t want this, you can-“

“No.” You cut him off so confidently that it shocked you. “No, I want this. I just…”

Hyunjin moved closer to you, a hand finding your knee and rubbing it with his thumb. He said nothing; eyes soft as he waited for you to continue.

How do you say it? How do you say you do want him - that you want him so bad you can’t even think straight when you don’t even know what it’s like to want someone in this way? It felt like a lot of pressure to put on him, and while you didn’t want to scare him away, not telling him might be worse.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you spoke. “I’ve never…done this before.”

The blonde cocked his head, eyebrows scrunching with confusion. “What, gotten head?”

You shook your head. “No. Well, yes, but not just that-“

“So you’re a virgin?”

Guess you didn’t have to tell him. He figured it out all on his own.

“Yes.” You responded meekly, avoiding his gaze yet again and choosing to focus on a loose string. “I’ve only ever kissed someone, never like, gone all the way. So I understand if - you know -you want to walk away. I can pretend like this-“

“Do you want me to give you head? Yes or no.”

“I mean, yes, but-“

“No buts. It’s a yes, or a no.”

You sighed, meeting his eyes again. “Yes.”

The hand on your knee was now pushing up your thigh - slowly, but enough to make your legs spread just a bit. “Me too.” He whispered, his other hand moving to massage your calf. “Tell me you want me.”

Hyunjin lifted one of your legs, hooking your foot over his shoulder as he slowly lowered you onto your back. The hand on your thigh was growing closer and closer to your center, making your skin chill. “W-want you, Hyunjin.”

He hummed, kissing the leg on his shoulder. “Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” Hyunjin lowered his body, the kisses following his journey down, stopping only when his nose brushed against your clothed core. Fingers found your hips, hooking the damp panties and pulling them down your leg.

There was something about the way he smiled when you were exposed to him that sent a wave of electricity through your body. Nobody had ever looked at you that way - like you were everything they’ve ever dreamt of and more. It was enough to make you forget about the party in the other room, how anyone could walk in and find Hyunjin staring at you like a starved man. All that mattered was him, and how good you already felt from just a look.

“Hmm, so beautiful. Tell me, love.” Hyunjin’s hand slid underneath your thigh, gripping your ass and pulling you close. “When you touch yourself, how do you make yourself feel good?”

His breath fanned across your core when he spoke, making you feel lightheaded. “I don’t-I don’t know, I don’t-I mean, I’ve never…done that.”

It was hard to be too sure, considering half of his face was hidden between your legs, but you were almost certain his eyes darkened for a beat before he smiled wider. “Oh, sweet girl.” Hyunjin pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, the closeness of his lips making your back arch. “So innocent, you don’t even know how to take care of yourself. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

His lips were on you before you could process his condescending words, diving right in. Latching on to your clit, Hyunjin moved his tongue in a circular motion, his pace relentless. It was almost impressive how quickly you broke; back arching as you released moans that rivaled the volume of the music. It wasn’t possible to feel this good, right? This had to be a dream - something you’ve made up in your head.

But then his teeth scraped your clit right as a finger began to stroke your entrance, and fuck, were you brought back down to earth.

You looked down to see his bright eyes watching you, soft as they took in every reaction you gave. That made you dizzy enough - the fact that he couldn’t look away - and he only made it worse by easing a finger inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Hyunjin-“ you whined, head hitting the floor.

He pulled off, the sounds of his finger slowly fucking you making your mouth water. “That’s it, baby. Let everyone at this party know who gets to have you first.”

You wish you knew where you got the confidence to lace your fingers through his hair and shove his face back to your cunt. All you knew is that you never wanted him to stop, even for a second.

Hyunjin laughed against you, making your core vibrate. “Greedy, greedy girl.” This time he didn’t pull away to speak, letting your cunt muffle his words. “I like it.”

Another finger squeezed inside, giving you little time to get used to the stretch before Hyunjin was fucking you at the same pace as his tongue. The pain quickly morphed into pleasure, the feeling of being full so wonderful you felt it everywhere. In your toes, in your hands, in your legs, in your inner thighs…

Your body began to twitch, moans turning into pants as you pulled on Hyunjin’s hair. Sweat was trickled down your forehead, and soon enough, your legs had snapped around his head, hips beginning to move on their own.

“Weird.” You whined, shutting your eyes as tears began to prickle. “Something feels weird, Hyunjin-“

Instead of answering verbally, he answered by finger fucking you harder, mouth fully latched onto your clit. The new feeling was overwhelming, making you torn between begging him to stop or begging for more. Before you could decide, everything went fuzzy, stars erupting in your eyes and jaw unhinging. Quickly, Hyunjin pulled his fingers out, replacing them with his tongue as he lapped you up with a loud groan.

When finished, Hyunjin pulled away from you, sweat dripping down his face and mixing with your slick that painted his mouth and chin. He crawled over your body and laid down beside you, turning his head to smile at you.

“How was your first lesson?”

Unable to speak, you lifted your left hand, middle finger speaking for you.

Hyunjin laughed, hand grabbing yours and bringing it up to his mouth. He pressed soft kisses along the back of it, stopping at your wrist just to work his way back up. “Did good, pretty girl. Let me know when you’re ready.”

You rolled your head over, face scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“For your next lesson. What, you didn’t think we were finished, did you?”

©: chvnnie 2022

[ta3mint]

i saw that

pairing: chan x reader word count: 1.3k rating: 18+ warnings: possessive chris. public stuff. a/n: i literally wrote this on my 13hr flight home from seoul .. sleep deprived to hell and back. if there's any mistakes pls extend your forgiveness

“i fucking saw that.” 

you knew, you always did. you were merely performing for him after call. making sure all the mens eyes were trained on you before smiling a little more coyly than chris appreciated. it was something of a game, to you. from chris’ side of the room, it certainly appeared to be an act of defiance… a challenge. you steal a glance from an eager man, and turn your gaze to chris immediately — as expected, his expression is soured. rotten, actually. he doesn’t meet your eye, rather, he looks you up and down before mouthing those words in your direction. too angry to offer you the respect of eye contact. 

what awaits you when you find yourself out of the club remains to be seen. chris was an ocean, unpredictable, unyielding… but there always is a calm before a storm. 

the night isn’t far aged when you feel the commanding hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the club, away from the thudding music and neon lights. you leave the scene behind, along with the broken promises to men now forgotten. 

chris leads you outside, silently, into the cold. his hand remains bound to you, regardless, a small nod to anyone who might think otherwise that you are taken. spoken for. 

a taxi is hailed quickly and you’re shoved inside, chris following hastily behind. his aftershave just about permeates every square inch of the cramped car; he takes the right most seat, and, when you assume the opposite seat at the left side, his hand  finds your neck and he silently commands your move to his side. arm raised, awaiting your embrace. 

so, perhaps he was not as pissed as one seems. you begin to think you might have taken your games too far for one night. the stoic impression on your boyfriends face gives away nothing — but then again, it never did. 

you nuzzle his side, breathing in his scent. when you open your mouth to speak, his hand raises immediately, shushing you without verbalisation. 

“you.” he begins. his voice barely a whisper against your ear. “you think you’re pretty fucking funny, yeah?”

ah, hook, line and sinker. you smile. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you suck a simper through your teeth, placing a hand on his thigh. 

“you should think very carefully about where this conversation is going, babygirl.” still, chris looks forward to the road ahead, but his body stiffens against your own. 

“i was just having some fun.” you say, your facade of innocence so transparent it actually earns a scoff straight from chris’ mouth. you continue, “you should consider it sometime. fun, that is.” 

chris stiffens again, his hand that dangles by your face swallowing into a tight fist. “fun?” he repeats, though you are certain he did not mishear. “fun…” he says it again, tongue stuck through his teeth, “alright.” 

now, he chances a downward glance at you, his eyes stern and dark. his other hand, finds your thigh. his touch so light its barely there. 

“so, that’s your idea of fun, yeah?” chris breathes against your neck. in fact, you’re sure his sentence slips into a growl toward the end. he trails his fingers up and down your thigh, feeling the goosebumps that rush over your skin. 

you neglect an answer, so he asks again. “tell me. tell me all about your idea of fun.”  

his fingers roam under your skirt, higher, higher and higher… before stopping completely. not without an answer, it seems. 

“i— i wanted to make you jealous.” you say, lip tight under your front teeth. and the breathy unamused laugh that chris releases flush against the hot skin of your neck sends shivers all the way down your spine. 

“mmm,” chris hums, as if we was expecting the answer the whole time, “and why’s that?” a finger, ever-so-gently, prods at your sheathed pussy. 

the taxi driver meets your gaze in the rear view mirror and you make a feeble attempt to close your thighs and will chris’ fingers away. but he’s stronger. “answer me.” he says, pressing into your soaked heat harder. 

you whimper, a little too audibly for your liking and look down at your own knees, the view of chris’ thick, veiny arm disappearing up your skirt almost being too much to look at, never mind the very sensation of it. 

“you— it’s hot when you’re jealous.” you croak out, holding onto the moans in your throat for dear life. it’s another answer chris was expecting. he laughs again, pressing his lips against your neck and running his tongue along a favoured expanse of sweaty skin. 

“yeah?” he says, not really asking anything. “now, that doesn’t sound like it’s very fun for me, now does it?” now, two of his fingers circle your clothed clit, rough enough that you’re biting back a yelp. the taxi driver peers back again and the blood rushes to your exposed face. “you think it’s fun for me to watch men drool all over you? you think i want to see the way people look at you when they’re thinking such filthy fucking thoughts about you?” 

his whispering crossed the threshold towards growling in an instant. his fingers pushing harder against you the more he talks, you screw your eyes shut, curling into chris’ body as much as he’ll allow. he keeps you positioned nicely so his fingers never leave your heat. when you fail to answer his question, his free hand snakes around your jaw, gripping your mouth and cheeks roughly. “answer me. do i wanna see that?”

you shake your head as much as his grip allows. “no. no, no.” 

“look at me.” comes a gentler command. 

hesitantly, your eyes flutter open and you stare straight into chris’ eyes that are simultaneously so full of both love and venom. 

“you are all mine, yeah?” his hand lowers from your face to your neck, where he holds you, stern but gentler than before. “wan’ hear you say it.” he says, bringing your mouths together for a long, languid kiss. in the meantime, with his other hand, he pushes your underwear to the side and rubs his fingers through your folds, completely slicking himself in your mess — it’s making it rather difficult for you to form sentences, but you couldn’t deny him. 

“yours. i’m yours. i’m all yours.” you breathe into the kiss, feeling embarrassingly close to an orgasm. you whimper and squirm, and chris knows right away. 

“oh, pup. you’re close? i’ve barely touched you.” his voice is dripping in faux sympathy, a cheeky grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “you’ve already made such a mess of the taxi. tsk.” 

shit. you’d almost forgotten that there’s another person in here with you. and the embarrassment completely flushes your cheeks red but… also sends all the right signals to your cunt that chris is so meticulously stroking right now. he slides his fingers across your clit and down to your opening, back and forth, back and forth. the slow pace has you bucking your hips towards him. 

“ah. ah. easy there.” he taunts, “don’t wanna cum already, do you?” 

but you do. you nod. your head again and again and again, and you know you’ve fucked up by admitting it because chris is the furthest thing from a merciful tease. he scoffs and tugs his hand away from your pussy, his entire hand absolutely soaked by now. you whine at the sudden loss of pleasure, and you whine loud enough that the entire taxi hears you. but chris just pouts back at you, mocking the face you always make when he denies you an orgasm.

“poor pup. gotta wait until we’re home.” he whispers, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. 

you cross your legs in an attempt for some friction between your thighs and chris laughs, loud. like he couldn’t hold it in, like seeing you so, so desperate was utterly hysterical. 

“so,” he says, mouth against your ear once again, “who doesn’t know how to have fun?”

[ta3mint]

first time with bangchan

↝ bangchan x fem. reader

↝ warning: explicit content ,fluff, minors dni!!, dirty talk, protected intercourse, fingering, handjob

↝ summary: having first time with your loving boyfriend. this was a request by: @whatudowhennooneseesyou

↝ word count: 2.2k words

“Are you 100% sure about this?” Chan asked, his warm hands trailing up and down your bare thighs as you sat in his lap. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and your forehead pressed against his. He’s been your boyfriend for some time now and knowing you were a virgin, he was always respectful. He’d never touch you the wrong way, he’d keep his hands above the waist but you started feeling like you wanted more. You needed more of him.

“I am… I really want you. I want us to do this…” You whispered, pressing your lips to his. His hands slid under your shirt, gently caressing over the soft skin. His fingers traced circles over your back, every touch igniting fire deep inside of you. Your hands tangled in his hair, the soft locks he was so embarrassed about but it was one of your favorite things about him.

He hummed in kiss before rolling you both around and laying you down on bed. His body hovered over yours and his hips slid between your legs. You moaned in response when you felt his clothed bulge press against your underwear. It was his first time hearing you moan like this and his breath was caught in his throat, his fingers squeezing your hips tighter, already making little red markings.

“Chan…” his name escaped your lips like a breath, making the hair on the back of his neck and arms stand up, shivering from head to toe. Your voice sounded so sweet, yet so dangerous and sexy, and to think he barely touched you. “I know baby. I know…” He whispers and works quickly to slide your shirt off. Your first instinct was to cover your fully exposed chest now. You’ve never done this before and especially you’ve never been this naked in front of a man. Then, you remembered that this is no any man. This is your boyfriend and you trust him. “It’s okay, baby don’t be shy…” His voice was so soft and reassuring as his hands moved yours, exposing your breasts. “So beautiful…” He whispers and leans in, starting to kiss over your collarbone and neck, before making his way down between your breasts and to your tummy. Every kiss he left was more hot and loving than the previous one.

“May I?” Chan whispered as he finally reached the hem of your shorts. You bit your lip and just nodded, too immersed in his look to actually answer. He hooked a finger on each side of your hips and started pulling your shorts down. The more the shorts went the more he pecked your skin, until he reached your underwear. You didn’t plan it, but it was one of the cutest pieces that you had. Red, lacey panties that barely did any job in covering anything. You loved them though, they always made you feel sexy and now you were thanking the almighty lords for deciding on wearing them today.

“Fuck…” he choked on his breath as he saw them, looking up at you. He felt his cock twitch in his pants, he never thought he’d see you this hot. Chan’s reaction made you giggle a little, it was hot, but cute “Do you like them?” You asked. “They’re so pretty…too bad they have to go” He chuckles. He looks up at you and with his teeth, he bites the edge of the panties, starting to pull them down your legs. “Oh my God…” you whispered and bit your lip, your thighs squeezing instinctively. He was so hot and to be honest you’ve only seen things like this in movies, you never expected him to do something like this. “How are you so hot, Bang Chan?” you say and you pull him back down on top of you, pulling him to a heated kiss.

He chuckled in kiss and his hands flew down, touching over the sensitive bud. First time touching you there, and it felt heavenly. He rubbed circles over it, adding pressure on it from time to time which just made you moan even more. “Does that feel good?” he smirks, sudden change in his voice takes you by surprise. He sounded much more dominant now. You felt like you needed to play along.

“Yes…it feels good…” You nodded quickly, looking him in eyes. Chan’s eyes were darker, he looked at you like a hungry animal spying on its pray. Like he was going to devour you any second now.

His fingers moved from your clit down to your entrance and a groan escaped his lips when he felt how wet you already were. “All this for me…?” he chuckles darkly “How beautiful…”

“C-chan…” You couldn’t help but moan. You never felt like this and you never felt this good. “More…” You whispered.

Chan hears it and obeys, giving you more that you wanted. One of his finger slowly slides inside of you, the tightness of your walls swallowing it immediately. Your hands grip tighter on his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his skin which made him hiss a little. His finger pumped in and out of you gently and soon he added a second finger, stretching you even more.

“Chan, shit…” You cried out. “It will go away soon, I know…trust me. Do you trust me?” he asked, voice gentle and soft. And you just nodded, because you do trust him.

His fingers moved in and out of you in steady pace and soon the feeling of discomfort switched with pleasure. You moaned his name over and over again while he kissed your neck. Chan’s teeth grazed over your neck, nipping on a few spots and then licking over it to soothe it. “So pretty…” he mumbles against your skin and his hand starts working faster, the heel of his palm smacking against your clit with every thrust. He would curl his fingers here and there just so he can reach the deepest spots inside of you. Chan wasn’t inexperienced, he knew as soon as your walls started clenching around him it was the sign that you are about to cum. He wasn’t having none of that, not until he is fully inside of you. He pulled his fingers out, leaving your hole gaping. You whined in response, your hands pulling on his shoulders more “Chan! What are you doing, why did you stop…?”

“Because it’s not the end…” he smirks “I’m not letting you cum until I fuck you.” The way he spoke to you made your thighs shake. He sat up and you admired his perfectly sculpted body: wide shoulders, strong arms, perfect chest and a six pack. You could just eat him up.

He grabbed the edge of his boxers, starting to slide them down. Are you ready for this? You don’t know.

He slid them down and his hard cock popped out, standing straight and proud right in front of you. You gasped. He was big… much bigger than you imagined. For a second, you were concerned, but you just remembered how this is your boyfriend and he is caring and he would never hurt you. But you couldn’t help yourself but wonder “Would it fit?”

He started jerking it up and down, spreading the liquid that leaked from his tip all over his cock. Chan noticed how you stared hungrily at his cock and he chuckled “Do you wanna try it baby?” “T-try what?” you looked up at him dumbfounded. Chan smiled at your cute reaction “Take your hand and put it around my dick” he says, and takes your hand to show you “Like this…” he whispers. You continued the movements like he showed you. Chan’s head rolled around and back, his lips parting and praises leaving his mouth. “My princess…oh that’s so good… you’re so good…” is what he kept on repeating. The praises made you more confident and you continued jerking him until his shaft felt as if it’s going to explode.

“That’s good baby that’s enough…” he moved your hand and leaned over, taking his wallet to take the condom out. You watched his every move as he put the plastic between his teeth and ripping it open.  He took it out and rolled it down his cock, then sat on the heels of his feet right in front of you. He took your legs and gently placed them over his shoulders.

“Are you ready?” he whispers, his other hand moving to caress your cheek softly, his thumb sliding over your bottom lip. You nodded “Mhm… more than ever…” you said. You felt his tip rub against your clit, before slowly starting to push it inside.

You grabbed the sheets, tugging on them hard. The pain was for sure there, it wasn’t the worst thing you’ve ever felt, but it was uncomfortable. Your eyes shut and a small tear ran down the side of your face. Chan stopped his movements, and caressed your thigh gently “It’s okay… it will go away” he whispers. You held on tightly and waited for a few moments until you got adjusted to the new, invading feeling. Slowly and steady, Chan pushed inside until he was fully in. It took time but you were there and the feeling was so amazing.

Chan hovered over you again and kissed you a few times and then started thrusting, slow and steady. You moaned against his lips, hands flying up again to grab his arms. Your whole body shakes, both from his thrusts and from the pleasure inside your lower stomach and you feel like you’re ascending. The way his cock hits every single weak spot inside of you, you never believed someone could be this good at sex and know how to control his every move that well. The pain completely disappeared at this point and all you can feel is how good Chan’s cock is making you feel.

“Ah, fuck! Chan!” you cried out, clawing your nails on his back. Just hearing you moan and whimper for him is making his chest swell with pride, making him want to ruin you so much. “You love it don’t you?” he smirks “You enjoy how good I fuck you, little princess?” he says, his words making your stomach twist and turn. You couldn’t respond, your brain being a mush and just mumbles and moans coming out. “Your tight pussy is swallowing me so well baby…taking me in all the way in, I don’t know how much longer I can last…” Chan grunts, the smell of his skin engulfing you. Your lips latched on the skin of his shoulder and you could only feel the saltiness of his sweat that covered him. His thrusts became desperate, harsh, quick, he felt as if he was about to cum any second.

No matter how much he wanted to delay it and how much he wanted to stay inside of you forever, he knew he had to release or he’ll burst. “Please! Chan, right there!” you moaned. It was like a trigger for him, he thrusted so hard that your whole body jerked up and down with each thrust. Seconds later Chan started cumming, the sticky fluid filling insides of the condom. Like on a command, you felt your lower stomach clench and a strange fluid started flowing out of your pussy too. You knew this was what they described, that you came.

Chan needed time to regain his conscience after all that, laying on your chest and panting. He held you so tightly as if you were going to disappear any second. “That was perfect…” You were the first one to speak. He nodded, planting a soft kiss on your chest “It was more than that…it was magical” he says “If I haven’t loved you like crazy before, now I sure fucking do.” He says. Those words rang in your ears “I love you, I love you…”

It was the first time any of you said it. You looked down at him “What did you say?” His look became nervous. “I um.. I love you…” he admitted. You didn’t know how to react for first few seconds out of shock. You thought when that moment would happen, but you didn’t expect it to be so random and out of blue. Did you think about it? Do you love Chan? Yes. Even more now.

“I love you too Chan…” you finally said it, the nervousness on his face disappeared and a wide smiled appeared. “Really? You really do?” he asks, laying on his elbows to look at you “I was so worried you wouldn’t say it back…” “Why wouldn’t I, Chan?” you said softly, your hand moving to caress his head and move his messy, curly lock out of his forehead. “You are so wonderful to me, how can I possibly not love you?”

“Stop it” he blushed, hiding his face in his hands “I am not that great.” You smiled at how cute he was “You are. You are the most wonderful person in the world… and you’re only mine.”

“Only yours” He smiles and leans in, giving you a deep, loving kiss. You knew then and there, you just got yourself the man of your dream.

[ta3mint]

dahlia.

⇥ info: hyunjin + edging; explicit smut

Hyunjin looked a little too good with a blindfold on, but damn, you wished you could see his eyes.

Keep reading

[ta3mint]

either a minho best friends to lovers or enemies to lovers with an angry confession 😩😩

Promises

Contains: university au, best friends to lovers, Minho x fem!reader, angst with a fluffy ending

Warnings: toxic relationship with an on/off male lover, mentions of gaslighting behavior/emotional abuse, insecure reader, harsh language/cussing, yelling from both Minho and reader

Word Count: 2,411

It wasn’t that you meant to keep going back to him every time he begged you to. It just kind of kept happening. It was a cycle; after every break up would come a make up, so to speak. 

You knew that he was the reason you felt like you did everything wrong, as well as the reason you were afraid of everything. He would blow up about something and take it out on you, and you just let him. Deep down, you also knew he was no good for you. 

But you fell for it every damn time, his apologies laced with a certain something that lured you in like a predator does its prey. Truly, they were nothing but pretty promises woven in between festering lies. 

“Just give me one more chance, (Y/N). You know I love you; it was me, it wasn’t you that was in the wrong. Please forgive me. Please take me back. You just misunderstood me, that's all.”

His words from today’s conversation kept replaying in your mind, and you tried not to think about how every time it was just a different combination of the same ones. Over and over again... but you just couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. That was what you hated the most about this whole thing. When you were lonely was when things got the worst in your mind. Even being with him made it a little better. You supposed it was the comfort of familiarity. Besides...what if this time truly was the time he would change? 

You shook your head suddenly to clear the thoughts. You didn’t have time to think about it right now. This was a problem for later, and it was one that could be solved with a few texts. Minho was waiting for you to study with him in the library for a big test coming up, and you couldn’t leave him hanging. He was your best friend, after all. 

~

Only a few minutes late to your scheduled meet up time in the library, you made your way over to Minho sheepishly. He was buried in a thick book, flipping a pencil between his fingers in concentration. 

As you got closer to him, you thought he hadn’t noticed you. But he quickly proved you wrong for the umpteenth time in your relationship.

“I was just wondering to myself if I should text you,” Minho said quietly, not looking up from his book. 

You bit your lip, sliding into the seat across from him as quietly as you could. 

“You okay?”

Minho looked up this time when he spoke, making eye contact with you over the edge of whatever he was reading. But his neutral expression quickly turned into one of confusion once he noticed your tension. 

"Is it him again?"

You gulped, scolding yourself for being so easy to read.

"And don't say it isn't. I know that look," Minho sighed, shifting in his seat to sit up straighter.

Damn, he's good.

"Let's just not talk about it. We came to study, remember?"

Minho nodded, not sparing you another glance before looking back to the text in front of him. He seemed more gruff than usual today. Weird.

"That we did. Glad you remembered."

You blinked a few times, stunned into silence. What had gotten into him?

Trying in vain to shove it out of your mind, you dug through your bag to get your book out, not totally sure what you were in for today.

~

Thankfully, Minho seemed to be in a better mood as time went on. You knew he would scold you at some point though, just like he always did when you went back to your ex. Part of you knew Minho was right and you deserved every bit of his lectures and it made you beat yourself up even more.

The two of you stayed in the library studying until it got dark, only taking a few breaks to use the bathroom and grab snacks occasionally. You glanced down at your phone and mentioned to your study partner that it was getting really late.

"Well," Minho said with finality, clamping his book shut, "I think we're as knowledgeable as we'll ever be anyway, (Y/N). What do you say we go back to my place and watch a movie or something? I could really use a break from thinking. The test will just have to be what it is tomorrow."

Minho laughed, his face scrunching up in the cute way it always does when he's truly happy. It made you stop and think for a second.

What if Minho were your boyfriend? I mean, the two of you already do basically everything together. Would it really be much different? And he was pretty cute... You would be lying if you said you hadn't always thought so.

Nah, there's no way Minho would ever want to date you anyway. His girlfriends had all been so beautiful, he would be way out of your league even if you were interested in him. Which you weren't. He was your best friend. Nothing else. That's all.

Right?

Minho's fingers snapping inches from your face drew you out of your thoughts instantly.

"Helloooo?" He whined at you as he took his hand away.

"Ah, sorry, I was thinking about... something. Yeah, let's go back to your place! Just don't pick something boring."

Minho's eyebrow twitched and he started to open his mouth to say something, but decided against it, seemingly satisfied.

~

Once you were at his apartment, you threw your stuff down and kicked off your shoes like you always did when you came over, and breathed a sigh of relief. Minho's place really was like a second home to you.

He chuckled at you, nudging your stuff out of the way and placing his own things next to them.

"You pick. I have to use the bathroom really quick."

Minho padded down the hallway to the bathroom, but before entering, he poked his head around the corner.

"And don't pick a girly movie!"

It was your turn to chuckle when he glared at you playfully, going back on his previous path slowly for emphasis.

Before you could make your way over to the tv, your phone alerted you to a text. You pulled it from your pocket and turned the screen on, not at all surprised at who sent it to you.

"I thought you were going to text me tonight? Can we please talk?"

A pang of guilt hit you in the chest for not texting him like you said you would. Truthfully, you had just forgotten because you were with Minho.

With one hand, you held your phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard trying to think of a reply. The other hand picked nervously at the hem of your shirt.

As soon as your thumb pressed the first key, a hand jerked the device from you out of nowhere.

"What the fuck, Minho? Give me my phone!"

He stood before you, having quietly come back from the bathroom, your phone gripped tightly in his hand.

"No," he said firmly, "I know who you're texting, and you don't need to text him back."

You ears burned red and your fingers curled into your hands, forming tight fists by your sides.

"I don't know what is up with you today, but I need my phone back. Give it to me."

You held your hand out expectantly, hoping he didn't notice it shaking in the dim light of his living room.

"I said no. I'm not letting you do this to yourself again. How many times has it been, anyway?"

Honestly, you had no idea. You had lost track a long time ago. But it didn't matter.

"You're not letting me? You don't control me, Minho. I can do what I want and talk to who I want. Give me my phone, right now."

You hadn't meant to raise your voice at him, but you felt like you were going to lose it. Minho had no right. He didn't know anything about this. This was your choice, your relationship.

"Do you even realize what you're doing to yourself?" Minho yelled at you, raising his voice as well.

Tears pricked the edges of your eyes and it took everything in you not to wrestle the phone from him right then and there.

"You don't understand, Minho. I have to go back to him."

Minho groaned, gripping the phone even tighter in his hand as he brought both of them to his head, rubbing the edges of them against his temples.

"I understand a lot more than you think. You go back to him because he's familiar, (Y/N). That's all it is. You don't love him. I don't think you even like him. You stopped doing that a long time ago!"

The tears finally fell, and it didn't go unnoticed by Minho even in the middle of a full-on yelling match between you.

One of your hands still balled up in a fist flew to your face, rubbing the tears away violently. But another bout of anger bubbled up inside of you and spilled over before you could stop it, in the form of a scream directly at poor Minho.

"Why do you even care, Minho?! Why now?"

"Because I'm in love with you, (Y/N)!"

The room fell silent in a matter of seconds. So silent, in fact, that you were sure the echoes of Minho's loud, angry confession weren't just a figment of your imagination.

The desperate anger on Minho's face dissipated the second your bottom lip started to tremble, and he instantly felt horrible for yelling at you. God knows you had had enough of that before.

He assumed you would push past him, out of his apartment door, never to speak to him again. Instead, you took one hesitant step towards him, reaching your arms out to him as if you were a child looking for comfort. He instantly got the message, making his way over to you just in time for you to collapse into him, the two of you slowly sinking to the floor tangled in each other's arms.

"I'm sorry," Minho whispered hoarsely, rubbing your back as you sobbed into his chest. "I didn't mean to yell so much. But I couldn't hold it in anymore. You don't have to say anything. Let all of your tears out, okay? Don't feel guilty."

Your phone clattered to the floor as it fell from in between you, and Minho decided to hold onto you with both hands now since he was given the opportunity.

Your fingers tightened around the front of his now tear-stained shirt. He was right. He always had been, and you felt dumb for just now letting yourself believe it fully. It took all of this happening for you to realize that the familiar one, the one you needed, had been right by your side the whole time, unwavering. It had never been your ex, it had been Minho.

"Say it again," you hiccuped through your tears timidly, cracking through the quiet veil that had fallen over the two of you once more.

"Say what again?" Minho asked, looking down at you in confusion.

"That you love me."

Minho tensed up under your grasp. He hadn't expected you to say anything for a while, and especially not something like that. But it was now or never.

"Only if you look at me, so I can say it to you properly- like I've always wanted to. That first time doesn't count."

His fingers found your chin, and he held onto it gently to steer your gaze up to meet his.

You blinked a few times so you could see him all the way, and he had the tiniest, most shy grin on his face that you had ever seen. The way it was slightly crooked only made your heart flutter more.

"I love you, (Y/N). I always have. It tore me up inside every time you went back to that asshole, knowing that if you kept doing that to yourself, you would never know what actual love felt like. You deserve so much better than him, and I want to be the one to show you what it feels like to be loved. I'll tell you every single day how much I love you, and how much you make my heart flutter every time you laugh or smile. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, inside and out. And if you give me the chance, I will make sure you never feel the way he made you feel again. You'll never even have to think about him again."

He gently swiped your stray tears away with the pad of his thumb, gazing into your eyes with nothing but concern and love for you. It felt good to finally tell you how he felt.

He made eye contact with you for a split second, and searched your face for any type of answer. But it occurred to him that he might be pushing you into it.

"I understand if you don't want to. Take your time okay? I know it's a lot."

Minho was going to say more, but he didn't get the chance to before you crashed your lips onto his.

He froze for only an instant before melting into your kiss, holding onto your face with both hands as if you might break in your fragile state. However, your grip on his shirt only tightened as he kissed you back, and he couldn't help but smile against your lips, the taste of your tears lingering near the corners of your mouth.

The kiss didn't last long, but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever experienced. When you pulled away, Minho once again looked at you for a response with a raised eyebrow and a breathless smile.

"I love you too, Minho. Now kiss me again for real."

Minho smiled so wide, he thought it might split his face in two.

"I promise, I'll kiss you every single day from now on."

As Minho dove back in to meet you again, you decided that his promise was the one you needed to hear. It was the most beautiful, because it was genuine. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.

He was what you needed, and this was where you needed to be.

[ta3mint]

I know I ask for a lot of Minho but I need this to feed into my delusions 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️a minho fluff but can you make sure they dance in the rain on a rooftop

Experiment 

Contains: fluff so fluffy, you might need to see the dentist after reading, Minho being a cute little shit, playful banter between friends, Minho x gn reader, best friends to lovers 

Warnings: name calling (like stupid, etc.,), language from Y/N, no proofreading 

Word Count: 2,390

You sighed, staring at your phone and refreshing it over and over to make yourself feel better.

Recently, you had joined a dating app because you weren’t having any luck in real life. And you hated to admit it, but you were becoming desperate. All your friends seemed to have partners they were happy with, and it made you feel lonely in every sense of the word. It was starting to become an intense loneliness, one that you felt in every fiber of your being. You so desperately wanted to love someone and be loved back.

Figuring you weren’t going to get any messages any time soon, you turned your phone off with a click, and tossed it onto the bed beside you before throwing yourself backwards, head hitting the pillow instantly.

Of course your phone alerted you to a text as soon as you did so, which elicited a groan from you. Who could have such horrible timing?

You grabbed your phone and glanced at the message preview to see who it was from.

It turns out it was from your best friend Minho, so the interruption could slide this time.

“Hey, are you doing anything today? I’m boreddddd”

You chuckled to yourself as you read the message. It was complimented with a cartoon sticker of a cat crying. He really must be wanting to hang out.

“No, I’m not doing anything today. Wanna hang?”

“Duh, that’s why I messaged you, stupid. I’ll be over in 10. Pick out a movie or something, idc. Just bored n wanna see you.”

Once again, you laughed, not caring that he called you stupid. It was a pretty normal thing in your friendship, and it came from both sides.

You did as he asked and picked out a movie, deciding to make some popcorn to go with it. By the time you were finished, you heard a knock at the door. An incessant knock. One that did not end until you threw the door open with an exasperated breath. But you knew exactly who it was before you even turned the corner to get to the door. Only one person was that annoying in such an endearing way.

“Minho! I didn’t even know you were here. Maybe you should’ve knocked even more.”

He stepped into your apartment like he lived there, as was customary, and cracked a smile. Then he raised his hand and knocked against your forehead gently a few times.

“Anyone home?”

You rolled your eyes at him, and grabbed his wrist to pull his hand away from your head.

“Haha, very funny. Come on before the popcorn gets stale.”

“Shut up. You’re stale.”

“Minho, what the fuck does that even mean?”

~

You were now sitting on the couch with Minho, the giant bowl of popcorn between you. It was almost empty now even though you were only about 30 minutes into the movie. But that was how it normally went for lots of people.

Right when the movie was getting good, a sudden boom of thunder sounded, followed by what seemed like the entire ocean falling out of the sky. You yelped at the unexpected noise, jumping up and somehow bringing the bowl with you, sending the remaining pieces of popcorn inside it everywhere. 

“(Y/N)! It was just thunder. Are you okay?”

Your heart was hammering in your chest. It wasn’t the thunder that scared you necessarily, just the noise out of nowhere. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. It just startled me.”

You turned to look at Minho, but you didn’t realize how close you had become after jumping up. His face was only inches from yours, and your already increased heartbeat was exacerbated by that fact. It didn’t help that he was looking directly at you, not shying away from the eye contact, with a smirk on his face. 

“Like what you see?”

You scoffed, shoving at his arm to put some distance between the two of you. 

“In your dreams, shithead.” 

Minho gasped, raising a hand to his mouth in fake shock.

“You’re such a meanie, (Y/N). I’m hurt.”

Without saying anything else, you shook your head to try and move on and also clear the weird thoughts that were suddenly in your head. 

What had gotten into him? Better yet, what had gotten into you? You had never once thought about your best friend in that way, and yet... here you were. And there he was, seemingly flirting with you all of a sudden. 

Your poor heart still hadn’t slowed down, but it wasn’t because of the storm anymore. It was because of the man next to you. He had his attention turned back to the movie now, seemingly unbothered by what had just happened. It had felt like such a huge deal to you...

What you didn’t know was that Minho’s heart was racing as well. He was having quite similar thoughts to yours, and he wasn’t sure where they came from. But he knew he liked them. They felt right and he wanted to feel more. He wanted to feel you and be closer to you, specifically. 

Minho had a sudden idea. An experiment, of sorts. 

He reached out to grab the remote and pause the movie before he lost his confidence, which earned a confused look from you. 

“What’s up? Need to use the bathroom or something?” 

Without answering, he stood and made his way over to the window, brushing the curtains aside to look out at the sky. 

He came back over to you, a weird look on his face that you didn’t recognize. 

“Why are you looking at me like that Minho?” You asked him, more quietly than you had meant to. 

“Do you trust me?”

Minho sounded serious. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you nodded nonetheless. He smiled and reached out a hand to you.

“Come with me. I want to try something.”

Tentatively, you grabbed his hand and stood up. It wasn’t the first time you had held hands with him- far from it, in fact. But this time felt different. It felt electric. 

~

Minho led you by the hand to the back stairwell of your apartment building, gripping it tightly the entire way. It was like he was afraid of you turning around and leaving him, the way he held on so intensely. You didn’t mind it, though. 

Before opening the door to step out onto the roof, he turned around and faced you head on. He looked scared, and it made you wonder why. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked you for the second time. 

“I do,” you answered without a second thought. You were confused, but you couldn’t help but be excited as well. 

He smiled, letting out a breath in what seemed like relief. Then, he pushed the heavy door open, leading you out. 

The rain had calmed down a lot, now only a slight drizzle dusting the air. It was eerily quiet, but it was peaceful. 

“Why are we up here, Minho?”

He didn’t look at you, only leading you out farther until you were smack in the middle of the roof. It was starting to get dark, the lights of the city decorating the background. You truly had no idea what was going on. 

“They did it like this in a movie I saw one time,” Minho muttered, more to himself than to you. 

“Who did what, Minho?”

He was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of your voice, and turned to look at you properly for the first time since he brought you up here. And you looked at him, your heart instantly aching at the sight. 

His hair was starting to stick to his forehead and neck because of the moisture in the air and his mouth was slightly ajar, stark white teeth hidden behind soft, pink lips. In his eyes was a look you could only describe as awe. There was a certain sparkle there that made your stomach flip over, and you swallowed thickly trying to calm down. Your eyes were then drawn to the silver earrings in his ears, and the way they were glistening in the dimming sunlight. A rain drop fell down the outer shell of his left ear all the way down to his neck to his t-shirt, which was also starting to stick to his perfectly toned body. 

Had he always looked this beautiful?

“These best friends, they- they danced together and discovered their true feelings. Even though they had been there all along.”

Their true feelings? 

“Although, it wasn’t in the rain. Or on a roof,” he laughed out breathlessly. “I just thought it would be fun.”

Your heart felt like it might jump out of your chest at his words. But truth be told, you wanted to try it too. 

“Dance with me then.”

He smiled his usual crooked smile when you spoke, and this time it made your limbs tingle just looking at it, even though you had seen it countless times before. Maybe it was because of earlier, or maybe the rain, or because of the way he was looking at you. 

Minho slowly reached out and placed a hand on your waist, bringing you closer to him before doing the same with his other hand. 

“Is it okay if I touch you here?” 

Your face was on fire, but you managed to give a slight nod, the cool air now not being able to keep up with the heat you were feeling. 

“Good,” Minho whispered, a light pink blush dusting him as well. 

Shakily, you placed your hands around his neck, your forearms resting on his shoulders. 

“Does this feel alright?” You asked him in an almost silent whisper. 

He nodded, a strand of wet hair falling into his eyes because of the motion. Without saying anything else, he started swaying with you to a beat in his head only he could hear. You followed as best you could, but you were too distracted with the way his hands felt against your upper hips. They were barely putting any pressure on you and yet, it was a crushing weight at the same time. 

“(Y/N)?” Minho asked out of nowhere after a few minutes. 

“Hmm?”

“Is it just me or...does this feel like...just right? Like it was...”

“Meant to be?” You finished for him. 

It was true. Besides the nerves you felt regarding your newfound thoughts you had about your best friend, this felt eerily natural. Like you had done it a million times. You suddenly wanted to do it a million more.

“We are...really dumb.”

Minho laughed once more, this time louder and more normal sounding.

“Maybe so. It makes sense, honestly.”

Another few minutes went by of the two of you swaying silently together in the gentle rain before Minho spoke again.

“I want to try something else that they didn’t do in the movie.”

You cocked your head to the side, wondering what it was. Thankfully your nerves had calmed down, and you were leaning into him now, almost chest to chest. It felt so natural now, you hadn’t even noticed.

“Tell me,” you said as you looked up at him, rain leaving wet trails down your cheeks. 

Minho removed one hand from your waist and placed it gently against your cheek, gripping you a bit tighter now with the other hand. 

“I would rather show you, if that’s alright.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your hands tightened on the back of his neck, rubbing against the ends of his wet hair. Was your best friend in the whole world really about to kiss you?

His thumb was rubbing back and forth gently against your cheek, and you realized he was waiting for permission. 

“I would be sad if you didn’t at this point, Minho.”

He laughed out a quiet breath and before he lost his burst of confidence, he leaned in to press his lips against yours. 

You had never thought about what kissing your best friend would be like before tonight, but part of you was glad you hadn’t. Because there was no way it would’ve lived up to the real thing. 

Minho held you and kissed you in a similar fashion- like he was afraid you were going to disappear or like he was going to break you, either one of the two. 

For a couple of seconds, the two of you stood stock still, simply having your lips pressed against each other’s without moving. Then you got a bit more brave. 

Your fingers played with the hair at the base of his neck, sending shivers down Minho’s spine. This encouraged him to tilt his head a bit, finally moving his lips and pressing them harder against yours. You drew in a breath through your nose at the sudden increase in intensity and pushed yourself against his body, liking the feeling of being so close to him. 

Minho’s head was spinning in the best way as he pulled his face away from yours, but only a few inches. 

“How was that?” He whispered, already wanting to dive back in. 

“It feels like we’re more than friends now, Minho.”

The two of you made eye contact for a split second before bursting into nervous laughter, Minho pulling you into his chest and resting your head underneath his chin, while he wrapped his arm around you protectively. 

“I was hoping you would say that. Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

You thought to yourself for a moment before responding.

“Maybe it’s because we already did everything that couples do, ya know? We hold hands all the time, we cuddle all the time. It was right there in front of our eyes the whole time, but we just didn’t realize it. We were never just friends.”

Minho glanced down at you, rubbing your back gently and relishing in your warmth, the rain suddenly really cold again. 

“Thank God for thunderstorms, I guess.”

You giggled and stood up on your toes to peck his cheek, making a mental note to delete that dating app later. You already had what you wanted, even if it had taken you forever to realize it. 

~

“So you did like what you saw after all!”

“Minho, I swear if you don’t shut the hell up-”

~

[ta3mint]

220611 Venue101 - Felix ✨

[ta3mint]

♡♡

[ta3mint]

NO ONE TOUCH ME JDHSJSJ he’s so precious

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[ta3mint]

I’M CRYING

stray kids x incorrect quotes

[ta3mint]

m.list❣

𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜: i write reader as well as slash fic. most slash fic will be over at my ao3!

commonly revisited themes: sexual content, angst, people and their feelings, romance, fantasy, emphasis on worldbuilding & drama.

please take a moment to leave feedback for writers when you enjoy their work!

Keep reading

[ta3mint]

Now this- this was beautiful

All Yours

Genre: smut, fluff

Warnings: unprotected sex

Request: no

Member: Chan

His hands slide over Y/N's clothed shoulders as he pulls her towards him, the touch of her husband making her shiver into him. Their noses bump into each other's and they both giggle as they press their lips together.

The caress of Chan's mouth is warm and sweet against her own, and combined with the fluttering whispers emitting from him, it's enough to turn Y/N into a melted puddle right then and there. She whispers back to him, her words making the man chuckle deeply, the sound sending a bolt of fire straight into the pit of her stomach.

"I could kiss you for the rest of my life," Chan murmurs against her mouth; she's already breathless, adrenaline flooding through her and heat encompassing her frame. Her temperature increases with every one of Chan's tender touches, his heat so intense that she feels like she's being burned through her clothes.

And she relishes every bit of it.

"I second that," Y/N breathes. Her eyes flutter shut as Chan's face ducks lower and he starts ghosting his plump lips over the sensitive skin of the base of her throat. She breathes heavily and tugs at the man's curly hair as she tips her head backwards, the pink and blue lights of the bedroom caressing her throat like a painting.

Chan's hands smooth over her arms and over her back; they travel across her chest before he pulls apart the buttons of her shirt in a smooth motion. He slides the shirt off of her body and exposes her chest to him, her breasts rising and falling hard against the edge of her crimson bra.

"Fuck," Chan whispers as he pulls his wife closer to him; his tongue roams around Y/N's mouth as Y/N starts to pull his shirt off, the cotton tight around the bulging muscles of his arms that hold her to him.

Pushing the shirt away, Y/N slides her hands in relish over the man's hot skin, moaning into Chan's mouth at the feel of his muscles under her fingers. She presses into him further, her breasts flat against his chest and making him groan against her.

His eyelashes fluttering against her cheek, Chan slides his finger under the back of Y/N's bra and unhooks the material before sliding it down her shoulders. He tosses it away before leaning back against the headboard of the bed, looking up in awe at the woman sitting on his thighs

"You're so beautiful," Chan whispers as he caresses his hands over her curves. "And you're all mine."

"All yours," Y/N smiles back as she leans down, her hair falling like a curtain around the two of them. She smooths her lips over his, her smile melting into the kiss as Chan slides his hands down her back and onto her ass, his hands squeezing hard.

Y/N slides her body against him, feeling his hardness against her thigh; she can't help but smile as she grinds down onto him, making the man suddenly gasp. He tightens his grip on her as she does it again, the quietest of whimpers leaving his mouth.

"Cutie," Y/N giggles as she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She caresses Chan's jaw as his face starts glowing red, his bottom lip catching between his teeth as shyness overtakes him. "My cutie."

"Not sure about the cute part, but I'm definitely yours," Chan laughs quietly against her mouth, rubbing his nose against hers. "I'm always yours."

Smiling as she kisses his plump lips, Y/N smooths her hands down her husband's body; she lightly grazes her fingernails down the deep crevices between his defined muscles, her fingers toying with his nippoes which grow more sensitive with every passing moment.

The man whimpers underneath her, Chan's head falling back into one of the pillows. He slides his hands over her back as she continues to toy with his chest, her fingers softly squeezing his hard buds.

"Baby … " Chan breathes heavily. His chest rises and falls rapidly under Y/N's chest hands, his fair skin turning rosy pink in the neon lights.

Y/N can't help but marvel at the sight of him as she sits up on him; his lips are plumper than normal, swollen from the kissing and lightly bruised. He's blushing furiously, his messy curls still slightly damp from his earlier shower, and his muscular body gleams with a thin layer of sweat that makes him look as though he's carved from white gold. Her bite marks bloom with violet near his collarbone, and Y/N bites her lip at how effortlessly sexy he looks.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Chan asks. He slides an arm behind his head as he looks up at her, the bulge of his bicep growing with the movement.

"Because you're gorgeous," Y/N replies. She kisses down his stomach, enjoying the way he buckles under her touch, enjoying the heavy gaze on her that follows her every move.

"Mmm says you," Chan whispers, and he reaches out to pull her on top of him again; their lips collide, their tongues fighting each other. Their hands explore each other's bodies, Chan's hands travelling lower and lower before he slides off the last of Y/N's clothing, followed by his own.

Guiding her with his hands, Chan slowly slides her onto him; the girl gasps and arches her back, her hair falling around them both as they both feel her stretching considerably to fit his girth. With their eyes glued to each other's, their breath hitches as Y/N manages to slide herself all the way down; she sits firmly on Chan's thighs, rolling her hips with the fullness inside of her.

"Fuck, baby girl," Chan breathes, his hands tightening around her waist. "You feel so good around me."

"You feel even better," Y/N gasps and she leans down onto him. She smiles when Chan reaches out to push her hair out of her face, his hands cupping her face lovingly as she starts to move on top of him.

After a few minutes of moving slowly, Y/N sits up and starts rocking her hips; she circles herself on Chan, his hands trailing over her waist, her breasts as she rides him leisurely. She lets her own hands caress her body and she cups her breasts with a devilish look in her eyes.

Chan gazes back up at her with the same look in his eyes, his hands squeezing her ass as she bounces on top of him. Watching her chasing her own pleasure, watching the way her hands slide over herself, teasing him … it turns him on more than she'll ever know, and he starts groaning as she increases her pace slightly.

Y/N moans loudly. She gasps when Chan pulls her down onto him again so that their bodies are tangled with each other, their skin slick with sweat. The room is fragrant with the musky scent of sex, and alive with the wet sound of Y/N slamming herself down onto Chan's cock. Their shadows dance on the wall under the neon lights, and something about the way the purple hue glowing on their skin makes them melt into each other even more.

"I love you, baby girl," Chan breathes against Y/N's mouth. Their foreheads lean against each other as they stare into each other's eyes, an intense combination of Y/N rolling her hips and Chan thrusting into her making them both slowly unravel before each other. Chan’s hands slide all over his wife's, caressing her shoulders and the curve of her back before his fingers dig into the soft flesh of her thighs.

She moans under his touch, the delicious pain of his thick cock slamming in and out of her sending her into another dimension. She begins to see nothing but stars fizzing in her clouding vision, her core throbbing and pulsing with every loving stroke of Chan inside of her. His moans are loud in her ears, as is the echo of skin slapping against skin, and with the feel of electricity flooding through her veins, Y/N suddenly clenches around him.

She clenches so hard as her release explodes around her that Chan shatters after one more thrust; they both whimper and gasp into each other, their bodies humming with pleasure as they hold each other tightly.

Y/N buries her face into the crook of Chan's neck, his arms crushing her with his muscles as he holds her tightly; they're both throbbing against each other, Chan's cock pulsing inside of her as their release spills down Y/N's thighs and onto his, creating a warm, sticky mess amongst the sheets.

"I love you more," Y/N whispers into his neck. The intensity of her release has her rendered completely energy less, and she doesn't want to move another inch.

Nor does Chan. He stays buried deep inside of her as he caresses his hands up and down her back, adoringly stroking her hair and kissing her forehead.

They both can't help but grin like children as they swiftly fall asleep tucked in each other's arms.

---

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