#han jisung drabble

[httpdwaekki]

chronic | h.j.

summary: you can't sleep because of your achy joints but luckily hannie is there to make you feel better.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: mentions of chronic pain (based on my personal experience), nudity (nothing sexual), han being a sweetie, (i don't mention anything about hair but lets pretend it doesnt get wet thanks <3) gn!reader (i tried to not describe any anatomy but lmk if i missed it.) not proofread.

a/n: happy b-day hannie <33 self indulgent for for my favorite quokka, but i really liked writing for him so i'm gonna try n write more for him (and everyone else!). i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3.

my library | fundraiser

(pictures not mine! credit to owners!)

you are exhausted, you wanted nothing more than to just fall into a blissful slumber.

however your body had other ideas. your joints felt like they were on fire, more specifically your wrist and elbow. nothing helped except keeping your arm completely still, which would be fine if you could get comfortable but you just couldn’t.

jisung was laid next to you, wrapped around you like a koala, his face perfectly slotted into your neck. you wanted to enjoy this, you rarely got time with him so you cherish every moment you had with him.

but honestly all you wanted to do was cry, you felt guilty and at this point all of your joints felt like they were on fire. luckily almost as if he read your mind, he rolled over in his sleep onto the other side of your bed.

you let out a sigh of relief, trying to keep your tears at bay as you carefully move off of the bed. you make your way to your drawer pulling out underwear and a comfy shirt.

you tiptoe your way to the bathroom, quietly closing the door leaning against it. as soon as your back touches the towel hung behind the door, the floodgates open.

you place your clothes on the counter, placing your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. the shaky movements from your sobs agitating your joints further. couple minutes pass before you pull yourself together. 

you look into the mirror finding your distressed reflection, in the dimly lit bathroom from your night light. the soft light reflects the tear stains on your chubby cheeks. you let out a sigh, wiping your face before moving to turn the shower on. 

you make sure to set it to hot to soothe your joints. you sit down on the toilet, feeling too fatigued and achy to stand for much longer. you rub your arm gently, hoping it’ll ease the pain. once you see the steam start to rise from behind the curtain you carefully remove your shirt, dropping it to the floor.

you hold onto the wall as you get up, gently pushing your shorts and underwear down. they pool at your ankles before you step out of them, making your way to the shower.

you move the shower curtain back before stepping in, cautious of the wet floor. you move under the hot water, letting the water wash over you, soothing your joints. 

as you sit under the water you think about how you’re losing even more of the limited time with your boyfriend. the tears start once again, feeling and overwhelming urge to be held by him. 

unbeknownst to you, jisung had awoken from your lack of presence in your bed. “자기야?” he calls groggily, rubbing his eyes. his chubby cheeks on full display as he realizes your absence.

you soft sobs catch his ear, immediately becoming alert, throwing the blanket off of him in search for you. he hears the sound of water that leads him to the bathroom. he gently cracks the door, greeted by steam flowing out of the room.

you cries now clear as he steps in the bathroom, closing the door behind him without a sound. he quickly undresses before he pulls back the curtain stepping in behind you. you were unaware of the presence behind you, occupied with the sobs coming out of your mouth.

you jump as you feel a soft touch on your arm, whipping around to find a bare jisung. “hey it’s just me 자기.” your wide eyes find his, tears falling faster now. 

he immediately pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around you. “sh sh, you’re okay.” you wrap your stiff arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. your body shakes against his as sobs rack your body.

you both stay there for a moment before you feel pain shoot through your arm. “ah” you wince, pulling away, gripping your arm. you move it under the soothing water, fat tears roll down your cheeks.

he carefully rubs your arm, trying to soothe the pain in your joints. you lay your head on his shoulder as he continues his movements under the warm water. he places kisses to your head, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

the pain slowly subsided, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you.” you sniffle, carefully wiping your tears. he shakes his head, cupping your chubby cheeks, rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“don’t ever apologize for that, i just wish you would’ve done it sooner.” it was your turn to shake your head, placing a hand on his wrist. “no you need your rest, i’m fine.” his eyes become glossy at your words.

“you were not fine,” he whispers in disbelief, “you were sobbing in the shower at 3am, nothing about that is fine 자기.” you look down, feeling a bit embarrassed. he lifts your face, his boba eyes meeting yours.

“please lean on me baby, that’s what i’m here for.” you nod before he pulls you into him before he steps you back under the warm water. he wraps his arms around you, gently pulling your head to his shoulder once more. 

you both stay under the water for a while before the water starts turning cool. he reaches behind you, turning the water off, placing a kiss to the side of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m gonna grab your towel okay?” he whispers into your hair.

you nod against him, before he places one last kiss to your head, pulling away carefully stepping out of the shower. he quickly wraps his towel around his waist before grabbing yours, he walks back over, pulling the shower curtain back.

he holds his hand out to help you step out onto the shower mat. once your feet are planted on the ground he begins to dry you off, being mindful of your joints as he works. once you’re dry, he leads you over to the sink before hanging up your now wet towel.

he grabs your underwear, bending down to help you step into them. you grab his shoulders as you carefully step into the fabric. he pulls them up your legs, placing a soft kiss to each thigh once it was secure around your waist.

he stands up, grabbing the shirt and slipping it over your head, booping your nose as the fabric dropped around your shoulders. you give him a small smile, giggling as you scrunch your nose. “there’s my baby.” he smiles, placing a kiss to your cheek before fixing your shirt.

he helps you carefully slip your arms into the sleeves before collecting your discarded clothes, leading you back to your bedroom. he tosses your dirty laundry in the basket as he passes. he leads you to the bed, where he pulls the blanket back for you, letting you slowly sit on the bed.

once you get comfortable he pulls the blanket over you, “do you need any medicine?” you thought about it for a second before he spoke. “i’ll grab it just in case, put it next to you with some water.” your cheeks warm at his actions, “thank you,” you mumble, nodding your head slightly.

he quickly goes to your drawers, pulling out underwear and sweatpants, slipping them on before tossing the towel while walking out of the door. a few moments later he comes back in with your medicine, water and electrolyte drink.

he places the water and medicine on the bedside table, twisting off the top, handing it to you. you sit up, giving him a confused look before grabbing the drink. “because you were crying so you’re dehydrated and you’re gonna wake up with a headache and an even worse flare up.” 

you pause for a moment processing what he just said before pulling him down to you. you kissing him for a moment before you pull away, “what was that for?” he asks, out of breath. “i love you so much, i don’t deserve you.” you say catching yours.

“don’t ever say that again, you deserve the world.” he places another kiss to your lips before rounding the bed to his side. you smile before drinking the bottle in your hand, slowly drinking the liquid.

you take a break, catching your breath as he places his hand on your bare thigh, rubbing soothing circles to your skin. “slow down 자기야, don’t chug it, you’ll get sick.” he says softly, watching you. you nod before slowly drinking the rest of the drink before capping the bottle.

he sits up as you place the empty bottle, lifting the blanket, letting you lay down, before placing the blanket back over you.

he lays down next to you, rubbing soft circles on your arm, placing a soft kiss to your skin, “goodnight my baby, i love you.” you smile, reaching down to grab his hand, placing a kiss to his skin before lacing your fingers together. 

“goodnight my sweet boy, thank you for everything, i love you.” he gently squeezes your hand before speaking, “you don’t have to thank me.” he mumbles into your arm, both of your drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

do not edit, repost or translate.

[soobnny]

howl and sophie — han jisung x reader ; he realizes he’s in love with you (0.8k words)

advance happy bday hanji!

“Do you guys ever think about how Howl spent his whole life—“

“Is Chan coming back already?” Jeongin questions, unknowingly cutting Jisung off as he impatiently checks the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.

He’d lost a bet earlier and had promised to get the kids ice cream, and if you were to ask the youngest how long the boy’s been gone, it’s been around 23 minutes and 24 seconds, but he’d never admit to his impatience.

“Howl spent his life looking—“

“Sorry, I’m late.” Chan comes rushing through the door, crouched down to his knees the moment he’s inside with his dominant hand gripping a plastic bag from the convenience store.

He’s still panting when the boys swarm him, the youngest managing to catch the bag and veering off to the direction of the kitchen.

“Hyung!” Jisung calls out the eldest’s attention, and you notice your best friend’s features drop when Chan moves to break the fight in the kitchen as to who has which flavor.

“Hyung, don’t ignore me.”

He’s whining now, arms crossed and body unmoving from the space he’s occupying on the couch. Jisung has his tells when he’s getting sulky, his lips form a pout and his eyebrows furrow just a little—all tells so blatantly obvious on his face at the very moment.

Jisung should know better than to expect his friends to listen to him when there’s free ice cream and a limited stock of flavors up for grabs in the kitchen. They might be good friends most of the time, but they are not below putting their entire attention to making sure they do not have the worst flavor.

He’s still sulking, and you can hear his breathing getting a little louder, but their attention is still glued on the kitchen table.

You place a hand on his arm gently, shifting closer to the pouting boy. You know exactly what he wants to say, but you choose to ask him anyway.

“What is it?”

It’s comedic the way the pout instantly washes away from his features, instead replaced with a giddy smile as he angles his body to look at you properly.

Jisung’s always been cute in the way he could never hide how wide his smile gets.

Howl spent his entire life looking for his Sophie.

“Howl spent his entire life looking for his Sophie. Don’t you think that’s the most romantic thing ever? Especially when he tells her she might as well take a piece of his heart.”

You’ve heard him talk about Howl’s Moving Castle a thousand times now, but you let him ramble anyway. You’d lose nothing but your time, but it’s easily compensated with the way he’s smiling at you.

“Are you talking about that movie again?”

It’s Changbin who butts in the conversation when Jisung takes a deep breath in between his spoken 1000-word essay about Howl and Sophie. The older boy is seated on the bean bag in front of the pair of you, ice cream in hand as he monstrously takes a bite off.

“How he spent his entire life searching for Sophie?”

“(Name), what ice cream flavor do you want?” There’s a call from the kitchen, and Jisung’s starting to pout again.

“Don’t worry, they just don’t understand the movie like you do.” You whisper in his ear, enough to solicit a laugh from the boy.

Then, when you expect him to continue, he grows quiet.

In all honesty, even Han Jisung doesn’t understand why. He thinks about this all the time, and he’s never had a problem talking to you, but now his head is blanking.

It isn’t until you take his hands in yours and encourage him to keep talking that he realizes oh—is this how Howl feels about Sophie?

This is a dilemma.

Jisung’s always known he’s had a crush on you, but the way you’d listened to him with a sweet and gentle smile on your face, with your attention unwavering, he’s suddenly painfully self-conscious about how much more he feels about you and how his hands are probably sweating from the sudden realization.

“Jisung?”

“Hey, I know another topic he never shuts up about.” Seungmin hums, having gone back from the kitchen. “His big fat crush on—“

“Chan was asking you what flavor you wanted, right?” Jisung suddenly interrupts, eyes flickering between you and Seungmin, the kitchen, then back on you.

“Come on, (name). Let’s get some ice cream.” Then, he abruptly gets up from his seat and pulls you to the direction of where there’s only two pieces of ice cream in the plastic bag.

“What was Seungmin say—“

“Here. Take this.” He all but shoves the ice cream in your hands, smiling a little too sheepishly before hurrying to shut Seungmin up.

[hyunsvngs]

no thoughts, just sex with jisung in the recording booth

pushing him against the wall and sucking him dry before he tries to fuck you against the wall but fails miserably and you end up just fucking on the floor

i personally have thoughts on this

"baby, baby, i gotta- i gotta record this, my baby," jisung's babbling, complaining at the way you've got him pushed against the wall of the studio, but he's still pushing his trousers down. his boxers go with them, sliding down lithe thighs and revealing his thick, hard cock. "i gotta record this, you can't."

he's still stroking his cock in front of your face though, exposing the head beneath his foreskin, and you giggle. he whimpers when you engulf the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around like it's a damn lollipop. his hands fly back to the wall, blunt fingernails digging into the paint. satisfied, you reach your hand up to cup his balls, just softly rubbing your thumb over them and he positively wails. your baby's sensitive.

"baby, baby, i really gotta-" jisung cuts himself off with his own moan, loud and keening through the studio. you're glad it's soundproofed. he lifts his hoodie up with his hands, clutching the fabric in his palms so he can see the way you're bobbing your head on his cock ruthlessly. your eyes lock with his, and he realises that he's gonna cum embarrassingly quickly. "'m gonna blow! baby, i'm gonna fuckin' blow, please, please, let me-"

you pull off, using your fist to stroke his now-slick cock. the noises reverberate around the room and he's still whining, teeth gritted, toes curling in his socks and thighs tensing and untensing in front of you. "let you do what, sungie? tell me. tell mommy, yeah?"

you're pretty sure jisung screams in response to you using that title. it's incoherent, high pitched and extremely loud, the noise he makes, but you smile anyway as if you understood. his legs are shaking and so is his bottom lip, a pout present on his face and accompanied by teary, round eyes beneath his floppy hair.

"i gotta fuck you, please! please, please, don't wanna cum in your mouth, not here, wanna- wanna fill you up and watch it drip out, oh my god, please. mommy!"

"c'mere then, baby," you huff as if it's an inconvenience. in reality, you've gotten exactly what you want, and you lay on the floor to wiggle your joggers down your legs. the movement shows him how you arrived sans underwear for him, and he keens. he immediately darts to the floor, head moving to the crook of your neck.

"gotta- gotta, gotta, i gotta, i g'ta, mommy, i'm pushing in, 'kay?" he's drooling already, cockhead barely breaching your entrance, but he always drools when he's desperate like this. you let him push his cock past your folds, thick and drippy beneath his foreskin, and he's immediately rutting into you at an unbelievable pace. "hnnnfgg, oh my god, oh my god."

"that's it, b-baby, my boy, good boy," you coo, stuttering through your own pleasure, and he gasps wetly into your skin. he's so fucking cute. "fuck mommy's pussy just like that, that's it."

[justwonder113]

Hold my hand- Han Jisung

warnings: angst with a good ending. reader is gender neutral. reader has an avoidant attachment style and is really stressed and miserable about it. mention of previous failed relationships. Brief description of depressive episode. Mentions of not eatin, talking or getting out of bed. A/N- This was inspired by this lovely ask. Sorry it took me literal ages to write this. I really hope you'll like this. Reblogs and comments as always are highly aprpeciated^^ word count: 2.1 k My masterlist if you like my work you can buy me coffee❤️

You’ve done it, you finally managed and did it. You fucked everything up. 

Again.

But let’s be real, it was a matter of time, right? Before you would slip up and mess everything up. It was just a matter of time before Han would realize that he could do way better than you. It was a matter of time before he would realize you were not worth all the hassle and headache and that he would be better alone than with a person such as yourself. 

You knew that. 

You knew from the start that things wouldn’t last between you two. You knew right from the damn start that it wasn’t even worth to have any types of expectations because things would fall apart eventually. You knew from the start that you weren’t relationship type of person.

So why? 

Why did it hurt so much to know that you lost him? To know that he hated you. To know that you brought him so much pain. 

Why were you so stupid? Why did you even decide it was worth to try? Why were you lying to yourself? People don’t change. Why would you? How long did you actually think you would be able to suppress who you really were? - A selfish person who would never be able to fully love someone and give them the love they deserved. You were destined to be alone. Who were you fooling? Or were you that desperate to prove to yourself that you could be loved? 

Selfish people like you didn’t deserve people like him. 

God you were so pathetic sitting here all alone, all Theatrically dramatic, wanting attention like a sad kid. Still clinging to the hope that Han would still reach out for you. 

All these years and you still couldn’t face the truth. 

All these years of the same shit over and over again. - You would start dating someone thinking that maybe if they were the one you wouldn’t push them away the second things got real. But every god damn time it ended the same way. You would push them away one way or the other, unable to help yourself, and they would leave without looking back. No one fought for you. Not even once. 

Truth be told at some point you did give up. 

But there was Han. He appeared in your life and brought joy and laughter with himself. You did try to stay away. You didn’t want to taint him with your ways. You didn’t want for him to lose his spark. You really did try to shield him for you, to warn him that you were broken and there was no fixing you. But he persisted. He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge after all. And one of the following days you found yourself saying yes when he asked you to go out with him yet another time. 

Dating him was the greatest experience of your life. Every day with him was like an exciting adventure. He was always so full of surpises. You never knew what to expect with him. As the days passed you actually found yourself yearning for him, waiting for every your meetind, waiting for every little plan you made, even simple ones like ice cream dates of snack runs in the sotre at 3 am when both of you couldn’t sleep. He became an inseparable part of your life in such a small period of time. 

But you were you. 

And you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t ruin everything good that was happening in your life. 

You broke up with him. 

Why? 

Maybe because you actually realized that things between you were becoming more than real. Maybe because you realized that he was the first actual person you could imagine a future with. Maybe because you realized that you actually loved him. And maybe because he fucking said that he loved you.  

Love – something that you yearned for all your life yet something that terrified you the most. 

Because loving someone meant giving them the weapon that would hurt you the most with. Loving someone meant being vulnerable and open only for it to be used against you. 

Maybe this was why you were always the first one to leave once things were getting to look serious. Maybe it was something like a defense mechanism. You would hurt them way before they would be able to hurt you. You would leave before they would be able to realize that they had the power to hurt you. 

So why did it hurt so damn much? You left before you fucked each other over right? Why did your soul feel like it was tearing in half? Why did you want for Han to reach over for you and still take you back, like a selfish asshole? You were the one to end this. How could you be so hypocritical? What the fuck was up with you? Who would be able to love somone as flawed, someone as broken as you?

Sighing you turned over in your bed which somewhat felt way more stiff and colder than it actually was. You didn’t even have faintest idea what time it was. Only it was dark. You had never felt so disconnected from the reality. Honestly it was so weird, deep inside you felt soul crushing sorrow yet on the outside you were so dull, emotionless and numb to the outside world.  

You have never felt so empty. 

You couldn’t even remember when was the last time you ate or drank something. You couldn’t even remember when was the last time you stood up from the bed. 

What was even the point? 

You looked at your phone lit up from yet another call from him. He gave you some space at first but he must have been fed up from waiting. He had been calling for a while now. 

It was for the better. He would realize that sooner or later. He would thank you for it later. 

The ringing didn’t stop and soon enough it was followed by banging on the door. 

You heard him call your name so raw, so desperately and you could physically feel something inside you die. 

“I know you can hear me. Please open the door. We need to talk.” He sounded so tired. “I promise I’m not here to make things harder but please hear me out and let me say what I have to say.” 

“come in.” you manage to croak out, your voice weak and strained after not even making a sound for few days. 

You were walking towards the door before you could even realize what was happening.

Here he stood with his oversized hoodie on, his hands shoved into his pockets...He looked tired and confused but what surprised you the most was that he doesn’t look angry. No not at all. 

Han quietly walked into your house. You now noticed the small bag he had with him. He placed it on your coffee table. “I’ve brought you some snacks. I know that they’re your favorite.” He sounded almost defeated. 

This was ridiculous did he expect you to munch on the snacks as he talked to you? You felt so bad you hadn’t been able to eat for days! You didn’t even know how you were standing on your two feet right now. 

Sighing and sat on the opposite side of him. The distance had never felt this big between you. You also notice that he notices it too. You notice how hurt he looks for a second. And you know you’re the cause of that! You put that distance there and it kills you.  

The anticipation is killing you. You can feel yourself shaking but you cannot tell if it’s your nerves or how cold the apartment is. You're only in your underwear and oversized t-shirt after all. You didn’t even have the energy to change. 

This was wrong. You shouldn’t have opened the damn door. What were you thinking? You would only hurt him more and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. Looking at him was slowly killing you. Your bright sunshine was looking so sad and sorrowfull all because of you! 

Han looked into your eyes for a second. “I meant it, you know. When I said I love you.” Your chest constricted so hard it was impossible to breathe. Han averted your gaze. “You didn’t say anything... You just… left.” 

And maybe this was the part where you should have broken down and apologised. The part where you would say how sorry you were and you actually loved him back, but you were absolutely terrified. The part where you would admit the truth. 

Only if that were the case. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m not the person you should love. You knew that!” Your voice sounded so cold so detached it actually terrified you. Why were you being so cold to him? After he went his way and came to you?! After he sought you out? Isn't this what you wanted? What was wrong with you? 

A silence. 

Finally gathering courage, you looked at him. He didn’t look taken aback or sad or angry. Actually, you had never seen him look so calm. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know it wasn’t a mistake.” 

Another clench. 

No, no, no, this was bad. This was really bad. You couldn’t let him get to you! This was wrong. You knew it was wrong! 

As if sensing your resolve start to break Han decided to push back more. He stood up from the couch and gently started to approach you. Your mind screamed for you to go, to run to not get him get close to you but your body had another idea. For once in your life, you stayed in once place. You felt torn. You didn’t know what to do anymore. 

Han kneeled in front of you. 

“You don’t have to promise me anything. Not forever, not even tomorrow. Just… don’t run away this time.” 

Your breath hitched. This was bad. You could already feel yourself start to break. 

“You don’t even have to say anything. Just hold my hand and I’ll know the answer.” Han held in his hand for you. “I know you’re scared, believe me I’m also terrified! You don’t have to promise me forever just don’t run away from me!” His voice cracks in the end. 

He always said he’d be there, even if you were scared but you didn’t believe him. No one lived up to promises like this. But now, he’s was still reaching out. Still asking you to take his hand. After you tried and tried to push him away... 

You didn’t realize when you started to cry. But once you did you couldn’t stop anymore. 

“I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you.”  -You sobbed out. “I left because I did. And that scared the hell out of me.” 

His eyes soften. And he holds in his hand for you but this time it feels like a reassurance, like hope. He doesn’t say a word. Just holds it out — steady, patient. 

Like he’s done all along. 

You still hesitate… then slowly you see yourself reaching for him. Your hand trembling but still reaching for him. 

You hold his hand. Of course you do. Even if your mind keeps screaming no, even if your mind keept screaming at you that this is a horrible idea, your body craves him. Your body knows that you need him like you needed the air to breathe. It knows that he is your missing piece. You only feel complete with him. Of course it knows. 

And you just sit there not saying anything. He has you in his hold as you hold each other’s hands. Your back against his chest, steady reassuring. You didn’t even fully reconcile yet, but it feels like words aren’t needed anyways. For now at least. 

And for the first time in forever you feel hope that maybe you have a better future ahead of you. 

“Can I stay?” You hear Han ask after a while. His voice quiet, pleading.  

“Just for a little while.”  

“Yeah.” he sighs agains your shoulder, you can feel him smiling. “Just… hold my hand.” 

And you do. 

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated^^

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[emmiesoverthemoon]

could do better

pairing: han jisung x reader tags: drabble. fluff. autistic reader. part of the emmieverse drabble special—see here

“okay—but like, technically, if you deep-fried it, it would count as a dessert,” your coworker says, waving a half-empty syrup bottle in the air like it holds the secrets of the universe.

you blink.

you squint.

your brain does that soft clicking sound it makes when it’s buffering.

jisung watches you from across the espresso machine, eyes shining like he’s waiting for the punchline to land.

it does not.

yet.

your coworker moves on to stacking cups. jisung sighs dramatically.

“hanquokka could do better,” he mutters, under his breath, pouting like a child who did not get chosen for foursquare.

you shoot him a look, confused. “...what?”

“nothing,” he says quickly. “just, you know. some mascots are funnier than others. some of them have elite timing. some of them don’t make people wait five to seven business minutes for the joke to land—”

you gasp, hand shooting up to smack his arm, just as your brain finally delivers the joke. "deep-fried—because—oh my god, it was about the banana bread—wait—"

you wheeze.

you are laughing now, too loud, too late, shoulders curling in like you are trying to contain it and failing miserably. jisung looks victorious. smug. a little too smug.

“it took you long enough!” he says. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

you try to swat him again but miss, mid-giggle. he dodges you with a grin.

“oi—” your manager’s voice cuts through the front counter like a knife. “some of us are trying to run a business. unless one of you wants to mop the floor again, i suggest you cut the flirting and get back to work.”

jisung shrinks like a scolded puppy. you both immediately start pretending to care deeply about wiping things.

“worth it,” he whispers a minute later, just loud enough for you to hear.

you snort, but say nothing.

hanquokka wins again.

tysm for your prompt!

this is a part of the emmieverse 500 follower special! if you’d like a custom drabble, read here!

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[hannamoon143]

Tired- beabadoobee

Han jisung with "Tired" from beabadoobee, for the fall series

Genre: Angst

Warnings: su?cide, depression, unhealthy eating habits, crying

Word count: 766 w

a/n: We r starting into the fall series with this angsty drabble, inspired by „Tired“ by beabadoobee. Hope yall like it. Soon other members will follow, with more angst and also  some good fluff ^^pls give me some songs tho, I need some more🙏🏻 (just write into my inbox) Have a cozy fall, now take your fluffy blanket, a hot cocoa, and read<33

It was freezing. The cold autumns breeze was seeping into your bones. The rooftop was empty. It felt like there was only you, your thoughts and the clear night sky in this world. Well that was until you heard the door creak open behind you. You didn’t have to turn around, there was only one person that would be searching you up here. You heared han’s quick footsteps approaching and then he grabs you by the shoulder, pulling you back a bit so you turn around to him. He looks at you, his breath coming out in little white clouds. „Why are you up here again y/n?“ His voice was quivering, both of you knowing the answer. You just looked at the citylights around you again.

„You could have called me y/n. I told you before that you can call, text or even facetime me when you can’t sleep.“ He spoke, his voice urgent. He made a little pause, probably expecting you to say something. „Is it the sound of your own thoughts keeping you up again?“

You stared at the stars and the moon, so beautiful, so perfect, but so far away you couldn’t reach them. You let out a little hoarse chuckle, at wich han looks at you a bit irritated. You know he hates when you are sarcastical. But this time, your words aren’t. No, you don’t have the energy for your snarky comments.

„Maybe it’s time to say goodbye Hannie.“ You still didn’t look at him, your voice was calm and your gaze in a small smile, looking somewhere far away from here.

Han let’s out a shaky breath and stares at you. „Y/n, stop saying shit like this and let’s go home okay? You can come to my apartment and you can sleep in the one sweater from me you love so much, and we can cuddle alright? I’ll let you sleep in my bed, and we can listen to my records that you always want to listen to.“ He desperately spoke, gripping your arm. He didn’t want to hear your words, no he just couldn’t believe you were serious.

You remained quiet, gaze just calmly elsewhere. It frustrated han. It frustrated him you were like this, that you wouldn’t let him help you. „Come on y/n! Don’t be like that. Don’t speak in this calm voice with this neutral face, when we both know you want to cry, to scream, to punch something. Don’t bottle it up y/n. Please, please talk to me!“ His voice grew loud and desperate. He was scared. Scared because this wasn’t you. He felt like you were fading slowly somewhere else, and it scared him so fucking much. He didn’t notice the tears running down his cheeks. He wished it was you who cried. But you were just looking all neutral, like your mind was in a deep, numb slumber.

He didn’t think and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his tears dropping onto your sweater. He wanted to actually drag you into his apartment and just make you understand what you were doing to yourself, and that he wanted to help you more than anything else, when he felt your slim figure in his arms. This wasn’t you. This was a girl, only skin and bones, with seemingly no emotions. He buried his face deeper in the crook of your neck, and whispered: „Were you even eating at all…“ More to himself than to you. You kept being quiet.  Wouldn’t it be poetic if the last thing you saw on this world were the moon with it’s beautiful little stars around it?  

„I’m just getting pretty fucking tired.“ You said. Your voice was clear, yet so far away. Han was sobbing now, his arms remaining around you, mumbling things to try and comfort you, or maybe even himself. You heard a few words and sentences between his sobs. „No that’s not true. I love you, please i can help you, please let me i-… This is not you, you just need some rest and….and…“ You smiled at the moon. You were realeasing his trembling arms, and before he could react you stepped closer to the edge. He wasn’t able to stop you anymore. And oh, how poetic, that the last thing he saw of you, was a smile, pretty but tired like the moon. And you, you saw the moon, and it’s stars, before you gently closed your eyes. „Bye my love.“ You whispered, before the cold ground hit you.

taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @darqlys @onementally-unstabel-kid

[steadysuitenthusiast]

ahhh for the ask game, casey

between friends - affection

could be read as angsty, i know, but could also just be a lil sexy 🙂‍↕️

-may @skzms

Affection - Between Friends

This is giving angsty ex boyfriend but new fwb vibes with… Jisung.

Jisung who knows he shouldn’t be coming back to you the way he is. He got drunk one night about 3 months after you broke up and called you up. Told you how much he missed being wrapped in your arms and the way it felt being inside you.

One thing led to another and you ended up in his dorm room laying on the floor drinking soju straight from the bottle whenever you’re bored. Your friends don’t know, his friends don’t know. It’s this dirty little secret between two people who used to know everything about each other.

Jisung swears each time that it’ll be the last. That every time he sinks into your wet heat, he’ll quit his habit of you the next day. But he knows he’s lying to himself. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he’s looking for affection in the wrong place. He knows you don’t want him the same way anymore, you told him as much the last time you were riding him with his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises in the shape of his finger tips. Leaving his mark in a way he never had with anyone before you and still hasn’t with anyone since you.

But what he doesn’t know is being with him does more than just fill you up so deliciously until your eyes roll into the back of your head. It fills the empty space inside of you that was left after he left you. That no one else has been able to fill you mind, body, and soul the way he can.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ve both been looking for affection in all the wrong places.

@skzms

[privetdrive]

"but how much do you love me??"

Minsung fluff/crack, domestic life, jisung being a bit insecure and needy, minho being sweet

word count: 1.8k

It was a bit after dinner and the two lovers relaxed on their sofa. Minho had prepared a lovely dinner while Jisung had been working hard in the studio with 3racha all day. 

These two always had each other’s backs and knew how to support each other wordlessly. Their connection was something only you see in stories and dramas. And finally they were creating a home together.

Nothing could destroy such domestic bliss, that is except, the anxious mind of Han Jisung.

“Jagi?” Jisung asked softly from Minho’s lap. 

Minho had his fingers mindlessly running through Jisung’s locks of hair. “Mm?” 

“Can I ask you something?” Jisung ask in a small voice.

“Of course you can, everything okay?” 

Jisung sits up and leans back on the couch sighing. 

“Its stupid” He grumbles.

“Its not stupid if its bothering you babo” Minho ruffles his hair.

Jisung pouts. 

“Come on, what is it” Minho urges again.

“Its just, I was thinking about us, and our future, and our past..” He speaks slowly, almost dancing around what he wants to talk about. 

Minho hums. “Right, and what were you thinking?”

Jisung rolls into the couch hiding his face whining. 

“You’ll make fun of me..” He says muffled by the cushions.

Minho chuckles fondly, giving Jisung’s bum a loving squeeze. He lays beside him spooning him. 

“I’m not gonna make fun of you okay? I promise, I’m listening” Minho says softly and earnestly. He presses a kiss to Jisung’s nape which makes him shiver.

“You can always tell me anything hannie.. I love you” Minho adds softly kissing his shoulder.

“But thats just it…” Jisung whines.

“What?”

“I love you, I love you so much I don’t think I’ll ever love someone this much again.. or have ever..” Jisung’s voice trembles slightly. Minho takes his hand interlacing their fingers. 

“Aw jagi..” Minho coos sweetly.

“You’re my whole world.” Jisung says pout clearly audible.

“Youre my whole world too hannie, you know that..” Minho kisses below his ear. 

“But.. how much do you love me?” Jisung turns in Minho’s arms to face him. 

His big doe eyes lock with Minho’s calm and kind gaze.

“Jagiya… this is too cheesy. I’m not poetic like you, I just love you with everything I am and plan on never stopping okay?” He answers as sweet as he can. He cups his soft cheeks stroking them lovingly. “Okay?” Minho searches Jisung’s gaze to gage if that is the answer he wanted. Judging by the intensifying pout, it was not.

“But like… if you had to put your love in a space, like a container, what would that be? Like would it fit in a basket? Stadium?” Jisung countered.

Minho sighed internally. 

“It would fill the entire ocean. Are we done?” It took everything in Minho not to roll his eyes at Jisung’s needy behavior. He was being adorable sure, Minho loved Jisung’s authentic self. 

Jisung went quiet chewing on his lip, Minho decided he would now mentally prepare an answer to “would you love me if I was worm”, for this seemed like where this conversation was going.

However what Jisung asked, Minho did not expect, nor have a prepared answer for.

“How much do you love Soonie doongie and dori?” Jisung dropped the bomb.

Minho tensed. 

“…What are you doing?” Minho’s voice was low and tentative.

Jisung shrugs feeling more bold. 

“How much do you love the cats?” He repeats.

“They’re my babies!” Minho claims defensively.

“So how much do you love them… more than could fill the ocean?” 

“This feels like a trap”

Minho sits up running a hand through his hair.

Jisung sits up and shuffles to standing clearly getting more worked up.

“It’s a simple question Min, who do you love more, me or the cats, and why is it the cats?”

“I didn’t say that!” Minho exasperates.

“You don’t need to!” Jisung huffs stomping his foot.

“This is what was upsetting you?” Minho asks incredulously.

“How can I cope with knowing you could never love me as much as the cats?” Jisung speaks softly from his heart. As ridiculous as it was, he was very much affected by this thought.

“Jagi.. I’ve never said I love you more than Soondoongdor…” Minho speaks calmly wanting to ease the tension.

“You’re not denying it!” Jisung squeaks.

“I love you both equally!” Minho relents.

“They’re pets… I’m your partner!” Jisung argues.

“You’re all my family!” Minho was feeling defensive now. 

“Do you hate the cats?” Minho asked half joking. Jisung huffed.

“I don't hate the cats”

“Mm i’m getting a vibe you're jealous of the cats” Minho smirks.

Jisung sighs frustrated. 

“I knew you wouldn’t take this seriously..” Jisung runs his hands through his hair upset. He paces around the living room. Minho sighs sitting on the couch watching his stressed boyfriend walk back and forth. He rubs his temples. 

“Jagi..” He calls to him.

Jisung ignores him. Minho then stands with a slight groan and walks over stopping Jisung from pacing. His hands grasping his shoulders. 

“I am taking it seriously. I am just trying to understand. Do you not like the cats or the fact that I love them?” Minho asked slowly actually trying decipher the thought process Jisung went through to be so upset with him for loving his pets.

Jisung looked at him with a determined glare. “If the house was on fire what would you save first?”

Jisung was trying a new tactic.

“Other than the cats?”

“Minho!” Jisung whined.

“Probably my diary… photo album… I have those letters from my parents—

“Me! Grab me!” Jisung cries out.

“Why are you still in the burning house?” 

“Because hypothetically this happens when I’m asleep”

“Okay… so I would wake you up” 

“No” Jisung sighs annoyed. Minho is still not getting it. “Okay you come home the house is already on fire”

“Were you trying to cook dinner?” Minho muses, Jisung is not amused.

“The house is in flames, what do you do, and don’t say—“

“Call 911” They say together.

“And why not?” Minho scoffs.

“Who knows how long till they get there!”

“Hanji are you asking me to run into a burning building..”

“Shouldn’t have to..” Jisung grumbles. Minho sighs reaching for him again. Jisung swats his hands away. He puts his hands on his hips and takes breath shaking his head. Minho swallowed thickly seeing his hurt demeanor. This was serious, he finally took that in. It was serious to Jisung, so it was serious to him. 

“Jagiya..” Minho starts in an apologetic soft tone. He moves towards Jisung slowly. Jisung keeps his gaze down and gulps. Minho knew he was bound to start crying any moment. He gently placed his hands on Jisung’s waist, stroking his sides soothingly. Jisung sniffles before lifting his head meeting Minho’s concerned eyes. Jisung tries to blink away his glassy eyes and swallows thickly before speaking.

“If I came home, and I saw our home in flames… I’m not sure the kind of person I would become after seeing that. Everything I know and love is in there. Min, I probably would run into that burning building with only one thought in my mind. You.” He spoke voice unwavering, gaze unshifting and Minho felt dizzy.

He blinked a few times squeezing Jisung’s waist lovingly. He shakes his head furrowing his eyebrows and cups one cheek. He leans in close enough feel Jisung’s breath. He speaks in a hushed tone.

“I wouldn’t want you to do that. It’s far too dangerous. I can’t have you getting hurt or worse because of me.” He frowns at the thought of Jisung putting himself in harm’s way ever. Jisung’s eyes flicker to Minho’s lips. That wasn’t the point, Jisung thought. He was supposed to save me first but he thought of the damn cats. But, I know he still loves me… want to kiss that sweet frown away. No, he has to answer right at least once. Jisung then looked at Minho with a new tactic.

“What if there was a train..” Jisung started and Minho’s eyes closed as he let a breath out his nose. Jisung walks out of his arms continuing on with another hypothetical scenario. 

“And the train could either run on two tracks, on one track tied up are Soondoongdori, and on the other track tied up is me, Han Jisung, handsome, sexy, your loving boyfriend and band mate—

“I’d stop the train” Minho says as if its obvious.

“No thats not an option!”

“Why not?”

“There’s no off switch its just a switch to change tracks, so you have to choose a track”

“Hannie, I say this with all the love in my heart… what the fuck are we talking about?” He holds his cheeks looking into his big doe eyes.

“I think I’m being pretty clear. Would you rather murder me or the cats, Minho?” Jisung challenges.

Minho’s eyes widen. “Jagiyaaaa why can’t I stop the train?” 

Jisung buries his face in his hands whining. 

“Because that’s not the point of the question! It’s who do you love more?”

He looks up face a bit flushed realizing he really did ask that of Lee Minho.

Minho plopped on the couch in defeat.

“I hate this game.”

Jisung stands across from him arms crossed.

“It’s no fun for me either.” He mumbles.

Minho sits arm extending telling Jisung to come over. He hesitiates but obeys. He stands between Minhos knees looking down at him. Minho takes takes his hands gently but firmly. 

“Sungie, it’s different. I love you very much and, yes I love the cats very much too. Now tell me honestly, are you feeling jealous of the cats?”

“Jealous of the cats? I’m not crazy!” He scoffs nervously.

Minho kisses his knuckles. “Baby I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like the cats are my only love. You know you own my heart” 

Jisung sighs softly, loving his touch and kisses. 

“No I know. It’s just… fine yes, I’m jealous of the cats ok? I love you so much that I wish you loved me as much as them.” He says rushed under his shaky breath.

Minho firmly grips his chin.

“I don’t love anything as much as I love you.” 

Jisung’s eyes soften. 

“Don’t lie.” He pleads in a whisper.

“Come here…” Minho pulls him into his chest. He gives him a tight hug kissing his head. Jisung wraps his arms around his torso head tucked into his neck sighing. They hold each other a moment, Minho rubbing his back between his shoulders soothingly. Jisung moves his head to look at him.

“You know one day they will die.” He says quietly with the last bit of envy he has. 

“And so will we.” Minho concludes caress his cheek. 

They gaze at each other a moment finally feeling seen.

“I’m sorry…” Jisung starts.

“None of that…” Minho smiles shaking his head. He holds Jisung’s jaw guiding him into a sweet kiss. Jisung grips Minho’s shirt tightly. Minho pecks Jisung’s lips with care but Jisung wanted more and started kissing back sloppily. Minho smirked and deepened the kiss.

“Meooowww..” Soonie mewed. 

“Not now I’m busy..” Minho muttered not breaking the kiss. He could feel Jisung smile.

~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~

[itsseohannbin]

〉Get On My Level, Bitch〈

Jisung Drabble

A lil something for my gamer girlies

© itshannjisung, 2024

♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡

Genre: Fluff. Crack.

Established Relationship.

Summary: After losing one too many rounds of Hyungs vs Maknaes in Call Of Duty, Jisung enlists help from his gamer girlfriend, who teaches him how to win and impresses his friends as she does so.

Pairing: Idol! Han Jisung x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Crack. Swearing. Soft boi Han Jisung. Gamer Skz. Nerdy Skz. Lots of gaming terms are used. Gun and knife use (in-game). mentions of the boys being shot (obvi in game). Reader is older than Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin. suggestive towards the end.

** Members' clan tags/gamer tags are also used.

Word Count: 4k lol fuck

Inspired by a dream I had of exactly this, so this was completely self-indulgent LOL

Enjoy!

Waking up to an empty bed on a shared day off was extremely unusual for you. Typically, when you and your boyfriend had the same days off, you'd both lounge in bed together well into the afternoon, just relaxing and enjoying each other's company. You'd usually be starfished out across the mattress reading Webtoons on your phone, while Jisung would be cuddled up between your legs, his back against your mid-section while he watched an anime on his laptop.

So, when you woke up to nothing but emptiness beside you one random Thursday morning, you were more than a little concerned. That was until you heard the faint sound of Jisung cursing aggressively coming from two rooms over.

A smile spread across your face almost immediately as you pulled yourself out of bed and wrapped one of Jisung's oversized hoodies around you. It had been a long time since he had stepped foot inside the game room.

With one comeback finishing and another one right around the corner, you haven't seen any of the guys online at all lately. They must've finally all gotten a couple days off together because Jisung never went online unless all of them did.

You were anxious to see what game they were playing, and admittedly, excited for the possibility of a gaming day with your boyfriend. Sure, lounging in bed all day with take-out and anime was the perfect way to spend time together, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss the days' pre-5-star comeback where the two of you would be in front of your computers for hours on end.

You grabbed your phone and slipped on a pair of comfy slippers before tiptoeing out of the room, giggling quietly to yourself as you listened to Jisung's annoyed words sounding all the way from down the hall.

"Yah! Quit camping and come face me like a man, Hyung!" Something akin to a laugh and a groan of frustration left Jisung's mouth shortly before a loud "Fuck!" echoed off the walls.

"Lino-hyung, you're so fucking dead!"

Once you reached the door to the game room where you and Jisung had computers set up side by side, you leaned against the door frame and watched him silently in admiration. Jisung sat in his big black leather chair, the RGB lights in the computer tower the only source of light in the room as they flashed different shades of red against the stark white walls.

His back was to you, his big chunky headphones covering both of his ears and his microphone stand that he got from Felix that previous holiday season was sitting way too close to his mouth. You had to suppress a laugh when his lips grazed the metal mesh of the mic so hard you could hear Changbin yelling through the headset for Jisung to stop eating it.

He was a rapper through and through on and off stage. You made a mental note to pick him up a foam microphone cover to help keep his teeth from grazing the material, and more importantly, help prevent Changbin from killing Jisung altogether.

"Top right, top right, top right," he then spoke quickly, his shoulders tensing up for a moment before relaxing again. "Nice one Seung. Good coms." he then praised.

You watched him for a couple more minutes before stepping into the room and coming up behind him. You were careful not to startle him while he was so clearly focused on his game, your hands lightly resting on his shoulders so he knew you were there.

"They're rushing B, they're rushing B, they're rushing B! Oh, hi Baby!" Jisung turned his head for a moment to beam up at you adorably with those large, brown eyes and full cheeks. He grinned and kissed the back of your hand quickly before he went back to focusing on the screen in front of him.

"Fuck, I died. Sorry. Innie behind you!"

Your eyes immediately became glued to the computer screen as he called for Jeongin again, another smile making its way to your face. They were playing Call of Duty, your current favorite game to play, and you had a sudden urge to sit down next to him at your own computer and join.

During the weeks leading up to the release of 5-Star, you spent a lot of your free time online playing the game with your own friends while Jisung and the boys prepared for their comeback. Jisung knew you loved to game, he loved that you did, but he didn't know just how good you had gotten at it in the hours you spent home alone while he was away.

You genuinely did love the game, as the franchise itself was one you played throughout your years growing up, but you mostly wanted to show off to Jisung and the rest of the guys. They would always tease you for playing 'girly' games, like Stardew Valley or Animal Crossing, and even occasionally, The Sims 4, so you were determined to improve your FPS skills and impress them.

"Fuck, how did you even see me there Binnie-hyung?" Jisung whined as you watched his screen go grey. He pressed a button on his RGB keyboard and quickly brought up the scoreboard to see how he was doing, and you saw that they were playing a 4v4 match. Hyungs vs Maknaes.

This wasn't going to end well.

When it was the older four versus the younger four, it never did.

"Aha, get on my level, bitch." Changbin taunted in response.

You felt Jisung's shoulders tense under your touch when the game ended a second later, his death being the final kill. He hit the top of the desk with his fist lightly in annoyance at his comical and unfortunate death before a laugh left his throat.

"Don't look at that guys!" he begged as the 'Final Kill' camera replayed across the screen. His hands went up to cover his face in embarrassment. "Please! I'm so embarrassed!"

You couldn't tell if the sound that left his throat a second later was a cry or a laugh, but you assumed the latter as you watched the Kill Cam show his character flying back into the match on a parachute. Changbin had seen him clear as day and sniped him right out of the sky, leaving Jisung's character to fall dramatically to the ground.

You could hear the hoots of laughter coming through the headset from the rest of the guys, his teammates included, and it made a laugh of your own escape your mouth before you could stop it. Jisung turned to look at you with squinted eyes, a playful grin on his face as he gaped at you in mock betrayal.

"Baby!" he cried as he watched your shoulders shake with the force of your laughter. "You're supposed to be on my side!" he feigned offense.

"I'm sorry Sungie," you giggled as you squeezed his shoulders reassuringly and planted a soft kiss onto his messy bedhead. Jisung sent you a playful pout before he turned back around. "You're just too cute for words."

Jisung scoffed and returned your affection, planting another kiss on your hand as the final scoreboard flashed onto the screen. Interested to see how everyone played, you leaned in to take a look at everyone's scores.

Hyungs (4/4) Score: 100

[3Racha] DaddyDwaekki99; Kills:37 Deaths:9

[3Racha] xCB97x; Kills:30 Deaths:15

[SKZOO] Butt-Hunter0325; Kills:25 Deaths:18

[SKZOO] Jin&Tonic00; Kills:8 Deaths:24

Maknaes (4/4) Score: 66

[SKZOO] BrownieBoiT_T; Kills:29 Deaths:12

[SKZOO] Nimgnues148; Kills:20 Deaths:27

[SKZOO] XxMAKNA3.0N.T0PxX; Kills:13 Deaths:27

[3Racha] QuokkaPrince; Kills:4 Deaths:34

"Are you serious? How the hell did I do worse than Hyune?" Jisung grumbled as he looked at the scores, his face falling to one of disappointment. You could hear Bangchan cackling light-heartedly through the headset.

You let your hands then slide down Jisung's broad chest and hugged him tightly against you in an attempt to cheer him up. You kissed the top of his head again before resting your chin on it.

"Hey, I think you did good." you voiced. Jisung's hand came up to rub your arm in appreciation, though he was still frowning to himself.

"You're supposed to say that," he mumbled. "You're my girlfriend."

You just smiled down at him and leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. Jisung then lightly tapped his microphone to mute it before he reached up to cup your face, bringing your lips back to his for a gentle kiss. You smiled against his mouth before pulling away.

He tasted like coffee.

"Good morning, Jagi. Did you sleep well?" he asked now that he finally had a moment to talk with the game being over. You nodded and pressed a firm kiss to his exposed forehead, causing him to smile up at you.

"I slept perfectly," you answered with an adoring smile as you brushed some hair out of his face. Jisung craned his head back and puckered his lips once more, silently asking for another kiss, which you happily obliged.

His lips were slightly chapped and dry, probably from all the talking he'd been doing and lack of hydration, but they still felt warm against yours. You felt a shiver run down your spine when his tongue found yours a moment later, your body tingling with pleasure the way it always did when kissing him, even after all these years together.

"Did you eat?" you asked after his lips pulled away from you. The guys were busy upgrading their guns and changing their specs, so you had a little bit of alone time with Jisung before he was called back for another round.

"Mhmm., Jisung hummed as he swiveled his chair around and pulled you into his lap. He planted a kiss on your cheek and wrapped his arms lovingly around your waist before nuzzling his face into your neck. He loved physical touch with you, and he'd eat it up every chance he got. "I sure did. Just had some eggs and toast. There's coffee left if you want any."

"Thanks, Baby." you grinned down at him as you wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled him impossibly closer to you. His lips found purchase on the skin of your throat where he began peppering small pecks of love all over. "I'm really happy to see you back in here finally. You guys have all been working really hard lately and you all deserve time off to relax and have fun."

"There's a double XP event happening this week so we're trying to all get upgraded before we have to go back to work," he explained. You hummed in response, content with the affection he was currently giving you in between words. Jisung then pulled away, giving you an anxious look.

"Is it okay if I spend a couple of hours gaming with them? We can go watch some shows if you want to instead, I don-" You cut him off abruptly with a shake of your head and a hand over his mouth. Jisung peered up at you with wide eyes, waiting nervously for your response.

"Sungie, baby, if you want to spend the day gaming with the guys, I'm all for it. I promise," you assured him with a quick kiss to his nose. "I was actually thinking of joining you, honestly. It's been a long time since we had a gaming day."

You moved your hands to tangle in the wisps of hair that sat at the nape of his neck, toying aimlessly with the freshly-dyed strands of dark brown.

"Yeah?" he asked with a smirk. "You gonna' play some Stardew or something?"

You grinned down at him shyly.

"Actually, I was going to ask if I could try a round of Call of Duty with you guys. Would you teach me?"

Jisung's eyebrows disappeared behind his hair as he looked at you in shock. His mouth fell open slightly as if he couldn't believe his ears before it broke out into the most adorable smile you've ever seen.

"You want me to teach you how to play?" he asked, excitement already causing him to vibrate in his seat. He'd been waiting for the day for you to ask him to teach you how to play all his favorite games, even though there weren't a lot of them. He was absolutely ecstatic at your inquiry, he could barely mask it as he jumped happily.

"Of course, I will teach you, Baby!" he squealed when you nodded. "I'm not very good myself, but we can do a one-on-one match so you can get used to the controls without being overwhelmed."

The excitement and happiness on his soft features almost made you blow your cover. He was so cute when he got excited over little things like this. It made you fall impossibly more in love with him.

You shook your head quickly before he could even finish his sentence, causing confusion to glaze over in his stare.

"I want to play with the guys. Right now. I want the next round," you claimed as you shifted on his lap, turning around to take the mouse in your hand. Your other hand landed on the keyboard and your fingers twitched with anticipation. They fell perfectly into place and you hoped to god Jisung didn't notice.

Jisung was taken by surprise at your eagerness, but he just laughed and wrapped his arm around you and went to unmute the mic before you grabbed ahold of his wrist and stopped him.

"Don't tell the guys I'm playing. I want to surprise them," you insisted. Jisung raised an eyebrow at you.

"Surprise them how?" he asked slowly, his eyes suspicious yet amused. You beamed back and kissed him on the nose once more.

"I'm going to win this round for you. That'll stop them from teasing you so much." You could hear the guys shit-talking each other through the headset Jisung had looped around his neck when you initially sat down. It was all in good fun, obviously, but they were making a lot of digs at Jisung, which only made you more determined to bring home a win for Ji and the Maknaes.

Jisung gave you a skeptical look, biting his lower lip in uncertainty when he realized how serious you were.

"Have you played this game before?" he questioned. You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly.

"Once or twice while you were at work." you fibbed, hoping he didn't catch onto your lie the way he always did with you.

"Alright, but if you fuck up my K-D ratio, I'm gon' be really upset." he teased. He sat himself up straighter so he could lean his chin on your shoulder and watch. You rolled your eyes at him and let out a snarky remark, to which he laughed.

"Can't fuck it up more than it already is."

"Har har, very funny."

Jisung hooked his headset back onto one ear, allowing you to listen in on the conversation as well. You took the time to make yourself your own custom gun class, one that you were used to and had been using for months prior, but you tried to act clueless as you put it together.

So far, so good.

Jisung, and the rest of the guys for that matter, had no clue what was coming for them.

"Alright, so move your character using the WASD keys." Jisung lightly pushed the hand on the keyboard out of his way and demonstrated for you. "Space is jump and 'R' is reload. Use the middle button on the mouse-" he quickly moved his other hand to hover over yours, demonstrating again. "to use your lethal equipment, and the '1' key to switch to your tactical equipment."

You nodded along, playing dumb as you repeated his actions.

"The left mouse button is how you fire your weapon, while the right mouse button is used to aim down sight. 'E' is used to interact with shit around the world, and 'M' will bring up your map." he continued on without hesitation, waiting for you to nod in understanding before moving on to the next. "You can crouch and slide by pressing the 'C' key, or you can lay down by holding it. Cool?"

You nodded again, biting your lower lip to stop a laugh from escaping your throat as his vague instructions. Jisung misunderstood your action and began rubbing his hands up and down your arms reassuringly.

"It's okay, Baby. Don't be nervous. You got this. I'll be your eyes and ears, okay?"

After going over the rest of the controls, all of which you already knew and more, Jisung unmuted his mic and hopped back into the conversation the guys were having about the upcoming album due to come out in the next couple of months.

His hands were now resting on your hips reassuringly while he talked with the guys, acting as if he was playing, and you felt yourself getting jittery from the anticipation that tore through you when the countdown finally began.

When the clock hit zero and all players were free to move, you quickly worked your way around the familiar map and went directly to your favorite vantage point, perfect for sniping off of. Jisung snorted to himself when he saw your character pull out the sniper rifle you customized.

"Good luck, Sweetheart. Binnie-hyung is a sniper king," he mumbled quietly enough for only you to hear. You shook your head.

"Not for long," you whispered back.

Felix's voice came barreling through the headset suddenly, causing you to jump as adrenaline pumped through your veins. You loved the rush that came with these FPS games.

"Roof of the red building!" he yelled excitedly. Jisung's finger came up to point out where Binnie's character was sneakily army-crawling across a rooftop in the distance, just like Felix had said. You pulled out your sniper, aimed down your sight, and lined up the shot. In a second, POW! Binnie had died in one swift shot to the head.

"What the fuck?" Changbin laughed in disbelief into his mic, confusion clear in his tone. "Are you using a sniper rifle, Ji?"

You held back a cackle at his words, allowing Jisung to answer with a small laugh of his own, the disbelief in his own voice barely unnoticed. "Yeah, I figured I'd change it up a bit." he offered to his older member. He sounded so casual, but his eyebrows were once again raised in surprise as your lucky shot.

Looking through the scope of your gun, you watched as Changbin's character climbed back onto the same roof moments later and aimed his own rifle in your direction, a flash of light in the distance. You were quick to get up from your crouched position and move away from his field of view, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you changed position and sniped him again from a different angle.

POW!

Dead again.

Binnie let out a string of curse words as his body rolled dramatically off the roof to the ground below.

"Yah! What the fuck?" he laughed again.

You knew your cover was now blown, so you jumped from the rooftop you were lying across and parachuted down to the ground, running for cover when you heard gunshots going off all around you.

"Ji, behind you!" Jeongin shouted. You twirled your character around and pulled out your secondary weapon, a simple pistol, seeing Lino's character running towards you at full speed with nothing but a knife in his hand.

Typical Lino.

You smirked at his antics and shot him point blank before he could reach you, causing Lino to squeal dramatically like a girl into the mic, which in turn, made you and Jisung both wince at the unusually high pitch of it.

"Nooooo! Dammit!" he laughed.

Jisung gave you a soft high-five at your kill and watched in awe as the game continued.

For fifteen minutes, you sat rock solid in Jisung's lap, your eyes hyper-focused on the screen as you ran across the map, killing off the Hyungs and racking up your team's points. The boys were all shocked at Jisungs 'sudden skill', suspicious of him cheating or hacking the system, but he had lost the ability to defend himself as he was too shocked to even say anything in response.

He muted his mic and was cheering you on, congratulating you on every kill and assist you got. He had chalked it all up to beginner luck, but when you got the game-winning kill, sniping Chan from across the map where he hid almost too perfectly between two barrels, barely in your sights, he knew.

He knew this wasn't your first, second, or even third time playing. Based on the snicker on your face when the scoreboard popped up, deeming you first place on the winning team, he knew you'd been practicing while he was away at work. And while he was envious of your skill and abilities, he was more proud than anything else.

"Okay, Ji, seriously? What the fuck?" How did you get from the bottom of the scoreboard to the top in the span of five rounds?" Felix was in awe. You smiled over at Jisung upon hearing the younger males' question., and before Jisung could answer with some cocky response you knew he'd have, you tapped the mic to unmute it and spoke into it playfully.

"Hi guys," you giggled.

As much as you wanted Jisung to take credit, you couldn't. You worked so hard to impress these guys and you didn't want to pass up the opportunity to prove them wrong with their teasing.

"Holy shit, Y/n?" Hyunjin chuckled in disbelief. "Was that you playing the entire round?"

"The one and only," you confirmed with a smirk.

"Fuck, I want you on my team next time. You snipe better than I do." Changbin spoke next. You shook your head and tsked at him.

"Sorry Binnie, no can do."

"Why not?" Hyunjin then added. "You're technically mine and Changbin-hyungs Noona, so you're playing on the wrong team!" You could practically hear his frown through the speaker of Jisung's headphones.

"Sorry guys. I play for Jisung and Jisung only."

Seungmin scoffed playfully at your words.

"You're a fucking simp." he joked. You laughed alongside everyone else before hitting them with the final blow.

"Looks like you guys are just going to have to, what is it that Binnie said last round? Get on my level, bitch." you mocked.

The guys all burst out into laughter at your impression, Binnie included.

While the guys went on to boast about your incredible win, Jisung muted the microphone once more and nuzzled his face back into your neck lovingly.

"You're a little shit," he teased, his nose tracing the shape of your ear. A shiver ran up your spine as his hot breath fanned across your throat.

"What did I do?" you asked innocently as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him to trace his nose along your neck before plating a teasing kiss below your jaw. He squeezed your hips and nibbled your skin gently as he laughed at your innocent tone.

"You've been playing this a lot, haven't you?" he questioned before biting your neck again and sucking the skin into his mouth. You sensed he was punishing you for playing him so well, but you didn't mind. You loved the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

"Every day while you're at work." you breathed out. "Gotta' learn how to put the boys in their place for teasing you so much. Gotta protect my baby." you then cooed.

Jisung's hands trailed up your sides again, sliding underneath the fabric of his sweater. His touch on your skin felt electric as his mouth teased your earlobe, his hands traveling further up your torso.

The bulge in his pants that he was rutting against you was growing harder with each passing second. Leave it to Jisung to get turned on by something as simple as you knowing how to game.

"Fuck," he whispered in an adoring tone. "I really hit the fucking jackpot with you, Jagi."

Hannjis Pookie Wookie Bears 🐻: @moonlightndaydreams @noellllslut @bethanysnow @channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604 @newhope8

[soobnny]

loving is terrifying — han jisung. best friends to lovers. accidental confessions (1.6k words)

in the midst of ranting, han jisung accidentally confesses he’s in love with you

“And if I burn the whole school down, would you bail me out of jail, Hanji?”

You’re still only a few sentences into the important speech you were asked to write, and you’re starting to feel agitated, chewed up pencil carving out your thoughts on paper before finding its way abandoned on your desk.

It’s been a few hours, and you’d chosen to put the pencil down lest you want to bring yourself to insanity.

Pretty lies usually come easy to you, but now they’re burning holes into your skull and flicking the ashes into your brain. In the reprieve, all you can think about is your anger for the authority.

“Bold of you to assume I won’t be your accomplice.” Jisung retorts from where he’s seated next to you on the floor, arms crossed behind his head as he leans against his couch.

“There’s just so much wrong in the system. Their code of rules deprive students of their creativity. Only the top students have a multitude of opportunities waiting for them. And don’t get me started on how the authorities put so little value into culture and societal issues. Everything is wrong, just wrong in all ways!”

There’s a word count in Jisung’s head on how many times you’ve said wrong in one sitting, but he’s looking at you with a hint of something in his eyes. Almost adoration.

“And we can change it by burning the school down?” A tone of amusement is laced in your best friend’s voice, though you fail to search for a trace of judgment.

“We can start there. Then the world.” You take the pencil back and fiddle with it between your fingers.

“The world? That’s very ambitious of you.”

You glare at him.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t be by your side. I like ambitious.” Jisung smiles at you, making sure to lock his eyes with yours so you can see heavy genuineness where his pupils are. “What’s the next step then?”

“Climate change.”

Jisung throws his head back in quiet laughter, and the slight movement allows you a whip of his laundry detergent from the white shirt he’s wearing. “Okay, climate change.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” His lips quirk up into a smile, eyes morphing from crescents to a full moon as he struggles to defend his name. There is still laughter even in the way he licks the inside of his cheek and takes your hands in his.

You fail to copy his laughter.

“Your eyes are upset. Are they directed at me?” Jisung softens his voice, only speaking one his laughter has boiled down. He pulls you closer than you already are, and you don’t notice the way he grabs the pencil between your fingers in the process to set it down.

“Of course not.” You mumble. “I’m mad at everything else, at everything wrong.”

A tally adds to his word count.

You sigh when you let go of his hands to take the paper in your own, eyes leaden as they scan across the sentences you had bullshited earlier. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to write this.”

“Just scream it out.”

“What?”

“Scream out what you actually want to say.” He grins.

You gape at him.

“I’m not screaming in your living room. Your neighbors are going to think someone’s being murdered.”

“Then just say it. Whatever you want to say. Everything wrong.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay, I’ll start then.” He smiles, and it’s heart-warmingly encouraging. “I wish it was easier to ground myself. I live in my head most of the time, and opening up is hard, and I wish forming any form of relationship wasn’t so scary.”

“Ji—“

“Okay, now your turn.”

“We are not going to ignore what you just said.”

“I said, your turn.”

“Jisung.”

“Please?” He places a hand over yours, and it’s enough for your brain to short circuit.

“Alright, fine. But we are going to talk about it later.”

“Now, what about those things that are wrong?” Jisung asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“Well, uh— our poor education system, that’s for one. And, the government. Blatant sexism too, how stupid the patriarchy is, how I still can’t parallel park for the life of me.”

You start with sporadic things, the ones that instantly pop in your head when you think about things that make you upset, and as you continue to talk, you dig a little deeper, and you don’t even realize you’ve stood up and your hands are flailing around like a salesman by the second.

“And, don’t even get me started on the transportation system. It’s so dumb how car-centered design came to be because how is it that the people who have access to private vehicles also have the easiest routes over the less fortunate who walk or commute? Like, why do we have to adjust to the roads?”

There’s a long list of things you want to say, finally letting loose and narrating all the things you’ve kept locked away in the back of your mind because you’re with the one person you can trust. When you meet Jisung’s gaze, he’s looking at you in awe.

“I hate how we’re branded as prodigies when we were younger. I hate the expectations that come with it, that we have to be great all the time, and, oh, this actually feels really good.”

Jisung chuckles at the way you come to a sudden realization, but he’s always known you were wiser beyond your years. “You’re brilliant.”

“Well, you have to say something too!”

Jisung fiddles with his fingers, trying to think of where to start. Though, the brilliance that is you and the opportunity of having this moment with you is enough motivation for him to follow suit.

“Uh, it’s so scary how superficial people are nowadays, and how so quickly they’re let down. It stresses me out how a single mistake could cost you so many relationships, but at the same time, who will stress out if not me? And it makes me realize how lucky I am to have the people in my life, and having an opportunity to talk like this really fuels my positivity in life, and it makes me realize even more how much I strongly feel like my life is for you guys, and there is nothing more important to me than being able to be a good person for you guys, like you. I wish I could be the bestest friend for you, maybe even more than that, but fuck, loving is so scary so I wish you’ll never find out how I’m so so in love with you— wait.”

The room falls silent and he’s thinking of a thousand different ways to die on the spot. He’s embarrassed. This is embarrassing, and he’s thinking it really wouldn’t be too late to jump off the bedroom window and hope for the best. A thousand different ways, maybe pretend he never said anything, stand still and maybe you’d think he wasn’t there in the first place. A thousand different ways.

“Han Jisung.”

“Soooo, haha, where were we in your speech again?”

Jisung doesn’t meet your eyes for the fear of rejection. He doesn’t think he has the heart to handle it right now, especially not after his accidental confession.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About how superficial people are? Of course, it’s so scary. Hey, did I tell you about the tim—“

“Is being in love with me something wrong?”

He falls silent, and you can visibly see him start to panic, and his hands are pressed together as if in a prayer as he’s shaking his head profusely. “No, oh god no, it’s not. Honestly, it’s one of the only things I’m sure of, and that says a lot because I’m not sure of anything. I’m not even sure I’m in the right course or the right school or if I’m spending my money the right way, or if I’m even gonna live tomorrow, but fuck, loving you and everything about you is something I will never question.”

You can feel yourself start to smile, and Jisung finds himself copying you. It’s one of the first things he knew he loved about you—your smile, and the way you think, and the sound of your laughter. Despite his erratic heart beating and his fear of this exact moment, he still finds himself smiling when you do.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“What?”

You can visibly see the gears in his head turn, and he’s writing a story he doesn’t know the ending to just yet, but the beginning is so beautiful because it’s with you. Then, he laughs. It’s breathy, and you can almost hear the relief. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I did.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“I’m in love with you, Han Jisung.”

“I’m going to die.”

You laugh, and then he snaps back into reality.

“Can I kiss you?” His tone is so careful, but there’s a hint of something you can only recognize as a slight desperation—like he’s been thinking of it a while.

Jisung reaches out to wrap his arms around your waist, albeit a little shy. It’s a pattern that’s already so familiar. He isn’t a stranger to hugging you, in fact, he’s done it a million times, but the connotations to this one is a little different, and he can’t think straight at the possibility that you might actually consent to letting him kiss you.

“Okay.”

Words that haven’t left being translated into the motion of his lips moving against yours. Honestly, he doesn’t even know who went in for the kiss first. All he knows is his hands are gently rested on your waist and he’s actually kissing you right now, and you can feel the way he’s smiling into the kiss.

It takes a few minutes for you two to pull away, a little out of breath, and he leans in to try and kiss you again but your noses bump against each other’s, and the pair of you can’t help but laugh at how the events of the night had turned.

Jisung marvels at the way everything feels so simple, so right.

“I’m not dreaming, right? Like this is actually happening?”

You laugh even more.

Jisung’s always been afraid of venturing into the unknown, always kept his feelings hidden, and he’s always loathed his mouth for being so uncontrolled with the things he says. But now, with you in his arms, he couldn’t be any more happier about the slip of his tongue and how being with you feels like one of the rare rights among all the wrongs.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 - han jisung x fem reader

wc: 1.3k

sw: MDNI. SMUT, mommy kink, sub jisung, dom reader, jisung’s bendy, anal fingering (m rec), dirty talk, multiple orgasms (m rec), handjob, cumplay, like 2 seconds of vaginal fingering, feminisation, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

he’s so sweet, your boy.

jisung lays beneath you with desperate eyes. he’s naked, cock hard and chubby between slender thighs. his feet are cosy in pink, fluffy socks, and you’re naked next to him. he keeps staring at your tits.

“how bendy are you, my love?” your fingertip trails over jisung’s nipple, dusky and pebbled against his chest. he shivers with anticipation, and then seems to process your question, and his hands move to the pits of his knees.

“sungie’s super bendy, mama,” he grins, and to prove his point, he bends his legs to his head. jisung is super bendy, it seems, and his lithe body contorts until his knees hit his shoulders. the process raises his body off the bed a bit, exposing the beautiful pink pucker of his hole and the way his balls rest above it, heavy and full.

he always gets so leaky when you play like this. his cock rests leaking like a damn faucet on the bottom of his tummy, pubic hair coated with it, and you run your fingers over a dribble of precum. his cock jumps at the feeling of your hand being so close, but you simply coo and slap his balls lightly.

“a-are you gonna play with me now, mommy?” jisung whimpers, and you nod soothingly, kissing the mole on his cheek. he stays in position for you, pliant. jisung can be a brat, sure, but when he’s in his good boy headspace, it’s so easy to be nice to him. his lips part with a shaky breath when your hand moves upwards, hovering just over the tip of his cock.

“how could i not play with you, baby? look at how pretty you are,” you soothe, and jisung smiles, wide and toothy. the smile instantly falls to let out a pornographic moan when you wrap your hand around his cockhead, stroking fast and hard with his precum as lube.

“ah- uh, uh, oh- mommy, mommy, ‘s so- oh, oh, your hands-“ he babbles, fingers paling where they cling onto his knees tightly. “oh, you’re so- mommy. mommy! you’re so hot!”

“thank you, baby,” you hum, pecking his nose. “does that feel good on your little cock, sungie?”

“mm- yeah, yeah,” he nods, hips canting upwards. he’s going to cum soon. he never lasts long when you play with him like this, but you can usually wring two or three more out of him before he’s tapped out. “mm, my cock, ah- oh, god, my balls, my balls! mommy, please!”

you’d spank him for being ungrateful in any other situation, but something about your plaything’s chocolate pleading eyes has you reaching down with your spare hand to cup his balls. your hand is warm around it, and you feel his balls tightening in your hand when you run your thumb over them.

“ah! fucking- hnnnnfg, mommy, mommy, am i good? mama, am i good? please-“

“you’re good, you’re the best boy,” you say, voice level and soft. when you press a kiss to the mole on his neck he moans, and when you suck his skin into your mouth he wails. his body is bouncing on the bed, impatient and needy, and the dripping cock in your hand has you feeling a little nicer than normal. “mm, d’you wanna cum? do you wanna shoot it in your mouth, princess?“

“i- oh, is that why-“

“oh, yeah,” you giggle. his eyes roll back into his head, breath stuttery and heaving. “that’s why you’re bending for mama. i wanna lick your cum out of your mouth.”

“i can- i can- mama, i can do that! please touch my- please, please, my pussy-“

your finger slips from his balls, other hand still pumping frantically at his cock, and you rest it on the puckered skin of his asshole. just the pressure has him seizing up, head rolling against his pillow and tongue lolling out. he looks dumb with it, drooling all down his cheek, and when you force your finger inside unlubed and raw he’s cumming. it sprays upwards, and jisung raises his head, keening through an open mouth as you aim his cum onto his tongue. he’s dirty with it, sticking his tongue out further and grinding down onto your fingers.

when he’s done, tongue sufficiently covered in it, it’s only a brief moment before he’s dropping his legs and lunging towards you. he pushes his cum into your mouth, desperate, and you suck his tongue clean to hear him whine. it’s messy, spit slicking to your lips and dribbling to your chins. jisung’s hands grab impatiently at whatever he can reach.

“fuck- mm, fuck- mama, i want-“ jisung huffs, his fingers pressing between your legs. you’re naked for him, have been since the start. your folds are soaking with your arousal, hole clenching with need. “you want me? you- i can get hard again, fuck-“

“give it to me, baby, c’mon,” you moan, and he nods, flipping you over to rest on your back. his body looms over you, chest pink with his flush and you giggle as he pushes his cock into your pussy. he’s still a little too soft, despite his cock chubbing up again from your kissing, and he whines through the overstimulation. “thaaat’s my good boy. oh, my pretty baby.”

jisung nods, and you feel him shift just slightly forward. his cock hardens with the movement, and then he’s nodding again, as if to motivate himself. he huffs out a breath and you wait, silent, and then his hips are bunny fucking into you.

“oh, fuckin’ pussy- shit, ‘s so good, ‘s so good, baby, mommy, my baby, oh-“

“you like mommy’s pussy, baby? nice ‘n wet?” you coo, thighs resting apart for jisung to fuck into you. you’re so wet your pussy squelches and dribbles with every thrust, and the noises only make jisung louder. the bed squeaks with his thrusts. “mm, you’re so good. fuckin’ me so good, honey.”

“yeah? yeah? it’s good?” he babbles, hands scrabbling on the sheets to find purchase to fuck you harder. you moan when he finds what he’s looking for, and his knees kick like bambi on ice to try and get closer to you. “my- my cock’s sensitive, mama, it’s-“

“sungie, baby, don’t call it that,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. he’s breathless, only moaning in a confused tone at your statement. “that’s a clit, baby, not a cock.”

jisung positively sobs. his head falls to your chest, eyes finally overflowing with tears as his hips don’t stop with the excessive pace. “i love you- i love you, mama, mom- mommy, i love you-“

“yeah, sweetheart, i love you too,” you reply halfheartedly, pussy finally tingling with the beginnings of an orgasm. your lover only fucks you harder when you moan, drooling on your tits messily and delirious with it. “d’ya like scissoring me, baby? you’re gonna make me cum, dirty little princess.”

“y-yeah? yeah! yeah, m- i- princess is gonna make you cum, i am,” he sobs, nodding, and you run your fingers through his hair. it’s tousled from your activities and you pull on the back, making him let out a wet, high pitched noise. “please! please cum, please cum, i g’ta cum!”

“i’m gonna cum, princess, i’m gonna cum, keep fucking me, just like that,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. with a particularly well timed thrust you’re shaking and cumming, pussy gushing and squirting over his cock, and jisung can’t help but cum.

his cock spurts inside of you, less than the last time but still a lot. jisung always cums a lot, and hard, like he’s doing now - his socked feet kick against the bed with it, eyes rolling back into his head and fingers gripping your hips desperately.

after a few seconds pass, he’s still shaking on your chest like he can’t help himself. his hips kick, once and then twice, and he giggles delightedly. “‘m still cumming. feels s’good, i- ah!”

“let it all out, baby,” you coo, hand running over his shoulder. he giggles again, nodding, happy and delirious.

he’s so sweet, your boy.

[myseungsunglove]

COMING SOON!

Don’t Mess with a Good Thing

Pairing: Jisung x Reader

Warnings: All the fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You’ve loved your best friend Han Jisung for as long as you can remember. Really there has only ever been him and he has only ever wanted you, but neither of you have ever owned up to it. Until one morning when everything changes.

A/N: I adapted this fic from many years ago when I used to write very regularly. Hope it works okay and that you enjoy it as much as I do. This one was so much fun to work on! Of course there are some added dynamics, as you function as an added 9th member of Stray Kids.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

Feedback Welcome

「© July 2023 by mysweethannie」

[skzophreniic]

⍣ ೋ cw: explicit sexual content, neighbors to lovers, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), reader first orgasm, soft dom Han Jisung, emotional vulnerability, praise kink, mention of toxic relationship, slight exhibitionism (thin walls), slight degradation of ex-boyfriend, aftercare, fluff, soft angst (parental neglect), mdni

notes: in which han jisung hears you faking your orgasms through the walls of your apartment--and things spiral from there.

The walls in this building are a joke.

Half an inch of drywall. That’s all that separates his shitty one-bedroom from yours. He’s counted.

It’s not like he meant to know so much about you. He’s not trying to eavesdrop on every late-night argument, every hungover FaceTime call, every time you drag your heavy Econ textbook across the floor.

He just lives here.

And unfortunately, so do you.

Jisung never asked for the proximity. He never asked to know the way your voice rises when you're tipsy or how you only sing when you thinks no one can hear. But he does. He knows. He knows you eat too many frozen waffles and tha tyour microwave beeps twice before you remember to take shit out. He knows the name of your boyfriend, the sound of your laugh when you’re trying too hard, and worse—

The exact pitch of your moans when you’re faking it.

Because you fake it. Every damn time.

And he would know. He’s had the misfortune of being hard at 2AM with your paper-thin walls pressed against his back and that sorry excuse for sex filtering through his second-hand studio monitors like a mockery of porn.

It’s always the same: breathy gasps, your boyfriend’s awkward grunting, the bed springs squeaking like hell, and then—

“Oh my god, yeah, just like that...”

Flat. Perfunctory. The kind of moan that sounds practiced. Rehearsed. Completely unconvincing.

Jisung rolls his eyes and turns the volume up on his mix.

Not because it bothers him. Not because he cares.

It’s just distracting.

He’s got better things to do than think about the pretty girl next door faking orgasms like it’s a part-time job.

Like finish this track. Like land an actual gig. Like figure out how the fuck he’s going to keep affording rent in a city that eats people alive and doesn’t even burp after.

He’s not interested.

He’s not.

Except—

Sometimes he wonders what it would sound like if you meant it.

What you’d sound like if someone took their time. If someone made you come for real, dragged it out of your with fingers in your hair and lips on your neck and the kind of steady, brutal rhythm that doesn’t stop until you’re shaking.

What you’d sound like if it were him.

Jisung curses under his breath and drags his headphones off.

His eyes are dry. His dick’s half-hard. His track’s going nowhere.

Cool.

Maybe he just needs to… do something. Anything. Something mundane. Something that reminds him he’s a functioning adult with a trash bin and a spine and better things to focus on than the soft moans of the girl next door and the way they don’t sound quite right.

He grabs the overstuffed trash bag by the door, ties it with too much force, and makes a beeline for the hallway before he can talk himself out of it.

The fluorescent lights hum. The elevator’s broken again. Everything smells vaguely like burnt toast and someone’s fruity shampoo.

This building is hell.

He loves it.

Jisung drops the bag down the chute, lingers a second too long just to feel the rush of cold air against his face, then heads back.

He’s barely two doors away from home when he sees you.

You’re standing outside your apartment, arms crossed over your chest, loose sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder like it’s been a long night. Your boyfriend—Jason? Jared? Justin?—is leaning in too close, his mouth moving fast. Jisung can’t make out the words, but the tone’s familiar. Sharp. Defensive.

The boyfriend tries to kiss you.

You turn your face away.

Jisung doesn’t mean to stop walking. His feet just… do.

“I said I’m tired,” you mutter.

“Oh, you’re tired?” the guy snaps, way too loud for this dingy little hallway. “You weren’t tired twenty minutes ago when you were riding my dick, were you?”

Jesus.

Jisung should keep walking. Should disappear into his apartment and mind his business like he always does.

But instead, he just—

“Hey.”

His voice comes out cracked around the edges, like it hasn’t been used in a while. Which is accurate. He hasn’t really spoken to anyone in three days. Not unless you count the talking he does into the mic when he’s laying down verses at 3AM.

You both turn to look at him.

Jisung tries to smile.

It’s more of a grimace.

“You, uh…” he clears his throat, glancing at you instead of the walking ego next to you. “You okay?”

You hesitate.

The boyfriend doesn’t.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Jisung shoves his hands deeper into his hoodie pocket. “Neighbor.”

The guy blinks, then laughs. “Oh. So you’re the one blasting that emo SoundCloud shit through the wall every night?”

Jisung winces. A breath stutters out of him like he’s been lightly slapped.

Then he notices it—you wince, too. The tiniest flicker of guilt flashing across your face, so fast he almost misses it.

And yeah. Okay.

That stings more than it should.

“I didn’t say it was shit,”you mumble under your breath, clearly meant only for your own conscience.

“Don’t worry,” Jisung says quickly, forcing a light tone as he scratches the back of his neck. “It’s fine. Totally fair. Some of my stuff is… uh. Kinda dogshit.”

The boyfriend grins like he’s just won something.

“Glad we agree. Thought I was gonna have to explain how sound works to a wannabe DJ.”

Jisung opens his mouth—then closes it again.

Not worth it.

Definitely not worth it.

Except you’re still looking at him. Still standing there with your arms folded tight, sweatshirt slipping down further. And your face—

There’s something in it. Not pity. Not sympathy.

More like… regret.

He hates that it softens him.

The boyfriend, oblivious, barrels on. “Anyway, next time you feel like giving a concert at four in the morning, maybe wait until someone asks.”

“Next time you feel like giving headboard percussion lessons at two,” Jisung mutters, “maybe make sure she actually comes.”

The words leave his mouth before his brain catches up.

Instant silence.

You gasp. Cover it with your hand, like you’re trying not to laugh—or scream.

The boyfriend just stares at him.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Jisung shrugs, already stepping toward his apartment door. His hands are shaking a little, but he keeps his voice light.

“I mean, the moaning’s impressive. Real Oscar-worthy shit. But you’d think a guy who talks that much would at least know when he’s not doing it right.”

“You little—”

“Hey, man.” Jisung turns back for half a second, nodding at him with a crooked, tired smile. “If I can tell through the wall that she’s faking it, that’s not on her. That’s on you.”

He shuts the door behind him before the guy can even finish winding up his insult.

Click.

Deadbolt.

Silence.

Except for the thundering in his chest.

Jisung exhales hard, forehead thunking against the door. “What the fuck did I just do?”

He sinks down to the floor like his legs have given up. Which, to be fair, they kind of have.

This isn’t him. This isn’t what he does.

He doesn't talk back. Doesn’t mouth off. Doesn’t insert himself into other people’s messy lives—especially not yours. He barely speaks to delivery guys. Half his social life happens through a pop filter.

And yet.

“You’d think a guy who talks that much would at least know when he’s not doing it right.”

God. It was kind of funny.

But still—Jesus.

Jisung scrubs both hands over his face, embarrassment curling in his gut like a hangover.

Across the wall, he hears footsteps. Muffled shouting. The boyfriend’s voice, sharp with wounded ego. And then—

The unmistakable slam of a door.

Silence.

No more voices. No more fake moans. No more anything.

Jisung doesn’t move.

Eventually, when the silence stays long enough to feel safe, he hauls himself up off the floor. Brushes dust from his sweats. Tries not to replay what he said out loud like a greatest hits compilation of shit he absolutely should not have said out loud.

____________________________________________________________________________

He sleeps like shit.

Of course he does.

And when morning comes, it hits in a wave of cheap sunlight and neighborly noise.

He hears your usual routine unfold with near-perfect familiarity: fridge door opening, kettle clicking on, cabinet slam (twice—you always forget which one holds the instant coffee). Muffled cursing. Zipper. Then keys jingling against the lock.

He listens as you step out, lets the door fall shut behind you, and walks down the hall toward the stairs.

Everything is the same.

And none of it is.

Because this time, when you leave,your footsteps pause right outside his door.

Just for a second. A breath.

Then gone.

He groans and pulls the blanket over his face.

The rest of the day moves in its usual haze. Jisung does what he always does: noodles with a half-finished beat, eats instant ramen over the sink, ignores three texts from Chan asking for an update on the mix. His headphones stay around his neck most of the day, never quite getting used.

By sunset, the hallway is quiet again.

The beat he’s working on is shit. He knows it’s shit. He keeps tweaking it anyway.

It’s not even music anymore. Just sound. A bunch of clunky, disjointed loops that won’t glue together no matter how many times he messes with the tempo.

He’s just about to scrap the whole thing when—

Knock knock.

He freezes.

It’s soft. Measured. Hesitant.

He doesn't move right away—just sits there in his desk chair like someone just rang the doorbell in a horror movie. Then he leans back slightly, just far enough to peek over the edge of his laptop.

Another knock.

His heart does something stupid.

He stands. Pads barefoot to the door. Checks the peephole.

Of course it’s you.

You’re standing there in leggings and an oversized hoodie, arms cradling a plastic container like its armor. Your hair's pulled back, face bare. You look—

Small.

Unsure.

You lift one hand and knock again, even softer this time.

He hesitates a second longer, then opens the door.

Not all the way. Just a crack.

Your head jerks up. You blink. “Hi.”

He blinks back. “Uh. Hey.”

You shift your weight. “Can I—uh, are you busy?”

He opens the door a little wider, eyes flicking down to the container you’re holding. “No. I mean. Just… failing at music.”

That gets the faintest smile out of you.

“Right. Yeah. I, um…” You hold out the container. “These are for you.”

He stares. “Cookies?”

“Apology cookies.”

There’s a beat.

Then:

“I didn’t bake them,” You admit. “But I did walk two blocks to the overpriced organic place to get them. So. Effort was made.”

He blinks down at the container again, like it might disappear if he stares hard enough.

“Effort noted,” he mumbles.

You shift again, hugging your arms tighter. “You don’t have to eat them. I just—felt weird not saying thank you. Or sorry. You didn’t have to do what you did last night.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. Felt weird not saying something. So.”

You stand there in the doorway for a second, both of you clearly unsure of what to do now that the thing you came to say has been said. He should probably invite you in. Or take the cookies. Or smile, or make a joke, or something.

Instead, he clears his throat.

You jump in to fill the silence. “Also, just so we’re clear—I didn’t actually mean the SoundCloud thing. That was… low-hanging fruit.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So you’ve listened?”

That earns him a flush, bright and instant. “Not on purpose.”

“Wow.” He presses a hand to his chest. “What a glowing endorsement.”

“I’m just saying—I wasn’t trying to be a bitch. That wasn’t fair.” Your gaze softens. “Your stuff is good. Better than good, actually. The one with the—uh—strings and that lo-fi beat underneath?”

His eyebrows raise. “Track twelve?”

She nods.

His stomach flips. It’s ridiculous. But that track had been sitting unfinished for weeks, like something he wasn’t sure anyone but him would ever care about. And now she’s standing here—face bare, voice quiet—quoting it back to him like it meant something.

He doesn’t know what to say.

For someone who spends hours arranging syllables and syncopation for fun, it’s laughable how words immediately bail on him when they might actually matter.

“You, uh…” He shifts the container to one hand. “You’ve got a good ear.”

You smile. It’s small. A little sheepish. “I’ve got shit walls.”

That makes him laugh—quiet and surprised.

“I should let you hear more sometime,” he says, before he can talk himself out of it.

You tilt your head. “Yeah?”

“I mean—only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought…”

He trails off, scratching at the seam of his sleeve.

“I’d like that,” You say.

And he doesn’t know what to do with the warmth that blooms in his chest. It’s not huge. It’s not loud. But it’s there—steady and unexpected, curling under his ribs.

“Cool,” he says, voice softer now. “I’ll, uh. Let you know next time I make something new.”

You nod, then shift your weight backward—just enough to start retreating. But not before your eyes flick to his again, briefly, like you want to say something else.

He thinks might.

But all you do is smile—small and real—and take one step back towards your door.

“Goodnight, Han.”

His name on your lips feels like something it shouldn’t. Like a secret.

He nods. “Night.”

And then you turn. Cross the narrow hallway back to your apartment, keys already in hand. you hesitate at the door for half a second—he notices that, because of course he notices that—then slides the key in, disappears inside, and lets the door fall shut behind you with a soft click.

He watches the empty hallway for a beat longer.

He stares at his own door for a moment after he closes it, forehead pressed against the wood like the words you left behind are still floating in the air.

Goodnight, Han.

He hadn’t realized how nice his name could sound until you said it like that.

It echoes in his chest. Warms something that’s been cold for a while.

When he finally moves, it’s slow. He sets the cookies on the kitchen counter, grabs a pen, and flips open the nearest notebook—one he’s barely touched in weeks.

And he writes:

Track idea: starts quiet. Voice sample, maybe hers? Lo-fi beat behind it, soft keys. Let it build. Don’t let it rush. Let it breathe.

He underlines let it breathe three times.

Then he puts his headphones on.

And for the first time in a long time—

The music comes easy.

______________________________________________________________

You never planned on being friends with Han.

The boy next door with the quiet mouth and loud headphones. The recluse who only seemed to exist in studio beats and half-heard melodies through the wall. You knew his name before you knew his face—Han, printed on a mailbox slot too narrow.

Now he nods at you in the hallway. Smiles, even. You’ve learned that they’re rare, his smiles—crooked and shy, like they’re still trying to figure themselves out. You’ve started waiting for them.

Some mornings, you catch him in the elevator, hoodie pulled over messy hair, a takeout coffee in one hand and sleep in his eyes. You say hi. He says hey. He always holds the door for you.

It’s nothing. But it’s not nothing.

And then, one night—it’s something.

It starts with your friend’s voice, high and nervous. “I swear I had your keys. I swear they were just—fuck, okay, check your bag again—”

You’re too drunk to care. Or think. Or stand up straight

Your bag is wide open on the hallway floor, a war zone of receipts, gum wrappers, lip glosses with no caps, and an unopened pack of hot sauce packets you swear you didn’t steal from Taco Bell. Your friend is crouched beside it, frantically digging like she’s searching for buried treasure.

And that’s when the elevator dings.

You don’t even bother turning around. You’re too busy trying to balance one heel on top of a rogue pack of gum like it’s a tightrope.

Your friend, however, freezes. Then straightens sharply, whisper-hissing, “Oh shit—it’s your neighbor.”

You blink. “Which one?”

“The hot one.”

That gets your attention.

You turn—wobble—and there he is: Han. Grocery bag in one hand, hood halfway off, hair a little windblown. His eyes flick from your friend to you, then to the scene at your feet: your life in full chaotic display.

He pauses. Then says, with the softest little blink of disbelief,

“Uh… everything okay?”

You blink right back at him.

Then lean toward your friend—not subtly, not gracefully, and definitely not quietly—and whisper at full volume:

“You’re right, he is hot.”

It echoes.

Down the hall. Into the vents. Probably into the next dimension.

Your friend claps a hand over her mouth.

Han stares at you, frozen mid-step, grocery bag dangling like it no longer belongs to him.

You sway slightly. Flash him a winning, drunken grin. “Hi.”

His ears go pink.

He recovers with a cough and a quiet, “Hey.”

Your friend steps in, trying to salvage the moment. “She, um… lost her keys. And maybe her filter. And maybe also her last three brain cells.”

“I have at least five brain cells,” you argue, eyes still locked on Han like you’ve just spotted the last bottle of tequila on Earth. “Maybe six.”

“Okay,” your friend says sharply, grabbing your arm before you can say anything worse. “She’s drunk. She needs to sleep. You’re right next door. I trust you, I think. Will you—can you—?”

“I’ve got her,” Han says, voice gentle. Too gentle. Like he’s trying not to laugh but also trying not to die of second-hand embaressment.

He steps forward, freeing his hand long enough to steady you when you stumble again. His grip is warm, careful. You immediately lean into it like he’s a weighted blanket.

“Wow,” you murmur. “Strong and polite. A dangerous combo.”

He just smiles—shy and crooked, the way he always does when he doesn’t know where to put his face. “You good to walk?”

“No promises.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘maybe,’” he says, easing your arm over his shoulder.

Your friend sighs, already backing toward the stairs. “If she tries to seduce you, just tell her she cries at Disney movies and once got drunk and tried to fistfight a traffic cone.”

“I won, though,” you shout after her.

Han chuckles.

Your friend throws one last suspicious look over her shoulder, mouthing to Han, text me from her phone if she throws up, before disappearing down the stairwell.

And now it’s just you and Han.

And the heat of your skin pressed to his side.

And the wild, buzzing thought in your brain that you’ve never been this close to him before.

He shifts his weight. Glances down at you.

“You seriously okay?”

You nod. “I feel great.”

“You say that while using me as a crutch.”

“Yeah. But like—a sexy crutch.”

He laughs, head ducking slightly like he’s embarrassed for both of you.

But he doesn’t let go.

And he doesn’t stop smiling.

Han’s arm stays steady around you as he unlocks his door, grocery bag still dangling awkwardly from one wrist. He guides you inside carefully, flicking on the lights with his elbow and nudging the door shut behind you.

You blink, taking it in through a haze: tiny apartment, warm lighting, a bunch of wires and gear by the desk, no couch in sight.

He catches you swaying and steers you toward a plain padded chair by the wall. “Here, sit for a sec.”

You plop down like a ragdoll.

Han crouches in front of you instantly, gently tugging your heels off one at a time like he’s afraid you’ll tip over trying. “You good?” he murmurs, setting your shoes aside neatly. “Anything feel weird? Dizzy?”

You grin at him. “You’re so worried.”

He flushes instantly. “I just—yeah. I mean. You’re really drunk.”

“Yeah, but like, in a fun way.”

“Still,” he mutters, already handing you a bottle of water from the counter. “Drink this. Slowly.”

You take it. “You’re like a… a boyfriend. But like, a really responsible one. Like—tax-paying, call-my-mom-for-me energy.”

Han snorts and gets up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, you’re done talking now.”

“I’m not!” you call after him as he sets the grocery bag down. “I’m very interesting!”

He just shakes his head, trying (and failing) to hide his smile.

When you blink again, he’s in front of you, holding out a hand. “C’mon. Bed’s this way.”

You pause. “You only have one bed.”

His ears go pink. “You can take it.”

You squint. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

He shrugs, awkward. “Floor. I’ve got blankets.”

“That’s tragic.”

“I’ve survived worse.”

You pout but don’t argue as he pulls you gently to your feet again. You’re warm, wobbly, still clutching the water bottle like a security blanket, and when he steers you toward the bed, you barely resist at all.

He helps you sit, then hands you a second pillow and adjusts the blanket like he’s not trying to combust over how soft you look there. He’s halfway to standing up again when you tug the edge of the blanket higher and murmur:

“Thanks, Han.”

He’s still standing near the edge of the bed, half in the dark, blinking at you like you’ve just short-circuited every single brain cell in his head.

His voice is a little uneven when he says, “Y-Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

You smile at him, all cozy and soft, limbs draped across his sheets like you belong there.

He doesn’t even know where to put his hands.

“I, uh—” He scratches at the back of his neck. “I still have a bit of work to do. Just mixing something. I’ll, um. Be over here.”

You blink up at him. “What kinda work?”

“Music stuff.” His voice cracks a little, and he clears his throat immediately. “I won’t bother you. You can—yeah, you can just pass out. All good.”

“You don’t mind me on your bed?”

Han stares at you for a second too long.

Then jerks his gaze away. “No. I—I mean. No, definitely not. Like, at all.”

He fumbles over to his desk, nearly knocking over a pair of headphones, and drops into the chair like his legs have forgotten how to bend properly.

You snuggle deeper into the mattress, dragging the blanket over your legs with a dramatic sigh. “This is comfy. You have good taste in sheets.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, clicking around on his laptop even though the track’s already loaded. 

You giggle.

He pretends not to notice.

You don’t see it—but his eyes flick to you constantly. Quick little glances when you shift, or sigh, or tuck your face into the pillow like it’s your new favorite thing. He can’t not look.

You yawn, cheek squished into his pillow. “You smell nice.”

He makes a sound that’s somewhere between a cough and a quiet plea for mercy. “You should, uh. Try to sleep.”

“Mhm.”

You don’t move.

Just keep lying there. All sweet and sleepy and tangled up in his blankets, on his bed, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And even though he should be focusing—he really, really should—

Han can’t stop smiling.

He turns back to his screen and presses play, the familiar beat fills his headphones, looping low and steady.

It’s not done—not even close. The layers are uneven, the bass too soft, the melody still fighting to find its place. But it’s something. And tonight, it’s the only thing keeping his hands busy while his mind refuses to stop thinking about you in his bed.

You’re quiet for a while.

He thinks maybe you’ve finally fallen asleep. You haven’t said anything in minutes, and your breathing’s slow, almost even. He lets himself glance over his shoulder.

You’re still awake.

Eyes open. Watching him.

You shift slightly under the blanket, cheek still pressed into his pillow. Your voice is soft, drowsy. “Can I hear it?”

He blinks. “What?”

“The track you’re working on,” you murmur. “Can I listen?”

Han’s heart does a somersault. Or maybe a backflip. Hard to tell through the static in his chest.

He turns fully in his chair. “Now?”

You nod, slow and lazy. “You promised. You said I could listen next time you made something new.”

Right. He had said that.

But not this one.

Not track twelve.

He fidgets with the headphone wire. “It’s not that one.”

You blink at him, confused.

“The one with the lo-fi strings,” he explains, voice quieter now. “Track twelve. I still haven’t finished it.”

“Oh.”

You don’t sound disappointed. Just curious.

He rubs a hand over his face, then offers a crooked little smile. “But you can hear this one. If you want.”

You nod again, eyes fluttering half-shut like the night is finally catching up to you.

He hesitates.

Then gently unplugs the headphones from the jack, letting the soft sound of the track fill the room.

It’s quiet. Dreamy. Bare bones but beautiful—slow, pulsing synth layered under a simple piano loop. There’s a vocal sample buried under the mix, something wordless and airy, like a breath that never ends.

You close your eyes fully this time, listening.

And Han watches you—watches the way your body relaxes into the sound, how your lips part just slightly, like the music is pulling something from you even in sleep.

He turns back to the screen, fingers hovering over the trackpad.

You speak again, barely above a whisper.

“It’s sad,” you murmur.

He doesn’t answer.

“Not in a bad way,” you add quickly. “Just… it sounds like it’s missing something. Like it’s looking for something.”

Han swallows.

Yeah.

That’s exactly what it is.

He stares at the waveform on his screen and says, very softly, “I think it’s trying to say something I don’t know how to say yet.”

You don’t reply. Not right away.

When you do, your voice is already trailing off into sleep. “You don’t have to say it. It’s already in the music.”

And then you're still.

Breathing even. Eyes shut.

Han doesn’t move for a long time.

Just sits in the soft blue glow of his screen, heartbeat slowing down to match yours, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to finish a song when the thing it’s missing is falling asleep five feet away.

______________________________________________________________

It’s been months since that first night.

Since the couchless sleepover, since the drunken key fiasco, since you fell asleep to the sound of his unfinished song.

And in that time, Han has come out of his shell in the slowest, sweetest way possible.

At first, he was shy. Still the hoodie-wearing recluse with his eyes glued to Ableton and his words tucked somewhere behind clenched teeth.

But then he started showing up more. At your door with takeout. With headphones and half-finished demos. With quiet, tentative smiles that stretched wider the more you smiled back.

You got to know him.

He told you about Malaysia—about sticky summers and midnight noodles and the way his parents still call twice a week even though they’re oceans apart. He told you how he moved to Korea for college, studied for a year, and then dropped out when he realized his brain was wired for sound, not textbooks.

You told him about your life, too—your parents and their ever-shifting conditions for love, the apartment they still pay for, the degree you’re grinding out just to prove something. To who, you’re not even sure.

And Han—turns out he’s kind of a chatterbox. Once he’s comfortable, the boy talks. About anything. About everything. With his hands, with his whole face. About samples and synths and the absolute travesty that is powdered parmesan.

Now, it’s like this: casual, constant, inevitable.

You crash at his place sometimes—not because you're locked out, but just because. Sometimes you bring your laptop and do homework on his floor. Sometimes you nap in his bed while he works. You keep a toothbrush there now. A hoodie of his has quietly migrated to your closet.

You even invited him to your graduation this spring. “It’s not like my parents are coming,” you’d shrugged, and Han had just blinked at you, then said okay, like it wasn’t the biggest fucking deal.

He still blushes when you call him hot. Still won’t take the bed when you stay over. Still treats you like you might disappear if he lets himself want too much.

And today, you’re at your place—your couch this time, legs tangled together on either end, killing time the way only two people who are too comfortable with each other can.

Lazy game of truth or dare. No real stakes. Just soft laughter and shared snacks and the kind of questions that teeter between teasing and tender.

Han’s fingers are brushing against your ankle, casual and unthinking. The popcorn bowl is somewhere on the floor, long forgotten. You’re both half-reclined, cozy and loose, a tangle of limbs and friendship that’s been threatening to become something else for weeks now.

You’ve already dared him to do his worst celebrity impression, and he’d made you sing a jingle from one of your old childhood commercials. The kind of dumb, lazy game that only works when you trust someone enough not to twist the blade when things get close.

Now it’s his turn.

“Truth,” you say, yawning, stretching like a cat in the sun. “I’m feeling vulnerable.”

He gives you a look. One brow raised, fingers tapping thoughtfully against his thigh. “Okay. What was your best orgasm?”

You blink.

Then laugh.

He flushes instantly. “Shit—was that too far? I thought we were in the spicy round.”

“No, no,” you say, waving a hand, trying to keep your smile light. “It’s fair.”

But you don’t answer right away.

You sit there for a second, fiddling with the hem of your oversized sleep shirt. His question settles somewhere low in your stomach—not uncomfortable, just… exposed. Like a truth you’ve learned to laugh off before anyone can look too closely.

You glance at him, then say it—half-teasing, like a joke you’ve told a few times before.

“I wouldn’t know.”

Han blinks. “You wouldn’t—?”

You shrug. “Never had one. Not a good one. Not any, actually.”

There’s a pause. His brows lift, lips parting slightly, but you beat him to it with a raised hand and a crooked grin.

“I know, I know. Tragic. I’m either defective or cursed. It’s a toss-up.”

He doesn’t laugh.

You thought he might—just to lighten the mood. Maybe roll with the joke, keep it casual.

But Han’s expression softens instead. Slowly. Like he’s putting something together.

But Han’s expression softens instead. Slowly. Like he’s putting something together.

“That’s not funny,” he says, voice quiet. Barely a wrinkle of sound between you.

You blink. “It’s kind of funny.”

“No, it’s not.” He leans in a little, eyes searching yours. “And it’s definitely not true.”

You hold his gaze for a beat longer than you mean to. “Tell that to every guy I’ve slept with.”

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t flinch. Just says, soft but certain, “They don’t count.”

Something in your chest pulls tight.

You sit back, let out a soft exhale through your nose. Try again, lighter this time. “I mean, at some point, you start to wonder if it’s just you, right? Like maybe I missed a biological memo.”

“You didn’t,” he says, firm now. “You just haven’t been with someone who cared enough to figure you out.”

You snort softly, eyes dropping to his lips before flicking back up. “What, and you do?”

His breath catches, just slightly. But he doesn’t flinch.

“Yeah,” he says. Simple. Sure. “I do.”

You go quiet.

It’s not the answer that surprises you—it’s how steady he is when he says it. Like it’s not even a question in his mind. Like he’s already imagined it, already decided what he’d do if you ever let him.

That steadiness makes your throat go tight.

“Okay,” you say, voice quiet. “Then what would you do?”

Han shifts slightly, eyes locked on yours, his expression unreadable. Focused.

“I’d start slow,” he says, and it doesn’t sound like a line—it sounds like a plan. “Let you get used to being touched in a way that’s not… performative.”

You blink.

He leans in, just a little. Not close enough to touch. Not yet.

“I’d watch your face,” he continues, softer now, “and actually pay attention. I’d figure out what makes you squirm. What makes your breath catch. What makes you ask for more.”

Your pulse thrums at your throat, hot and sharp.

“I’d talk to you,” he murmurs. “Tell you what I’m doing. Tell you how fucking good you look while I’m doing it. Make sure you know every second that it’s about you.”

Your pulse thrums at your throat, hot and sharp.

You don’t say anything. You can’t.

Because Han is looking at you like he already has you spread out in his mind. Like he’s memorizing every microreaction, storing them away like he might need them later. Like he’s already tasting the sound you’ll make when he finally breaks you open.

Your voice comes out low. Barely there.

“That’s a lot of attention for one orgasm.”

Han’s mouth twitches. Not a smile. Not quite yet.

“I’m not aiming for one.”

You feel it in your chest—in your spine—the way his voice sinks into you. Low. Purposeful. Like he’s already in your skin, like the words themselves are a touch.

You can’t breathe.

He’s so close now, and still—still—not touching you. He could. He should. Your body is already leaning into the heat of him, legs still curled beneath you, the hem of your sleep shirt brushing high on your thighs. But he doesn’t move.

“Have you… done this before?”

He blinks. “Made someone come?”

You nod, quick, almost shy.

“Yeah.” His mouth lifts at one corner. “Why?”

You hesitate, eyes flicking over his face. “I… thought you were a virgin.”

Han blinks. Then he laughs—a soft, breathy thing that curls low in his throat.

“Wow,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks already going red. “That’s, uh… new.”

You’re not teasing anymore. Not really. Not with the way your eyes keep flicking over him—his mouth, his hands, the pink creeping up the slope of his neck. Not with how you’re sitting up straighter, how your thighs squeeze just slightly together without meaning to.

He notices.

And it flusters him, of course it does—he’s Han, after all. All nervous energy and soft-spoken charm. But there’s something else underneath it too. Something steady. Something you didn’t see before.

“You really think I’ve spent this much time listening to you fake it through the walls and didn’t fantasize about doing it better?”

Your breath catches. Hard.

His gaze doesn’t drop. Doesn’t falter.

And suddenly, you’re seeing him for what he is—really seeing him.

The slightly older boy next door. The dropout with big hands and bigger dreams. The quiet music producer who hides behind humor but notices everything. The same Han who always opened his door, always gave you the bed, always walked on the street side of the sidewalk—but now you realize he’s been wanting you the whole time.

And you missed it.

You look at him now—and you feel it.

The shift.

Because he’s still Han. Still hoodie-clad and sweet and overly cautious.

But he’s also a man.

And god, it’s hitting you all at once.

The way his eyes haven’t left your mouth. The way he says things like I’m not aiming for one with such quiet, devastating confidence. The way he can be so careful with you and still make your skin burn like he’s already touched you everywhere.

You swallow hard.

“So,” you murmur, voice dipping low, “you’ve done this before.”

His fingers twitch where they rest against his thigh. “Yeah.”

“How many girls?”

He blushes harder at that. Clears his throat. “I mean, not a lot.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I’m not—” he fumbles, flustered now, voice high-pitched with embarrassment, “—like, I’m not some sex god, okay?”

You giggle. Can’t help it.

He glares, weakly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You lean in. Let your voice soften. “Like what?”

He shifts under your gaze, eyes flicking down again before returning to yours. “Like you’re surprised.”

“I am,” you whisper.

And you are.

Surprised by the heat in your belly. Surprised by the tension in his jaw, the way he’s not looking away now. Surprised by the fact that the Han you thought you knew—the one who panicked over burnt rice and once apologized to a houseplant—is sitting in front of you, cheeks flushed, voice low, practically thrumming with restraint.

And the restraint is unraveling. You can see it. You can feel it.

His hand is still resting on his thigh. Tense. Useless.

You want it on you.

He must know, must feel the shift in the air, because he breathes out through his nose—shaky, controlled—and finally moves.

Not to kiss you.

Not yet.

Just slides closer, knees brushing yours. Hands braced on either side of your thighs like he’s holding himself back from climbing into your lap. Like if he gets too close, he won’t be able to stop.

His voice is soft when it comes. Careful.

“I don’t wanna mess this up.”

You blink. “What?”

“This,” he says, eyes darting between yours. “You. Us.”

Your heart kicks.

“I’m serious,” he adds. “If you want me to stop, I will. Even if I’ve already started. Even if you change your mind in the middle. I need you to know that.”

You just look at him.

At his flushed cheeks, his trembling fingers gripping the couch cushion, the way his eyes won’t stay still—darting to your mouth, your thighs, your eyes again.

You don’t know how to say what’s clawing up your throat. Don’t know how to explain that you’ve never felt like this. Like you could fall apart and not have to put yourself back together alone.

So instead, you reach for him.

You thread your fingers through his, bring his hand to your thigh—bare skin under the edge of your sleep shirt—and press it there, warm and waiting.

His breath stutters.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His breath stutters.

That’s all it takes.

His fingers flex against your thigh—just a twitch, nothing urgent. But the heat of them sinks in deep. You can feel how careful he’s being, how tightly he’s holding the leash on himself, like he doesn’t trust what’ll happen if he moves too fast.

You tilt your hips slightly. Just enough.

He moves.

Slides his hand higher, beneath the hem of your sleep shirt. Knuckles grazing soft skin, the inside of your thigh, and you’re already trembling. The anticipation is thick—so much thicker than anything that’s come before it. Your body’s aching and he hasn’t even touched you where you need it yet.

Han breathes out slowly. You can hear the effort it takes not to rush.

His fingers reach your panties.

They’re soaked. Clinging to you. And he makes a sound in the back of his throat when he feels it—somewhere between a sigh and a groan, like it’s hurting him, how wet you already are.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers.

“I’m trying not to.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, and leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth. “You can just let me take care of it.”

And you do.

You sink into the cushions and let his hand keep climbing. Let it trail over skin that’s already too hot, too tight, too aware. The hem of your shirt rides up over your hips as he moves, exposing soft skin and damp fabric.

He touches you through your panties first. Just a single stroke—up and down, slow, deliberate.

You jolt.

Your thighs twitch. Your hips tilt into his hand before you even mean to.

His fingers are steady. Gentle. No fumbling, no testing limits just to say he did. He strokes over the soaked cotton with maddening patience, slow enough that your body’s buzzing before he even slides them aside.

He strokes over the soaked cotton with maddening patience, slow enough that your body’s buzzing before he even slides them aside.

When he does, it’s with a breathless little sound—almost like awe.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice low and tight. “You’re so wet already.”

You shiver.

He doesn’t ask permission again. He doesn’t need to. Your legs fall open on instinct, your body already offering itself up like it’s been waiting for this. For him.

He dips his fingers into you with quiet care—just the first two, slow and unhurried, and it’s so much. Not just the stretch, not just the slick slide of it—it’s the way he groans like he can feel how good you feel around him. Like your body is turning him on just by existing.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “How has no one made you cum?”

You whimper.

“Seriously,” he says, fingers curling slightly inside you, rubbing against that spot that makes your toes curl. “You’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Wet and warm and just—fuck, baby.”

Your hips jolt when he says it—baby—and he notices. His mouth quirks.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, watching your face like it’s giving him instructions. “You like that. Being talked to while I fuck you with my fingers?”

You moan—helpless, high-pitched—and your hand shoots down to grab his wrist.

He stills immediately. “Too much?”

You shake your head. Or maybe you nod. You don’t even know anymore—your brain’s barely holding on, your body dragging you under, soaking up everything he gives like it’s the first drop of water in a drought.

He watches your reaction like it’s gospel. Like every twitch and gasp is holy.

“Thought so,” he says, and starts to move again—slow, controlled pumps of his fingers, careful not to lose that rhythm now that he’s found what works. The way your walls clench when he curls. The way your hips chase him when he retreats. The way your breath hitches when his palm drags across your clit just a little too hard.

And god, he uses it all.

“Fuck,” he mutters, eyes glued to where he’s working you open. “If this pussy was mine, I wouldn’t be able to leave you alone.”

You gasp.

“I’d keep you like this every night,” he says, voice thick now. “Stuffed, dripping, begging for it. Just like this.”

You keen, head falling back against the cushions, thighs straining around his wrist. Another twist of his fingers, another filthy curl, and you’re spiraling again—clenching, grinding, chasing something you’ve never actually caught before.

But it’s still not enough.

Close, so close. You can feel it in your gut, in the burn behind your eyes, in the way your whole body draws tight like a wire about to snap. But then it slips, slithers away like it always does, leaving you aching and wrung out and panting like you’ve been running in circles.

Han doesn’t stop.

He slows, sure. Eases off that pressure like he knows—like he felt the way you were peaking and watched it fall apart all over again.

Your breath stutters. Your hands tremble where they’re gripping the couch cushions. Your whole body shakes with the frustration of it.

Han looks fucking thrilled.

“Shit,” he whispers, eyes glued to the slick mess between your legs. “You’re gonna be a fucking problem, huh?

You whimper—shaky, half-desperate—and try to pull your legs closed, but his free hand slides up your thigh and keeps them open. He’s still panting, still hard in his sweats, and yet somehow entirely focused on you.

Your voice comes out broken. “I can’t—fuck, Han, I was so close—”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. His fingers finally slip free, soaked and shining, and he brings them to his mouth like it’s nothing. Like tasting you is just a thing he does between breaths. “You’re so fucking pretty can’t believe no one’s ever made you come.”

He sucks one finger between his lips, humming low in his throat, and your entire body jerks.

He grins around his knuckle. Blushy. Sweet. Still Han, somehow—except his eyes are dark now, slow-burning, locked onto you with intent.

And when he speaks, it’s not teasing. It’s reverent.

“I knew you’d taste good,” he murmurs, dragging his hand down your thigh again. “Didn’t think you’d ruin me this fast, though.”

You squirm, still reeling from the touch of his fingers, still aching from how close you came—how it slipped just out of reach. Your panties are somewhere around your knees now, tangled and damp, and your thighs are trembling despite the warmth of the room.

But Han doesn’t give you time to settle.

He drops back down between your legs like it’s instinct.

Like he belongs there.

You brace for it—his mouth, his tongue—but nothing prepares you for how intentional it is.

Because when he licks you, it’s not just lust. It’s devotion.

The first press of his tongue is slow, hot, drawn out like he’s tasting something forbidden. It drags through your folds, slick and maddening, before he pulls back just slightly and exhales a shaky breath against your cunt like it’s worship.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “You’re so fucking sweet. So wet—dripping for me, baby.”

Your hips jerk. A soft moan tears from your throat, helpless and startled.

He hums at the sound. And then his tongue is on you again—lapping, curling, sliding in lazy circles around your clit, not rushed, not rough. Patient.

But it’s overwhelming.

Too much and somehow still not enough.

You gasp, spine arching. Your thighs twitch against his shoulders again and he presses his hands there—holding you open, keeping you still. His grip is firm, grounding. Gentle only in contrast to the way he eats you.

He groans low when your hips roll, when your slick coats his lips and chin. Like it turns him on more than anything else. Like this is the part he needs.

He devours you like he’s starved for it.

Like he’s been thinking about this—you—for longer than he’s willing to admit. Tongue slow but deliberate, savoring every stroke, every gasp you give him. He doesn’t speak now, doesn’t need to. The sounds alone—your moans, the wet suck of his mouth, the way your breath stutters every time he flattens his tongue against your clit—say enough.

But it’s your reactions that do it. The way your body jumps every time he moves just right. The way your hands scramble for the couch cushions, for him, like you don’t know what else to hold onto. The way your thighs clamp around his head when he groans into your cunt.

That’s when he realizes.

You’ve never been eaten out before.

It hits him all at once—in the way you shiver, in the way your body doesn’t quite know how to take the pleasure he’s giving. There’s something raw about it. Uncharted. Holy.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tease. Just lets the knowledge settle deep in his chest like a vow.

So he slows down. Not to drag it out—to care. To guide you through it.

He pulls back just slightly, presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another one, lower, softer. You can feel his breath against your skin, shaky and uneven, like you are unraveling him just by letting him do this.

He kisses down, worshipful, open-mouthed presses of tongue and lips trailing toward where you’re slick and trembling—until he’s back on you, groaning deep in his chest like he needs this to survive.

He laps at your cunt like a man obsessed. Messy, wet, obscene.

His tongue flicks fast over your clit, sloppy and relentless, and when you whimper—high and panicked—his hands tighten on your thighs, dragging them wider, pushing you open like he can’t get enough. His nose presses into the soft swell of you and his mouth won’t stop.

And god—god, the noises.

The slick suck of his mouth, the soft wet licks between your folds, the broken, wanton moans he keeps letting out like your taste is fucking euphoric.

Your thighs are trembling against his cheeks, toes curling against the cushions, hands fisting in the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this plane of existence. Every time you start to come down, he drags you right back up—tongue flicking, then flattening, then sucking.

You’re soaking him. You know it. Can feel the slick mess coating his lips, his chin, now—but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t even flinch. Just dives in deeper, grinds his mouth against you like it’s the only thing that matters.

And maybe it is.

You’ve never made sounds like this before. Never felt anything like this. It’s a full-body unraveling—pleasure so raw and high-pitched it’s almost unbearable. You can’t even find words anymore. You try—gasp out his name, maybe a plea, maybe a warning—but it’s just breath. Just noise.

He hears it anyway.

Groans in response, and the vibration shoots through you—tightens every nerve, every muscle. You feel it everywhere. In your spine, in your belly, in your fucking teeth.

He licks through your folds like he’s trying to commit the shape of you to memory, tongue dragging over your clit in slow, hard laps now—intentional, devastating. One hand lets go of your thigh to slide underneath you, to lift your hips, tilt you toward his mouth like an offering.

Like you’re his altar and he’s ready to worship.

You don’t even realize you're crying until the tears hit your cheeks—silent and sudden, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of it, the depth of it, the relentlessness of him.

Jisung doesn’t notice.

Or maybe he does and just thinks it’s holy.

Because he’s still moaning against your cunt like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Like this is salvation. Like this is his first time, too.

The warmth is unbearable. Sharp and sweet and all-consuming, climbing up your spine in thick, molten waves that won’t stop—won’t let you go. Your muscles are locking up, your breath catching in your throat, your fingers cramping from how tight you're clenching the cushions.

You’re going to break.

You know it.

You want to.

And he just keeps going—tongue pressed flat and firm against your clit now, dragging in slow, filthy circles while his lips suck softly, reverently, like he’s trying to love you apart piece by piece.

You feel it snap somewhere deep inside you.

The heat—the ache—the need—it peaks.

And then it bursts..

Your thighs clamp around his head, your hips jerk off the couch, your moan rips loose from your throat like you’ve been silenced your whole life and this is the only language your body ever needed to speak.

You’re cumming. Hard. Helpless.

Everything pulses—your cunt, your chest, your fingers. Every nerve is alight, every inch of you clenched and shaking, your whole body seized in the grip of something so big you can’t name it.

And Jisung doesn’t stop.

Not when your legs twitch.

Not when your body tries to squirm away.

Not even when you sob his name, high and wrecked, too sensitive to breathe.

He eats it up. Literally.

Groaning low in his throat, nose pressed to your mound, tongue still working your clit like he wants to wring another orgasm out of you before this one’s even ended. You try to stop him, legs trembling, fingers pushing at his hair with barely any strength behind them.

But he just moans again, long and loud and ruined, the vibration shooting straight through your core.

“H-Han—” you gasp, voice cracked and teary.

But he can’t stop. He won’t.

You’ve broken open for him—shattered for him—and it’s like something inside him snapped too. His mouth keeps moving, lapping through your folds like he’s addicted, like he needs the taste of you to live, sucking every drop from your body like he’s trying to memorize it.

You try again to push him off. This time with real effort. A desperate shove, your fingers fisting in his hair and yanking—not hard, not mean, but urgent.

“Han, please—”

He finally pulls back.

Gasps.

His chest is heaving. His mouth is slick and swollen, the lower half of his face soaked in your release, and he blinks up at you like he forgot where he is.

“Shit—fuck, I’m sorry, I—” he pants, voice wrecked, dazed.

Then he looks down.

And groans.

Because you’re still dripping.

Slick pooling out of you, slow and obscene, catching the light as it runs in glistening streaks down the curve of your pussy and the swell of your ass, soaking the couch beneath you.

And he can’t help himself.

His hands slide up your thighs again—possessive, reverent—and before you can stop him, he leans back in.

One long, filthy lick—from your entrance to your clit—slurping up everything you spilled. He moans as it hits his tongue, deep and satisfied, and swirls it around like he’s tasting honey.

He pulls back just far enough to look at you.

Face flushed, lips swollen and slick, chin glossy with your release. His eyes are glassy—fucked-out and starving and soft in a way that shouldn’t match the filth of what he just did to you. But somehow it does.

Somehow, it makes it worse.

He’s panting like he just ran miles. Sweat dampens his curls, his hoodie clings to his chest, and his cock is still straining hard against his sweats—visibly aching. But he doesn’t even look at himself. Doesn’t even care.

He’s still looking at you.

At the mess he made.

At your cunt—pink and soaked and fluttering with aftershocks, spread open on the couch like he carved you out just for him.

And he fucking smiles.

“Jesus,” he breathes, dragging his thumb along your inner thigh, slow and lazy, eyes still locked on the slick between your legs. “You’re unreal.”

You’re still trembling—wrung out, flushed, completely silent now except for the shattered sound of your breath.

But he isn’t done.

Not really.

Because then his thumb moves—trails closer, closer, until it’s swiping through the slick seam of you, collecting it, spreading it.

You flinch, hips twitching, breath hitching on a wrecked little gasp.

He freezes.

“Sorry—shit, sorry,” he murmurs, voice gone soft in the edges. “You’re probably so fucking sensitive right now.”

You nod, dazed. Barely. You’re not even sure you meant to.

But his eyes drop back down—and the sight of your cunt twitching under his touch, the way slick is still dripping out of you, slow and shiny, pooling where your thighs meet—

It short-circuits whatever restraint he had left.

“Can I…” he starts, already leaning in again, lips parted, breath ragged. “Just—one more taste, baby. Please.”

And before you can answer, he’s there again.

Licking into you.

Tongue flat and greedy, slow and deep, sliding through the wreckage he left behind like he needs it to breathe. He moans—loud—when it coats his tongue, when it drips down his chin, when he presses another kiss to your clit like he’s thanking it for everything.

You can’t stop shaking.

From how tender he’s being while still devouring you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. From how overwhelmed your body feels—stretched between too much and not enough, oversensitive but still wanting.

He doesn’t rush now. Doesn’t try to make you cum again.

This is different.

It’s reverent. Like he’s cleaning you up with his mouth, dragging his tongue through every slick drop, pressing soft kisses into the mess like he’s trying to soothe the tremble in your thighs.

You whimper, just once—raw and hoarse.

That’s when he stops for real.

You sigh into his mouth, quiet and trembling, the kind of sound that only comes when everything inside you is raw—peeled back, exposed, open. He swallows it like it’s precious. Like it matters.

His hand at your waist shifts, pulling you gently forward until your chest brushes his. You’re still bare from the waist down—thighs sticky, breath uneven—and he’s still clothed, still hard, still aching beneath his sweats.

But he doesn’t grind against you.

Doesn’t ask for anything.

He just holds you.

Your knees fall around his hips, lazy and loose, and his thumb strokes the hinge of your jaw—slow, absent, like he needs the contact to stay calm.

The kiss deepens. Not with hunger. With heat. With reverence. His lips move against yours like he wants to memorize the shape of your mouth, your breath, the taste of your tongue mixed with your own arousal.

You break first—pulling back just a fraction to breathe, eyes fluttering open.

He’s already looking at you.

And there’s something in his gaze that wasn’t there before. Something stunned. Struck. Soft.

He whispers, “You okay?”

You nod. Maybe too fast. You feel stripped down to something small and shaking, something new—but his hand doesn’t leave you. His thumb still brushes your cheek. His chest still rises and falls like he’s feeling everything with you.

You whisper back, “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

Jisung exhales a laugh—wrecked and wrecking.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, leaning forward again to press a kiss to your cheek, then another to your temple. “Then I guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

You don’t even realize you’re smiling until he kisses it. Presses his lips right there, at the corner of your mouth, so gentle it makes your eyes sting all over again.

There’s a beat of silence—thick and golden, warm between the ruined rhythm of your breathing.

Then he asks, quieter this time, “Can I hold you for a while?”

And god. You’ve never wanted anything more.

______________________________________________________________

The crowd pours out of the auditorium like a tide—caps slightly askew, diplomas clutched tight, families gathered in little clusters of congratulations and cameras. Laughter. Shouts. The click of heels and the flutter of gowns. You scan the crowd, heart racing, eyes darting.

And then you see him.

Leaning awkwardly against a tree, holding a slightly crumpled bouquet of grocery store flowers and dressed in the nicest outfit you’ve ever seen him wear. Still a hoodie—because he’s him—but it’s black and clean and zipped halfway up over a plain white tee. His hair’s been pushed back, curls tamed, face soft in the sunlight.

Like he wanted to look good.

For you.

You run.

Full sprint, no hesitation. Laughing, radiant, the hem of your gown flying behind you. And Jisung barely has time to react before you crash into his arms—legs wrapping around his waist, face buried in his neck.

He catches you without thinking. Arms locked tight around your back, holding you like the whole world could fall away and he’d still have you.

“Jesus—hi,” he breathes, stunned, grinning into your shoulder. 

“You came,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to look at him, eyes glassy and sunlit.

“Of course I came,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “I wouldn’t miss this.”

You swallow, smile trembling just a little. You’re still holding your cap too tightly. Still searching the crowd behind him, over his shoulder, behind trees and between cars—hoping.

And Jisung sees it.

Sees the flicker in your expression when you realize no one else is coming. No familiar voices calling your name. No parents weaving through the crowd, late and disheveled but here. Nothing.

Just him.

You try to play it off—force a smile, tilt your head.

But Jisung just exhales, jaw tight, eyes warm and sharp.

“Hey,” he says softly, tipping your chin up. “Fuck ‘em.”

Your breath hitches—more from the way he says it than what he says. No apology. No pity. Just truth, blunt and biting and yours.

“Fuck ‘em,” he says again, firmer this time. “They don’t get to take this from you.”

And something in you cracks. Not the kind that breaks—the kind that lets light in.

Your cap slips from your hand to the pavement. You don’t even notice. You just lean forward and let your forehead rest against his, eyes fluttering shut as the noise of the world fades away.

“I thought it wouldn’t matter,” you whisper. “That I didn’t care.”

He nods like he already knew. Lets his hand fall to the small of your back, thumb tracing slow circles through the fabric of your gown.

“But it does,” you admit.

“Of course it does,” he murmurs. “You deserved more than this.”

You pull in a shaky breath. Exhale. Nod against him.

And then you laugh—quiet, almost startled. “God, you look nice.”

He pulls back just enough to give you a crooked smile. “You noticed?”

You sniffle, wiping under your eyes. “You did your hair.”

“I used product and everything,” he says solemnly, and that makes you laugh for real this time. His face lights up at the sound. Then, like he remembers something, his eyes go wide and he fumbles for something in his pocket.

“Wait—here. Got you something.”

You raise a brow as he pulls out a pair of slightly beat-up white AirPods and holds them out like they’re wrapped in silk.

“Your... earwax?” you tease, voice still thick, but lighter now.

Jisung groans, face going red. “Just put them in, smartass.”

You give him a look, lips twitching like you’re holding back another laugh, but you take them. Slip them in with practiced ease, still smirking, still sniffling a little.

And then—

You hear it.

Soft at first. A low, warm hum of synth. That familiar piano progression you’ve heard a hundred times echoing from his bedroom speakers, half-finished and always evolving. A quiet heartbeat of static underneath, the sound of something personal, unfinished—

But not this time.

Now it’s whole.

The bass comes in slow. The melody rises. The rhythm finds its footing like it’s been waiting for you.

Then his voice.

His voice.

Low. Raw. Stripped back and unfiltered, like he recorded it in the middle of the night, barefaced and half asleep. It’s not polished. It’s intimate. Each lyric laid out like a confession, like he’s pressing it directly into your chest.

You freeze.

Your mouth parts, but no words come out. You just stare at him—eyes wide, breath caught, the world suddenly nothing but him and the song in your ears.

Jisung watches you closely, fidgeting, clearly trying to read your face.

“I, uh… I finally finished it,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Track 12. I—kind of stayed up all night working on it. Wanted you to be the first to hear it.”

You swallow hard. “You—wrote this… for me?”

He nods, sheepish. “Well, yeah. Who the fuck else would it be for?”

You blink at him, still stunned, still half-floating somewhere between the melody and his smile.

The music wraps around you like a secret, like sunlight through a window. His voice in your ears. His eyes on your face. His hands fidgeting at his sides, picking at the edge of his hoodie sleeve, suddenly nervous like he didn’t just lay his heart bare in a three-minute track.

And then he says it.

Quiet. Almost like it slips out.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your breath stutters.

He panics a little, eyes going wide, hands gesturing now like he’s trying to physically catch the words and shove them back into his mouth.

“I mean—not in like, a weird, ‘I wrote you a song and now you have to marry me’ way. I just—I’ve been in love with you for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it. And then I kept not saying it, and then you let me eat you out on your couch and I was like, oh cool, guess I’m definitely in love with her—”

You stare at him.

Mouth slightly open. Ears still ringing with his voice from the track. Face flushed from the heat of him and the way he’s unraveling in front of you, hands flailing, words tumbling out too fast, too honest, too him.

“And now I’m saying it,” he rushes on, breath hitching. “And maybe it’s too soon or maybe it’s stupid but—fuck, I don’t care. I love you. And I don’t just mean in the afterglow, post-head, 'wow-she’s-so-pretty-when-she’s-cumming' kind of way—which, like, you are—but I mean in the real way. In the way where I think about you all the time and you’re in my music and my coffee and my fucking laundry detergent because you smell like it now—”

You cut him off with a laugh—soft and stunned, the kind that comes from something blooming too fast in your chest. Your hands reach for him instinctively, palms pressed to his chest like you’re trying to slow his heart down, or maybe match yours to it.

Then lean up and kiss him.

He melts into it—hands landing on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll float off if he doesn’t hold you down. His mouth is soft, a little shaky, like he still can’t believe this is happening. Like he’s kissing you with both hands behind his back, offering up his heart like a truce.

When you pull back, your forehead rests against his.

You’re smiling. He is too, in that breathless, stunned way—like you’ve both finally exhaled.

“I’m in love with you too,” you whisper.

He chokes out a sound. Somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. “No shit?”

You nod. “No shit.”

Jisung blinks, then grins—slow and wide and boyish.

He just stands there, still holding you, like his body hasn’t caught up with what just happened.

Like he's trying to memorize this moment—your smile, your closeness, the soft heat of your hands resting over his heart.

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else. Closes it again.

Then settles for a quiet, breathless, “...Okay.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Okay?”

He nods, dazed. “Yeah. Just… okay. Everything’s okay now.”

You lean into his chest, let your head fall to his shoulder. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for months. His arms wrap around your waist again, this time more certain. More steady.

And for a moment, neither of you says anything.

The crowd is still bustling in the background. Cameras flashing. Tassels swinging. Parents calling names that don’t belong to you. The sound of it used to sting—but not now. Not with him holding you like this. Not with the song still echoing in your ears, a private chorus written just for you.

You glance up. “So what now?”

He looks down at you, still smiling like he doesn’t know how to stop.

“We go home,” he says. “Order too much food. Fall asleep on the couch. Pretend we’re not both crying during The Office reruns.”

You snort. “That’s your big plan?”

He leans in, nudges your nose with his. “No,” he murmurs, softer now. “My big plan is to love you for a really, really long time.”

Your heart stutters.

And it’s so simple—so quiet, so uncomplicated—but it wraps around you like warmth, settles deep in your bones like something you forgot you were allowed to want.

You tip forward and kiss him again, just once. Just enough.

“Sounds like a good plan,” you whisper.

He grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eventually, your fingers find his, threading together as the crowd begins to thin. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, grounding and sure.

You glance down at the flowers, still clutched in your other hand—slightly crushed, petals soft and folding in from the heat. But they’re yours. Someone showed up. Someone stayed.

You’re walking away with his hand in yours, the sun dipping low behind you, the final track still playing softly in your head.

It ends the way all good songs do.

Quiet.

Certain.

Yours.

[meenaxskz]

it glows in the dark (bf!han jisung x reader)

drabble | bf!han x reader au genre: light smut | crack warnings: mature suggestive content | language Summary: han bought fluorescent green glow-in-the-dark condom and a smiles like he just cured world hunger. you? you’re just trying not to pass out laughing. a/n : i wanted to make all the members but i can only imagine jisung doing this kind of things lol

You’re straddling him on the bed, lips on his jaw, everything moving fast.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes, hands gripping your hips.

“I missed you more...”

And then mid grope, he goes :

“WAIT. WAIT. WAIT.”

You freeze. “What?!”

He wiggles out from under you like a lizard “I HAVE A SURPRISE.”

You blink. “Unless the surprise is your d—”

“TA-DAAAA!”

He holds up a shiny silver packet.

You squint.

“…No.”

“Oh yes.”

It’s fluorescent green. With a label that proudly reads:

GLOW UP: For When You Want Your Dick to Be the Night Light.

You stare. He grins like a kid who just won at a claw machine.

“IT GLOWS. BABE. IT GLOWS IN THE DARK.”

You cover your face, already laughing.

“Why would you BUY that??”

“Because I CARE about SEXUAL INNOVATION.”

“Because you’re an unhinged menace”

“Because imagine this: the lights go out. BOOM. Green saber. Science fiction but sexy.”

You wheeze. “You’re insane.”

He winks. “You ever wanted to say 'Omg, I saw stars' during sex and actually mean it? Because I can give you glowstick dick.”

You fall off the bed.

---

The room is pitch black.

Except for the fluorescent green light glowing from one very specific area.

You’re on your back, trying to compose yourself.

Jisung is above you, dick fully luminated, posing like a Marvel villain.

“Prepare yourself” he whispers dramatically “for the GLOW OF PASSION.”

You choke. “Jisung—please—”

He thrusts once. You scream laughing.

“You’re glowing like a nuclear noodle!”

“Shhhhhh” he whispers, pressing a finger to your lips. “Let me light up your life.”

You slap his chest. “I can’t take you seriously.”

He gasps. “Is that what you’d say to green lantern in bed?!”

“Jisung I’m BEGGING YOU-”

He sits back on his heels, still very much illuminated and way too proud.

“Okay, but like...look at it. This is peak performance.”

“It’s radioactive! You look like your dick went to Chernobyl.”

“Why are you being mean to me in my moment of power?!”

You try to straddle him. You really try.

But you’re shaking from laughter.

Hands on his shoulders. Face buried in his neck.

“I’m trying to ride you, I really am-”

“Then ride the lightning, baby.”

You lose it.

Collapse on top of him, wheezing into the sheets.

He flops dramatically onto the bed with you.

The room now filled with the low green glow of his still very much ready junk.

Silence.

Then softly:

“…This was supposed to be the hottest night of our lives.”

You turn your head. “It is. You just accidentally made it sci-fi.”

He sighs. “Next time I’m buying the color changing one.”

You pause. “THERE’S A COLOR CHANGING ONE?!”

He grins. “We’re gonna need sunglasses for that one.”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[seungfl0wer]

*Our Toy*

Paring: OT8 x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut (literally just straight porn no real plot)

Warnings: Multiple orgasms, Multiple partners (basically Polly), Restraints, slight degrading, Lots of pet names, Creampie, unprotected sex, face fucking, Double Penetration, oral (both M/F receiving), tit smacks, overstimulation uhm?? I know I definitely probably missed some

Side note wrote this 2 days apart cause of work and I was half asleep for some of it so I hope it came out not jumbled around like it seems in my head.

Kink(s): Free Use + Sharing is caring lol

˚ ༘♡Master List (Here) for the 1K Event

(The highly requested part two is here!)

-🩵

You have basically just become the boys’s fuck toy. What started off as a thought with bangchan ended up with you being free use for the rest of the members. What a good leader right? Letting them have fun with you to ease their stress, i mean in his own words “how can i keep such a beautiful thing like you only for myself?” Is Chan your boyfriend? Yeah. And the others? They basically are too. Are you complaining though? 8 attractive men horning after you wanting all your attention and love?

——————

You were sprawled out on the couch staring blankly at the tv as Felix laid on the other side of you. He had his arms lazily draped around you half watching the tv half asleep. As his eyes flickered open and close you moved yourself feeling yourself falling off the couch. You pushed your body back into the half awake boy, ass pushing firmly against his pelvis. He left out a soft whimper at the feeling, you not meaning it in anyway besides trying to get situated. He kissed your neck sweetly his arms pulling you into him even more as he slowly started to hump you. “Ah- lix” you said voice almost a whisper.

“I’m sorry do you want me to stop?” He asks his voice hazy. You shook your head no making him sigh out of relief. He placed his hands on your hips pushing his ever growing bulge against your clothed ass. His kisses were becoming sloppier as he started to suck at small spots. Both of you letting out barely audible moans at the friction. “Lix” you whimpered becoming needy. He ran his hands over your body, they caressed your breast playing with your nipples. “How do you get me so horny so fast” he whined against your skin.

His words made you giggle a little moving your hips back to meet his movements “same reason you get me soaked so fast” your words made his head reel. He pushed down his pants sprinting his cock free as he pulled yours down just enough to push his cock In. It nestled between your folds as he kept rutting into you. Your slick lubing him up as he moved. “Shit- there’s- there’s no way I’m lasting long.” He whined out. He gripped you tightly as he moved between your soaked lips.

As he slid in bottoming out you heard a door open, jisung rubbing his eyes as he came out for a drink. Felix didn’t stop though he started to move slowly but deeply into you letting out Low groans. Jisung raised an eyebrow, sipping on his drink he made his way to the living room. His eyes lit up seeing the sight below him “shit- you two are hot as fuck.” He smirked. “Lixie you sound like you’re bout ready to bust” he teased the other boy.

“Agh well- yeah she’s so- fuck- fucking warm” he said rolling his head back to look at the boy “she cum yet?” He questioned coming around to the other side. Looking at you both for an answer. “We just- started” you said breathily. Jisung smirk grew “let me help then. I mean Felix is already so close beautiful let me help you cum”

Before he even had an answer from either of you he was pulling down your shorts more. Greeted by the sight of how soaked you were, his band mates cock fucking into you so nicely. Fuck. Fuck did you look so good. He attached his lips to your clit quickly like a hungry animal he started to suck. Your head flung back giving Felix a better angle to kiss your neck. As he pumped harshly into you, the man below you eating you like a feral animal your high was approaching fast. “Jisung she’s close- god her pretty pussy is clenching so tightly around me- fucking hell she’s gonna milk me good.”

Jisung groaned hearing this moving his hand down to pump his own member as he kept giving your clit all the attention it needed. Felix pounding sloppily now into you as his high was close too. The scene unfolding was straight out of some porno. “Cu- fuck I’m cuming!” You practically screamed out cuming all over Felix’s cock as Jisung lapped up as much of your juices as he could. Felix was quick behind you as he reached his high fast feeling your warmth coat his cock as your walls clenched tightly around him. He came deep inside of you his body stuttering.

Jisung continued to suck at your overly sensitive clit before moving himself “want to stay in with me lix?” He asked the boy who was breathing heavily behind you. “Fuck yeah” he panted. He moved you a bit trying to keep Felix buried deep in you. As he got you positioned he let his cock rub against you spiting on his tip before meeting it at your entrance. Your head was spinning with so much pleasure and of course you weren’t gonna protest. He pushed into you slowly all three of you moaning out.

The feeling of Felix still inside of you, him being limp now but the extra girth driving you insane. Jisungs movements were fast and deep pushing around Felix’s cum with every thrust. “You two are so fucked out it’s so cute” he said his voice a bit shaky. “Y/n fuck you feel so good” he whined out. Felix brought his hand up to play with your clit as jisung leaned down to kiss you sloppily. His tongue instantly darting into your mouth as he sucked your lip between his teeth. Biting it ever so gently. “Jisung!” You moaned into his mouth. Your hands flung around him nails digging into his back.

“Feel good?” He said between kissed. You nod yes as he continued “gon cum on my cock next beautiful? Please- let me feel it” he moaned out letting his body fall to yours as his thrust were becoming erratic. “Ji- close ah just like that. Felix don’t stop” you barked out at the feeling. Body shaking intensely as your high crashed over your walls now clenching around both of the men. Jisungs body stuttered at the feeling dumping all his cum deep inside of you. It mixing with Felix’s and your owns.

Felix went to grab a rag to help you get all cleaned up the 3 of you sitting there heads still reeling. “How about I order some food?” Felix offers. You nod slowly laying your head down on Jisungs shoulder. “Food sounds perfect.” You said eyes half awake.

——————

Sitting in the kitchen arguing back and forth with Minho you rolled your eyes at him. “Oh whatever” you say getting up to walk out before he’s pinning you against the wall. “Excuse me?” He said eyebrows furrowed looking at you. “Is that how you talk to me now hmm? Has it been that long since I’ve punished you?” He spat brining his hand up to your face to make you look at him. You choked out a small “I” before he was pulling you down to the guest room.

He pushed you to the bed back hitting the soft mattress as he rummaged for something. Your eyes widened as you saw him pulling out the restraints. “Minho- I’m sorry” you stutter out “to late kitten” he said with a smirk “gonna ruin you till you remember who you’re talking too” he said restraining your limbs. He pull down your pants, ripping your shirt off before getting on top of you. He had already pulled his pants down you not realizing it until his cock was staring right at you.

“Open that brat mouth!” He growled making you whimper but quickly doing as he said. He gave you no mercy pushing all his length into you. He roughly fucked your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gagged around his him making him chuckle “you can take it all I know you can kitten” he coo’d. He thrusted in and out of your mouth drool falling down your chin. “Fuck- there’s my kitten” he said in a low groan. His head fell back as he used your mouth mercilessly he could feel his high coming but he didn’t wanna cum just yet. Not before he could burry his cock deep into you.

He pulled out of your mouth with a popping sound, positioning himself at your entrance he looked up at you with hooded eyes. Seeing your face covered in drool made him smirk “such a messy kitten.” He said wiping it away. As he did so he slid his cock ever so slowly into you, hitting deep. He almost always could find the right angel to hit your G-spot. He started to fuck you sloppily knowing his high was already close. He slapped your breast slightly leaving a nice red print before he moved his hand to your throat.

You moaned at the pain, it feeling so pleasurable to you. Your walls clenched around him making him grunt in response “ah kitten gonna cum already?” He teased when you didn’t respond he let another smack to your breast. “I asked you a question” he growled out “uh fuck- yes m’sorry” you replied quickly this time. “Who says you’re allowed to?” He grinned that devilish bunny grin before drilling you hard. Your head was so empty at this point “p-lease” you cried out feeling yourself reaching your high.

He thrusted in a few more times before spilling his cum deep inside of you. His thrusts almost all but stopped making you whine. “Awe did kitten not get to cum? Maybe next time you’ll think twice about picking an argument with me.” He stated as he pulled out of you. The emptiness leaving you a whinny mess “no please-“ you cry out a pout plastering your face. “Don’t worry someone will come help you.” He said as he snapped a picture of you sending it to the group chat titled: Free Use.

“Maybe I’ll come get you when they’re done” he said as he shut the lights off closing the door behind him. You were so frustrated at this point pulling at the straps. A few minutes had passed before you heard someone enter the room it was hyunjin coming to see you. “Hey there my love” he hummed looking over your body. “Whatcha do to make Minho do this?” He said teasing you, he quickly leaned down to kiss your soft lips. “He said I was giving him attitude.”You pouted.

“He’s probably right you do, do that a lot” he chuckled kissing you again “he didn’t let you cum did he?” He asked now making his way to your heated core. You shook your head no looking as the man moved “ah want me to help you love?” He said his voice soft. You nod “please” your voice barely audible at this point. He smiled unzipping his pants he had on, discarding them somewhere in the room. “Gonna help me cum too?” He said softly as he ran the cock head up and down your still soaked folds. “Y-yes” you stuttered out.

“That’s my girl” he said getting his body underneath of you. He angled himself just right before pushing up into you. His arms wrapped around your body pulling you as close as possible before fucking you like som horny rabbit. “Ah hyune” you moaned out his body already twitching at the feeling. “Shit- the picture he sent out was so fucking hot-“ he said pulling you into a sloppy make out session. “I could- could have came just at the sight- fuck y/n you’re so fucking hot” he moaned out his words running together.

He moved his hands down to your chest playing with your nipples as he sucked one breast. Hyunjin was always so passionate and loving during sex. When situations were like this though? He was extra loving. His goals was always to just please you, make you cum first and then finish himself. Normally when you came is when he was letting himself go.

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss pulling your bottom lip between his teeth with a soft bite. “God- y/n I can’t get over how perfect you are” he said through breaths. He ran a hand down to your clit now making perfect circles as he thrusted sloppily into you. He bottomed out hitting your g-spot swiftly. You both let out sinful moans, the sounds of you both filled the room in such harmony. “Gon cum on my cock pretty? Gon make a mess?”

You nod yes your mind completely and utterly (and literally) fucked. Your mind was so blank from the pleasure and over stimulation your body shook. “That’s it my love cum all over me, I’ll fill this cunt in return hm?” He rambled. He leaned back a bit as he watched you take his cock in and out so nicely. His high coming fast as he felt your walls clench around him. “That’s it- fuck yes- cum for me baby” he groaned.

Your head flung back finally getting the release you so desperately needed. Gushing around his cock he spilled deep into you filling you with all of his. He wrapped his arms around you kissing you lovingly. “You ok love?” He asked trying to still catch his breath. “Mhm” you nodded giving his cheek a soft peck. The door cracked open “she still in there?” A familiar voice asked “I don’t know dude go in and check.” Another voice said. Hyunjin chuckled a bit “I think you have some more hungry men coming for you.”

As moved away from you, your head still in the clouds from him he kissed your forehead. “I’ll tell them to go easy” he said sweetly chuckling as he opened the door “be gentle guys” he said patting the two younger boys. “I will I don’t know about this freak though” Jeongin laughed poking at Seungmin.

“Look at what that bratty little mouth gets you into” Seungmin laughed looking down at you. “Maybe this was her plan?” Jeongin added. The other boy shrugged at his words “probably she’s a little whore” he said leaning down to you. “Didn’t ask Minho about the restraints?” He added. Jeongin nodded “yeah, he said to let her off but to make sure she’s ruined first” he grinned.

Jeongin went to untie your legs Seungmin having other ideas first. He dropped his pants straddling your chest like Minho had before. “Open up pup I got you a bone” he chuckled at his words. Your mind was still in space your mouth opening out of reflex. “Good girl” he said pushing the tip into your mouth. “Don’t you wanna untie her hands first?” Jeongin asked looking up at the other man. He shook his head quickly “no she can keep her hands tied until I have my fun”

Seungmin was using your mouth, fucking into you not as rough as Minho but just about. He was hitting the back of your throat precum dripping from it. He took your head pushing it roughly as he fucked into you. Jeongin on the other hand was leaving sweet kisses to your thighs as he pulled his own pants down. He grinned his cock up and down your folds “you’re such a mess baby, you’ve taken what 2 loads already? You really are gonna be full.” He said his eyes half open.

“By the time we are done she’s gonna be gushing with all of our cum.” He hissed. You moaned against his cock eyes fluttering open and close. The three of you letting out soft moans and grunts. Jeongin started to play with your clit making your back arch and legs shake a bit. You were so overstimulated already you didn’t know if you could take it anymore. “Fuck you’re taking my cock so well such a good little pup hm?” He said sliding his hand down your neck and back up.

“I can’t hold out any longer dude” Jeongin said as he pushed himself into you. You let out a muffled moan around seungmins cock making the man’s head fall backwards in pleasure. “Fuck-“ he spat out. Jeongins movements were fast and sloppy. His thrusts spilling the others’s cum out of you. The sound of his ball slapping your wet cunt filled the air. You were getting used so well.

“Ah fuck baby you’re so fucking wet” jeongin moaned out. “Yeah she likes being out little fuck toy huh? Like us using all your holes like this? Filthy little mutt” Seungmin babble on. You could only reply with a moan in confirmation. When people say your mind goes blank from pleasure this is what they mean. Your head was so empty only thoughts of them. “Fuck dude I’m close, let’s switch” Seungmin asked pulling out of your mouth. Drool ran down your chin, lips swollen from all the abuse to your mouth.

Jeongin nodded switching spots with the other man. Jeongin wiped the drool from you kissing your forehead softly. He removed your hand restrains letting your them fall to your sides. “Wanna open for me baby?” He coo’d. You were about to nod but Seungmin had mercilessly pushed deep into you fast. Bottoming out quick as he hit the back of your walls. Hit cock head hitting your g-spot as he pushed in and out of you. You left out the most desperate whine making jeongin smirk. “Give me your hands baby I’ll keep you here.”

Jeongin interlocked your fingers together as he pushed the tip into your mouth. He let you take your time with him knowing you were already through the wringer today. “My sweet baby, you’re doing so well” he praised you letting go of one of your hands to wipe away a hair.

Seungmin was in his own little world right now as he fucked brain dead into you. He was going stupid, pounding deep into you. “Shit- you gonna cum? You’re clenching so much around me fuck- gonna- agh- not gonna-“ seungmins words ran together as his high was at its peak. “Your pussy is sucking me so good. My dirty little pup gonna take all my cum?” He said tongue hanging out. He started to leave circles on your throbbing clit making your body jolt. As it did you took all of jeongin into your mouth deep. “Ah- fuck-“ he groaned out.

“Y/n!” Seungmin almost screamed out as he dumped all his cum inside of you. You could feel his ball releasing all of him inside of you. “Shit- I’m close” Jeongin said as he listened to you moaning from the feeling of being stuffed again. “Dude I don’t think I can move” Seungmin said his chest heaving. Jeongin nodded pushing in and out of your mouth a bit rougher now chasing his own high. “Fuck- listen keep playing with that perfect clit.” Jeongin demanded which Seungmin happily obliged.

You could feel yourself coming undone and in a matter of seconds your high was crashing around you yet again. This time it was more intense. Your body shook eyes pricked with tears as Jeongin came half way in your mouth the other half on your chest. “Shi- I’m sorry” he mumbled out. All three of you were panting trying to catch your breath. Minho had come to knock on the door “alright guys let y/n have a break” he said softly standing in the doorway now. Jeongin went to grab you a towel as seungmin wrapped his arms around you.

He peppered small kisses to your shoulder “such a good girl, you’re such a good girl” he repeated trying to sooth you from your high. After getting cleaned up and everything the boys laid beside you curled up into their arms. Minho smiled at the scene pulling the covers over you all kissing your head softly. “Get some rest kitten”

——————

You had surprised Chan at the studio with some of his favorite food. You both sat and chatted while you devoured the delicious food. “Chan you still here?” A voice asked as the door opened. “Oh hey y/n! Wait! You brought food and didn’t ask me to come down” he whined. Chan and you both chuckled “don’t be silly Binnie I brought you some too!” You said pulling a bag from the side. “I figured you were here” you said smiling passing him the bag. The three of you sat and chatted before the two men went about their work.

You sat there on your phone just scrolling until you saw something pop up. You giggled a little sending it to Chan who looked at it right away. He turned around with a shit eating grin “first why is this popping up for you and two come take your place princess.” Chan moved his chair back placing one of the hoodies he has draped over the other chair on the floor. Changbin tilted his head “what are you doing?” He asked curiously. Chan doesn’t say anything just shows him the picture. It’s a picture of someone on their knees under the desk with a massive cock in their mouth as the man above does work. The caption reads: Two Kinds of work loads.

Changbin shook his head chuckling a bit. “Y/n sometimes I think your sex drive can out match all of us” he laughed harder. You roll your eyes “so you’re saying you don’t want me to do it to you too?” You said teasingly. He coughed his words getting stuck in his throat “I- that’s not what I said” Chan laughed this time pointing at the other man “you got him all flustered y/n”

You got into position under the desk Chan having his pants down just enough for you to get to his half harden cock. You gulped back saliva your moth watering at the sight. “All mine” you said giving his head soft kisses. “All yours princess” he coo’d back at you. You slowly started to take his length as he tried to focus on working. Changbin had moved his chair close to you looking down at you with hooded eyes. You smiled letting your free hand lay on his bulge that was growing in his pants.

A few minutes went by Bins aching cock tight in his pants. He moved your hand softly to the side before pulling his joggers down his thick cock sprung out dripping with precum already. You moved from sucking Chan to sucking Bin letting your hand play with Chans long veiny cock. Both of the sexy men above you let out small grunts and groans as you had your fun below the table. A bit into this switching back and forth you were back at Chan. His hands reached down pulling your head fully down his cock, making you gag.

He let out the most sinful noise, your already dripping core clenching around nothing at the sound of him. You looked up at him eyes glassed over. He smiled down at you “c’mere princess let me make you feel good.” He said bringing you up as he cupped your face “lay on the couch” he said fondly as he stripped you of your bottoms. He licked his lips as he started down at your core dripping with arousal. “Shit-“ he let out softly before diving into your dripping cunt. He sucked harshly at your clit pushing 2 fingers into you.

He pumped his arm into slowly but deeply, arching his fingers in you hitting all your sweet spots. You left out sweet moans gripping onto his head. You looked over at the other man who was sitting there mouth open as he jerked himself off. “Bin- c’mere” you said voice hot. It took him a moment to realize what you had said before quickly getting up. He kneeled beside you “yes bunny?” He asked sweetly. You open your mouth slightly looking up at him with puppy dog eyes “wanna make you feel good”

Bin was slowly fucking your mouth, he was so gentle and tender as he did so. While he was doing that Chan was getting pussy drunk. He was devouring every inch of your body trembling under him. You pulled away from bin for only a second “close” you groaned out. Chan picked up his pace fucking his hand into you more as he felt your walls clench around them. You gripped onto bins hands making him melt into you as you came undone.

Bin sat on the couch holding you up as he moved you on top of him. His cock poking at your entrance, Chan also positioned himself about you. “Princess if you can’t take us both you tell me ok?” Chan said softly looking down at you. You nodded yes in agreement, you’ve done this before but with a different smaller member. Bin was really girth and putting it together with Chan long cock was, well let’s just say an automatic orgasm.

Bin pushed into you first moving a bit before Chan joined in. Both cocked filled your pussy so full. So so full. “Fucking hell” you moaned out grabbing onto Chan quickly. After they gave you some time to settle that was it. All three of you were so desperate, searching for you won highs as you fucked. The sounds of you pussy being violated like this were hot but not hotter that the sounds of the two men. God. Was it hot. They fucked into you good and deep hitting your g-spot stretching your hole.

You felt your body getting tight again feeling those wires about to snap once more. Your pussy gripped around them so tightly making them moan in response. “Y/n ah fuck close” bin babbled “gonna fill you” he said holding onto you tightly. Chan wasn’t doing much better every movement brought him closer and closers. His body shaking as he pushed deep into you. “Y/n- fuck I love you augh princess I love you so much.” He said with a long groan.

Chan brought down his hand to play with your clit as changbin started to play with your breast. At the stimulation you gasped nails digging into Chans back. Your body shook hard as those wires broke one by one. “Cuming!” You almost screamed out creaming around both of their cocks. The feeling making changbin buck his hips one more time before spilling inside you. Chan road out your high as his crashed, his cock twitching as he dumped himself into.

Changbins muscles gave out as you all tumbled to the couch. You all sat there panting, you feeling all the cum drip down your leg. “Here- princess” Chan breathed out taking tissues to clean you up. “My pretty bunny” bin said kissing your neck. “She did so well hmm?” He asked looking at Chan “she did so very well” he said kissing you cheek.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[privetdrive]

Been working on a minsung fic about an argument they have over who minho loves more hannie or soondoongdori