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uumiuyu · 10 days ago

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SAME DAMN TIME ── k.ys & c.sn

synopsis ; you were just hoping for a relaxing rainy day, but yeosang and san had other plans when they decided to not go to the gym. one plan was to distract you from the questionable book in your hands. and the other? getting their workout in of course, but in a more.... invigorating way.

pairing(s) ; bsf!yeosang x f!reader x bsf!san

☆ ── wc. ; 6.2k ☆ ── genre ; pure smut (w/ a sprinkle of plot), friends to smth ☆ ── tw. ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, threesome, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, they're both huge teases, big dick!sansang, messing makeout, spanking, hair pulling, clit play, breast play, petnames (darling, angel, princess, love, babygirl...), teasing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting/marking, strength kink, slight size kink, manhandling, rough sex, dom!yeosang x sub!reader x dom!san, san is a bit of a meanie, choking, slight breath play, dumbification, some degration (reader gets called slut once) and praise, oral (m. receiving), cum eating, slight face fucking, both are sweethearts at the end, lmk if I miss anything!

There were always pros and cons of growing up with two guy best friends. The pros are that no other guys really bothered you because they always thought you were dating one of them; hell, some even thought you were dating both. You can recall so many times when both Yeosang and San got flustered when asked if they were dating you, denying it till they ran out of breath. Not that it really convinced people, anyway.

But then there were the cons…

You had to watch them hit puberty, which at first didn’t really affect their physique at all. They were, as you like to call them, string beans. However, once they got serious about going to the gym during your college days, you started to wish they hadn’t. As the months passed, it became insanely harder to turn a blind eye to their growing muscles, especially since they thought it’d be better to be roommates. Ya know, save money and all, but now you were in fear of your mental health.

Today just seemed to be one of those days when your eyes would betray you at any given moment. It was raining out, and the guys didn’t feel like going out to the gym, so what was their solution? Working out in the living room, where you just so happen to be trying to enjoy the new book you bought. However, as soon as San walked in wearing a black tank top and gym shorts, that book was placed on the back burner.

You tried to focus on the pages in front of you, but the words kept blending together, and not a single thing stuck in your brain. It pleaded with you to look up, and at some point, you listened to the urges, eyes racking over the man’s back and arms as he continued with his pushups, a thin layer of sweat covering his honey skin.

The sound of footsteps broke your burning gaze, and you swallowed thickly before looking over, finding Yeosang standing in the doorway. Heat flushed up your neck, thinking that you had just been caught staring at San. Yeosang, however, didn’t say a word as he walked over to the weight rack, the very one you had told them multiple times to put in one of their rooms because it looked tacky, but of course they didn’t listen.

Inhaling deeply, you will yourself to look back at your book and try to read, because the story was indeed interesting. But just like before, the words made no sense to you, and the words started to blur as you reread the same sentence multiple times.

“New book?” Yeosang’s voice caused you to jump, the book falling into your lap, and you looked up at him with an expression as if you had just been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, which, in retrospect, you were.

Swallowing thickly, you bend over to grab the book that had fallen to the ground, “Yeah, I got it the other day.” You told him, your eyes everywhere but on him.

“Oh? What’s it about?” This time, it was San asking the questions, his hand snatching the book from your hand after you grabbed it, causing you to let out a small squeak of surprise.

“Hey!” You jumped up, ready to snatch the book back, having completely forgotten what the book was about until just now. Heat rushed up your neck, painting your cheeks a bright red as you tried to grab the book, but San held it out of your reach, his other hand pressed against your stomach, keeping you back.

“Oh, dark fairies, huh?” San asked in a teasing tone, flipping it over to read the description on the back.

“Yes, now.” You pushed against his arm to try and grab the book once more, hoping he wouldn’t be able to open it one-handed, “Give. It. Back.”

Just as you finally break free from San’s grasp and are about to grab the book, Yeosang reaches down and grabs it from San. A yelp fell from your lips as you collapsed in San’s lap, head snapping up to look at Yeosang as he started to open the book. Dread filled your body as his eyes began to scan the first few pages that held content warnings.

Accepting defeat, you slumped down on San’s legs, head hanging over his knee, not ready to face the embarrassment that was about to happen.

“Jeez, I didn’t know you were into this type of stuff y/n.” Yeosang chuckles, and you groan, covering your face. He looked down at you, a smirk tugging on his lips as he saw the tips of your ears turn a brilliant shade of red.

“Wait, wait, lemme see.” San held a hand back out to Yeosang, wanting to see just what you had been reading about.

“Stop, please.” You pleaded with them, tears of embarrassment brimming in your eyes as you tried to sit up.

However, San pressed a hand flat against your back, pushing you right back in his lap. Heat started to bloom in your lower gut as he held you in place. You wanted to hate yourself for getting turned on by this situation, but you had been fawning over them for the last few months, and being practically bent over San’s lap was not helping your case.

Yeosang handed San the open book, and the dark-haired male took it, eyes skimming over the same words that Yeosang had read just moments ago. A sinister smirk pulled on the male's lips the more he read, and you continued struggling to get out of his hold, but to no avail.

“Hair pulling, size kink, bondage, choking, strength kink…” The more San read aloud, the more embarrassed you felt, hands coming up to cover your face as a few tears dripped from your eyelashes. You whined for him to stop, but he didn’t listen; instead, he continued to list the warnings until he finished. ”Damn y/n, I didn’t think you were that kinky.” He chuckled, hand still firm against your back, and you shook your head in protest.

You couldn't bring yourself to look at either of them, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole. Your whole body felt like it was set on fire, and you couldn't tell if it was from the embarrassment or the way that San's hand trailed further down your back until his fingers brushed against the skin that was peeking out from where your shirt rode up.

“Why are you acting all shy now? You were just reading it with a straight face.” Yeosang teased as he moved closer to you, crouching down in front of you. A gasp fell from your lips when his fingers caught your chin, pulling your head up to look at him. “Or were you hoping we'd notice, hmm? Want us to do those things to you?” He continued to tease you, and you swore that your face was the shade of a cherry.

“N-No.” You choked on your words as you looked up at him with glossy eyes.

“Really?” San asked, tossing the book onto the coffee table before his hand moved to wrap around your waist, “So you weren't just eye fucking us earlier?”

Your heart stopped as your head snapped over to look at him, eyes as wide as saucers. You were sure that they hadn't noticed, but how could you be so stupid? You had been staring at them like a dog eyeing a piece of meat.

“Caught ya’,” San smirked at you, and you squirmed around, finally breaking free of his hold and rolling over to sit on your knees in front of them.

“I wasn’t!” You exclaimed, a dull ringing forming in your ears from the sudden movement, “plus it’s your fault for turning the living room into your gym.”

“Oh, so you were staring?” San asked, leaning forward, which caused you to scoot back, but you didn’t get too far when you ran into something. Well, more like someone.

“Don’t run away yet.” Yeosang’s voice rang in your ears as you tilted your head back, finding him standing right behind you. He then crouched down once more, grabbing your arm and pulling you back into him as you tried to escape again.

“Let me go! I need to feed my fish.” You came up with an excuse and mentally facepalmed as the words left your lips, but both males looked at you in amusement.

“You don’t have a fish, darlin’.” Yeosang’s voice was right next to your ear, causing your body to freeze, his breath fanning over your cheek.

San rose up to his knees before moving closer to you, leaning down until he was eye level with you. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes met his, heart hammering against your ribcage. The sound was almost loud enough that you were sure that they could hear it over the rain that was hitting the windows.

“Look at you, so flustered it’s cute.” San teased, grabbing your chin between his fingers, stopping you from looking away. “What if I told you we were doing it on purpose?”

Your eyes grew wide at his words. There was no way that they were actually doing this just to mess with you. Yet based on the looks that they were both giving you, you knew that he wasn’t lying. You opened your mouth to speak, but San was quick to press a finger against your lips, shushing you.

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you stare at us when you think we’re not looking.” Yeosang spoke, his chest pressed against your back, “How you always bite your lip,”

“Or how you squeeze your thighs together,” San added on, fingers trailing down your neck, a smirk tugging on his lips when he felt you swallow under his fingertips.

“Not to mention when you run off to take a shower.” Yeosang’s lips brushed against your ear, and your head started to spin.

“I wasn’t–” You tried to think of an excuse, any excuse really, but the words fell from your tongue the moment you felt Yeosang’s lips against your neck.

A small whine escaped your lips when he found that tender spot right under your ear, surprising both men. You wanted to jump from the window due to your embarrassment, but your body betrayed you.

“Do that again.” San groaned as his hands found your bare thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and your brain short-circuits.

Yeosang left hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and exposed shoulder that was peeking out from your oversized shirt. Another whine fell from your lips when he bit down, your head falling back against his shoulder.

“Fuck, you sound so hot.” San’s hands slid up your thighs until they met the hem of your shorts, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

It felt like your body was on fire from the sudden overwhelming pleasure, your brain starting to shut down already. Then you were suddenly pulled from your daze when Yeosang spun you around and placed you in his lap. You looked at him with wide eyes, hands finding his shoulders, having not expected him to do that. However, the shock wore off as he leaned in, just a hair away from your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was deep and raspy, causing you to shudder slightly, but you were quick to answer his question by leaning forward, connecting your lips to his.

He groaned against you, hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer. A soft moan escaped your lips when you felt his bulge underneath you. Yeosang’s lips muffled all of the noises you made as he rolled your hips down onto his.

“Havin’ all the fun without me?” San asks, his voice an octave lower than it was earlier. He moved closer to the two of you, and as soon as you felt his hands on your waist heat flushed your whole body.

Yeosang broke the kiss before grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulling it over your head, leaving you in just your shorts, seeing as you weren’t wearing a bra. San and Yeosang both inhaled sharply at the sight of your bare skin.

“Damn princess, no bra?” San leaned into you, whispering in your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine as his warm breath fanned over your skin. His hands found your hips while Yeosang reached up, cupping your breast in his hand.

“Yeo…” You breathed out as his lips left wet kisses all over your chest before latching his lips around your perked nipple. One of your hands combed through his hair as your head fell back against San’s shoulder.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” San asked, lips brushing the skin right under your ear as you hummed.

A breathy moan fell from your lips when San started peppering kisses along the expanse of your neck and shoulder. The feeling of both of their lips on your body had you melting right in Yeosang’s lap, heat overtaking your entire nervous system.

Yeosang moaned into your chest as your hips grinded down against his, the vibrations causing you to let out a moan of your own. San chuckled against your neck as he placed a firm grasp on your hips before making you grind down harder.

“Fuck!” You whined. The feeling of Yeosang’s cock rubbing against your clothed clit was driving you insane. The need to have him inside you grew tenfold, and you tugged on his hair softly, causing him to glance up at you but not quite take his mouth off of you.

Seeing the look in your eye, Yeosang smirked, pulling away from your chest with a wet pop, “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Need you,” Your words came out airy as San continued to attack your neck, your hands trailing down Yeosang’s chest before stopping at the waistband of his sweats.

“I haven’t even prepped you yet. Are you sure you can take it?” He asked, his tone cocky but held undertones of worry.

You, however, were so lost in your need and desire, plus you were sure that you were wet enough that you’d be able to take him without any problem. He couldn’t be that big anyway, right?

“Please, Yeo. I need you in me so bad.” You whined, tugging at the strings of his sweats, causing him to chuckle before grabbing your wrist.

“So impatient, aren’t you?” He cooed, hands finding the band of your shorts and moving forward to place a chiste kiss on your lips before maneuvering you in order to pull your bottoms off as well as your panties, leaving you completely bare before him.

“God, you’re beautiful.” San breathed out, eyes racking over your bare form, and you felt small under his intense gaze. However, Yeosang grabbed your jaw, making you face him before leaning down, lips ghosting over yours.

You leaned into him, eyes fluttering as you waited for him to kiss you, but he never did. Yeosang watched in amusement as your eyes looked at him in shock, a small pout on your lips. He glanced over at San, a silent conversation happening, leaving you confused.

A high-pitched squeak fell from your lips when San grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap. You started to protest, but were quickly silenced when his hand hooked around the underneath of your knees, pulling your legs up and apart. Heat flushed your face once more, body squirming in San’s hold, but it was pointless seeing as he was way too strong.

Your breath hitched and body stilled when you felt a hand on your inner thigh, just shy of your weeping core. Blinking back the tears of embarrassment, you looked at Yeosang as he shifted closer to you, his shirt no longer on his body.

“Yeo–” Your voice cracked when you felt him prodding at your entrance, your mouth suddenly going dry as you realized just how big he was.

Seeing your wide eyes, Yeosang chuckled before leaning over you, pressing his lips against your jaw. He kissed up to your ear, a shiver running down your spine as his warm breath fanned over your ear.

“Relax for me, angel.” His voice was smooth, and a small whine fell from your lips as you felt him push into your tight heat. His hands found your hips, squeezing your soft flesh.

“Fuck you’re so big!” You cried out, head falling back onto San’s chest, fingers digging into his bicep. The tears that were once sitting idly on your waterline broke free, gliding down your flustered cheeks.

Yeosang chuckled softly but was cut off by a groan when you clenched around him, his grip tightening. The stretch that his cock was giving you had stars dancing across your vision, your jaw falling slack the further he pushed in. Until he was fully buried to the hilt, hips pressed flush against yours.

“You’re doing so well, princess,” San cooed in your ear, his lips ghosting over your skin, and you let out a whimper. Your mind started to drift as Yeosang began to slowly roll his hips, testing the waters.

“Y-Yeo… move, please.” You whined, trying to roll your hips against his, the need almost overbearing, and if he didn’t move soon, it felt like you would explode. He smirked down at you, loving the teary eyes that you were looking up at him with. The way you spread out for him was like a wet dream he never thought would come true.

A choked moan tore from your throat when he pulled out only to push back in quickly, hitting every sensitive spot imaginable. Yeosang started off slow, watching the way your eyes rolled back every time he thrusts in, your nails digging into San’s bicep. Then, when his pace picked up, a symphony of noises left your swollen lips.

“Look at you, angel, already so fucked out.” Yeosang teased, hips snapping into yours with a punishing thrust, eliciting a loud moan from your lips.

“She was so eager to be used, weren’t you, princess?” San chuckled, the vibrations sending your mind whirling.

“‘S so good.” You gasped out, head falling back onto San’s chest, and Yeosang’s lips twitched watching you completely lose yourself in the lust. Your eyes flew open as soon as you felt Yeosang’s fingers on your clit, your legs trying to snap shut, but San’s grip was too tight. “Yeo!” You cried out, reaching down to shove his hand away as you felt the pressure in your gut build quickly, way too quickly.

“C’mon, love, I know you can handle it.” His voice was smooth, a smirk tailored to his face, and his pace never slowing. He thrusts into you relentlessly as his finger toyed with your twitching clit, a series of moans and cries fell from your lips.

Then you felt it. Your high crept up on you way too quickly, and you didn’t even get a chance to warn Yeosang before it burst. A silent scream tore through your lungs as your release gushed out in waves all over Yeosang’s cock.

“Fuck.” San groaned, watching as your body trembled in his hold, legs fighting to close, but his grip was far too strong.

“God, you just squirted,” Yeosang growled, bending over you to capture your lip in a messy, spit-filled kiss. The change in positions had white spots clouding your vision as you moaned into Yeosang’s mouth.

“Y-Yeo–” You choked out as he bullied his cock further into your walls, brushing over your sweet spot in the process. Your hands are now on his shoulders, digging into his skin, surely leaving behind crescent shapes from your nails.

Your vision started to blur as his lips latched onto your collarbone, nipping at the skin. Your body twitched in San’s hold, and it felt like your mind was being sent into orbit due to how hard he was going.

“Just a little bit longer, angel.” He cooed in your ear, nipping at your earlobe, and your back arched against him. He had a vice-like grip on your hips, using them as leverage to fuck into your weeping pussy. The way your walls were squeezing around him was about to drive him mad.

“C’mon, princess, open those pretty eyes. Watch as Yeo creams your sweet little cunt.” San coaxed your eyes open, the sight of your teary eyes nearly tipping Yeosang over the edge. San peppered kissed all over your jaw, soaking in the high-pitched moans that left your lips.

“Fuck, cumming.” Yeosang groaned, burying himself to the hilt in your soaping cunt, painting your gummy walls white with his seed. The warm feeling of his cum spilling inside of you tipped you over the edge once more, a weak whine breaking past your lips as your fingers dug into his forearm.

“Did you fill her nice and full, Yeo?” San asked, a smirk adorning his features as he looked at the man in front of him, who met his gaze with a smirk of his own.

“Oh yeah,” He nodded, slowly slipping out of your walls, making you feel every curve and vein of his dick, and you croaked out a whimper. San’s eyes fell to your pussy, watching in amusement as Yeosang’s cum started to spill out. “She’s still got room for another load, don’t you pretty girl?”

Your head was utterly consumed by pleasure at this point, your pupils dilated to the point that they could barely make out your irises. A never-ending heat consumed your body, need growing once more at the thought of them fucking another load of their cum into your sensitive pussy.

“Please.” You pleaded, eyes flickering up to San with a small pout, and the dark-haired male felt his dick twitch in his sweats.

“Fuck.” He cursed, lowering your legs and your body melted against his, and he brought his face down to yours. His fingers brushed over your heated cheeks, lips ghosting over your skin, causing your eyes to flutter. “You want another load babygirl, is that it?”

“Yes, Sannie, please.” You whined, moving forward to connect his lips with yours, but his grip on your jaw tightened, keeping you in place.

A dark chuckle flowed from his lips, the sound went straight to your pussy, causing you to clench around nothing. Then, before you could even process it, you were pulled out of San’s lap, right into Yeosang’s arms. San’s hands found your hips, pulling them up until they hung in the air.

“Such a pretty pussy.” San cooed, his hands smoothing over your ass before landing a harsh smack against your skin. Your body lurched forward with a choked whine, the skin tingling under his palm. He repeated the action a few more times, watching as your body started to shake, hands gripping Yeosang’s thighs.

“I didn’t know you were such a pain slut angel.” Yeosang teases, fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head up until you are looking at him. Tears stuck to your lashes while others spilled down your cheeks, a sight that Yeosang wanted to burn into his brain.

Your body shivered as San’s hand trailed up your spine, before tangling in your hair and yanking your body up. A whimper of his name fell from your lips as your back met his chest, hands going to his thighs to keep your balance.

San’s warm breath fanned over your ear, causing your body to shudder, your arousal building further, “Look, princess, Yeo’s all hard again. Why don’t you be a good girl and help him out while I fuck this pretty little cunt of yours, hmm?”

His free hands snaked down your waist, cupping your heat, causing your hips to buck against him. His name fell from your lips in a breathy moan, eyes fluttering at the contact. You bit your lip to try and keep your moans at bay, suddenly aware that you were still in your apartment and your neighbors could probably hear you. However, all of those sounds broke free once San’s fingers split your folds and pressed against your aching clit.

“F-Fuck!”

“Answer me, princess.” His voice was rough against your ear as he leaned further into your body, finger working lazy circles on your clit. Panting, you tried to nod your head to the best of your ability, seeing as he still had a hold of your hair. A sharp cry fell from your lips when he tugged your head back, the burn causing more tears to brim in your eyes. “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes.” You whimpered, and San released his hold, allowing your body to crumble right back into Yeosang’s lap. Your hands gripped onto his thighs as you tilted your head, coming face-to-face with Yeosang’s erection, pre-cum glistening on the tip.

Raising up on shaky arms, you took his cock in one of your hands, pumping slowly. A small whine fell from Yeosang’s lips, his hand falling back at the feeling of your soft hand on his skin. You could feel yourself clench around nothing at the sound, a sound that you wanted to hear fall from his lips over and over again.

You lean forward, bringing your face closer to his length and giving his tip a few kitten licks. Yeosang bit his lip as he looked down at you, moving some of your hair out of your face before gathering your strands into a makeshift ponytail so he could see you.

You were reminded of San’s presence when he started teasing your folds with the tip of his dick, his other hand gripping your hip. A whine reverberated from your throat when he brushed against your still sensitive clit.

“Sannie…” You breathed out, head falling forward when his tip dipped into your walls. However, you cried out pathetically when he smacked your ass, his hand rubbing over the now red skin.

“Focus, princess, or we can leave you here high and dry.” He cooed, but there was an edge to his tone that sent a shiver down your spine because you knew he wasn’t joking.

Lifting your head once more, you moved closer to Yeosang’s cock, wrapping your lips around his tip. Yeosang inhaled sharply through his nose as his hips bucked up, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly.

“Fuck, you’re mouth feels so good, angel.” He groaned, fingers tightening in your hair as you took him further in your mouth. The sheer size of his cock made it hard to take him all, but you relaxed your throat, trying your best as tears spilled from the corner of your eyes.

Slowly, you started to bob your head, tongue swirling around his tip, pulling a mixture of groans and whines from his lips that went straight to your cunt. San’s fingers tightened around your hips after he aligned his dick with your leaking entrance. Then he thrusts deep into your cunt, burying himself entirely in your heat, causing a choked moan to rip from your lungs only to be muffled by Yeosang’s dick.

Your nails dug into Yeosang’s thighs as San rutted his hips against yours. A loud moan vibrated around Yeosang’s dick, causing him to tug on your hair, his hips bucking up. The feeling of your mouth on his, with a mixture of your moans, had Yeosang’s cock twitching in your mouth. Your body slumped forward into Yeosang’s lap as San’s pace quickly turned hard and fast, his tip hitting your sweet spot instantly, and stars danced across your vision. Tears stung in your eyes as you tried your best to keep your focus on Yeosang, but with every drag of San’s dick against your walls, it had the tip of Yeosang’s dick hitting the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck, you’re doing so good for me, angel.” Yeosang’s voice came out in a moan, causing your pussy to clench around San’s cock, whose fingers dug into the fat of your hips, nails leaving behind indents.

“Shit, I can’t believe you’re letting us fuck your sweet little cunt princess,” San growled, hips pistoning into yours, tearing another loud cry from your lips.

Yeosang chuckled as he tugged on your hair, earning a whine from your muffled lips. The vibrations turned his chuckle into a choked groan, his hips bucking up into your mouth. “Fuck, angel, I’m close.”

You could feel his heavy cock twitch on your tongue, telling you just how close he really was. You tried your best to keep your concentration on his cock, but with how hard and frantic San’s hips were slamming against yours, his dick hitting all the right spots made it challenging. However, you took him as far into your mouth that you could without gagging, your tongue pressing against the vein that ran along the underside of his dick. That was his breaking point. A sharp moan fell from his lips as his hand pressed down on the back of your head, making you take him even further as he came. The vibrations of your moans around his sensitive cock pulled a breathy whine from his parted lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Yeosang chanted as you continued to suck on his still twitching cock, milking every last drop of his cum before he finally pulled you off of him with a lewd ‘pop’. He then let go of your hair before grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks, saying, “Swallow it.”

His hoarse voice sent tingles all throughout your body, your walls tightening around San’s cock, earning a deep groan from the dark-haired male. You swallowed Yeosang’s seed as you held his eyes before opening your mouth and letting your tongue fall free, showing him. A smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours before pulling away, causing you to whine.

He released his hold, allowing your body to fall right back into his lap, your arms too weak to hold yourself up anymore. No longer worried about having Yeosang’s dick in your throat, San's grip tightened before his hips sped up.

“S-San!” You screamed his name, back arching as he somehow hit even deeper in your cunt, making your body shake. Planting one of his feet up, he used your hips as leverage to fuck into you, his tip brushing over your sweet spot continuously. All sound caught in your throat as you tried to cry out, but all that came out was a pitiful squeak, tears cascading down your cheeks.

“Such a dirty girl aren’t you, princess, so fucked out but yet so eager for more.” San chastised you as he watched you push your hips back against his. He then smacked your ass again, a wicked smile spreading across his lips as he watched your skin turn a deeper shade of red.

Your hands balled into fists as your head hung low, your high steadily getting closer. Then you felt a hand wrap around your throat, pulling a weak moan from your lips. Yeosang lifted your upper body up until you were level with his face, the change in angle sending your body over the edge.

“F-Fuck!” You cried out, eyes rolling back as your hands wrapped around Yeosang’s wrist while San continued to pummel into you.

“God, you’re squeezing me so damn tight.” San groaned, head falling right between your shoulder blades. One of his hands moved around your hips, easily finding your aching clit. A strangled moan left your swollen lips as he circled the nub harshly, white spots starting to cloud your vision.

“You look so good like this angel.” Yeosang’s breath fanned over your soaked face, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. You tried to speak, but his grip on your throat tightened, and all that came out was a meek cry.

His lips crashed into yours with an almost bruising force, nearly taking all of the air from your lungs. The kiss was a mess of spit as you tried to keep up with his pace, but your brain was starting to float away from you. With another harsh snap of San’s hips, white spots littered your vision, and a mixture of incoherent words fell from your lips only to be swallowed by Yeosang’s.

A familiar pressure built in your gut once more, and your legs trembled, threatening to give out on you if it wasn’t for San and Yeosang’s hold on you. You opened your mouth to warn them, but you were cut off by a loud whine when San’s lips latched onto the back of your shoulder, leaving bite marks in his wake.

“F-Fuck! ‘M close–fuck, Sannie, I feel weird.” You cried out, hands moving to grab Yeosang’s shoulders to ground yourself as he pulled back to look at your face.

The sound of San’s dark chuckle made your brain swirl, your walls clenching around him like crazy. However, your words only spurred him on. His pace grew to an almost feral pace, causing your eyes to roll, nails digging into Yeosang’s shoulders.

With one last harsh thrust of his hips, your body shattered, your release gushing out of you and drenching the floor. The sight had both men groaning, and San’s fingers sped up on your clit to coax more out of your body. A silent scream falling from your lips, mind gone entirely, and body convulsing between them.

“S-Sannie!” You cried out, hand grabbing his wrist to try to pry his hand away from your clit. He sank his teeth into your shoulder, and your body jerked with a broken moan. “‘S too much.”

“Aww, is it really too much for you, princess?” San mocked you, and you tried to respond, but the only sounds that left your lips were broken moans and cries of their names.

After a few more harsh, quick snaps of his hips, a string of long, low groans fell from his lips. His cum gushing out deep in your womb. The sensation pulls another, weaker orgasm from your spent body, and you whine loudly. San continued to rock his hips against yours, riding out his high before leaning against your back, his face buried in your shoulder.

Yeosang released your throat, letting your body fall against his chest, and all three of you stayed like that for a few long moments. Once he caught his breath, San pulled away slowly, pressing soft kisses along the back of your shoulder as he pulled out of your cunt. Another whine falling from your lips as you could feel every groove and vein of his cock.

“S-Sannie.” You whimpered, causing him to chuckle, his hands massaging your sore hips. Your muscles finally started to relax, and you melted right into Yeosang’s arms.

“Keep her awake, I’ll go run the bath,” San told Yeosang as he stood, grabbing his boxers off the ground in the process.

Yeosang didn’t say a word, just nodded as his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you closer. San disappeared out of the room, and you could feel yourself start to drift off.

“Keep your eyes open, angel.” He whispered in your ear softly, causing you to whine, eyes fluttering open to look up at him. He leaned down, lips ghosting over yours, letting you decide what to do next. You wrapped a shaky hand around his neck, pulling him down to connect your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

Yeosang shifted both of your bodies until you were perched in his lap once more, his hands gently caressing your thighs. Your lips melded together, and you felt as if you could never get tired of the taste of his lips.

Reluctantly, Yeosang pulled away, “You keep doing that, and this might lead to another round.” He teased, and your face flushed, causing him to laugh softly. He then reached forward, brushing your hair out of your face before cupping your cheek.

“Bath’s ready.” San came back into the room, dressed in a pair of pajama pants now, and his eyes fell onto where you were sitting. “Not thinking about going another round without me, are you?”

“Maybe.” Yeosang teased, his hand falling back to your hips to help you stand, but you almost toppled over the moment you stood. Both men chuckled, and you glared at them, telling them that it was their fault.

Once he was on his feet and pulled his boxer back on, Yeosang bent down and picked you up, causing a shocked gasp to leave your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you looked at him, and he just smiled sweetly at you.

“Let’s get you in the bath, then we can order something to eat before going to bed.” He told you, eyes flickering over to San, who nodded in agreement.

As you were carried to the bathroom, the realization of what just happened hit you like a tidal wave. The two guys that you grew up with, thinking that you would never do anything like this with, had just fucked you into the next universe.

You buried your face in Yeosang’s neck as more thoughts of what this meant filled your head, but as soon as you hit the warm water, you decided to let those go for another time. For now, you’d enjoy San and Yeosang’s company as they bickered over what to order.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮

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uumiuyu · 19 days ago

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Men moaning, men whimpering, men crying, men growling, men groaning, men begging, men yearning, men pleading, men who are desperate, men who are givers, men who are touchy, men who are switchy…the list goes on

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uumiuyu · 1 month ago

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hi!! so i’ve decided to make remixes of my current works! this will be posted on ao3! these writings will change from member x reader —> member x member! currently “low rider” has a yunhwa ao3 remix out now! i will be linking the writing remixes o to the tumblr fix whenever they are published! go check out the yunhwa remix now! love u guys :)

#ateezsmut #kpop smut #sub!ateez #umiyaps #afab reader #sub!idol #member x member #yunhoxseonghwa

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uumiuyu · 1 month ago

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breedable

pairing: husband!san x reader

cw: explicit (18+), raging breeding-kink, unprotected sex (no condom, yes other contraceptives), needy/whiny!san, cuteness/sexiness aggression (^^look AT THOSE ADORABLE PICS), not dub-con because you're not actually forcing san to have a child - its just a fantasy and san respects the responsible day dreaming -- oh, and this is NOT beta-read.

wc: 1.6k

note: reverse breeding kink turns my mind into a slushie

masterlist

---

you have a special type of aggression when it comes to your husband.

while there's the usual cuteness aggression that makes you want to pinch his cheeks and tickle him until he's a giggling mess -- or the alternative "awe-infused-aggression," that makes you want to crawl all over him and worship his body (because he's built like a god) -- this special aggression is a mix of the two.

you call it the "i-need-to-pass-on-his-genes-with-mine" or the breeding-aggression. you see his perfect, docile face -- the cute way his brows scrunch together whenever he's feeling too much, the way his chiseled abs clench as he holds himself back -- and it sets a fire in your horny soul.

typically, when one describes a breeding kink, it involves someone wanting to impregnate the other person in an act of love and possession. of course, the other person is wholeheartedly egging them on because they, too, want to carry their baby.

in this case, however, you work hard to fuck him to get you pregnant.

you may wonder, "is that not exactly the same thing as a normal breeding kink?," which will be responded with a, "no, because san is a smart boy and he doesn't want a child at the moment -- that is, not until you're both done achieving your dreams and settled into a family-friendly environment."

san is the sensible one in the relationship, while you play the role of a feral cat in heat. he always insists on a condom or some birth control while you immediately embrace your inner horny demon and cannot go a week without begging him to fill you up like a boston cream donut.

you often think he's just playing the role of the timid damsel, begging for mercy before getting thoroughly ravished because he always ends up giving in.

at first, this obsession started with an accidental and harmless mistake.

you forgot to get condoms.

neither of you realized it until you stuck your hand into the bedside drawer, only to come up empty handed.

san, the sweetheart he is, offered to run to the store to get some. but before he could leave, you pulled him back and convinced him that one time without it wouldn't hurt. you can always take the morning after pill. right?

and you thought that was that.

but once you saw the way his cute lashes fluttered as he entered you, eyes shiny from how lost he was in the pleasure -- maybe something clicked for you. maybe.

and maybe, when you felt how his body shivered, finally feeling your warmth without any barriers, and how his cock throbbed within you, you knew this would turn into an addiction.

a dangerous one.

then when he came inside, painting your walls in his warmth before pulling out to reveal his sloppy mess, your brain chemistry became altered in a way that would change the course of desires for the rest of your life.

and then, pushing his love back in so affectionately with his fingers, eyes glazed over in awe and hunger, you knew something changed within him as well -- as much as he'd deny it. he already started to get hard again from seeing how he dripped from your perfect cunt.

and so, after that fateful night, you tried to hold back, knowing that taking the morning-after pill often wasn't healthy (and, of course, you and san weren't ready for kids yet).

this didn't stop you from imagining how his cum would feel if there wasn't a barrier between you every time you fucked. or how pretty he'd be as your baby daddy, claiming you as his own as he gives you the perfect little family.

ok, and fine, maybe you 'forgot' to buy condoms a few more times after that. and maybe you made it a habit to make him cum a few times before fucking him so he'd be a little less attentive to the missing condoms just so you can feel him gushing out of you once more.

but that's neither here nor there.

...

ok, so, maybe it was here.

and there.

here, in the house -- on the couch during movie night, on the bed in the morning, on the kitchen counter when you saw him in that cute little frilly apron he borrowed from you, in the shower when he got back from the gym.

and there, outside the house -- messily in the car(s), in a tight dressing room, spontaneously in a lake, in a utility closet at his work (don't ask) -- so you had to find a sustainable solution quickly.

it finally got to the point where you made a doctor's appointment to get on birth control because you knew you wouldn't be able to hold yourself back anymore. the pull-out method wasn't going to work for long, and you knew san was struggling to deny your whiny begs to be filled.

now, you can say whatever you want and he'll be the obedient husband that he is.

---

"cum in me, sannie..." you whisper in his ear, rolling your hips and perfectly arching your back so you can press your hot body against his. "don't you want to make me a mommy?"

you admire how his cute face scrunches up as you speed up on top of him. he's flushed a pretty scarlet, from his chiseled chest to his cheeks -- a product of your merciless teasing and edging from earlier in the evening.

"b-baby," he meets your motions smoothly, eyes squeezed shut as his body struggles to bear with the sensations of your soft heat wrapped around him. "fuck, i-i'm..."

"...you're...?" you ask, mockingly. you lightly rake your nails against the back of his neck. the action never fails to make him shiver and buck against you. you let out a short gasp as the feeling of him suddenly fully thrusting into you nearly knocks the air out of you. he's hitting that sweet sweet spot inside of you now -- and it's making you almost as delirious as the man under you.

"p-please..."

"c'mon, hubby, i wanna feel it dripping out of me," you sigh dreamily. your lips barely brush over his neck as you speak, "then you can shove it back in and make sure it keeps, right~"

"yes, yes, anything--" he mumbles, head tilted back in ecstasy. his large hands grip around your waist, guiding your body like a glorified cock sleeve, up and down his cock just right. you swear you're starting to see white spots in your vision as he continues to use your body.

you love it when he's like this. tunnel visioned and desperate to reach that explosive feeling of stuffing you full of his cum. your eyes roll back as he continues to nudge against that soft spot inside of you.

"u-uh, san..." a familiar and addictive exhilarating heat blooms from your core and proliferates through every nerve in your body before you even realize it. you bite your lip to keep you from drooling as your body starts to shake in his hold.

the shockwave of pleasure makes you clench around him, making you impossibly tight around him as he continues to thrust into you.

"fuck," he groans at the feeling of you fluttering around him. he struggles to keep up his pace as he gives into his pleasure. you can feel his abs clench against you as his hips begin to stutter to meet yours. "take it, baby. i need you to t-take it all for me."

"give it to me. i need it."

he pulls your body down and gives one last punishing snap of his hips to press himself deep inside of you as he finishes with a broken moan.

as he cums inside of you, his body trembles, overwhelmed by his orgasm, the press of your perfect body against his, the heated air surrounding the two of you, and the panted breath leaving your precious lips.

his arms wrap around you, holding you close, as he nuzzles his face against your neck, pressing soft and sweet kisses to your sticky skin.

as you both start to calm down, san lifts his face from the crook of your neck to look up at you.

"baby?" he gently brushes some hair from your face so he can get a good look at your flushed expression, "i think i'm ready." he has such a cute little smile on his face as he stares up at you with adoring eyes.

"ready?" you ask, still trying to come down from the pleasure infused fog that has settled over your mind.

"i think we should start baby-making, for real."

a silence sits in between you as you stare at him in disbelief. you weren't expecting your sensible and responsible husband to suddenly propose such a life altering idea to you.

you're suddenly pulled out from your warm post-orgasm deliriousness.

"...san. are you sure?"

he looks down at your connected bodies, at your baby-less stomach and the sticky mess that's now dripping onto his thighs. and then you feel him twitch inside of you.

oh.

"i-- yeah."

not convincing.

(at least not in the state you're in)

"yeah, no." you shake your head, fully aware of his wandering thoughts. "let's talk about this when we're fully clothed, okay."

who knew you'd be promoted to be the sensible one?

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uumiuyu · 1 month ago

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oh, honey lady ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ smg (m)

summary: when you get stood up and cancelled on one too many times, your friend takes it upon herself to get you to enjoy a night out. but you’re faced immediately with the source of your woes pressed up to another and a bartender who catches on quickly. the latter offers to dance with you; will you say yes?

a/n: have been getting a lot of feels for mingi lately .. i blacked out n wrote this aft watching the recent ateez whodunnit because jesus christ that man looked FINE acting as a bartender.

wc: 6.1k

warnings: MINORS DNI!!!! bartender!mingi, softdom!mingi, sub!reader, reader's (ex) bf is a loser, reader lowkey traumatised from her (ex) bf, mingi is very understanding, consumption of alcohol (however, they’re not drunk during the deed, just a little tipsy), grinding in a public space (a club lol), lots of teasing, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, praise, use of pet names (baby, honey, doll), bit of fluff in the middle, clit stimulation, unprotected p -> v sex (pls wrap it up irl), creampie, slight aftercare, mingi is so soft and patient with reader .. ❤️

No matter how much you knew this wasn’t your fault, you still can’t help but find fault with yourself — looks, personality, fashion. You passed it off the first time as something akin to a mistake, a miscalculation with the overtime your boyfriend, Hyunjae, had to do because of his recent promotion.

With mumbled apologies into your hair and fairly enjoyable sex, you thought everything between you both was going to be okay. It was just one dinner date, plus, he made it up to you with a fancy trip over the weekend and several, impressive gifts.

But you think you should’ve known better, because it happened a second time not even a month later, and the cycle repeats itself: sin, repent, and fall back into temptation all over again.

The only mistake you were making was thinking too highly of Hyunjae, assuming temptation was reports and hard work for extra cash, and not having a fucking affair with another woman in the printing room.

By the time the third incident came around, your friend was quick to propose a night out the next day despite your protests, but you know it came from a place of love. With the way she comforted you with memes and funny reels and words of advice, you realised it was the first time you’ve laughed since the supposed dinner at seven.

Ignoring the sinking dread settling in your heart the next afternoon, you shoot a simple ill be out late tonight to Hyunjae before dragging your body out of bed. You moved on autopilot, then, choosing not to acknowledge that he didn’t even return last night, preoccupying yourself instead with picking out your outfit.

And it was easy enough with a clear vision in your head; you weren’t afraid to dress up even after getting together with Hyunjae. This time it wasn’t any different — miniskirt, a cute fitted top and boots — that you already felt a bit better upon arriving at a bar for some pregame. The alcohol felt good, the company was better, and the both of you were already giggling and tipsy when you entered the club.

“Isn’t this way better than crying over that dumbass?” Yunjin nudges you gently before offering you a small smile.

You sigh, “I guess. I just don’t want it to be a recurring thing and make you responsible every time.”

“At least you know your limit now,” She loops an arm around you to keep you close as you two walk deeper into the club. “Still, as much as I love you, it was difficult trying to get you out of the club because you’d only be talking in counts of 8.”

Ever the teasing friend, you nudge her back before breaking into laughter together, heading right to the bar for a lighter drink. It’s buzzing with orders left and right with the (possibly) poor newcomer trying his best to work the counter with all its confusing buttons. But he’s saved by another, a taller, more experienced bartender who was definitely carved by gods.

You try not to gawk, though, feeling guilty even when he shoots the two of you a small customer-service smile. “Give us a minute, alright? We’ll get to ya soon.” The moment he’s turned around, Yunjin shakes your arm excitedly.

“What? what?”

“Don’t ‘what?’ me! Tell me you didn’t see the way he was looking at you.”

“Yunjin…” You sigh. “You know Hyunjae and I aren’t broken up—”

“Yet.” She interrupts with that single word and you shoot her a half playful, half serious glare.

“Okay, but, I have no business looking at other people just ’cause I’ve been stood up thrice.” The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, recognising that it really didn’t sound good out loud.

“Yeah, but don’t you think those are enough times to call things off?” She faces you completely now with both hands on your arms, trying to look you in the eye while you shrink, flustered and a bit embarrassed at how easily you seem to crawl back to Hyunjae.

Because you felt that if you let this go, you’d never feel this way ever again, having someone else walking out your life again like clockwork.

Your fingers tense subconsciously; clenching, unclenching. You settle for taut hands to your friend’s, removing them with the little fight left in you. “Yunjin, can— can we please drop this for now? I came out to forget my boyfriend for a bit, and then I’ll go back home and everything will be f—”

But the universe has other plans for you, conversation cut short from the handsome bartender asking about your orders now.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies. What will you two be having?” In the midst of wiping his hands on the towel, he leans over the counter just as Yunjin gives her order, but you swear over the booming music, the bass reverberating, the screamed lyrics, you hear familiarity.

It’s funny how habitual you can become with someone; hearing that same laugh in your skin on slow mornings and during reruns of B99 that you can’t help but search the dancefloor frantically.

You weren’t even sure why you did it, but you think you were chasing that familiarity and safety of having someone even though they were shit at showing up.

But along the desperate scans you do with your eyes, you register that you were simply accustomed to having Hyunjae in your life, accustomed to coming back again to an empty house. Yet, you can’t even remember the last time you said I love you to him.

And always trust your gut, because that sinking feeling from earlier comes back tenfold when your eyes lock onto two people on the floor with bodies leaving no space.

Hyunjae has no qualms about getting caught, his hands roaming all over her body and practically grinding from behind that you feel your knees buckle a little.

“Yunjin…” The lights were too blinding, the music now too loud, but you don’t have to say anything to know she’s already helping you onto a bar stool. When she turns to where you were looking, her jaw tightens and wordlessly places a hand on your lower back.

You go through emotions, fast — denial, and then anger and then a hint of sadness. But what you’re mainly feeling is a thirst for revenge knowing he thinks you’re a coward, a girl desperate for love.

Maybe you are, and there’s nothing wrong with mourning what you had. Though, being cancelled on three times within two months and spewing lies about overtime, ignites your resolve easily.

All the while, the bartender watches the interaction carefully, skilled hands still able to fulfill people’s orders, but he’s got you and your boyfriend all figured out. Not that he meant to eavesdrop, though, exchanging a glance with your friend until you raise your head with unshed tears.

“Thought I lost you there for a moment. That your boyfriend?” He nodded in the general direction and had probably used that line countless times, but you give credit where credit’s due; he was attractive and didn’t choose to comment on your glossy eyes.

With semi-long hair, pretty moles and plump lips, you want to enjoy this seat a bit longer, proposing a silly idea as you nod.

“Ex-, now. Do you have any chance to get them both kicked out?” You smile, small and unsure, but he replies with an even sweeter smile laced with sympathy that makes your heart skip just a little.

“No can do. If he’s not causing trouble, our bouncers have no reason to throw him out. Sorry, ladies.” For a moment, he’s back to being professional and tries not to steal glances at you as you blink away tears and attempt to appear unaffected.

He serves the drinks he’s already made, helps the counter boy again with orders until he hears your friend beg again when he comes ’round to your side.

“Oh please, Mr Bartender!” He raises an eyebrow, eyes trained on the both of you while capping his shaker before shaking. You purse your lips teasingly despite your blurred vision and the heat on your cheeks, “She can be pretty persuasive.” God, you didn’t even know what you were feeling at the moment.

He shrugs. “Well, tell you what — I get off my shift in about fifteen, and you’re looking for some retribution. Why don’t we do a little dance of our own?”

With a sigh, you ponder over your cards — Hyunjae might be pleasantly surprised and you’d end up with a hot bartender in your arms to boot. But if this is only going to leave a hole in your heart after everything, what really was the point?

“It’s your call, doll. If you’re still holding this,” He holds up a slim piece of metal that matches the club’s colours with its letters engraved in stark white, “by the time I come back, I’m taking you onto the floor for a dance. Deal?”

It’s dropped into your palm before you flip it over, running a thumb over the debossed name.

“Mingi.”

“You got it.” Mingi gives you a dazzling grin and a wink while you stifle a smile.

You spend the next ten minutes debating your options that you can’t count the amount of times Yunjin had to get your attention back on her. Revenge sounded delicious before.

Now? Now you’re waddling deep in doubt, worried about the aftertaste; all you wanted was to go home and sleep this whole thing off. Even the name tag was weighing heavy in your hand.

But the late nights cooking dinner, sitting alone at restaurants and the sheer indifference Hyunjae’s currently dancing with, did you in.

If you were chickening out only so someone this terrible stays, then you might regret this single night with someone else who already has shown you more respect than Hyunjae ever did.

The music is a bit clearer to you, now, and less suffocating as you call out to the bartender with five minutes left until his shift ends. You play with the pin at the back, unfastening and popping it back into place repeatedly.

“I’ll take a Lemon Drop.” A knowing smile, a swipe of your card, sugar sweet on your lips. It hits great, and with a bit of liquid courage in you, you wait.

Mingi is quick to show up by your side a few minutes later, but he manages to take your breath away all over again with a more casual look.

Jewellery, messy hair and unbuttoned shirt down to his pecs that gives you a glimpse of a pretty little pendant resting nicely on his chest and rings adorning his fingers.

“Care for a dance?” His deep voice up close already has your stomach turning, opening your hand to show how you still had his name tag and he grins. “Keep it for now.”

You barely hear the whisper into your ear, but without any second thought you place your hand in his, the metal of his rings sending shivers right up your arm and down your spine. A faint cheer from Yunjin encourages you on, already feeling the addicting beats of the music playing.

Mingi is considerate above all else, looking back to see if you were still there, clearing a path for the both of you until you’re a few bodies away from Hyunjae. But standing out here now brings another wave of panic and embarrassment.

You were really about to do this, but—

What if he doesn’t like the way you danced? What if he’s a clean freak and would rather not have his hands over your already sweaty sides? What if Hyunjae creates a scene?

The thoughts are never-ending, swirling in your mind until you can feel Mingi’s hand enclose around your other hand, halting you from adjusting your outfit, from scratching at your skin.

It’s hot, too crowded for a dance floor and he knows that you’re nervous again with the increased proximity to your boyfriend.

Without words, Mingi brings your hands to rest on his shoulders. “Is this okay?”

You nod. Bodies beside you cause you to inch closer to him and his hair is so soft. Your tongue tingles from the lemon’s sourness and you want nothing more than to balance it out with his mouth that smells of rum.

“Hey, I realise I haven’t gotten your name just yet.” The smile he has isn’t teasing, cocky, and you manage a small one back. He leans down to get your answer.

“It’s (Y/N).”

“Pretty. Follow my lead.”

And slowly but surely, you get out of your shell as you both lose all formality with the ear-splitting songs. The cocktail makes your hands wander, trailing over his nape, over his broad shoulders. He still hovers.

You don’t know whether it’s Mingi, the dim lighting or the song but you don’t hesitate to force his hands to your sides and he takes it as a sign.

He’s pulling you close until you’re pressed to his front, head immediately going for your exposed neck, and the laugh that escapes feels so different from Hyunjae, so free that you giggle with him.

It turns from wanting to Hyunjae to see you could do so much better to genuinely enjoying your time with the bartender that you don’t register the shock forming on Hyunjae’s face when he spots you just a few people over. Mingi doesn’t miss it, squeezing your waist softly to bring it to your attention.

“B-babe? What’re you doing here?” He acts like he doesn’t even know the girl dancing with him, yanking her off of him as he tries to preserve his dignity. But you knew better — you’ve seen her face at company dinners, on his Instagram story.

“Why are you here?” He sputters out an answer, not expecting you to fight back. Hyunjae’s smaller than ever now.

The bartender resists the urge to scoff at his lack of explanation, about to tell him to piss off when you push at Hyunjae with a finger. “I’ll tell you why I’m here. Witnessing you and the girl you told me not to worry about. Talking crap about overtime just to fuck her in your workplace.”

“W-What? That’s bullshit, where’d you even get that from?!”

Thank God for Mingi’s Lemon Drop, because you shove Hyunjae harder than before, angering the people behind him who push him back towards you.

“Guess you’ll never find out how. Get your shit out of my apartment and leave before tomorrow morning or else I’ll be telling your boss about inappropriate workplace conduct.”

Hyunjae rolls his eyes and waves you off, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I hope the job market’s ready for someone who promised overtime hours only to soil the printing room. Keep checking your emails babe.” You purposefully drag out the pet name he likes to use on you, which now sounds cheap and tacky. Mingi can’t help a cackle from escaping, tugging you closer as if you’re his.

And you might just be by the end of this night.

Hyunjae doesn’t bother to one-up the bartender one bit, only throwing Mingi a scowl before elbowing himself through the crowd. Unknowingly, your body relaxes, melting into the other’s arms easily and wanting nothing more than to turn off your brain for the night. It makes Mingi smile.

You’re bolder when the night deepens. It starts with running your hands down his chest and grasping softly at his waist. There’s whispered lyrics into your skin, letting him trail kisses down your jawline to your sternum and you feel like you’re on top of the world.

His body’s flush against yours, tensing and breathing hard. The heat’s suffocating and the kisses sweet, hovering over just where you both need each other desperately.

“Heard you’re a dancer,” Mingi mumbles, sneaky hands going past your hips to your ass and kneads. You laugh.

“You heard whatever Yunjin said? It was one time,” You reminisce about the time you went out for her birthday before getting shit-faced drunk and talking to her only in counts, “and she was struggling to understand what I was saying.”

It takes a beat for you to take the leap. “Want me to show you?”

A pretty laugh leaves his lips, “Your dancing or your innate ability to only talk in eights?”

Fuck, he’s handsome and funny.

“Har-har, very funny.” The moment’s playful but charged with underlying tension that only increases once the song changes. With a hand, you lift his head from your neck, taking advantage of his surprise to turn around.

Pushing up against him, you make sure he’s feeling every part of your ass on him, swaying your hips until you get a small groan from him. Tempted, Mingi places his hands along your waist, helping you grind down on him while arousal pools in your panties.

He’s enamoured with how well you fit against him, even more so when you lace your fingers with his, tugging one up to rest on your chest.

He takes the bait with how you turn your head, boasting your pretty lips with eyes closed. But you’re not letting him get what he wants that easily, finger pressed against his lips.

“Did the Lemon Drop do this, hm?” He’s back on your neck like it’s his home, slurring his words in that deep, deep voice of his that you want nothing more than to hear that for the rest of your life (and hopefully in your bed tonight).

“Maybe.” You can’t help but chuckle triumphantly, but it’s cut short when he suddenly yanks you back to his front; shit, you can feel his hard-on — he’s big.

You subconsciously gulp and pull him closer (not without a mildly surprised “oh”), overwhelmed with the feeling of his chest against yours, of his hips moving in tandem with yours, of his breath on your lips.

“I’m full of surprises, too.”

“That was so corny.” Biting your lip, you try to stifle a smile but it bleeds out past your lips, “You’re lucky I still want to fuck you.”

“Aw, only fuck?” He feigns sadness as he bats his eyelashes at you. That question probably would’ve made you think twice, but with Mingi’s little pout, the vodka in your system and Rihanna in the background, you throw all complicated feelings out the window.

“Shut up, Mingi.”

That elicits a low chuckle. “Gladly.”

He collides with you immediately, lips moulding into yours like two parts of a whole that you stumble a bit from the force. But you waste no time in reciprocating with neediness of your own, tugging him down to you with hands tangled in his black hair.

You could care less about your ex, about Yunjin excitedly texting you from the bar, nor the people around you.

Not when Mingi’s slipping his tongue into your mouth and your pussy’s just desperate for relief that you moan softly into his mouth.

“God, you sound pretty,” He pulls away for air, but he’s already hooked onto your taste, leaving pecks on your lips again and again. His hands rest comfortably on your sides, caressing, squeezing. “Need to hear that in my sheets.”

You mutter a soft fuck before licking your lips, “Your place?”

Mingi hums into your lips, “You have my name tag, baby. It’s up to you,” and grins when he sees you jolt. The pet name affects you. He knows.

Fuck it. You need this man now.

With a quick text to Yunjin, everything that happens on the way to Mingi’s doesn’t exist. The ride was both a torment and a blur when his hand trails so closely to where you need him and his hips adjust uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. You’re so horny that you’re sure you’ve sobered up already.

You lunge forward once the front door’s closed, eagerness undermining both your abilities to remove your shoes, too preoccupied with devouring the other.

Mingi tastes like sage and citrus, a flavour you’ll keep locked away forever; he breaks the kiss reluctantly, and that taste travels down your body, taking his time.

Mingi’s anything but composed, though, larger hands wrapped around your middle while he takes in your scent and sweat, nose pressed against your heaving stomach.

Just a mere bartender, a one-night stand acting like a lover when he fully goes onto his knees and zips open your boots. Torturously, agonisingly slow, and removes them even slower.

By the time the second shoe’s off, your hand has already messed up his hair. You push him to you, he pulls back.

“It’s my time to tease, doll. Patience.” You whine softly in disagreement, letting him plant soft kisses along your ankle, up to your shin and knees and finally your inner thighs that threaten to tighten in his hold.

“Mingi…” You don’t mean to sound so desperate off the bat, but your cunt’s pulsing and the AC’s sending goosebumps all over your skin and possibly the hottest man alive is on his knees in front of you.

“Fuck, baby, I can smell you from here.” Like a gentleman, he helps you to shimmy out of your miniskirt and underwear before tossing it somewhere and you’re suddenly self conscious about being all exposed.

But Mingi simply doesn’t care about decorum as he lifts your leg, prompting you to place it on his shoulder. He marvels at your arousal illuminated by the doorway lighting, stifling a moan.

“Look at you.” Sighing, he plays with your folds, trailing a finger up and down and smirking when he feels you shiver under his touch. “So perfect. All this for me?”

“Y-Yeah, just for you,” Your words are muffled from your hand, trying to hold back your sounds but Mingi isn’t having any of that. He thinks your ex-boyfriend may have something to do with it.

“Let me hear you, alright, honey?” Mingi takes your hand and interlocks it together with his, a promise that you’ll be the star tonight. “We’re safe here, there’s no need to hold back.”

You nod just as he blows into your cunt, making you clench around nothing and he smiles. “For now, let me eat my meal.”

And Mingi eats, convincing yourself that you’ve definitely driven a hole through his shoebox cabinet with how hard you were leaning against it. Your hips buck against his face, tongue flicking over your clit as you relish in the pleasure.

“Oh my G-God, Mingi…” You can barely hold eye contact with him as he latches onto your pussy like a vice, addicted to your taste, your sounds and how you drip endlessly all over his tongue.

“That’s it, doll, tell me how good you feel.” Mingi continues to inch closer on his knees, trapping himself under your thighs as his tongue works wonders.

With an experimental finger, he circles your pulsing hole and pushes in ever so slightly, making you almost keel over from the overwhelming feeling.

“Fuck, Mingi, that feels so—!” Your moans fill his house together with the lewd sounds of your pussy, feeling the vibrations of his hums on your sensitive clit. His thumb plays with it as he comes up for air, adding a second finger easily before starting to pump them with determination.

“That feel good?” He’s brutal in his thrusting, but it’s not even a minute when he returns with his merciless tongue again, swearing that you were seeing stars from this alone.

If Mingi was this pussy drunk, who knows how you’d feel when he’s in you? You tremble at the thought, fingers pulling at his hair until it stings.

But Mingi loves it, loves seeing your eyes flutter close and your toes curl in sheer pleasure as the prettiest mewls fall from your lips. You’re full on grinding into his face now, holding onto his hand like a lifeline, while there’s the audible slick sounds of your juices.

It’s hotter than it was on the dance floor, and fully knowing you’d be buckling to the ground if it wasn’t for Mingi’s secure hold on you. Because you can feel yourself getting weaker and weaker the more the coil in your stomach turns, clamping down hard on his fingers.

“I-I’m close, baby—” Your words slip, every part of your body tingles and he pants out a plea.

“Call me that again for me, doll.” He’s ravishing you, ruining you for any other person and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His rings feel so cold on your cunt, while his mouth’s hot and he’s dizzy off of you.

“Gonna cum, baby,” If your friend couldn’t understand you while drunk, Mingi’s chest puffs with pride making you babble nonsensical things while you’re both tipsy with his name being the only coherent thing, “Mingi, Mingi, Mingiiii.”

The name becomes a chant together with needy whines that’s drowned out by your soaking pussy. Mingi lets the force of his palm stimulate your clit instead, and the visual of seeing him on his knees with this tongue out—

“F-fuck…” Your orgasm hits you in sudden waves, sending you jerking against his hold even when his fingers don’t slow down, “Feels s’good, Mingi—”

“There we go, baby, keep cumming… Taste just like honey.” Mingi groans and drives his tongue along your folds for a taste, but now he takes and takes, savouring whatever you have to give. Sweeter than his Lemon Drop, you taste so heavenly that he wants seconds.

But you have other plans, trying your best to regain your balance and simultaneously drag him up by the biceps. Mingi traps you in between the cabinet, and you trap him with a passionate kiss. Moaning into his mouth at your taste while he soothes your aching thighs with his gentle touch.

“Bed. Now.” Your cheeks warm as he laughs against your lips at your request.

“You got it, doll.” With a hand outstretched, you grab hold and let him lead you just like the club. Along the way, you slip on your underwear just so you won’t be butt ass naked and he throws you a small smile. Except this time, you’re not performing for anyone, not for Hyunjae, not for yourself, and hopefully not for Mingi.

Though, if riding Mingi’s tongue had you thrashing left and right, you think you’d be safe, knowing he’ll take care of you.

His room feels strangely familiar — posters and records plastered up everywhere with a portable closet and pretty lights. There’s a few guitars in cases with one displayed proudly while his desk is littered with cute trinkets and a gaming set-up. It’s a lived-in bedroom, worn down from years of tape on walls and accidents from silly dance moves.

“Hard to believe I’m an adult with this room, huh?”

You smile at him, finding it endearing he’s still kept his hobbies and favourite things close to him. “No no, it’s charming. I like it.”

You continued, “I don’t think having a ‘serious’ job like bartending immediately eliminates your other hobbies.”

Mingi shoots you that boyish grin again, “You think my job’s ‘serious’?” and mimics your air quotes.

“Well, you are handling alcohol — it seems pretty serious, don’t you think?” There’s no choice but to giggle when Mingi’s expression turns from all-knowing to pondering. “And— And there’s always the usual brooding persons that come in to vent their problems to you.”

Mingi bursts out laughing at that with an attractive rasp to it, plopping on his Queen size. “You’re not wrong about that. I guess I’m sort of like a therapist too.”

Like a magnet, you feel the pull into his arms just as he whispers a c’mere, finally able to see his face properly when you stand in between his legs.

The glistening juices on the bottom half of his face make you flush just a bit, but up close, Mingi feels so familiar. Not the way Hyunjae was — that was habit disguised as familiarity.

But despite your unconfirmed fate and the possibility of never seeing Mingi again, he enchants like no other. Fuck, you were talking crazy.

The other seems to see your dilemma, reaching for your hands. “We don’t have to do anything, you know?”

His touch is so tender, it makes your heart ache, “I know we only danced to scare off your boyfriend but I genuinely did want to know you. And… I know you feel it too, but I don’t wanna pressure you after seeing such a shitty thing in the club.”

“You’re… not wrong, Mingi. It has been only a few hours and you’ve already made me feel more worth than he ever did but, I’ll need time to process my feelings too.”

Slowly, you remove your hands from his but only to straddle him in the next second, whining softly when he tugs you closer if that was even possible.

“But tonight, I want you to fuck all the feelings out of me. I don’t wanna think, I don’t wanna—” You heave a heavy sigh, swallowing when you think back to Hyunjae and his colleague.

Mingi applies light pressure to your side to ground you. “(Y/N), hey, it’s no problem. Your wish is my command, tonight.”

“And after—”

“We’ll talk about the after later, don’t worry your pretty little head ’bout it.” You don’t even realise he’s flipped you over but he takes his time to remove his pants and boxers, ego stroked just a little when he sees your wide eyes at his size.

“You’re…”

“I know, baby. We’ll take it slow, alright?” Mingi is steady even as he reaches over for a condom, but you stop him.

“Wanna feel all of you.” He swears his heart bursts at your cute pout. “I’m clean and on the pill, that okay?”

“More than okay. I’m clean too. You sure you’re okay?” He asks as he tugs your panties to the side, interrupted briefly from your impatient hum.

“Yes, Mingi. Please just fuck me already.” Your voice is less bratty, more pleading, but it strikes a chord within him. He obeys immediately.

“Okay, okay!” His deep laugh elicits one out of you, too. At least you don’t stop him from taking the lube — he spurts a good amount and strokes himself with a soft grunt, mixing in with his pre-cum. Relief. “It’s gonna hurt. Need you to breathe and relax, okay?”

Mingi’s already much thicker than your ex, and you hiss slightly at the stretch once he inches his cock in. But it’s nothing you can take, eyes trained on how he’s pushing through slowly.

“F-Fuck, baby, you gotta stop clenching. So tight—” You whimper at the sight, but Mingi uses his body to push you down, distracting you with deep kisses that subconsciously relaxes your body. His intoxicating smell and presence does the rest of the job.

“Taking me so well, good girl.” He mumbles into your skin as you become obsessed with the way his body engulfs yours, towering but certain.

His pendant’s movements are messy, colliding with your chin over and over but Mingi is just so deep it doesn’t register in your head. “Just a little more, honey, you got it.”

In the next minute, Mingi’s loud groan fills your ears, bottoming out in your walls that feel so warm that he never wants to pull out.

His furrowed eyebrows with sweat lined along it paired with his beautiful parted lips is enough to make your cunt pulse and heart full — making a pretty man like him lose his mind over you, desperation and profanity spilling over.

“M-Move, baby, please—” With a slow thrust of his hips, he has to drop his head to yours because you just feel too fucking good wrapped around his aching length. Both your shaky breaths mingle as he sets a comfortable pace that allows you both to feel every part of the other.

And his languid movements have never felt slower and more intense, the obscene noises of your soaking pussy stuffed full reverberating off the walls. It surrounds you like a cloud, making the feeling, the sensations rise to an all time high.

It’s worse when Mingi folds your legs to your chest, the image of his shaft disappearing into your pretty little pussy searing itself into his brain.

Mingi keeps his promise to you, taking your one-worded pleas and turning them into repeated “ah’s” with no room for any word or any doubt left in your mind. By now, he’s pistoning in and out of you, your release from earlier merging with the lube until both you and Mingi are filthy and soaking, juices flowing down your thighs and right into his sheets.

“You’re so wet, holy f-fuck—” His eyes are the ones struggling to stay open now, drunk off of everything you that he can’t even move his hips properly, stuttering every now and then.

There’s the delicious squelches every time his skin meets yours, the dizzying pap! pap! pap! that hypnotises you. “Listen to how wet your sweet pussy is, baby.”

You’re past words, only babbling incoherence as Mingi grunts above you, continuing to fill you up with his cock. His thrusts start to turn erratic, so lost in the feeling that the grip on your legs loses its hold. You take the chance to wrap them around his waist, barely catching his pendant and yanking him towards you.

“Kiss me stupid, Mingi.” The long, drawn out moan against your lips sends heat bubbling up from inside you. And the kiss he lands on you leaves fire along your skin, burning indefinitely until a particular thrust has your eyes rolling back.

“Cumming— f-fuck—!” It comes out in broken sobs as you see white, cumming so hard on his pulsating length that your juices spray everywhere and your legs shake uncontrollably. The slight sheen along his cock starts to form a ring of white and he whines at your warmth.

Everything — the craving for you, your tight cunt, how you leak all over him — makes him cum right after. “I-I’m gonna pump you full, baby— shit…”

Your eyes can’t help but roll back again at the sensation of Mingi painting your insides white, cum spurting so deep in you that you can feel it flow out. It’s so warm that you squirm as he holds your hips down, making sure your hole gets every last drop.

Without pulling out, he admires your sweaty top that’s been pushed past your tits, your heaving chest and the remnants of your trembling thighs with a lip bite accompanied by a smile.

Silently, he caresses your outer thighs, slowly bringing your feet down to rest on his soaked sheets. You whimper when you feel him pull out, the salacious sight of cum leaking out from your pussy comes out in blobs; it takes everything in Mingi to compose himself.

Because you were utterly fucked out, eyes constantly blinking with a light-headed expression that tells him he might’ve fucked you dumb. Your little sounds are just adorable that he rubs his cum just one last time over your folds, claiming you.

“Okay okay, baby, I got you.” With a peck to your forehead, Mingi promises to come back with a wet rag and some water and the last thing you remember is sage and citrus wafting through the air as he plants a sweet kiss to your lips. “And then tomorrow, we’ll figure everything out, okay honey?”

You drift off easily, but you’ll find that for now and possibly forever, Mingi always keeps his promises.

A dream — you think, when you wake up, but you recognise that the bedroom is not yours and the ache in your body persists. But to your dismay, Mingi is nowhere to be found. Not until you hear faint humming coming from the kitchen and smell the lovely aroma of pancakes.

“Morning, baby.” Mingi says like you’ve always been in his life, like you’ve lived here for many years, like you’re familiar to him.

“Y-Yeah, good morning, Mingi.” Awkwardly, you take a seat at his island, but as you watch his broad back cooking breakfast for his one-night stand, you relax for a bit.

Mingi piles a few pancakes for you effortlessly, sliding the plate to you, followed by the butter and then holds up maple syrup in his left hand and honey in the other. The question is unsaid, but you nod towards his right with a small smile that’s returned.

“Eat.” With a plate in his hand as well, he plops down beside you as if one-night stands don’t complicate feelings and makes things messy.

But Mingi, the bartender, with a pure heart and even lovelier soul (you have yet to discover this), eats a meal beside you like you’re tied together by fate (maybe).

(You are).

Now, his deep voice sounds small, but sure. “And then we’ll talk feelings after. And we can talk about the ‘after’ after.”

A deep breath for good measure and luck. “And also maybe about the date I’d wanna bring you on.”

by. janus, from me to you ♡ also major thank you to this video which made me lose my mind n inspired this...

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uumiuyu · 2 months ago

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NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

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uumiuyu · 2 months ago

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uumiuyu · 2 months ago

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pairing: chenle x reader

word count: 1234 (i’m being so deadass)

genre: smut (MDNI), timestamps <3

warnings: bestfriend!chenle, inexperienced reader, pussy eater chenle!!, praise, pet names, overstimulation…again :3

a/n: yeah…take my phone away from me 😭😭

“you’re really nervous, huh?”

his voice is soft— gentle in that way chenle rarely ever is. usually he’s teasing, smug, full of sharp grins and sarcastic remarks. but not right now.

right now he’s kneeling between your thighs, warm palms sliding slowly up the backs of your legs as you sit there on the edge of his bed, trembling slightly, every part of you too aware of the fact that you’re finally letting him touch you like this.

your best friend.

your very experienced, very cocky best friend.

you nod, swallowing hard. “i’ve never—i mean, not like this. not anyone…”

he leans in a little, thumbs brushing the crease where your thighs meet your hips. “i know,” he says softly, meeting your gaze. “i’ll take care of you. you trust me, right?”

you nod again—faster this time. because you do. you’ve always trusted him.

and something about the way he’s looking at you makes you ache. like you’re something fragile. like he wants to ruin you slow.

“good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “just relax, baby. let me make you feel good.”

you inhale sharply as he pushes your legs apart, letting them fall open for him. chenle groans, low and soft, like he’s been waiting for this forever.

“fuck,” he breathes, mouth barely brushing your skin. “so pretty. you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

his hands are steady, thumbs stroking gentle circles into your hips as he kisses closer. he’s not rushing. not even a little.

you’re already soaked, and the first slow lick of his tongue makes you gasp.

“oh my god—”

“shhh,” he murmurs, grinning against you. “you’re okay. i’ve got you.”

he eats you out like he’s memorizing the shape of every sound you make—every twitch, every breathless moan. like he wants to make you cry from how good it feels.

and the praise. god, the praise.

“so sweet, baby.”

“you’re doing so good for me.”

“you taste like fucking heaven.”

his voice is thick with want, but he doesn’t let it slip. doesn’t rush. just keeps lapping at you slowly, tongue dragging through your folds, lips sealing around your clit with practiced ease.

you’re shaking in minutes, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other gripping his hair.

“c-chenle, i—”

he pulls back for half a second, mouth shiny, smile soft and crooked. “already close?”

you nod frantically, eyes wet.

“fuck, that’s so hot,” he whispers, before diving back in.

he moans against you like he loves it—like getting you off is his favorite fucking thing in the world. and it’s too much—his tongue, his voice, the way he’s holding your hips down even as you squirm.

“come for me, baby,” he breathes, mouth brushing your clit, fingers digging into your thighs. “let go. i wanna hear how pretty you sound when you fall apart.”

and when you do—shaking and sobbing through the most overwhelming pleasure you’ve ever felt—he doesn’t stop. he slows, sure, kisses through it, licks up everything you give him with a groan like he’s drunk on it.

then he’s kissing your thighs again. your belly. your trembling hips.

“you did so good for me,” he whispers, crawling up beside you to pull you into his chest. “so fuckin’ good. my perfect girl.”

your legs won’t stop shaking, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps as you clutch chenle’s shirt, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your limbs. you’re dazed—floaty. the kind of blissed-out that makes it hard to speak, let alone think.

he’s holding you gently now, hand smoothing over your back, lips brushing your forehead like he just gave you the sweetest gift in the world.

and then he murmurs it. low and soft and dangerous.

“i’m not done with you.”

you stiffen a little, whining into his shirt. “i—i already—”

“i know,” he says sweetly, kissing the corner of your mouth. “you were perfect. but i didn’t say you could stop.”

your breath catches. his tone isn’t cruel. it’s warm. coaxing. but there’s something firm under it—something that tells you he means it.

his hand slips down again, fingers ghosting over your soaked, sensitive cunt. you jolt.

“still wet,” he whispers. “still warm. so pretty like this—fuck, you squeeze when i talk to you like that.”

you whimper, thighs trying to close on instinct, but he’s already between them again. already settling down with a grin that could ruin anyone.

“you trust me, right?” he says again, eyes locking with yours. “you want me to take care of you?”

you nod, already breathless again, even as your body trembles.

“that’s my girl.”

and then he’s kissing you there again—softer this time, gentler, but it burns now, every brush of his tongue dragging sparks through your nerves. your hips lift without meaning to, legs trembling as he licks slow, careful stripes over your clit.

“so sensitive,” he coos. “you feel everything now, don’t you?”

you nod helplessly, mouth falling open as another soft moan escapes you. it’s too much—you should be done. but the way he’s touching you? the praise? the warm weight of his hands holding your thighs apart, steady and patient and so fucking in control—it makes you want more.

he keeps going, not teasing, not rushing. just loving you. like this is his favorite thing in the world. like he knew you’d take it again. like he knew your body would give in even when your mind said it was too much.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby. look at you,” he murmurs, voice full of warmth and awe. “already shaking, already crying again. and you’re still letting me.”

your eyes are glossy now, and you don’t even realize the tears are back until he lifts his head and kisses one off your thigh.

“fuck, you’re so sweet,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips. “you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

he presses a kiss to your clit, feather-light, and your whole body jolts.

“can you give me one more?” he whispers, smiling up at you. “just one. i’ll make it feel so good, i promise. just one more for me, pretty girl.”

you whine, nodding through the overwhelm, because even if it’s too much—you trust him. and you want it. want him.

his tongue returns with purpose this time, circling your clit, flicking it just right, the angle of his mouth making everything sharper. your hips twitch and your hand flies to his hair, tugging without realizing it.

“that’s it,” he breathes, voice husky and low. “give it to me. i want to feel you come again. i need to.”

and god—when it happens, it’s loud. it’s messy. it’s a sobbed-out moan and a full-body shake, your thighs closing around his head as you come for him a second time, even harder than the first.

he doesn’t stop until you push at him, crying out softly, and even then he kisses your thigh, your mound, your hip—whispering, “you did so good. you’re amazing. i’m so proud of you.”

and when he finally climbs back up beside you, pulling you into his arms again, you bury your face in his neck, still trembling. still reeling.

he presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back.

“you okay?” he whispers.

you nod. and then, barely audible—“thank you.”

his smile is audible in the warmth of his voice.

“anytime, baby.”

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uumiuyu · 2 months ago

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cherry on top | njm

plug!bf!jaemin x f!reader ft. besties shotaro and haechan

summary: jaemin is the perfect boyfriend, but you're starting to get a little nervous about the future of your relationship now that he’s also the town’s perfect plug. with his business getting more demanding, his popularity exploding, and your time together lessening, you come up with a plan to make sure he remembers where home is—not that jaemin would ever even dream of forgetting.

pt. 3 of the strawberry cough universe, can be read alone!

wc: 7.7k 18+ mdni

genre: fluff, smut, slight angst, established relationship

cw: weed use, plug!jaemin, told from both pov’s, jaemin and reader are extremely down bad and in love and are still working on communication, super super sweet, very silly, both just think too much, some misunderstandings, oral (giving), fingering, riding, explicit pinv sex, unprotected though reader is on the pill, a little breeding kink, a lot of praise, marking, possessive language, cockwarming, pet names: angel, baby, pretty

two and a half years is not as long as it has felt.

it’s just a small fraction of how long the average human life is, but it’s been two and a half years since you met jaemin for the first time, and you can confidently say that he’s the love of your life. he’s the perfect lover, and to this day he still rolls all your blunts and lights them, too.

he is as perfect a plug as he is a lover, and you can see that in the way his business has skyrocketed during your time together.

the world of buying and selling weed comes easy to some, but not so much for others.

there’s this idea that going to a plug for your weed fix means you have to already know everything about it, and exactly what you want. it doesn’t help that the average plug is pretty stoic, intimidating even if they don’t mean to be.

as a result, many are too scared to ask questions that might make them look like an inexperienced newbie, or will continue to mooch off their friends instead of actually going to a plug themselves.

in reality, a question or two doesn’t hurt, and yeah, it helps to know what you want, but there’s no shame in not knowing. at least that’s jaemin’s motto when it comes to his business.

he’s kind to all interested in buying regardless of their knowledge level, diligently answering questions about strains and effects, willingly giving recommendations for different customer needs.

customers of all different kinds come to him, and ones who start with him end up loyal returnees based on just how comfortable he makes them.

while you were glued at the hip for the first 2 years of the relationship, in recent months you don’t get to see him as much with how busy he’s become. you used to see him almost every day, and now you’re lucky to even get a day or two with him a week.

he’s worked hard to get here, even being able to quit his day job to focus fully on selling, so as his partner, you’re proud to see him succeed. you don’t mind the time apart.

you exit the elevator, walking down the hallway to his apartment just as a duo of girls are leaving with familiar little brown bags, giggling with hushed whispers.

“did you see the way he smiled at me?” one asks the other before they both erupt into squeals, the sound grating to your ears.

actually, you do mind.

you knew jaemin was the most attractive man you ever met from the second you laid eyes on him, but now everyone knows that. he oozes boyfriend, and you know many of the customers who come daydream about him as theirs. it wouldn’t be the first time you saw a customer of his taking his customer service smile the wrong way.

you wouldn’t call yourself the most jealous person in the world, especially when you and jaemin have established healthy communication after a few incidents of misunderstanding, but it’s hard not to feel some type of way when you know a part of the reason for his increase in business is word of the extremely attractive and gentlemanly plug going around the town.

he makes all people comfortable, just as he did you. you’re so happy that your boyfriend is just that perfect, but a selfish part of you wishes that only you got that experience.

jaemin would never cheat, but the idea of any of those girls wanting to steal your place makes your stomach hurt—not that many even know that the place beside him is taken.

you unlock his door with the spare key he gave you a couple months into the relationship, finding him sat on the couch, looking extra cuddly in a hoodie, glasses sitting low on his face.

he didn’t always wear glasses, but the hard work has worn down his eyes, leading to the new accessory he wears only when he’s extra tired. the glasses make you weak, and you curse inwardly at the fact that those girls from earlier got to see him like this.

he gets up as soon as he catches sight of you, and almost all of the negative thoughts are out the door when you see the loving look he gives you, sweeping you into his arms with the same amount of adoration he always has.

you can’t help but wonder if things will change with time.

“hi there, beautiful,” he greets, tilting his head to give you a sweet kiss, pulling back to take in your face before giving you another. “i missed you, angel,” he murmurs against your lips. you let him guide you back to the couch, grabbing his pipe and lighter before pulling you to sit with him.

you melt into his hold, the familiar clicking of the lighter and smell of burning flower filling your senses. he takes a quick hit, blowing it out to the side before offering it to you.

you shake your head no, burying yourself further into him.

“what’s on your mind, hm?”

curse your attentive boyfriend and his ability to always tell when there’s something wrong with you.

his hand comes behind your head, digging his fingers into your scalp and neck as he rubs firm circles into your tense muscles, massaging away your tension.

“it’s nothing, baby,” you sigh, melting further into his touch, sighing out in relief as he works his magic.

“are you sure?” his eyes bore into you, his lips pouting. he uses his grip on the back of your neck to bring you into another sweet kiss. “we talk about our feelings, don’t we?

you sigh again. “we do..”

yet you can’t bring yourself to bring it up right now, especially seeing as he looks even more tired than you are. your job ends when you clock out, but his follows him home.

“work has just been a lot… the owner has really upped the advertising so we’ve been getting a lot more customers,” you explain. you aren’t lying, there’s just more to it.

he hums in understanding, bringing his hand down to rub at your shoulders, his thumb putting pressure into the tense joints. you hiss at the brief pain before it goes away, your shoulder relaxing.

“you know, you could always quit your job. i’ll take care of you, baby,” he coos, and you waive him off with a laugh.

“you’re silly.”

“i’m serious!”

“i’m not gonna do that to you. plus, how am i gonna pay rent?” you shake your head, patting his hand on your back as a thank you for the massage before shifting to wrap your arms around him. you lean your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, letting it calm you.

“i’m good with the way things are, i just need to recharge,” you sigh. you don’t know if that statement is more for convincing him or yourself.

he kisses the top of your head, voice softening into a sweet whisper. “well, good thing you’re dating a plug,” he jokes, eyebrows wiggling. you can’t help but let out a giggle, feeling your heart lighten just a bit.

“actually, give me a hit of that,” you point to his pipe. he laughs and obliges, as he always does.

and with the few hits you do take, jaemin holding the pipe for you, the tightness in your chest unravels.

there’s nothing to worry about.

it’s different when you don’t have your loving boyfriend wrapped around you. nowadays, that’s most of the time.

“trouble in paradise?”

“are you sure you’re the one who should be asking that?”

“hey! we’re way past that.”

you laugh at the back and forth from your friends in the group video call consisting of you, shotaro, and haechan—a very unlikely trio, but one you cherish.

after unintentionally causing trouble in your and jaemin’s relationship a year ago, haechan made it a point to make it known that he’s only interested in you platonically, though pushing his friend’s buttons is always a pleasure.

with his efforts, he’s quickly wormed his way into your life as a good friend, though your boyfriend is still the tiniest bit wary about you two being alone together.

you just need a few opinions, and having someone from your side (shotaro) and jaemin’s side (haechan) seems to be the right way to get some good insight.

“anyways, what’s wrong?” shotaro asks worriedly. “i thought things have been good.”

“yeah, aside from barely seeing you two nowadays because jaemin’s so goddamn busy, the guys and i have been saying we’re expecting the wedding invites soon,” haechan jokes, but he quickly backtracks after seeing your deadpan expression.

“it’s kind of stupid…” you start, which shotaro denies with a reassuring shake of his head. “..but i think we’re going through a turning point in our relationship.”

“is he acting different now that he’s some big shot weed guy of the town?” haechan asks with a tone of genuine annoyance.

“no!” you deny right away. “it’s me… things are perfect when we’re together, but when we’re apart, i think i just get in my head and it freaks me out.”

they encourage you to continue, listening attentively.

“i just- he’s so perfect, and now, everyone is seeing that. but don’t get me wrong, i’m happy for him! proud even, he’s worked so hard to get to this point,” you sigh. you really are happy for him, and you hate the thought of dampening his success. but you can’t help the way you feel.

“i’m just wondering where my place is in all of this.”

haechan is retorting in a split second.

“dude, that guy adores you. i swear he was going to kill me when he thought i was trying to get at you,” haechan tries.

“i know…”

the jumble of thoughts seems to untangle, and you finally can put your worries into words, pouring your heart out to your buddies.

everything is good right now—more than good— but you want things to always be good. you want to be with jaemin for the rest of your life.

but now you’re left with the question of if he would want that. what can you offer besides verbal and physical expression of love and your presence, especially when you don’t see him?

you don’t really know much about weed other than what he’s shown you, and you can’t really buy him the most elaborate gifts when most of your cafe salary goes to rent.

you know he loves you more than anything, but the romantic interest had been there since day one, so you weren’t ever friends before things got physical and turned into love. you’re still learning more and more with each day.

it’s been a while since you’ve felt this sort of uncertainty, with jaemin being the most reassuring person ever, but you can’t help the anxious thoughts.

“i know he loves me, guys, and that’s not the problem,” your voice shakes. “what should i do to make sure it stays that way?“

the guys are quiet for a second as you conclude your thoughts, wanting to be careful with their words as it has set in that this is more serious than they thought.

shotaro speaks up first, his tone soft and comforting. “i really don’t think jaemin is the kind of guy who bases his love on what you can contribute to him—and don’t base your self worth on a man, you’re amazing.”

haechan agrees. “exactlyy, and trust, if it were that way he would’ve dropped me and the guys a long time ago. he does a lot for us.”

“he knows where home is,” shotaro adds, and haechan chuckles as you roll your eyes. the humor is welcome when your mind is in shambles.

you know their arguments are right. but it’s not that he’s making you question your self worth, it’s not about you as a person—it’s you as his lover, a role you cherish so much.

you don’t want him to meet someone who could offer him the world, while all you have is your love for him.

you want to contribute to him, you want to make him just as happy as he’s made you. you just don’t know how to go about that.

your friends’ words provide a little comfort, however, that love itself is enough.

a few weeks fly by as your hold onto your friends’ affirmations about your relationship, allowing you to go about your life without that worry at the front of your mind.

scratch that, it’s definitely at the front of your mind, and a genius idea comes to you. he might know where home is, but what can you do to make sure he doesn’t forget? if you don’t know what more you can do for him, maybe you can learn.

with jaemin no longer taking up most of your free time, you search up different ways to show someone you love them.

1. cooking your lover a home cooked meal

you look into some recipes—maybe you can make him a nice home cooked meal. as you experiment, the flavors don’t quite taste right, but practice makes perfect, right?

2. relieving their stress with some a relaxing massage

you watch some massage tutorials— jaemin’s always doing that for you, so maybe it’s time to return the favor. haechan and renjun come to the cafe you work at pretty often as their own jobs are nearby, so you practice on them when it’s not too busy. they do their best to direct you, but it’s a bit discouraging to hear more grunts of pain than sighs of relief.

3. learning more about and participating in their interests

you’ve never been the best at rolling blunts, always buying pre-rolls from shotaro or opting for smoking from a piece before you met jaemin. he’s always rolling for you and all his customers, and you wonder how he’d feel if you surprised him. you ask shotaro for pointers over the phone and try to get more insight into any plug duties that might help you help jaemin.

you’re motivated at first, but it’s still a little tough given that jaemin is perfect at quite. literally. everything.

you? you’re doing your best.

you tried to cook him a nice recipe you found online, but you just ended up setting off the fire alarm in your own building, gaining some glares from your neighbors. he ended up coming over with a home cooked meal of his own.

another time, you tried to give him a nice shoulder massage, but you ended up pressing deeply into a sore spot in his shoulder blade that had him jolting away from you. he tried to assure you he was fine, but you saw the way his face would shift in discomfort whenever he moved his arm.

you tried rolling some joints for jaemin, surprising him when he’d come back with your somewhat (?) okay rolling skills, but your joints tended to be a little too loose, filling his apartment with smoke way too quickly and only lasting about 2 puffs each before they were too burnt to continue.

jaemin would always pull his perfectly tight rolls out once yours were finished with a sweet smile you could never say no to.

you tried your best to use newfound weed knowledge to keep up with his weed spiels, but it never lasts long before he’s asking you about other things.

nothing seems to be clicking.

another weekly visit flies by, and you kiss him goodbye as you leave to head to your shift from his place. you won’t see him for another week, and you sigh as you think of the week without him and your failed attempts.

you’ll just have to leave things the way they are for now, not that you’ll stop trying to show your love in different ways.

on jaemin’s side, something feels off.

he always knows when there’s something wrong with you, and he’s felt this since you claimed it was just the fatigue of work.

you’re his favorite person, and he knows that’s not all. just because he doesn’t get to see you all the time anymore doesn’t mean he won’t still notice the smallest details about you.

you’ve declined his calls a few times recently. that’s not really an issue, you have your own life, but he can’t help but notice it’s a lot more often than usual. he just wants to hear your voice, but maybe he’s just a little sensitive since he’s missing you. he’s been a bit stressed with everything and just the sound of your voice calms him.

you’ve also seemed to be texting someone a lot, letting out quiet, yet noticeable to him, sighs, as if you’re unhappy about whatever topic is at hand.

he remembers you told him your best friend was going through some shit with this guy she’s talking to, apparently also a plug, but who’s super bad with emotions. that could never be jaemin, but maybe you’re helping her with that—you’re so kind and empathetic, after all.

he thinks it’s touching when you try to roll for him, too, though he’s confused about the sudden interest. your blunts are a bit misshapen, but just as cute as you. you’ve been a bit more curious about his business, and he doesn’t mind when the conversation turns that way, always happy to explain.

you talk about some things he’s never explained, though. or maybe he did, but was just too high at the time to remember.

whatever, he’d rather hear about what’s going on with you anyways.

you’ve been a bit touchier with him, too, not that he minds in the slightest. he loves when you’re clingy with him. in fact, he wishes you could cling to him 24/7. you’re so cute when you try to give him massages, even if you are a little clumsy with it.

you’ve been improving , but you don’t need to do that for him. you could sit next to him (or on him, preferably) and he’s already more than content.

he pushes down an ache in his chest at the thought of not seeing you for a week, but his schedule is so unpredictable nowadays, he doesn’t want to burden you into conforming to his time when he doesn’t even know what time he has.

there’s no one jaemin thinks about more than you. you’ve helped him experience so many different emotions, good and bad, and even through the bad you’ve always navigated them together.

he never knew he could love someone as much as he loves you, never knew he could be jealous or anxious, yet at so much peace when you reassure him he’s the only one for you.

he’s done really well pushing out the negative thoughts. you’ll tell him what’s wrong in time, you always do. he just has to wait patiently.

a buzzing on the counter alerts him, and when he goes to grab his phone, he’s confused.

it isn’t his phone, it’s yours, and there’s a text from someone he thought he made peace with a long time ago.

lee donghyuck, 3:18pm:

i’m probably gonna come tomorrow on my lunch break, but please go easy on me this time. my body still hurts </3

he grabs his car keys.

“have you seen my phone?” you ask your coworker, sungchan, but the tall man just shakes his head.

“i haven’t seen you on it since you started your shift,” he responds, shrugging.

you’re checking around the front counter for your phone, not knowing where it possibly could have gone, when the bell at the front door chimes to let you know there’s a customer.

you look up to welcome them, but you’re surprised to see your boyfriend swiftly striding up to the front. he’s smiling at you sweetly, but something’s off.

there’s an underlying tension you don’t recognize.

he holds your phone out to you, and you gasp, accepting it gratefully. “oh! sorry, i didn’t realize i left it there. thank you, jaem.”

he nods, but his expression is still tense.

it makes your stomach sink.

was he upset that he had to bring your phone over? you know your jaemin wouldn’t get mad over something like this, but maybe he’s stressed. maybe there was something important today, and having to bring your phone was another stress added.

he notices your face fall, and it makes his chest ache. “it’s okay, can you come over after your shift, actually? i think we need to talk,” he states as calmly as possible, putting up what he thinks is his normal self.

he doesn’t realize you know him just as much as he knows you, and that this jaemin is not his normal self. this, and that saying “we need to talk” almost always means something bad, at least in your experience.

while you normally would say yes right away, his invitation fills you with anxiety.

“um.. sure, okay,” you respond after a beat that jaemin does not miss.

he feels his heart drop.

he knows you don’t have plans tonight, you told him before you left.

when have you ever not jumped at the invitation to come over, especially now that you don’t see each other all time time? he knows that you just left, but now he wonders if you’ve gotten used to your time without him. if you prefer it.

he knows he could never get used to time without you.

he bids you goodbye and heads home to figure out what needs to be sent out today, but can’t focus. he feels hollow.

you’ve been through a lot together, and he genuinely feels like he’s always come out a better person and your relationship has only grown stronger.

but what is happening?

he’d come to the cafe driven by a burning fire and need to confront you about the text, but as soon as he saw you, it all melted away into an anxious simmer. as much as he still is internally freaking out about the text he saw, he just can’t bring himself to think badly of you.

there has to be a reason. he’s more concerned that there’s something he might’ve done.

the two of you talk about your feelings, and that’s what you’ll do.

he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping. he’s never really felt unsure about himself, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t always know if he’s doing the right thing.

all jaemin knows is that he loves you. he trusts you.

the rest of your shift actually flies by faster than you hoped it would, and you stay a little longer to clean the kitchen before heading over to jaemin’s.

you find yourself at his door in no time, the weight of his spare key in your hand and the world on your shoulders. you stand there for a while, dread circling in your stomach.

what does jaemin want to talk about? it must be super serious given his demeanor earlier.

you’ve been working so hard to try and express your affections to him, but now you’re terrified that it had the opposite effect. you don’t even want to think of the possibility of him wanting to break u—

“angel?”

his voice breaks you from your thoughts, the apartment door now open with your boyfriend standing in front of you. “are you coming in?”

the shock of him opening the door before you could has you short-circuiting, and you just nod and file in, walking down the hall with jaemin trailing behind you.

his mind is also in disarray.

he could hear you coming as you walked down the hallway, the rhythm of your footsteps and the jingling of your keys being unmistakable. he waited at the door, ready to greet you as always, but you stayed out there.

you have his key, you have him to open the door, so why weren’t you coming in? what was making you hesitate? it’s taking everything in him not to think of the worst.

the two of you are uncharacteristically silent as you stand in the living room, the space between you far too wide and cold. you two stare at each other for a few seconds, expressions stiff. your words get jumbled as you both break at once.

“is everything okay, jaem?”

“please don’t break up with me.”

your eyes widen as you take in what he just said, and his widen, too, as if he can’t believe he just said that. you’re completely caught off guard, to say the least.

“break up with you? jaemin, why the hell would you think i want to break up?” you ask exasperatedly. this is the complete opposite of what you wanted to happen.

“i saw your text…” he replies, a sad veil over his face, his eyes… watering?

“text..?” you quickly open your phone, checking your latest messages, and there you see 2 missed texts from haechan.

lee donghyuck, 3:18pm:

i’m probably gonna come tomorrow on my lunch break, but please go easy on me this time. my body still hurts </3

lee donghyuck, 7:21pm:

actually, im not coming. u should just practice on your man and maybe talk to him while you’re at it :p

oh god. fucking haechan.

of course that first message very clearly gives the wrong idea. you direct your attention back to jaemin to explain, but he’s already closed the distance between you two.

he takes your phone, placing it down before holding both your hands in his.

“you know what? it’s okay. i-i can pretend this didn’t happen, just promise me you’ll stop seeing him. i can’t guarantee i won’t do anything to him, and all our friends will probably join me, but please, please don’t bre—”

“jaemin!” you cut off his rambling, freeing your hands to place them over his cheeks, pulling his face to you. “i’m not breaking up with you, and nothing’s happening with haechan, i swear.”

he seems to be relieved, just slightly, but he leans into your touch, his eyes still holding so much sadness. “but what about the text? and you keep declining my calls, texting someone so seriously…”

you sigh. this whole thing has backfired.

“let me explain.”

the two of you sit on the couch as you detail all your efforts of the past month or so, and jaemin has at least one hand on you the entire time, his nervous energy dissipating with each revelation about his worries.

“you’ve been doing all that for me?” he asks, lips set in a pout. “why? you know you don’t have to do anything extra, i love you the way you are.”

you intertwine your hand with his, playing with his fingers.

“jaemin, you’re perfect. you have a growing business with tons of people who see that, too. things have been changing, but you still do so much for me, for us. i’ve been questioning if i was adding anything to your life, if i could do anything for you..” you see his jaw tense slightly at that confession, but you continue.

“everyone wants you, but know i want you the most—i need you. i can’t always be with you to show you my feelings, so i wanted to make sure you know i love you the most—i was just trying to figure out how.”

jaemin feels like his heart is going to explode. he immediately gathers you into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “you did all of that because you love me?”

“yeah, you make me so happy, i want you to be happy, too,” you reply as best you can in his strong hold. “i know it’s only been two years, but i really can’t imagine my life without you.”

he pulls back from you, gliding his hands down your arms to hold your hands again. he presses them to his lips. “you don’t know how happy that makes me, angel, really.”

“really?”

“of course, is it okay if i speak now?” you nod, attentive to what he has to say.

“one, trying new things is always great. but if it’s to make me happy, doing all of that with me instead of for me would make me even happier,” he insists in a lightly scolding voice.

“i’d love to cook with you and you can always ask me for weed information. anything—even if you already asked a million times.”

his eyes turn a little darker. “but you’ve been practicing massages on haechan?”

you nod—you should’ve known that he might not react well to that, but to be fair, you didn’t think he would find out, especially when distracted by what would’ve been your euphorically stress-relieving master massages.

“well, practice on me. no need to have these pretty hands on any other man, yeah?”

he closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if trying to erase the image from his head. “the thought of it makes me sick.. and remember what we talked about when it comes to being alone with haechan?”

“renjun was there, too,” you reply weakly.

“i’m gonna pretend it was just renjun, then,” he smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. you agree nonetheless.

“two, there’s no way you don’t know how much you add to my life, baby…” his expression softens.

“you are my life, angel—i’ve never wanted to be anything more than i’ve wanted to be yours. even with the business and everything.. i wouldn’t have ever had the courage to quit my job and do this plug thingfull time if not for you supporting me every step of the way.”

you feel like you could cry, but you hold it together as you let jaemin affirm you.

“trust me, pretty, if you want me to be happy, then just let me make you happy,” his lips pull into the smile—his real smile— that you fell in love with. “nothing gives me more joy than that.”

you lean into to kiss him, almost in tears, but you frown as he pulls back, dodging your lips.

“wait, one last thing, if you kiss me now i don’t think i can stop,” he quickly explains, clutching his chest dramatically. you laugh, but he takes on a more serious tone, his eyes filled with warmth and resolution.

“i hope you know being separated from you is just as hard for me… i don’t want to treat you like you have to be at my beck and call, catering to a schedule i don’t even know most of the time.”

you’re about to tell him you don’t mind when he drops shocking news.

“so i’ve decided i’m going to move.”

“huh?”

“and i’d love it if you’d move in with me.”

your jaw drops.

you were already confused at what moving had to do with this, but did he really just ask you to move in with him?

you search for any sign that he’s joking, but he’s 100% serious.

“wait—really?”

“yeah, i’ve actually been wanting to get a bigger place now that i can afford it, but i definitely took it more seriously once you told me how stressful work has gotten.”

your heart lurches. he’s been thinking of this all this time?

“trust me, angel, you can do whatever you want, but just know i’ll take care of you.”

his smile falters a bit as you pause in your response, second guessing his hasty invite. maybe he should’ve waited a bit. “you don’t have to say yes, i just tho—”

“—no!” you interrupt him.

“jaem, i’d love to… if you’ll have me.”

his smile stretches wide across his face, his eyes lighting up in pure delight. he pulls you towards him, finally closing the distance between you, and your lips gravitate together like magnets.

you pull back briefly, and he chases you, but you put a hand on his chest. “i’m still going to work though.”

he laughs, bringing his face back to yours, stopping short an inch from your lips with his own pulled into a sweet smile. “whatever you want, baby.”

with that, he closes the distance once more, melding his lips with yours, warm and soft. you could never get tired of this feeling.

while you’re basking in the intimate moment, jaemin deepens the kiss, the warm feeling quickly turning hotter. your lips part slightly to allow him access, and he hums as he explores your mouth with both practiced ease and a new excitement.

his hands move south, trailing down your waist to your hips. his fingers slip under your shirt, squeezing at the flesh on your waist.

when you separate, you see a look in his deep brown eyes you know all too well.

“you know… maybe there’s one way you could make me happy.”

you know exactly what he wants—in fact, you want it even more.

it’s been a while since you properly slept together, and now that you’re in the right mind, you’re definitely in the right mood.

“wanna do something for nana, angel?” he purrs, voice dropping an octave. he knows you get weak when he uses that voice.

“yeah-” you swallow. “anything, baby.”

he pats his lap, and you’re sliding to your knees.

jaemin is a giver—that you’ve known since the first time he gave you some edibles on the house. this goes for the bedroom as well, obviously, with him loving you as a pillow princess and knowing how to treat you right.

but he loves the look of you taking him in with that sweet mouth of yours, and you know sometimes, especially after a tough day, he just wants to sit back and guide you to do all the work on him, to watch how you fall apart from a different angle.

jaemin scoots forward slightly as you palm at the tent in his sweats. he groans as you make contact, clearly just as pent up as you are.

you tuck your fingers into his waistband, pulling slightly as he lifts his hips, allowing his hardening cock to spring free. you drool at the sight, pretty as always.

he grabs one of your hands, bringing up to his mouth, grinning as he spits into it. “be good for me, baby.. take what’s yours.”

his words send shockwaves through you, and immediately you’re springing into action, pumping his cock a few times using his spit to glide smoothly. it stands tall and angry, and all you want in that moment is to taste.

you bring your lips down, suckling at his tip, eyes trained on his as he lets out strangled gasps. it tastes like skin and salt and him, and you want more. taking the whole head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around, just to see the way his eyebrows furrow and eyelashes flutter.

“you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he groans, and you reply by taking more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as your hand pumps at the parts of him your mouth can’t quite take.

“my beautiful girl with a- fuck—beautiful mouth, taking me so well.” the praise has you clenching around nothing. “h-how’d you get so good at that, hm? god, i’m so fucking lucky, baby,” he coos.

you love knowing the effect you have on him, your eyes darting up to see him with his lip between his teeth, pupils blown out. you watch as his built chest heaves, the veins in his neck strained against his skin as you continue to bob your head up and down.

the sigh is addicting, and for a second you think you could do this forever even with your stiffening jaw, but jaemin is a giver, and he can’t help but want you to feel even luckier.

he grips the back of your hair to ease you off of him, and you whine in confusion. he pulls you up to your feet and slots you, still standing, by the waist between his legs.

his fingers slip under your shirt, dancing along your soft skin, his eyes racking down your form as he his licks his lips. “we can do that another time, i just need to be in you when i cum tonight, okay?”

he hooks a hand around the back of your thigh, fingers dancing along the inner seam of your pants, dangerously close to the spot between your legs that aches more than ever for his touch.

he moves his hand slowly up your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. his other hand trails down from your waist into the waistbands of your pants and underwear.

“let me take these off of you, yeah?” you’re already pulling your shirt over your head as he shimmies your pants off of you, pulling his down to drop at his ankles as well.

he grabs the backs of your thighs, pulling you to straddle him. “take your seat, baby.”

and take your seat you do, thighs spread over him as his hands explore the expanse of your skin, his touch feverish yet so trained—he knows your body like the back of his hand, but he could never get enough.

he puts one hand on your neck, trailing it down your chest and stomach until it’s right on your core. he dips his fingers between your folds, humming delightedly as he spreads your wetness around.

you gasp as he circles your clit, your hands gripping on to his shoulders. “so wet just from sucking me off? and just one touch to have you falling apart?” your head falls, giving him perfect access to your shoulder, where he runs his lips across, sucking marks into the soft skin.

“of course you are, you’re my perfect girl after all..” he breathes into your skin, two fingers dipping into your entrance without warning. you moan out at the sensation, fingers digging into his shoulders as he starts to thrust them in and out of you, his palm rubbing at your clit with every motion.

your hips move against his hand, letting his fingers guide your whole body, shivering as you plant you wrap your arms around him and plant your head into his shoulders. he adds another finger, stretching you out for him, and you bite down on his shoulder to ground yourself.

he hisses at the feeling of your teeth on his skin, and you move your head to repeat this on another sliver of skin just to hear it again.

“come on,” he growls, feeling the way you clench on him.

you move your head back to look at him, gasping and heaving under the magic of his fingers. you know you’re close. “j-jaem, wanna cum with you inside—please.”

his lips turn into a pout before he kisses you roughly, his hand not stopping. he pulls back just enough to breathe onto your lips. “you’ll get that too, now give this one to me.”

he angles his fingers just right, his fingers pistoning in and out of you like crazy, palm still digging at your clit. the wet sounds reverberate around the room along with your cries.

the pressure builds and builds until he has you falling apart with a shriek, your thighs trembling as he holds you with a steady arm around you. your head is down as you catch your breath, and you watch as he removes his fingers from you, glistening with your arousal.

you feel empty at the loss, but as you watch him use your arousal to coat his raging member, pumping up and down his cock to get every last bit on there, you’re filled with an even bigger urge to make him happy.

“i want it jaem—let me—”

“do it, baby,” he pants, ready to take what you’re giving him.

with one hand anchoring yourself on his shoulder, you shift up slightly, guiding his tip to your waiting entrance. he helps you, letting his tip catch onto your entrance before helping you lower yourself.

with each inch, you whine at the delicious stretch, breathing in and out until you’ve completely sheathed him. your cunt clenches around him, pulsing in anticipation.

“you can do it, angel, i’m right here for you.” his encouragement has you lifting yourself up on shaky thighs, bringing yourself down on him with a slapping noise. the two of you moan like a chorus as you go again, and again, until you’re bouncing on him, moving your hips without restraint.

his hands grip the back of your ass to help guide you, and god, seeing how good you can make jaemin feel is just as good from this angle as from below.

his eyebrows are knit together, his lips are swollen and slick with spit, and his eyes roll back in pleasure when they aren’t shooting hearts at you.

your thighs burn, and you know you’ll be so sore tomorrow, but it’s all so worth it when you can see him like this.

“love when you do this, angel,” he groans, feeling it from the top of his head to his toes. “love when you move like you’re claiming me, l-like you’re trying to say i’m yours.”

your thighs falter just a bit, and jaemin knows you well enough to know when it’s his time. he readjusts his grip on you, putting his mouth to your ear. “because i am yours.”

with a tight grip, he stops you from moving, letting you hover with his tip tucked inside. he plants his feet into the ground, his breath hot against your skin.

“and you’re mine.”

the way he snaps his hips into yours almost knocks the breath out of you, and you hold onto him for dear life, crying out at the onslaught of pleasure as he slams into you again and again.

your lips reattach themselves to his shoulders, his neck, just under his chin—anywhere you can find to leave your mark on him.

“f-fuck, i’m close,” he grunts, his thrusts still not faltering. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up, yeah?”

you know his grip is going to leave bruises on your thighs, and you want that. you want a reminder of him on you. in you.

“yes, inside, jaemin, fuck. please—inside,” you cry out, not fully making sense and still unable to take anything but what he’s giving you with the way he uses his strength on you.

his smiles, and you almost feel hypnotized.

“yeah? you want me to fill you up? keep my cum in you?” you can feel yourself skydiving into your second orgasm of the night at his words.

“fuck, it’s perfect—you’re perfect.” his eyes gloss over. “my pretty girl in my house with my cum inside. maybe put a baby or two in you, let you have all of me.”

realistically, you’re on the pill and the chances are low, but the thought has you seeing white. the thought of living with jaemin, waking up and going to sleep with him, of him filling you up, and everyone knowing that the spot next to him is no one’s but yours.

it has you hurling over the edge, crying and gasping as he still drives into you through your orgasm, chasing his own. your legs are numb, your cunt is spent, and all you can manage are cries of jaemin’s name and yes.

his hips snap up a few more times before stuttering, and he pushes himself up into you one last time, stilling as he spills into you, his cum leaking down around the base of his cock.

he lowers both of you, and you feel yourself go boneless against him, absolutely exhausted. the two of you just sit like that for a bit, his hand rubbing up and down your back as you cling to him like a koala.

“never want you thinking how i feel about you will ever change, okay?” he says, voice soft yet full of resolution.

“okay, jaemin,” you breathe into his hair. “i love you.”

“and i love you.”

you don’t know how much time passes, simply basking in the feeling of his skin on yours, his softening member sitting comfortably in you.

somewhere along the way he pulls out and jaemin cleans the both of you up, wrapping you in his clothes before snuggling back into the couch. marks in blossoming red and purple tones scatter his neck and shoulders, and you’re sure yours look the same way.

you watch with lazy eyes as he rolls a perfectly tight little joint, just enough for a few hits each, lighting it before holding it to your lips to take a drag. he takes a hit, too, letting you decompress before you both start talking again.

you talk about the furniture you’ll have at your new place, the way you’ll decorate the walls, the absolute must-have patio for smoking, the house warming party you’ll have with dishes cooked by the two of you.

any lingering heaviness disappears along with the smoke around you.

two and a half years is not as long as it has felt. it’s just a small fraction of how long the average human life is, but it’s also only a fraction of the future you’re building with jaemin.

as much as they seem to be, you know things won’t always be perfect, but with your perfect boy beside you, you know everything will be okay.

end.

a/n: HELLOOOO if you've been around since strawberry cough was first posted you are a real one... i am aware my writing style has definitely developed a lot since writing the first two parts, but i hope my love for my first plug!jaem shows :') the idea of him was what inspired this blog in the first place so it was nice to write another not so serious but kind of serious fluffy smutty 3rd part.

i am really not sure if i'll be writing more for this universe in particular, at least jaemin-centric, but hopefully will have other stoner/plug content for him + other members!!! also see if u can see a little cameo of one of my other plug!members... ;)

feedback and shares are ALWAYS appreciated and really encourage me to keep writing (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ

-coco ♡

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uumiuyu · 3 months ago

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party 4 u | sjn

dj!ex!johnny x f!reader

summary: your ex left years ago to chase his dj dreams, taking your heart with him. now, johnny’s made it big and is back for a hometown show, except this time you make sure he takes all of you.

(or: he only threw this party for you.)

wc: 3.3k

genre: angst, smut, exes-to-lovers 18+ mdni

cw: unprotected pinv sex (no </3), mirror sex, backshots!, yearning, manhandling, sex in a dressing room, fingering, nipple play, possessive johnny, dirty talk, pet names: baby, love

the music is blasting, you can feel the beat of the bass in your chest, and people all around you are moving to the music.

you look up at the one they all surround, and you see him.

you haven’t seen johnny in years. he hasn’t been here in years.

he looks good—hair falling behind his ears, headphones framing his face, tattoos adorning his exposed arms. some you recognize and some you don’t.

you shouldn’t be here, not when he walked away from you all those years ago to chase his dreams.

you don’t blame him—he really had something going with his budding dj career, and the sheer crowd at his hometown show today is living proof of that.

that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt back then, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt now.

when your friend sent you the post saying he was coming to town for a show, you couldn’t even see the account—you had him blocked. you’d heard he’d made it big, seen some clips, but you never let yourself indulge.

against your better judgement, you unblocked him, and indulge you did, taking in all the content you’d missed over the years—his travels, friends, highs, lows—everything he’d posted showing how he’d been doing in his time away from you.

and god, he looked happy—like he didn’t think of you nearly as much as you tried not to think about him.

you’re happy, in a way, but he’s always lingered in the back of your mind, hanging onto your subconscious like a vice.

so why the hell are you here?

maybe you were hoping that coming here tonight could help you let go—that maybe, just maybe, if you saw just how far of a distance you’d grown apart with your own eyes, you’d be able to close your chapter with him forever.

but as you watch him sway to the music, a soft smile on his face as he scans the crowd’s reactions to the magic he works on the turntable, you know you’ve made a mistake coming here.

you should’ve never unblocked him, never bought this ticket, never come over here. it’s stupid, but you can’t bring yourself to look away.

you linger by the exit, but stay for the rest of his set.

and as he thanks the crowd for a great night, you feel your entire body jolt as he looks straight in your direction.

there’s no way he could’ve seen you, not from this far, but the way his whole body freezes is too noticeable. quick, but noticeable. he resumes his grateful smile, waving goodbye to the roaring crowd as you turn to leave.

you rush out the door, cheers of “encore! encore!” drowning out behind you. the muffled music starts back up through the walls.

you let out a heavy sigh as you walk away with an even heavier heart. after tonight, you’ll go back to trying to forget him, though any progress you’d made was probably undone.

so much for closure.

a call of your name in a voice all too familiar stops you in your tracks.

you turn around slowly, scared of who you’re going to see. but you know exactly who it is. that same deep voice that called your name with so much love until it didn’t—how could you ever forget?

and when you finally look at him, it feels like everything’s stopped. you can’t even hear the music anymore, not over the sound of your own heart racing.

“johnny.”

he’s catching his breath. did he run over here? what about his encore? how did he see you from all the way over there?

you have so many questions, yet you can say nothing more than his name.

“come with me.”

he grabs your hand, leading you back to the side entrance you assume he came out from, and you let him. the second you feel his hand in yours again, any resistance you could’ve had dissipates.

when he doesn’t feel you fighting his hold, he interweaves his fingers with yours, and oh, how you missed this feeling. you could tell the feeling of his hands on yours with your eyes closed.

you can hear the music through the walls again, and he leads you to a random dressing room. you still don’t know what to say to him, even as he clicks the door shut.

you don’t get the chance to speak.

in a second, you’re up against the door, his lips on yours—it’s messy, hungry, greedy, as if he’s trying to eat you whole.

your first instinct is to push him away, to ask him why he’s doing this after all this time, but you don’t. you can’t, not when having his lips against yours feels so right. it’s the feeling you’ve been missing, only appearing in your memories and dreams.

he explores your mouth as if he knows it like the back of his hand—like he never forgot it.

so you kiss him back with just as much force, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers threading through his short locks, gripping them as if he’d disappear if you let him go.

he groans into your mouth at your reciprocation, pressing his body even tighter against yours. you shiver at how firm his body feels against yours. it was one thing to see him up there, but being caged between those arms you couldn’t keep your eyes of is another. he’s always been big, but he’s definitely bulked up since the last time you saw him.

one of his hands makes its way to your waist, down your hip, and back to your ass, giving a light squeeze. he trails it down, hooking it behind your knee as he raises your leg to wrap around him, slotting himself between your legs.

you can feel how hard he is, aching against the confine of his perfectly fitting jeans. he rocks against you slightly, your mouths still melded in a heated embrace, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth at the feeling.

it feels like there’s a fire in your stomach, but there’s also a giddy feeling—like butterflies fluttering around.

you can still get a reaction out of him. he still wants you, even if you can only see it from the way his body reacts to you. for now, that’s okay.

you move your hips to meet his eagerly, and with your arms still gripped around his neck, his other hand falls to your other thigh, lifting you into his arms. your mouth separates from his in shock at the feeling of your being lifted into the air, clinging tighter to him so you won’t fall. you’re both breathless, but his mouth chases yours, settling right back into a deep kiss.

your ass lands on gently on the vanity table jutting out from the wall, and as johnny parts from you, a trail of saliva separating your lips, you finally get a good look at him. the lights on the mirror behind you illuminate him.

he’s grown so much. you can see the way his face has lost the roundness it had in your younger years and the slight bags under his eyes, yet he’s still the same johnny you loved.

he seems to be taking you in, too, his eyes moving between your eyes, and back down to your lips. his hands bunch up the sides of your shirt, letting his hands run over the bare skin of your waist. you shudder as his fingers dip into the waistband of your pants, not quite reaching as far in as you’d like them to.

he tugs your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra from behind you with practice, and as he removes your bra, he breathes out in awe.

“fuck, you’re just as beautiful as i remember.”

you don’t get to reply before he drags you off the table, flipping you around in a flash. your hands move to steady yourself against the table, bent over slightly with johnny pressed up against you.

you look up and see the two of you in the mirror, and immediately you’re clenching at the thought of what you’ll see him doing to you. he runs his hands up your chest, loving the way your tits look in his hands, his fingers brushing your nipples carefully.

he watches the way your expression twists with every pinch and flick of his fingers, his mouth coming down on your neck. his warm breath fans along your skin before he’s leaving deepening kisses along your neck and shoulders, every so often nipping harder in a way that you know will leave marks.

you want him to leave marks, you want reminders of him to come.

you press your backside against him, whining out pathetically. “johnny, please.”

he obliges you right away, knowing exactly what you want. he’s always known exactly what you want. he wastes no time tugging your pants and soaked underwear down, and you gasp at the feeling of his fingers sliding between your folds, coating his fingers in your juices.

“i’ve got you, baby,” he mutters, mouth falling back on your shoulder, and your head dips at the feeling. he runs his fingers up and down your slit, dancing around your entrance, before carefully teasing a finger into you. you gasp at the feeling of his long digit easing into you, feeling each knuckle until its to the hilt.

he feels you clench around him, and after he slides his finger right back out to the tip, he dips back in with another finger in tow. mewls of pleasure leave your lips as he scissors his digits in you, stretching you just right, picking you apart like he always did.

with the way his other hand snakes around your front to toy around with your clit, you know he wants you to fall apart. you want him closer, to fill you up to the brim, but you know he won’t do it unless you cum first. he’d always made you cum first.

you move your hips in times with his hands, knowing this has to go exactly as he wants it to, and you’re okay with that. you’re more than okay with that—trusting your body into his hands.

he thrusts his fingers in and out of you in time with his swipes over your clit, and you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening as the seconds pass.

you finally gain the strength to tilt your head up just enough to see your reflection, and when you make eye contact with johnny through the mirror, his gaze dark and fixed on you, you’re finished.

“go ahead, baby,” he instructs, and you fall apart in his hands, mouth parted in an oh as the knot unravels, legs closing around his hands as he works you through your orgasm. you can barely keep your eyes open with the way he still plunges his fingers in and out of you, fighting through the grip your clenching pussy and closed legs have on his hands.

he finally pulls his fingers out of you and you collapse against the table, supported by one of his arms wrapping around your middle to keep your legs from completely giving out.

he brings his free hand, the one he pulled out from your cunt, to his mouth, and you cry out as his tongue darts out, lapping up your juices from his fingers, his eyes still trained on yours. it lights another fire in you.

with some newfound strength, you reach behind you, palming at the painfully hard tent in his jeans, trying to blindly fumble with the buttons of his pants. you don’t care how desperate you look, you need him inside of you, now.

a smirk lights his face as he watches you fumble with his pants, his own hand moving down to take care of it for you, unbuttoning his pants with ease and pulling them down just enough to untuck his raging member from his underwear. “you want me that bad?”

you want him so badly, more than anything right now, and you let him know that.

“yes, yes—johnny, please fuck me.” you press your dripping mound against him, gasping as you feel the heat slot between your lips, grinding up and down. “johnny.. i need you.”

that seems to do it for him, and he wraps his hand around his cock, pressing his tip into your waiting hole. you hiss at the stretch as he slowly eases in, not quite used to taking anyone as big as he is in such a long time.

“so fuckin’ tight—fuck, so tight for me.”

you lean back into him, feeling every ridge of him as he inches in bit by bit and as he bottoms out, you feel like you could cry. he fills you up so perfectly.

he lets you settle for a bit, swiveling his hips to get you readjusted to him, little gasps and cries leaving you with each movement.

“god, baby—you feel so good around me.” your eyes, which closed tightly sometime during his bottoming out, open back up to meet his, and his gaze narrows into a glare that sends shivers down your spine. “have you had anyone else here? let anyone else in what belongs to me?”

you clench around him at his possessive streak. he was always a laid back lover, never one to get unreasonably jealous, but he knew how to remind you who you came home to.

you’d had a few flings in the past few years, even had one relationship that lasted a few months, but no one ever compared to johnny—you don’t think anyone ever could.

he pulls out, thrusting back in at once, your body jolting against the table. “answer me, love.”

love. his voice is still harsh, but he reminds you of a time where the soft nickname was synonymous with your name in your world with johnny. your voice trembles, but you’re honest. you could never lie to him.

“y-yes.”

he thrusts again, harder, his hands moving to grip at your waist, fingers digging into the plush flesh.

“fuck,” is all he says before he drives into you harsher, angrier, setting a steady pace that has you seeing stars, his front slapping against your ass with every thrust. “fuck,” he repeats, more agitated.

his pace picks up, slapping sounds and moans filling the room, his grip surely leaving bruises that will reveal themselves in the morning. you can barely form any thoughts, but an ugly feeling rears itself in your stomach.

“what about you?” you ask, quietly—scared of the likely possibility that he’d had other people in this position, that he’d shared himself with them. held them just like he held you.

his focus momentarily falters, but he returns his attention to you, still moving his hips against yours as he responds breathily.

“no. never.” his whole demeanor softens just slightly, but you think you still know him enough to recognize even the slightest shift. you watch as his face falls into a pained grimace through the mirror. “even if i thought about trying to, all i could think about was you.”

his words send a wave of both relief and confusion through all the pleasure. you remember the shell of a person you were after he left you, waiting for him by the window dreaming he’d come back, calling his phone only for it to ring and ring until you reached his voicemail.

“i’m yours, love,” he grunts.

how can he come back after all this time and tell you everything you’d needed to hear since the day he left?

you convinced yourself he didn’t love you, and part of you wishes he would just treat you like someone that he never loved—it wouldn’t have your heart clawing its way out of your chest as he fucks into you desperately.

but as if trying to rewrite every bit of uncertainty you experienced, this johnny is making it so, so clear.

“and you’re mine,” he growls, though underneath his strong facade is the hope that what he’s saying is true. “no one could make you feel as good as i do—no one can fuck you like this, fill you up like this.”

your eyes rake up and down your forms in the mirror. his hands around your hips, his lips on your shoulder, marks blossoming over your skin.

“say it—say you’re mine,” he almost pleas, his face still pained. as your eyes drag back and forth between the two of you, you know. you love the way you look in his arms, how he makes you fall apart like no one else ever has.

so you admit it.

“y-yeah—oh-,” you stutter with an angling of his hips. “i’m yours, i’m yours.” you cry out as he snaps against you even more intensely at your confirmation, like it’s broken the last bit of restraint he had.

that’s all the two of you need, your eyes not leaving his as he snakes a hand around your front between your thighs, rubbing quick, harsh circles into your clit, hissing as you clench around him at the sensation.

your eyes flutter, and your head threatens to fall, but you use your strength to keep your eyes on johnny through the mirror—on both of you. you want to burn this sight into your memory so that you’d never forget it again.

he bites his lip, deep, gravelly groans leaving his throat as he chases both of your highs, but as his lips part, words spill out before he can catch them.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” his voice is still deep and rough, but filled with pure desperation, and it’s this confession that has you tumbling over the edge with a loud cry, your legs trembling under the force of his thrusts pushing you into overstimulation.

he follows soon after, pulling out at the last second and releasing over your ass and lower back, the warm spurts painting your skin.

you lean your head against the cool glass of the mirror as you both catch your breath. he slowly but carefully uses his shirt to clean his cum off of your back, tucks himself back into his pants with a sharp intake, and spins you around gently, holding you against him.

you let him hold you, not that you think you even have it in you to deny him. you don’t know if it’ll be the last time, but you don’t want it to be.

you break the silence.

“why did you leave?” you mutter against his chest. you breathe in his scent, taking in the combination of cologne, sweat, and a faint hint of cigarettes.

he pulls apart from you, holding your face in his hands before laying a sweet, deep kiss on your lips.

“because i’m stupid,” he admits with a sad smile. “i thought about coming back, but it also felt unfair to both you and me.”

a brief silence passes. you want him to expand on that, but you have an even more urgent question at hand.

“did you mean what you said earlier?” you ask. it hurts to doubt what you’ve wanted for so long, but you’re so scared it was in the heat of the moment. it’s the last confirmation you need before trusting yourself to him again.

“i told myself if i didn’t see you tonight, i’d let go of you forever. i—” he pauses, taking a deep breath, and you feel the way he tenses. “i only put on this show hoping you’d come.”

he holds you to him again, his embrace feeling just a bit fearful, yet still so certain. he lets his head drop onto your neck, breathing you in, rememorizing the feeling of you in his arms.

“i love you, and now that i have you back, i won’t let go of you again.”

you close your eyes, leaning your head against his. it feels as if you’ve just placed the last piece of a puzzle you left long unfinished, and it’s time to start a new one that you’ll figure out in time. together.

you love him, too—you never stopped.

end.

a/n: first song fic? is anyone else in emotional mental physical anguish whenever dj johnny comes up on the tl…. he’s crazy.. but anyways here’s something short and bittersweet, once again trying to get back into the groove of writing! feeling a bit freer now not including weed in everything tho i do miss writing stoner!nct (hopefully will be back soon)

i love this song and i love dj johnny be w my whole heart

feedback and shares always appreciated!

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

-coco ♡

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uumiuyu · 3 months ago

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Makeup Sex - ljh

⤑ genre: smut ⤑ pairing: Jooheon x reader ⤑ warning: just sex i guess? ⤑ summary: Jooheon has been ignoring you recently and you find yourself missing him more than usual. ⤑ word count: 4.3k

a/n: Holy shit. This took me forever to finish. I kept hitting roadblocks in my writing but I did my best to smooth everything over and piece it all together. Hopefully it reads seamlessly. As always, feedback is always appreciated. I want to hear what you guys think!! Send me mail, asks, anything!! Just let me know! Thank you for reading, I always appreciate it! Until next time! ~K♡

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uumiuyu · 3 months ago

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starting my puppysuh rampage by saying that johnny most definitely has the filthiest mouth out of all the members in 127…

he’ll use it in the craziest circumstances too. out shopping, in a restaurant, even when you’re watching a movie with the rest of the squad, he’s always got something to say… and it kills you whenever he opens his mouth.

“movie’s boring,” he’d whisper, fingers tapping along the soft skin of your thighs under the blanket on the couch. “wish the rest of the guys weren’t here so i could eat you out instead.”

even though you’d like to say you’ve gotten used to his dirty tirades, he still manages to take you by surprise every single time. the soft gasp you let out barely goes unnoticed by the rest, but the loud clearing of your throat is definitely picked up by several pairs of sharp ears when you feel johnny start to poke at the crevice between your sleeping shorts.

“shhh,” he says, “you gotta be quiet or you’ll interrupt the movie.” to hell with the movie, because now he’s slowly circling your clit underneath the thin fabric and kissing your neck, and to the innocent untrained eye, it just looks like a sweet embrace.

meanwhile, he’s gasping and panting quietly in your ear as if he’s the one being relentlessly stimulated, and when you shift your hips beneath the blanket, he clicks his tongue.

“nuh-uh,” he chastises, “focus, or i won’t go any further.”

and whilst you’d love to say that johnny has the dirtiest mouth in all of 127, you can’t ignore that fact that he also has hands that just don’t quit.

a/n : first drabble, kinda nervous…

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uumiuyu · 3 months ago

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Ateez members when you squirt. Ft maknae line

Including: San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho x fem!reader (all separate!)

Warnings: porn no plot, Squirting, nasty nasty nasty, degradation, dirty talk, use of names (slut), mention of passing out but you don't (San) cocky!wooyoung, size kink (mingi), oral (f, mingi and wooyoung), like one pussy slap (wooyoung), daddy kink (mingi and wooyoung), this is just messy and nasty I didn't proofread so lmk if I missed anything!

Authors note: English isn't my first language. I think I went overboard . . . Especially with mingis 😔😔🥴🥴

San.

“Again,” he growls, breath hot against your shoulder as he slams his hips into yours with bruising force. “Fucking again, baby—don’t stop now.”

You can’t. You’re sobbing, face twisted in pure overstimulated bliss, thighs twitching, soaked and ruined and trembling as another gush of wetness sprays out from between your legs.

“Ohhh fuck—there it is,” San groans, head thrown back, hips grinding through it like he’s ossessed. “That’s it, baby. Made a fuckin’ mess for me, huh?”

You try to answer, but you can’t form a single coherent thought. Your eyes roll. Your fingers claw uselessly at the sheets beneath you.

San just laughs. It’s feral—guttural.

“Dumb little thing,” he snarls, reaching down to slap your twitching clit, watching your whole body spasm from it. “You like being fucked stupid, don’t you?”

You nod. Barely. More of a shake. Your lips part to speak—nothing comes out but a whimper.

“I said don’t stop.”

He flips you onto your back, grabs both your ankles and spreads you wide, cock already rock-hard again despite the fact he just emptied himself inside you not even two minutes ago.

“You thought I was done? You thought one little squirt show was gonna be enough?”

He lines up again, sinks in without warning. No mercy. You scream.

“Fucking tight,” he hisses. “You’re still squeezing me like you don’t wanna let go.”

Your entire body jerks. Nails digging into the mattress.

He leans down until he’s nose-to-nose with you. Grabs your jaw hard enough to ache. Forces you to look at him.

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see how dumb you look when you come.”

Your lashes flutter. Your lip quivers. He starts pounding into you like he wants to break the bed—slamming his hips, skin clapping against yours, sweat dripping from his forehead to your chest.

“San—Sannie please—I-I can’t—!”

“You can.”

He presses his hand to your lower tummy, feels how swollen and full you are.

“Feel that?” he grunts. “That’s me. Right there. So deep inside I’m practically part of you.”

He fucks deeper. Harder. Faster.

“You’re gonna squirt again. You’re gonna cover my cock, the sheets, everything. Make a mess like the filthy little slut you are.”

You’re wailing now, words melting into cries and breathless mewls. He snakes a hand up to your throat, squeezes just enough to make the edge of panic blur with the pleasure.

And then—

“Fuck—yes,” he growls. “There it is. Pretty little pussy fuckin’ exploding for me—holy shit—look at that.”

You squirt so hard it splashes against his thighs. He doesn’t even stop. He shoves your knees to your chest and keeps fucking through it, watching your face twist, your mouth open wide in a soundless scream.

“Again,” he spits. “Fucking again.”

You can’t even fight it. Your body obeys him before your brain can catch up. Another wave crashes over you—wet, hot, helpless.

He moans loud, cock throbbing deep inside you. “You’re mine. You get that?”

You whimper. “Y-Yes—San—fuck—yours—”

He bites your neck. Hard. “Say it.”

“Yours! I’m yours—I’m only yours—”

He kisses you like he’s trying to consume you.

Then he pulls out, drags you to your knees by your hair, and shoves his cock back into your ruined cunt from behind—still gushing, still twitching.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls. “Now keep squirting until you pass out.”

Mingi.

He’d been down there for a while.

Palms spreading your thighs wide, tongue lazily lapping at your clit like it was breakfast, chin shiny and eyes half-lidded in pure obsession. You’d lost count of how many times your hips bucked or how many times his tongue teased your folds before dipping in—deeper, deeper, until your whole body was convulsing.

“Mingi, wait—fuck, I—something’s—”

That’s all it takes. The tremble in your thighs, the way your belly tightens…

And then it happens.

Your body arches, the pressure snaps, and a sudden wet gush bursts from you—hot and clear and everywhere.

“Oh…” Mingi stops, stunned for a second. His mouth parts, brows lifting slightly as he pulls back to look. Your thighs are soaked. His face is drenched.

Then:

“…Holy shit.”

He grins. Wildly. Tongue darts out to taste you again—licking his cheeks where the mess landed.

“Baby…” His voice drops lower, cock already rock hard against the bed. “You never told me you could do that.”

You whimper, dazed, humiliated, but so high on it you can barely think.

“I—Mingi, I didn’t—I’ve never—”

He growls. That’s the only word for it. Like you just unlocked a kink he didn’t even know he had.

“Fuck, you’re unreal.”

And then he’s on you.

Flicking your clit, tongue rolling filthy patterns over your overstimulated cunt, groaning against your skin like he’s starving. His big hands are clutching your hips down so hard it stings.

You squirt again. And again. It’s automatic now—he demands it.

“Mmhmm, that’s it… so fuckin’ wet for me.”

You’re barely breathing when he finally lifts his head, face dripping, lips swollen and red, pupils blown. He’s panting.

“You’re a goddamn fountain.”

He strokes his cock, lets it slap against your slit. “Wanna see if this pretty pussy squirts like that with my cock too.”

You moan. Shake your head. “Mingi, you’re too big, I can’t—”

“Oh baby.” He leans down, voice a whisper, thick tip teasing your entrance. “You’re gonna take it.”

He starts slow. Just the tip. Then another inch. And another. You’re already clawing at his arms, panting, your eyes rolling.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “So tight. I can feel your heartbeat in this cunt.”

He bottoms out with a brutal thrust. Your body jerks. And he laughs.

“You’re so full, huh?”

You sob. “C-Can’t—Mingi—too much—too deep—”

He cups your cheek. Kisses you softly. Then ruins you again.

His hips slam into yours at a vicious rhythm, skin slapping, the sound of wet squelching echoing off the walls. He’s obsessed—watching your pussy swallow every inch of his thick cock, watching how each thrust pushes more slick out of you.

“You gonna squirt on my dick, baby?” he groans. “Gonna soak me like you did my fuckin’ face?”

You do. Screaming his name, gushing hard enough to leave his lower abs dripping.

He doesn’t stop. Won’t let you come down.

“Shiiit, you’re fuckin’ gushing,” he moans. “Look at this mess. Look what you did.”

You cry out. Your body convulses. Another orgasm barrels through you like a freight train.

He pulls you up by your waist, fucks you like a ragdoll, moaning into your neck, whispering filth between praises.

“Dirty little thing… makin’ a mess all over daddy’s cock like you need to be ruined.”

You’re babbling now—nothing makes sense. “Mhm—Mingiii—ah—f’so good—feels—ah—f-fuck!”

He bites your shoulder. “You love it.”

You nod wildly.

He grabs your face again, eyes dark. “Then squirt for me again, baby. Right now.”

Wooyoung.

“Already?” He says it with a cocky laugh, like watching you tremble under his mouth is funny to him. Your thighs are clenching around his head, stomach twitching, and you can’t breathe through the sounds you’re making.

“Mmh—fuck, Woo—ah, I—!”

He pulls back with a string of spit clinging to his lips, face glossy, tongue dragging over the corner of his mouth like he’s still hungry.

“God, listen to yourself. You’re gasping like you just ran a mile.” He rolls his eyes, leans down, slaps your pussy lightly with two fingers. You jolt.

“This got you that fucked up? From just my tongue?” He smirks, tapping your clit with lazy precision. “What’s gonna happen when I put my cock in, huh?”

“D-Don’t say shit like that—”

“Why not?” He spits directly on your folds, lets it drip down before rubbing it in with his thumb. “Gonna make you squirt, pretty girl. Wanna see how fucking messy I can get you.”

And then he’s diving back in.

Tongue rapid, focused, filthy—like he knows exactly what your body needs before you do. He groans deep against your cunt like it’s his favorite meal, and your hips jerk off the bed.

You feel it coil in your stomach again, tight and terrifying.

“W-Woo, wait, I think I—”

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t care. He wraps an arm around your thighs to lock you down and moans loud into your clit. That’s what pushes it over.

You squirt. Hard.

Gushing up into his mouth, thighs convulsing, head tossing back into the pillows as you scream. He keeps going. Licks it up, grinds his chin into your pussy, rubs you through it like he’s got something to prove.

“Fucking knew it,” he pants, chin soaked, fingers already replacing his mouth. “That’s it, messy girl. Drip for me.”

You try to close your legs, overwhelmed. He slaps your inner thigh.

“Keep ‘em open. Don’t be shy now.”

And then? Then he fucks you with his fingers until you squirt again.

You’re crying. Moaning slurred nonsense into your forearm as your thighs tremble.

“Oh, poor baby…” he coos, fake pout on his lips. “Too much for your dumb little pussy?”

Your only reply is a hiccuped whine.

“Yeah, I thought so.” He sits up, starts unbuckling his belt. “And now…”

He slaps his fat cock against your overstimulated slit, groaning when it twitches from the contact.

“Now I fuck you stupid.”

You scream his name. Again and again. You lose track of time, lose count of how many times he makes you squirt, how many times he moans right in your face, laughing when you can’t form full sentences.

“W-Woo… ngh, c-can’t—d-daddy please—!”

“Shhh, you’re fine. Just a dumb little slut with a squirty little pussy, huh?”

He grabs your face, shoves two fingers in your mouth and spits on your tongue.

“Now take it.”

Jongho.

“You didn’t tell me you could do that,” Jongho mutters, voice low—dangerous—as he stares down at your soaked thighs.

Your chest is heaving, whole body trembling. You’re still recovering from it—your orgasm, your release—your squirt.

It had surprised even you.

One moment his thick fingers were pumping slow and steady into your cunt—pressing right there, right there—and the next? You were shaking, crying, spraying his hand, his wrist, the sheets under you, everything.

And Jongho hasn’t said much since. Just breathing. Watching. Processing.

Then he wipes his soaked fingers on your inner thigh.

“You’re going to do that again,” he says flatly. Not a suggestion. Not a request. A command.

You whimper. “I… I don’t think—”

His hand snaps around your jaw.

“I didn’t ask you what you think.”

He grabs you by the waist, flips you like you’re weightless. You gasp. He pulls you into his lap—his cock already achingly hard, thick against your soaked folds.

Then, with terrifying calm, he slides in.

You scream.

Not loud. But wrecked. Like your body can’t decide whether to panic or worship him.

Jongho groans low in his throat. Hands gripping your hips so tight it hurts.

“You squirted all over my fingers. Let’s see if I can make you do it on my cock.”

He doesn’t move at first—just sinks in deeper. Slow. Unbearable. Stretching you open inch by inch until your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

Then he grinds.

Your body jerks.

“Ohhh—Jongho, I—”

“Eyes on me.”

His hand fists your hair, pulls your head back until you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“No hiding,” he whispers. “You’re going to look me in the eyes while I ruin you.”

Then—he fucks you.

Hard. Precise. Deliberate. Each thrust perfectly angled to bully your sweet spot, to force a reaction out of you.

You’re gasping, sobbing—fingers gripping his arms like a lifeline.

Jongho’s not sweating. Not moaning. Just breathing. Focused. Like he’s studying you.

“You’re going to do it again,” he murmurs. “I can feel it. You’re pulsing.”

You cry out. Your legs are shaking.

“Say thank you.”

“W-What—?”

Smack. His hand lands on your ass—hard.

“Say thank you for your cock.”

“Th-thank you! Ohmygod, thank you—!”

Then—you snap. Again.

A burst of slick soaks his thighs, your body twitching uncontrollably.

And Jongho smiles.

Dark. Satisfied.

“I knew you could.”

He pulls out—just to slam back in. You wail.

“N-Not again, I can’t—!”

“You can. You will.”

And he keeps fucking you. Pushing. Over and over.

Until your voice breaks. Until your body stops responding.

And when you finally pass out in his arms, he kisses your forehead.

“Next time, I want three.”

Writing by @lustlvii please do not translate or publish anywhere

3K notes · View notes

uumiuyu · 3 months ago

Text

training wheels | z.cl

“it’s not like i’m asking to be your wife”

💿now playing: training wheels by melanie martinez

❯ summary: When your jerk of a boyfriend dumps you for being a virgin, the last thing you expected was to find comfort in your roommate, Chenle. But here you are, and now you're asking him to take your virginity…

❯ pairings: chenle x fem!reader

❯ genre: roommates to lovers, smut

❯ words: 4.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, loss of virginity, protected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, slight innocence kink, fingering, pet names, very fluffy sex, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, basically just 4kish works of chenle coaxing you through it.

“It’s not me, it’s you.”

Jeong Jaehyun may have been your first boyfriend, but you’re pretty sure that’s not how that line is supposed to go. At least, that’s not how they say it in the movies. And still, here you are—sitting alone at the little bistro downtown, thirty minutes after he ended things and walked out.

Jaehyun’s made it painfully clear he’s done with you. But, there’s still some small part of you that expected him to come back, apologise, maybe even beg you to forgive him, say he made a mistake. He doesn’t. So you pay for the drink you’ve barely touched and decide to make your way back to your apartment.

The breakup doesn’t hurt in the traditional sense—you weren’t necessarily in love with Jaehyun. He was sweet, sure, and hot enough. But there was always something missing. Maybe that’s why, every time things started to get physical and he wanted to take his pants off, you freaked out and pulled away. Left him hanging. Blue-balled him, as he so charmingly put it. His words, not yours.

What stings is everything he said before he left—because it was honest, and it’s going to follow you into every relationship after him.

"It’s normal for a guy to wanna fuck his girlfriend, Y/N."

"I’ve waited three months."

"If you’re not ready, I’m not interested."

Yeah, you’ve changed your mind, you think he’s an asshole.

The words circle your mind until you get to your apartment. Your heels click dully against the hallway floor as you fumble with your keys, a sigh escaping before the door even opens.

Chenle, your roommate, is on the sofa. His legs folded underneath him like a child and a deck of playing cards are spread out on the coffee table. Solitaire, probably, knowing him.

He doesn’t look up when you come in, just says, “You’re back early.”

You toe your heels off in the entry way and shrug off your coat, letting it fall onto the back of one of the bar stools as you make your way through the kitchen to join him on the sofa.

“Yeah,” you mumble, voice scratchy from the cold. “Dinner ended early. Jaehyun decided to break up with me.”

That gets his attention. He glances up, blinking, a three of hearts dangling between his fingers. “Woah. Fuck me. Seriously?”

You nod. “Yep. He said—and I quote—‘It’s not me, it’s you.’”

Chenle lets out a short, incredulous laugh, dropping the card onto the messy pile in front of him. “Damn. What a fucking asshole.”

You flop down beside him, curling your knees up under your chin. “He’s not wrong,” you say, quieter now. “I mean... he kind of had a point.”

Chenle tilts his head at you sceptically. “No chance. Look, I’m no Casanova or anything, but even I know the line is supposed to be ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’”

You shake your head and laugh, defeated. “That’s what I thought too.” Then, a sigh drags itself out of you. “Except... the reason he broke up with me is because he doesn’t think dating a virgin is worth the hassle. That he’s tired of waiting, so he just... left.”

“So... because you didn’t want to sleep with him, he decided you weren’t worth dating?” He asks, leaning back against the couch now, arms crossed.

You glance at him. “Pretty much.”

Chenle doesn’t know what’s more shocking—the fact that you (his pretty little roommate who’s sexier than sin and sweeter than sugar) are still holding onto your v-card, or the fact that your asshole boyfriend, who he never really had a valid reason to hate before, didn’t think you were worth the wait.

Well, he’s glad he’s got a reason now.

He hums, thinking. “What a dick.”

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I mean, maybe he’s right. Maybe something is wrong with me. Maybe I’m broken.”

Fuck no. He’s making you erase that thought, asap.

Chenle straightens, shaking his head. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N. Wanting to wait—or not wanting sex at all—doesn’t mean you’re broken. That’s just... your decision. A good guy would respect that.”

You chew on the edge of your thumbnail, gaze dropping to the floor. It’s a bad habit you can’t quite kick, especially when you’re feeling small.

“It’s not like I don’t want to have sex,” you say eventually, voice so quiet it's almost like you’re confessing something shameful. “I do. I just...I keep dating guys who’ve, like... been with lots of girls. Guys who know what they’re doing. And I don’t. And it makes me feel...” You trail off, cheeks burning and your throat tight. “It makes me feel embarrassed.”

The words hang there, raw and a little pathetic, and you hate how small they make you sound.

Eventually, Chenle shifts beside you, nudging your knee lightly with his. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

You shrug, because it doesn’t feel like bullshit when you’re the one living it. When you’re the one with the anxiety that won’t let you get past a makeout session with some light petting.

Chenle huffs a breath, raking a hand through his hair. “Seriously, Y/N. Anyone who makes you feel like you're not enough because you haven’t ticked some box yet is a fucking idiot.”

That gets a quiet laugh out of you. You finally glance up at him, and his face is serious, sincere in a way that Chenle usually hides behind jokes and sarcasm. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’re not less because you’re waiting. You’re not less because you’re nervous. And you’re definitely not less because you’re a little unsure about what you’re doing.” His voice drops a little, softer now. “You deserve someone patient. Someone who makes you feel good about yourself. Not some dickhead who’s counting down the days like it’s a fucking chore.”

You duck your head, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s... an adult and still completely clueless.”

Chenle leans in a little, catching your eyes with his own. There’s no teasing there, no judgment—just something warm.

“Everyone’s clueless the first time. That’s the whole point. You’re not supposed to be good at it. You’re supposed to figure it out with someone who gives a shit about you. Not some guy who’s just trying to get his dick wet.”

You snort at that despite yourself, and Chenle grins, pleased with himself for making you laugh, even if it’s just a little. After a moment, you tilt your head, studying him.

“Were you... clueless your first time?”

Chenle lets out a bark of laughter, throwing his head back against the couch dramatically. “Oh, hell yeah.”

You smile. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. It was... honestly, it was embarrassing as fuck. Blew my load in, like, two minutes.” He squeezes his eyes together and shivers at the memory. “The girl was very polite about it, though, but yeah. Mortifying.”

You snort, the mental image almost too hard to believe. In the years you’d been Chenle’s roommate, he’d probably had one situationship—max. You knew he wasn’t exactly a player, and he didn’t fuck around a lot. Christ, he spent his Saturday nights playing solo solitaire on the coffee table.

But still... he was hot. And hot people could always fuck... right?

“Oh my God,” you giggle, covering your mouth. “Two minutes?”

“If that,” he says, eyes crinkling again. “Might’ve been one and a half. I’m a little generous with myself. Male ego and all that.”

You laugh so hard your sides ache, and Chenle’s grin only widens. He likes seeing you laugh—loves it, actually. He thinks he’d like to make you laugh more often. It’s so pretty, the sound, the way your whole face lights up. Why on Earth that asshole you were dating didn’t want to wait longer to hear all the other sounds you’d make is completely beyond him.

When the laughter dies down, the quiet that settles between you isn’t heavy—it’s soft. Comfortable. It gives you a moment to just look at him. And something stirs in your chest, something you can’t quite name.

You and Chenle hadn’t been friends before you moved in together, but he’s always been so nice, so funny, so good to you. Even now, the fact that he’s willing to embarrass himself just to make you feel better… It’s trust.

It’s attractive.

Before you can second-guess it, the words slip out:

“Would you... would you be my first?”

“What—” he gapes at you and his voice cracks halfway through the word. He clears his throat, trying again. “Y/N, you…you can’t just ask stuff like that.”

Your heart stutters, nerves spiking—but before you can backpedal, you see the pink blooming on his cheeks, the way his hands flail a little uselessly in the air before he scrubs them through his hair.

“It’s not—I’m not saying no,” he rushes out. “It’s just—holy shit, Y/N.”

You blink at him. “Why are you freaking out more than me?”

Chenle groans and slumps back against the couch, covering his face with both hands. He’s freaking out because, despite all his confidence, he’s not sure he’d be any better now than he was as a clueless teenager losing his virginity.

Sure, he’s not totally inexperienced, but... this is you.

The girl across the hall he may or may not have jerked off to once or twice. The girl he thinks is so fucking pretty it physically hurts sometimes. The girl he’s definitely got a crush on. The girl who’s a virgin.

Fuck.

He’d be lucky if he lasts a full minute inside you.

“Because it’s you. And this is...we’ve established is a big deal to you. And I don’t wanna—I don’t know—ruin it or make it weird or...” He trails off, peeking at you through his fingers.

You chew on your lip for a second, then scoot a little closer, tugging gently at his wrist until he drops his hands and looks at you properly.

“I’m comfortable with you, Chenle,” you say quietly. “I trust you. I won’t feel embarrassed, I promise. Not with you.”

He flushes, looking like he might actually combust right there on the couch. His cheeks are pink, the tips of his ears even worse, and his hands keep fidgeting—picking at a loose thread on his sweatshirt, tapping against his knee. He keeps opening and closing his mouth like he wants to say something but can’t figure out what.

Finally, he manages, “Y/N, you’re upset after the breakup. I don’t want you to feel, like... pressured or anything. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it.”

Translation: I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret me.

“I won’t, I swear I won’t,” you say, sitting up to meet his wide, nervous eyes. “Look, it’s not like I’m asking to be your wife, Chenle. I’m not asking for a relationship or anything crazy. I just...” You pause, feeling your cheeks heat. “I want to get over this stupid hurdle. And I trust you.”

Something flickers in Chenle’s eyes then. His fidgeting stills all at once, and before you can react, he moves, shifting his weight and hovering over you on the couch, palms braced on either side of your body.

His pupils are blown wide, dark and stormy as they fix on you. His voice drops, “I’m not a fucking tick box either, Y/N. I’m not a hurdle for you to just get over.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart skips like it doesn’t know how to beat properly anymore.

“I know,” your voice trembles. “You’re kind, Chenle. I know you won’t laugh at me or make me feel like shit about it after. You’re the only guy I know who fits the bill for this.”

He brings one hand up, brushing a knuckle against your cheekbone—barely there, like he’s scared you might vanish if he touches you too hard.

“No, you don’t know,” he murmurs. “I’m saying, if we do this... I’m the only guy who fits the bill. Ever.”

Your throat tightens at that, and your cheeks flush from the heat of his palm, which is now cupping your jaw.

“Chenle—”

“I don’t want to be something you regret,” he says. “But I also... I don’t think I can say no to you right now. So you need to take this offer off the table.”

Your hands slide up under the hem of his sweatshirt, fingertips skimming the warm skin of his waist. He shivers under your touch. “I don’t want to take the offer off the table,” you breathe. “I want you.”

That’s all it takes. He kisses you.

It’s not rushed or hurried—it’s careful, like he’s asking permission with every brush of his lips against yours. His mouth is warm, breath a little shaky, and he tastes like that mint gum he’s always chewing. You’d never been kissed like this before, all teeth and tongue and so much aching need. You don’t want him to stop.

Especially when his hands find your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and he drags you closer, slotting you between his thighs. You can feel him already, hard against you through the thin barrier of your clothes, and it sends a dizzy rush through your blood.

You find yourself clutching at him—his sweatshirt, tugging at the hem, slipping your hands beneath to find hot skin. And God, is he solid. His stomach jumps beneath your palm, muscles tensing when your fingers splay across his ribs. You want to touch all of him. You want to learn from him.

He makes a soft, broken noise—somewhere between a moan and a plea—and pulls back just enough to breathe, just enough to speak.

“Easy, baby,” he says, eyes heavy-lidded. “You gotta slow down.”

You barely register the words—too consumed by the way that pet name sounds coming from his mouth, in that rugged tone, directed at you. It makes your whole body throb.

You bite your lip, still tugging at his sweatshirt. “But I want you. Now. All of you.”

He exhales, forehead now pressing to yours, eyes darting down to your lips, then back up like he’s trying to ground himself.

“And you’ll have me,” he says quietly. “Every fucking bit of me. Just—let me have this. Let me take my time. Let me enjoy you.”

The words sink in slowly and they make your chest tighten. You blink up at him, breath catching. “I thought… I thought guys just wanted to get themselves off during sex.”

He cups your cheek, thumb brushing across your flushed skin, lingering at the corner of your swollen mouth before he lets it rest gently against your pouty lips.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, “but not every guy has the prettiest fucking girl underneath him.”

Your breath stutters.

“I’d be a fucking idiot,” he goes on, voice curling beneath every syllable, “if I didn’t put my mouth on your pretty pussy and watch you cum.”

You let out a whimper from the back of your throat—half shocked, half desperate.

“Bet you’d be so fucking hot,” he muses, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip again, slower this time. “Bet I wouldn’t be able to look away.”

Your hips shift involuntarily at his words, heat pooling low in your belly. The way he’s looking at you—like he’s already burning the view of you eager and squirming beneath him into his memory—makes your body vibrate with anticipation.

"Lele..." you whisper, breathless and unsure where the hell that nickname just slipped out from. Something about being this exposed, this vulnerable, has clearly made your brain foggy.

He just smiles, leaning in with his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth, deliberately not kissing you. “You said you trust me, yeah?”

You nod, but his eyebrows raise, the demand clear in his expression. He wants the words.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Then let me take care of you,” he whispers. “Let me teach you. Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like.”

You gasp softly as he trails his hand down your jaw, then your neck, so attentively until his fingers skate lightly beneath the hem of your dress.

“Can I...?” His voice is almost a growl now when he asks, fingertips hovering just above your thighs, teasing at the edge of the fabric.

You nod with a shaky breath. “Yes.”

He peels your dress off carefully, until you’re beneath him in nothing but a pair of black panties. When his eyes drop to your bare chest, he exhales slowly, chest rising like he’s trying not to worship you too hard, too fast.

"Fuck," he groans, sucking in a breath. “You’re gorgeous.”

Your arms instinctively twitch to cover yourself, but he catches your wrists gently and presses a kiss to each one before guiding your hands back to your sides.

“Don’t hide from me,” he demands. “Let me see you.”

And somehow, with the way he says it—all soft and awed—it’s easier. Easier to let him see. Easier to let him lean in and kiss along your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulder, into the valley of your breasts.

And that’s when you thread your fingers into his hair, encouraging him to sink lower until his mouth trails over your sternum, then your stomach. His kisses so soft that they make your thighs clench.

“Still okay?” he asks, glancing up with burning eyes and a pair of his own swollen lips.

You nod, whispering, “Please, don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down steadily, steady enough that you could stop him if you wanted him to, but you don’t. You lift your hips instead, offering yourself up.

“I still can’t believe you asked me to do this,” he says, getting the fabric completely off. “You could’ve had anyone.”

“I didn’t want anyone else,” you whisper. “Just you.”

“Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea what you’re doing to me—lying here like this, letting me be your first. Letting me be the one who gets to see you like this. Taste you.” He pauses, jaw tight. “Fuck—you’re so pretty.”

You want to clamp your legs shut at that, but you already know there’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen. Instead, you let him lean in, his mouth brushing a kiss to the inside of your bare thigh. Then another—higher. And another.

Until you're trembling. Until a whimper escapes you. And he just grins against your skin.

“You’re already shaking,” he says with a smirk, licking a leisurely stripe along the apex of your thigh. “I’ve barely touched you.”

You nod, cheeks burning. “I—I can’t help it.”

“I know, baby,” he says, and then he’s kissing higher again, closer to your cunt, until his breath is ghosting over where you’re aching for him the most. “That’s what I like about you. So innocent. So fucking eager.”

You’re trembling now, fingers fisting the back of the sofa, eyes snapping shut just as his mouth drags closer and his tongue licks a stripe along your pussy—languid and unhurried like he’s savouring every second.

“I’ve thought about this, you know?” he says, voice tight. “Thought about what you’d taste like. What you’d sound like when I finally got my mouth on you. Every day since you moved in.”

Your breath stutters, and a helpless sound slips from your lips. “E-every day?”

That makes him smile, eyes flicking up to yours. “Yeah,” he breathes. “And that sound—fuck, I could live off it.”

And then he dips lower. His tongue barely brushes where you’re soaked for him, but your back still arches off the sofa with a gasp anyway. You can’t even think—you’re just feeling. Overwhelmed. Burning.

He hums against you, satisfied. Like this was always meant to happen—his hands anchoring your hips, his mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking and lapping at you with skill, whilst his eyes stay locked on your face.

You’re completely falling apart beneath him, thighs shaking as he takes his time putting his tongue to work. Every choked whisper of his name tumbles from your lips without permission, and when your hands fly to his hair, fingers threading through the strands, he groans.

It’s low and guttural, and the vibration of it against you makes you cry out.

“Yes,” he pants. “I can feel how close you are. You’re shaking so bad, baby. You gonna cum for me already?”

You nod, frantic, breath hitching. “Yes, Lele—please,” you moan. “Please don’t stop.”

He wouldn’t.

One hand holds you open, steady, while the other slips down past your thigh until a single finger slides into your dripping pussy. You pant at the intrusion, eyes wide, and when he sees your pupils dilate, he starts to move—slow at first, then deeper, working you open until he’s knuckle deep and you tremble under his touch.

Then his mouth is back on you. Tongue circling, dipping, coaxing. Worshipping. And you’re not sure when the sob catches in your throat, only that it does—and that he hears it.

His thumb brushes along your hip, grounding you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” The finger inside you curls just right, and his voice drops: “Give it to me, baby. Let me have it. Let me see you cum for me, yeah?”

Then his mouth is back on your clit. It’s a steady rhythm but not as gentle now. But still, it’s matched to the overwhelmed, wild beat of your panting.

“I can feel it,” he says against you. “You’re so fucking close.”

You nod, whimpering. “I can’t—I—”

“Yes, you can,” he urges. “Cum for me, baby. Let go.”

It crashes into you—your orgasm—ripping through you like it’s both too much and still not enough. You cry out his name, fists tangled in his hair, and he doesn’t stop. Not until you’re spent and shaking, breathless, and sinking back into the cushions like you’ve melted into them like a puddle.

Only then does he ease off, his mouth softening against your skin. He presses one last kiss to your thigh before drawing his hand away. You’re still gasping when he rises over you, arms braced on either side of your head.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “You did so well for me.”

You blink up at him, but a tear slips down your cheek without you meaning it to. He catches it with his thumb, frowning gently.

“Hey… are you okay? Was that too much? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. “No. Just… no one’s ever done that for me before.”

Relief washes over him, and he leans down, brushing his nose against yours. “They should have. They fucking should have.”

“But if they had,” you sigh. “I wouldn’t be here now—asking you to fuck me.” Your hand trails down his chest, pawing at that sweatshirt again. “Please, Lele. I need you inside me. Now.”

His own breath catches, a sharp inhale trying to hold himself together, but the look in his eyes is pure wreckage.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he groans. “You can’t say shit like that to me or I’ll end up having a repeat of my first time.”

You grin. “That’s rich coming from the man who said he wanted to watch me cum with his mouth on my pussy.”

“Fuck, don’t repeat that back either,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Seriously, baby, you have no idea how hard I’m trying not to cum in my pants right now.”

You tilt your head, voice teasing. “You could always take your pants off and cum on my stomach instead.”

“Y/N,” he growls. “What happened to my sweet, innocent girl who was too scared to show me the prettiest tits in the world two seconds ago?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the only one who gets to have a dirty mouth in this relationship?”

His brow lifts, eyes narrowing in amusement. “This relationship, huh?”

You freeze. “No—I—that’s not what I meant—”

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, then leans in, lips padding against your skin as he nibbles softly at your earlobe. “Yes, it is. If we go any further, that’s exactly what you meant. I’m the only man for the bill ever, remember?”

You whimper, and he smirks, victorious.

“Glad we cleared that up.”

And then he’s moving—finally stripping off that damn sweatshirt in one fluid motion, revealing warm, flushed skin and lean muscle that shivers under your stare. Without another second, his mouth slams back onto yours before you can compliment him, kissing you hard and rough until your lips are pouty and swollen all over again.

When he breaks the kiss, it’s only to shove his pants down and fumble with his boxers, his breath ragged as he slides a condom over his cock. Then, he peppers kisses along your cheek until his forehead rests against yours.

“You’re sure about this?” his voice shakes as he breathes against your lips. “Tell me now if you’re not.”

“I’m sure,” you whisper, arms winding around his neck, pulling him close—pulling him in. “I want you. I want this.”

Chenle curses softly at that and shifts between your legs. His hand slides behind your thigh, gently parting you as he lines himself up with your pussy.

“Then I’ve got you,” he says. “I’ll take care of you. Just hold on to me, yeah?”

And you do—fingers clutching at his shoulders, heart hammering in your chest because this is happening—with him. When he finally pushes inside, it hits you all at once. The sharp, stretching ache of it. The fullness.

You can’t help but wince, a quiet hiss escaping through clenched teeth.

His thumb reaches up to stroke your cheek, his voice immediately soft. “You good?”

Tears sting at your eyes, but you nod anyway, adjusting slowly, breath by breath, until the sting eases and you feel the pain turn to something else—something good.

Only then does he move.

You gasp, arching into him, nails dragging down his back as he builds a rhythm that’s toe-curling. His lips find your neck, muttering your name, and you moan back eagerly because of how good it feels—how good he feels.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” he groans, forehead still pressed to yours. “So tight, so wet—shit, baby, you were made for me.”

You whimper, clutching him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. “Faster,” you beg. “Please, Chenle—I need more.”

His mouth crashes into yours again, this time messier, hungrier. He pulls back just enough to look down between your bodies, watching the way he disappears inside you. A strangled sound leaves him.

“Look at that,” he pants. “Taking me so well. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You can barely breathe—your whole body slick with that tension curling tighter and tighter in your belly as he begins to thrust harder, deeper. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room. And still, his hands never leave you—one cupping your face, the other gripping your thigh.

“You okay?” he asks between thrusts. “Still with me? Still good?”

You nod feverishly, tears pricking your eyes again. “So good. So fucking good, Lele.”

He groans, leaning down to kiss you again—slower now, gentler, and it’s all so tender, so intimate.

“I’m close,” he whispers against your lips, barely holding on. “But I want you to finish first. Come on, baby. Cum for me again—let me feel it.”

You moan, hips rocking up to meet his. “I can’t—it's too much—I—”

“Yes, you can,” he insists. “Just let go, baby. You know, you’re safe with me.”

And something about that—you’re safe with me—snaps the final thread.

You fall apart beneath him, moaning his name as your orgasm hits you, harder than the first time. You convulse around him, body trembling, vision blurring—and he follows with a ragged, broken curse, burying himself deep as he cums hard inside the condom, forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezed shut.

For a moment, the only sound is the echo of your breathing. Then he exhales slowly, his thumb brushing gently over your damp cheek. “You okay?”

You nod. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

He smiles. “That’s how it should be. That’s how it’s going to be.”

He doesn’t move right away.

He stays there, inside you, wrapped up in you. But when he finally, carefully pulls out, you whimper softly at the loss, and he murmurs, "I know, baby, I know," like it hurts him too.

He takes care of the condom quickly, tossing it into the bin. Then he’s back—pulling the throw blankets from the sofa over your bodies and curling in beside you. Bare skin to bare skin. Your face presses to his chest, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart beneath your cheek, slowly beginning to calm.

He kisses the top of your head. Then again. And again. Like he can’t stop.

“I meant it,” he murmurs into your hair. “That’s how it’s going to be. Always.”

Your fingers find his under the blanket and tangle them together. “You took care of me,” you say.

He nods, chin brushing your crown. “Of course I did. You said you trusted me.”

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