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Wait, Aren’t You Gay?

Bestfriend! Leeknow x Reader

“You crossed a line, He burned the rest”

Tags: Smut, groping, Mutual pining, phone sex, oral (f , m receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, begging, praise, soft dom Minho, tension snapping like a wire, domestic fluff, aftercare, post-sex vulnerability, tit play, friends to lovers

Word count: 8k

Summary: You always thought Minho was gay—so you never held back. Tiny tops, unfiltered stories, late-night cuddles… harmless, right?Until he sees you soaked through one day and finally snaps. And suddenly, your best friend isn’t looking at you like a friend anymore. Until one late-night phone call changed everything. Now you’re at his door—no bra, no excuse—buzzing from the sound of his voice and the filthy things he made you do. He opens the door. He sees you. And just like that, it’s over. The line is crossed.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

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You’d known Lee Minho since you were barely old enough to walk without holding onto his shirt.

Back then, he was just that loud kid who shared his snacks and shoved you into mud puddles. Now? He was your best friend. Constant. Loyal. Always down to pick you up when you were drunk or kill spiders or fake-boyfriend you out of awkward situations.

And also—totally not into girls.

At least, that’s what you’d always assumed.

He never talked about hookups. Never ogled girls. Never so much as blinked when you pranced around in your tiny shorts or ranted about your latest sex-related disaster. You figured he was either the most respectful man alive—or playing for a different team.

So you got reckless. Comfortable.

And today?

You were about to find out just how wrong you’d been.

It started with the kitchen sink.

You were washing dishes, half-dancing to your playlist, wearing nothing but those soft cotton shorts and an oversized white tank with no bra underneath. Your wet hair clung to your neck, and you were humming through a verse when the faucet burst—literally—spraying a jet of cold water straight at your chest.

“FUCK—shit, fuck—” You stumbled back, grabbing at the handle, slipping on the tile as water drenched you from neck to stomach.

And that’s when Minho walked in.

“Yo, I got the charger you—”

He froze.

You blinked at him, soaked and panting, hair plastered to your cheeks.

Water trickled down the front of your now see-through top. The fabric clung to every inch of your skin. And your nipples? Standing out like full spotlight, front row through the sheer cotton. You had no idea though, no time to even think about it before he had appeared.

“Oh.” You laughed, awkward. “Um—hi. Broken faucet. Don’t mind the wet t-shirt contest.”

He didn’t answer.

Just stood there.

Eyes glued to your chest, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring like he was trying to hold his breath.

Your smile faded.

“Min?”

His gaze finally snapped to your face.

Too late.

You saw it—the tension. The fire.

The unmistakable flicker of hunger.

And suddenly your stomach flipped.

“…Minho?”

He swallowed hard, voice low. Rough.

“Put something on. Now.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I said—” His eyes dropped again before yanking back up. “Go change. Now. Before I do something really fucking stupid.”

Your heart skipped.

Because that? That didn’t sound like your best friend.

You stood there in wet silence, your soaked top clinging to your skin like a second damn layer, Minho couldn’t meet your eyes.

He turned his back to you—turned his back—and gripped the edge of your countertop like he was grounding himself. His shoulders rose with each breath, tense as hell, like someone trying not to explode.

You’d never seen him like this. Not with you.

“I wasn’t—Min, I didn’t mean—” you stammered, brain short-circuiting. “I didn’t know you were coming over yet.”

His voice was clipped. “You knew the faucet was broken.”

“I didn’t know it was gonna blast me in the tits!”

Silence.

A beat.

Then, quietly—so quietly—you heard it:

“Jesus Christ…”

That’s when something finally clicked.

You looked down at yourself—at the sheer fabric sticking to your breasts, nipples hard, outline of your curves totally exposed. And for the first time in all the years of being this careless around him, you suddenly felt self-conscious.

You reached for a dish towel and held it over your chest.

“…Are you mad at me?” you asked, voice small.

“No,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

You stepped closer.

“Then what’s going on?”

He shook his head, still facing away. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

He let out a breath that sounded more like a growl, and when he finally turned around, you caught it again—that look. Raw, unfiltered restraint. His gaze flicked down to the towel you’d pressed to your chest, then back to your face.

You watched him like he was someone else.

Like the Minho you grew up with had peeled off his skin and left something sharper underneath. His jaw was tight, arms folded, eyes still avoiding yours—but you felt it now. That edge. That static charge that had been humming under the surface for who knows how long.

“I’ll fix the faucet later,” he muttered, stepping past you—carefully. Like you were made of glass. Or fire.

You turned as he moved, towel still clutched to your chest.

“You didn’t answer me,” you said.

“About what?”

“Why you told me to change.”

He stopped at the door.

Didn’t turn around.

For a long second, you thought he wouldn’t say anything at all.

Then, quietly, he replied:

“Because if I’d kept looking at you, I don’t think I would’ve kept my mouth shut.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

And when he walked out of the kitchen, just like that, it was like the whole room shifted.

The air changed.

Everything felt warmer. Tighter. Thinner.

You didn’t move for a while. Not until the cold in your soaked top finally made your skin sting.

⸻

The rest of the day passed weirdly.

Minho didn’t leave, of course. He stayed like he always did, lounging on your couch, bickering over what to order for dinner, side-eyeing you every time you grabbed your phone.

But the energy between you?

Completely different.

He didn’t look at you the way he usually did. Didn’t tease you like normal. Didn’t even touch you when he passed you the remote—just tossed it like it might burn him otherwise.

And you couldn’t stop thinking about his voice in the kitchen.

“I don’t think I would’ve kept my mouth shut.”

Kept it shut about what, exactly?

What he was thinking?

What he wanted to do?

You were still thinking about it when you came out of your room later in a sleep shirt that barely skimmed your thighs. No bra. Nothing underneath. The usual you-in-your-element vibe.

Except… this time?

You caught him looking.

Not accidentally.

Not briefly.

He looked—and kept looking.

From your legs to your hips to the faint hint of nipple under the thin fabric, straight to your face.

Your breath caught.

He didn’t apologize.

He didn’t blink.

He just raised a brow—almost like a dare—and said, “Your sink’s still fucked.”

You nodded, slowly.

“So are you gonna fix it?”

He stood up.

And as he passed by, way too close, his hand brushed the curve of your lower back.

Just a touch.

Too casual to be called a grab. Too deliberate to be innocent.

And then he was gone again, heading into the kitchen.

Like it hadn’t just happened at all.

⸻

He always crashed in your bed. That wasn’t new.

Late movie nights, sleepy arguments, limbs tangled and breathing synced—just best friends, just comfort.

Except tonight?

You felt everything.

His warmth at your back. The heaviness of his arm draped around your waist. The intentional silence of him pretending to be asleep, even though you could feel how tense he was.

You’d turned off the lights twenty minutes ago, but your body was still buzzing. Hyperaware of every inch of skin not covered by your flimsy sleep shirt. Every inch of him pressed against you in the dark.

And you knew—you knew—he hadn’t stopped thinking about earlier.

About how you’d looked dripping wet, nipples hard, shirt transparent and clinging to your curves like a second skin.

You should’ve felt awkward.

But instead, your thighs were clenched.

And then—His hand moved.

Just a little.

At first, it was nothing. A small adjustment. His fingers splayed over your stomach like they were stretching in his sleep. But then his palm drifted higher.

Slow.

Barely grazing the underside of your breast through your shirt.

Your breath caught.

His did too.

Like he just realized what his body was doing.

He didn’t pull away.

Not immediately.

His fingers twitched, tips brushing right beneath the curve of your boob—soft, tentative. Still pretending it was nothing. That he was asleep. That this wasn’t completely out of bounds.

Your chest rose and fell faster now.

He still didn’t speak.

But his hand stayed there.

Hovering. Teasing. The edge of a full touch, like he was testing himself. Or punishing himself.

And you?

You didn’t stop him.

You didn’t even breathe.

You just pressed back into him slightly—so slightly—and felt the undeniable shape of him, hard and restrained against the swell of your ass.

He exhaled shakily behind you.

Shit.

You’d never heard him make a sound like that before. Not around you.

Not around anyone.

You didn’t move for a while.

Didn’t even blink. Not when his fingers hovered beneath your breast, not when you felt his cock pressed firm and restrained against the curve of your ass. You just stayed still—heart hammering, skin burning—like your body was listening for his next move.

But when none came…

You shifted.

Just a little. Barely a breath of movement. Just enough to arch your back, push your chest forward, and guide the soft swell of your breast right into his palm.

His fingers twitched again.

But he didn’t pull away.

He didn’t say your name. Didn’t jerk back in shock or guilt. He just stayed there—completely still behind you, breathing shallow and slow like he was holding onto sleep as a defense.

Your nipples were hard beneath the thin cotton, the heat of his palm sinking through the fabric like an electric brand. It was barely a touch—but it felt filthy. Loaded. More intimate than anything you’d done with someone you were actually sleeping with.

And still, you stayed quiet.

Still.

Sleeping.

His thumb brushed the soft curve below your nipple. Just once. Barely there. Like a reflex.

And this time, his hips shifted too.

The press of him against your ass sharpened—more deliberate now. Less restrained. Like his body had stopped asking for permission and started taking what you weren’t stopping.

His hand tightened—slightly.

He was pretending to be asleep, you realized.

Just like you were.

If either of you acknowledged it, the world would crack open.

So you didn’t.

You just let it happen.

Let his hand cup your breast like it was meant to be there. Let his hips roll forward in the slowest, tiniest grind. Let your legs shift apart just enough that your thighs stopped brushing—and instead, welcomed.

He let out another one of those breaths—low, shaky, wrecked.

You smiled into the pillow.

Still not breathing.

Still “asleep.”

And behind you, your best friend since diapers was losing his last scrap of composure.

—

The morning came too fast.

Sunlight crept through your curtains like it knew what happened. Like it saw every second of that not-a-dream moment where his hand cupped your breast and his hips rolled into yours like it wasn’t the first time he’d imagined it.

He was already in the kitchen when you woke up.

Hair messy, hoodie wrinkled, acting like everything was normal. Like he hadn’t spent the night wrapped around you with his cock pressed to your ass and his hand full of your tit.

You padded out barefoot, keeping your face unreadable.

He handed you a mug. “You were out cold.”

Liar.

You took it, fingers brushing his, watching him too closely.

“So were you.”

A flicker—barely there—but his eyes twitched toward you for a split second. Like he was trying to see if you meant something more.

You let him sit with the tension.

You drank your coffee slow.

“You ever think…” you began softly, “maybe I’ve just been really fucking stupid?”

He looked up from his cereal. “Since when?”

You tilted your head. “Since assuming you weren’t into girls.”

He blinked. Slowly. Carefully.

That… got his attention.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t laugh it off. Just sat there—silent—and then brought the spoon to his mouth like nothing had happened.

But his voice, when he finally answered, was low. Controlled.

“What makes you ask that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. You never dated any. Never flirted. You never reacted when I walked around like—” you gestured vaguely at yourself—“this. So I figured, you know. Must be the reason.”

Another pause.

His eyes dropped to your thighs.

You were wearing the same sleep shirt.

No bra still.

Of course he noticed.

But he didn’t give you that satisfaction. He set the spoon down and leaned back in the chair, stretching lazily like his body hadn’t betrayed him eight hours ago in your bed.

“Maybe I’m just good at not talking about certain things,” he said.

That hit harder than it should have.

You stared at him.

And for the first time in a long time—you didn’t see your best friend.

You saw a man who’d been holding himself back for years.

You’d never stared at his crotch before.

That was the first red flag.

You weren’t even trying to. Just sitting across from him on the couch while he scrolled through his phone, hoodie riding up slightly, grey sweatpants loose and slung criminally low on his hips. You weren’t supposed to notice the shape beneath. The outline. The fact that you recognized the pressure of it against your ass last night because it had left an imprint on your nervous system.

You blinked away quickly.

Jesus.

You sipped your water like it could douse whatever fire had started in your chest—and your thighs.

He didn’t notice.

Of course he didn’t.

Lee Minho was the king of unreadable faces. That man could watch you strip naked and probably wouldn’t flinch. It was part of the reason you’d always felt safe around him. And the same reason you were losing your mind now.

You needed to know.

If you were wrong. If he’d just been hiding in plain sight. If that touch last night had been a fluke. A dream. Or something darker.

So you tested it.

That evening, while he sat on the floor building a shelf you couldn’t be bothered to finish, you leaned in behind him.

Loose tank top. Braless as usual. Intentional bend.

He turned slightly. Saw your chest from the side—too close, too exposed, one nipple practically peeking through the armhole.

His jaw clenched.

But he said nothing.

Strike one.

You tried again.

Pulled your hair up messily, exposing your neck, your back. Made small, breathy sounds when you stretched. Loud enough to hear. Soft enough to pass as innocent.

Still nothing.

Strike two.

You were practically writhing at this point. Trying to piss him off or fluster him, something.

But Lee Minho stayed quiet.

You weren’t sure what exactly you were trying to prove anymore.

That he wasn’t gay? That he wanted you? That you could still control this friendship even when everything was shifting beneath your feet?

Maybe it was all of it.

But you were already halfway in his lap before you had time to second guess it.

“You’re not good at building shit,” you teased, voice sweet as sugar while you hovered close, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder. “Lucky I’m cute enough to get away with watching instead of helping.”

He grunted—low, disinterested. But his eyes betrayed him. You saw the flicker—straight to your chest, to the deep dip of cleavage you’d made extra sure he’d notice.

Bingo.

You leaned closer. Pretending to inspect a screw on the shelf. Your tits brushed his upper arm.

He went still.

“You okay there, Min?” you asked softly. Coy.

He cleared his throat. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“This,” he said. He didn’t look at you. “Whatever game you’re playing right now.”

“I’m not playing anything.”

“Yes, you are.”

You tilted your head. “What are you talking about?”

Silence.

Then, quieter: “I’m warning you.”

Oh, that did something to you.

He sounded like he meant it. Like he was afraid of himself more than you. And maybe he should’ve been—because you were reckless now. Hyped up on the taste of your own power, drunk on the image of him with your tit in his hand last night.

You pulled your tank top aside from the arm hole just a little. No bra. Just the soft swell of skin—more than enough to tempt. His eyes snapped to it instantly.

“Go ahead,” you whispered. “Touch me.”

He swallowed.

Didn’t move.

So you took his hand yourself—slowly, deliberately—and pressed it to your breast.

Flesh to palm.

He exhaled sharp. Visibly flinched. But he didn’t pull away.

You arched into his touch.

“You’ve never been curious?” you asked, voice lower now, almost daring. “Never once wondered what they felt like? You’ve known me your whole life, Minho…”

His thumb twitched. Brushed the underside like he didn’t even know he was doing it.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

You smiled faintly.

But then he tightened his grip—just slightly—and your breath caught.

“You think I’ve been ignoring you all these years?” he asked, voice dark now. Steady. Dangerous. “You think I don’t notice when you walk around half naked? You think I don’t see the way your tits bounce when you laugh?”

You froze.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“You think I don’t feel them when you’re sleeping pressed against me?” His thumb brushed up now—barely grazing your nipple. It stiffened instantly. So did you.

“Minho…”

His hand dropped away suddenly, like he was snapping out of it.

“You need to stop,” he said, standing up too fast. “Before you push me too far.”

You stared up at him from the floor, dazed.

For the first time… you realized you might’ve already pushed too far.

—

It was hours later when you finally crawled into bed.

He was already in it—lying on his side, facing away, blanket riding low on his waist and exposing the tight line of muscle up his back.

Your heart was still pounding.

He hadn’t said a single thing after storming out earlier. Not during dinner. Not while you cleaned the mess from the half-finished shelf. Not while you avoided looking at him like he hadn’t cupped your tit like a stress ball.

And now you were lying beside him again, like nothing had changed.

You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed.

You turned your back to him, the usual position when you shared a bed, but the air felt different tonight. Dense. Stifling.

“Hey,” you whispered in the dark. “Are we… okay?”

His voice came low. Controlled. “You tell me.”

You swallowed. “You seemed… upset earlier.”

“I was,” he said. “I’m not anymore.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

Then, casually:

“You looked at my dick today.”

You choked. “What?! No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

You rolled onto your back, flustered. “You can’t prove that.”

“I don’t need to. I know your face. I’ve known it since you had baby teeth.”

You blinked at the ceiling. Your face was burning.

He shifted then—closer. The bed dipped behind you. His chest met your back.

And something else pressed against your ass.

Hard. Solid. Undeniable.

You gasped.

His lips brushed your ear. Calm. Evil.

“That’s payback,” he said softly, “for putting your tits in my hand.”

You forgot how to breathe.

He didn’t move.

Neither did you.

The air between you was molten now, and his cock—fuck, that was his cock—was still heavy and pulsing against your ass like he was proud of it.

“Minho…”

“You wanted to know,” he said, voice silk and fire. “You’ve been trying to get a reaction out of me all day. So now you’ve got one.”

You felt him smirk.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. “Too much?”

You couldn’t answer.

Not when your thighs were squeezing together like they had a mind of their own. Not when your heart was a drum and your skin burned where it touched his.

You didn’t say anything at first.

Just stayed frozen in place, his cock pressed thick and solid against the soft curve of your ass, your entire body vibrating with heat.

Your lips moved before your brain could stop them.

“…Can I touch it?”

Silence.

Not even a breath behind you.

Then— “What?”

You swallowed, your voice weirdly calm now. “I just… I wanna feel it. Like—actually feel it. With my hand.”

A sound escaped his throat. Sharp. Choked.

“You’re kidding.”

You turned around slowly, facing him in the dark. His eyes locked on yours—blown, stunned, like you’d slapped him with a brick made of sin.

You didn’t wait for another answer.

Your eyes dropped straight to his crotch.

And your hand followed.

The blanket shifted just enough as you slipped beneath it, and your palm found him right where he’d pressed up against you before—still just as thick, still painfully hard, straining beneath the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

You cupped him gently.

Minho jerked.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, face twisting. “What the hell are you doing…”

“Just curious,” you murmured, gaze fixed on the shape of him under your hand. “You’re so… big.”

He groaned, head dropping back into the pillow.

Your fingers squeezed lightly. You were sure you felt him twitch.

“You’ve been like this all night?” you asked, eyes wide.

He hissed through his teeth. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Why not?” you teased, still stroking. “It’s not like I’m doing anything serious.”

“That’s the fucking problem,” he gritted out, hips twitching into your hand.

You explored him like you were learning something new, weighing the heft of him through his pants, tracing the long, thick outline up and down.

He was breathing heavier now. Jaw clenched. Eyes shut.

“You can tell me to stop,” you whispered.

He didn’t.

So you slipped your hand inside.

No warning.

Just fingers beneath the waistband, sliding inside until you were wrapping your hand around bare, hot skin.

Minho choked.

“Fuck—fuck—”

You stroked slowly, palm tight around the base, sliding up to the head and back again. He was massive. Velvet over steel. Already leaking a little at the tip.

He bucked into your hand before he could stop himself, hips twitching under the weight of your touch.

“Is this payback too?” you asked, lips barely moving.

His eyes flew open.

“Keep talking and I’ll fuck your throat instead.”

Your hand froze.

Your heart flipped.

Your thighs clenched so hard it hurt.

But then, you looked up at him. Still holding him. Still stroking him.

His cock twitched in your hand, thick and aching, as you slowly dragged your fingers up the shaft and back down, your touch featherlight—teasing.

Minho’s eyes were glassy now, dark and stormy and wild, like he was barely keeping himself together. His jaw clenched. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts.

You felt powerful. Dangerous.

So you looked up at him—bold, daring—and said, “So? Still want me to stop?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just blinked at you like he was seeing you for the first time. His voice came hoarse and wrecked.

“Are you crazy?”

You tilted your head. “Maybe.”

“This is—” He swallowed. “We’re—”

“Friends?” you offered, sliding your hand again, slower now. “Childhood besties? Practically siblings?”

He winced. “God, don’t say that.”

You smiled.

And then, without another word, you sat up on your knees and tugged your oversized sleep shirt over your head—bare underneath. Just skin and heat and those same soft breasts he’d felt in his hands earlier.

They bounced slightly as you moved, and the room went still.

His breath hitched. His eyes dropped—dragged—to your chest.

It was the second time he’d seen them that night.

“I’m sure,” you said simply.

Something broke in him.

He sat up so fast the mattress shook, one hand grabbing your wrist, the other threading hard into your hair. He yanked you forward, his mouth crashing into yours with so much heat it knocked the breath from your lungs.

You gasped into the kiss, and he devoured it—biting, claiming, groaning into your mouth like he’d been starving for years.

“This what you wanted?” he growled, lips trailing down your neck, teeth dragging over your collarbone. “You really wanted to see what I’d do?”

You whimpered, nodding, fingers already clawing at the waistband of his sweats.

“Too late to take it back now,” he muttered against your skin, before ducking down and wrapping his lips around your nipple—hard.

Your back arched. His tongue flicked, sucked, bit.

“Minho—”

“I’ve dreamed about these,” he groaned, switching to the other breast, kneading the first one in his palm like he was worshiping it. “You don’t know what the fuck you’ve done to me.”

Your whole body was trembling, his hands now everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding down your back, yanking you flush against his chest as he rutted up into you, his cock still trapped in his sweats, still throbbing.

“Need to feel you,” he rasped. “Need to have you.”

“Then take me,” you breathed. Without even thinking about it.

And for a second, Minho froze.

Not because he didn’t want to—his hands were already sliding lower, gripping your hips with bruising force—but because the way you’d said it… so open, so needy, so real… it shook him.

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he whispered, forehead pressing against yours, his voice raw, trembling. “Because if I start, I won’t stop this time.”

Your chest heaved against his, nipples dragging over his skin, and his self-control nearly snapped again right there. You could feel him under you, thick and hot through the fabric of his sweats, the tip pressed right against your soaked panties. One shift of your hips and—

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you whispered back.

He groaned, low and guttural, like the sound had been buried in his chest for years. You kissed him again—slow, deep, your tongues tangling like this wasn’t the first time. Like your bodies already knew the steps.

And maybe they did.

His hand slid between your thighs, pressing the heel of his palm right where you were aching most. Your hips jerked.

“Already soaked,” he rasped, biting down on your lip. “Fuck—have you always been like this around me?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. His fingers dipped beneath your waistband, brushing over your soaked folds through your underwear—just enough to make you moan.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warned, mouth now at your ear, voice shaking. “You keep tempting me like this, and I swear—”

“Then burn me,” you whispered, grinding down on his hand.

He snapped again—grabbing your ass and flipping you onto your back like he’d been holding back all his life. The sudden dominance in his movements made your breath hitch.

Minho hovered over you, both of you half-naked now, tangled in sweatpants and damp underwear and a thousand repressed thoughts.

His hand moved with purpose now, cupping your mound, rubbing slow circles over your clit, lips pressed to your neck.

You whimpered, bucked.

“Don’t tease,” you begged.

He chuckled darkly. “Says the one who’s been waving her tits in my face for years.”

You gasped—half embarrassed, half turned on—and he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes.

“Tell me to stop,” he said softly. “Or I’m going to ruin your sleep.”

You stared at him, panting. You wanted him. Needed him. But something inside you whispered—not yet. Not like this. Not while everything was still unraveling too fast.

“Not tonight,” you murmured, heart racing.

His expression shifted, softening in a way that made your chest ache.

He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

But his fingers didn’t move right away. He gave you one last teasing brush, slow and aching.

“For the record,” he added, voice like gravel, “this is me trying to behave.”

You giggled, breathless.

“I can tell.”

And then he pulled you into his chest, kissed your forehead, and let the fire between you simmer.

You didn’t have sex that night.

But neither of you slept much, either.

⸻

It had only been three days.

Three days since Minho had slipped out with nothing but a cryptic, “I’ll see you later,” and a soft kiss to your temple. Two days since you’d almost let your best friend finger you into oblivion under the safety of your shared covers. And now he was gone.

Well, not gone-gone. Just back at his apartment. Just out of reach. Just far enough to not risk really doing what your bodies had been begging for.

He hadn’t ghosted. Not exactly. Just a little space, a few texts. “Sorry, been busy.” “Work’s a lot this week.” “I’ll come by soon.”

But soon wasn’t now. And now… was when you were sprawled out on your bed, fingers between your thighs, a familiar silicone toy buzzing softly inside you—desperate to chase that same friction you almost got from him.

It wasn’t the same. Nothing could be. But the thoughts in your head? Those were filthy enough to get the job done.

Your mind kept flashing back to the night before he left: his voice in your ear, his thick cock pressed to your core, the way he’d looked at you like he’d been starving. You whined as your hips rolled, tightening your grip on the toy buried inside you.

Then your phone lit up.

Minho calling.

You froze, heart skipping. Fuck.

You hesitated just long enough for it to ring again—and then answered, trying to level your breath.

“Hey,” you managed, voice just a bit too airy.

“Hey,” he said, voice casual, low. “Were you sleeping?”

“Nope.” You exhaled hard through your nose, the vibrator still inside you, pulsing away like it knew your secrets. “Just… relaxing.”

“Mmm.” His voice dropped, curious. “You sound out of breath.”

You swallowed. Hard. “Tired day. I was just—y’know. Lying down.”

The vibrator kicked up just a notch, and your thighs jerked. He kept talking.

“Sorry I’ve been MIA. Been thinking about you, though.” His voice was warm, familiar. God, his voice. “A lot, actually.”

A sharp breath escaped you. You hoped it sounded natural. It didn’t.

“…You okay?” he asked, his tone shifting just slightly. “You sound—off.”

You could barely think anymore. Your head was buzzing. Your thighs were trembling. And you didn’t dare stop.

“I’m fine,” you rasped.

But then you whimpered. Barely. Just a little hitch in your throat.

He paused. “Wait. Are you—are you doing something?”

Your whole body froze.

“No,” you lied, voice high.

He went quiet. Too quiet.

“…Are you touching yourself right now?” His voice came low, dangerous. “While on the phone with me?”

Silence.

Then, another breathy whimper.

He growled. “Fuck. You are.”

You felt heat shoot up your spine.

“Keep going,” he said, voice gravel now. “Don’t stop. You started this.”

Your hips rolled again—slower this time, more deliberate—as you listened to him breathe, listened to the weight behind his words.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he demanded. “While you fuck yourself to my voice.”

You bit down on your lower lip, squeezing your eyes shut as his words settled under your skin like molten honey.

“Tell me,” he said again, voice a touch lower, rougher now. “What were you thinking about?”

You whimpered. “You.”

He chuckled. Dark. Breathless.

“Yeah? What about me?”

You hesitated, hips twitching as your toy nudged just right inside you. “The way you felt that night,” you gasped. “The way you pressed into me from behind… the way your cock felt against me, even through the sheets—”

“Fuck.”

His reaction was sharp and immediate, a barely controlled groan through clenched teeth. You knew his hand was probably fisting the sheets or his thigh right now, trying to stop himself from touching the one thing he couldn’t have—yet.

“Are you still touching yourself?” he asked, voice thick.

“…Yes.”

“Good. Faster.”

The single command shot straight to your gut. Your fingers moved in rhythm with the toy now, chasing the heat blooming deep in your belly. You didn’t even care if he heard your wetness or the whines building in your throat anymore.

“Wish I could see you,” he breathed. “Wish I could have my hand over your mouth. You’re too loud, babe. You’d wake the whole damn building if I fucked you right now.”

“Minho—”

“Not yet,” he cut in. “You’ll come when I say so. Not a second sooner.”

You squeezed around the toy, aching, desperate, toes curling.

“Keep going. Just like that.” His voice was pure sin now, molten and slow. “You’ll come with my voice in your ear and my name on your lips, just like you should’ve that night.”

You whimpered.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say my name.”

“Minho—”

“Louder.”

“Minho.”

“Good girl,” he rasped. “Now come.”

You shattered.

Your back arched off the bed, thighs quaking, moan spilling raw and unfiltered from your lips as your body pulsed around the toy. You didn’t even try to hold it in anymore—he needed to hear it. He deserved to.

Silence stretched on the line after, only your wrecked breathing and the distant rasp of his own breath filling the space between you.

When he finally spoke again, it was with the voice of a man barely holding back his hunger.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he said softly, deadly. “Next time I get my hands on you… I’m not stopping until you forget anyone else ever made you come.”

The call ended.

You blinked at the screen, dazed, thighs still trembling.

But you didn’t sleep.

You changed into the first half-decent outfit you could find, tugged your hoodie over your head, and grabbed your keys with your heart hammering in your throat.

If he wasn’t going to come to you?

You’d damn well go to him.

—

You almost turned around three times. Once at the stoplight. Again when you parked in front of his building. And one last time while standing at his door, staring at the stupid number you’d memorized when you were ten.

You shouldn’t have been here.

But your body didn’t care. Not when it was still buzzing, still throbbing from the orgasm he commanded out of you through the phone not ten minutes ago. Your thighs were sticky, your bottom lip sore from how hard you’d been biting it in the car, nerves coiling in your belly like a wire about to snap.

Showing up like this—unannounced, in shorts that barely passed as clothing, no bra under your thin hoodie—wasn’t just reckless. It was deliberate. Dangerous.

You raised your hand and knocked before you could talk yourself out of it.

Footsteps came quickly. Heavy. The door flew open seconds later, and there he was.

Minho.

Still shirtless.

Sweatpants slung low on his hips. Hair a mess like he’d been pacing. His jaw was tense, chest rising like he hadn’t calmed down since the call ended. His eyes found yours and locked in like he could see through you.

He didn’t say a word.

Just looked at you.

Slow. Hungry. His gaze dragged from your flushed face to the zipper of your hoodie and lower—lingering on your bare thighs.

You shifted, suddenly feeling way too exposed.

“Say something,” you whispered.

His voice came out hoarse.

“You’re insane.”

“I know.”

Another pause. The air between you tightened.

He stepped forward. Just one step—and you backed up, your breath hitching.

“No bra?” he muttered like it hurt him. “You show up like this after what just happened—fuck—”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” You bit your lip, heat crawling up your neck. “I didn’t want to wait.”

That was it.

He snapped.

You didn’t even see him move—just felt the door slam shut behind you as he pushed you up against it, one arm shooting out to lock it without looking. His hands came to either side of your head, bracing himself like he was seconds away from self-destruction.

His breath hit your lips.

Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, like he was holding back something feral.

“Last chance,” he growled. “If you tell me right now you’re not sure, I’ll let you go. I’ll jerk off in the shower until my knees give out and pretend you never begged to come in my ear.”

Your throat tightened.

“I’m sure.”

That was all it took.

His mouth crashed into yours. Hungry. Deep. Unapologetic. It hit you like a wave—his tongue sliding in, his grip tightening, his body pressing flush against yours with an intensity that made your knees buckle.

One hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head, while the other found your waist and gripped—like he was claiming territory.

A moan escaped into his mouth as you clung to his shoulders, pulling him closer, anchoring yourself to the storm that was him.

Minho’s mouth was still glistening with you when he picked you up—one arm under your thighs, the other around your back. He didn’t even blink. Just carried you down the hall like it was nothing, your head pressed to his neck, body boneless from how hard he’d made you come.

His bed was unmade.

Sheets tossed. Pillows scattered. And you were in them seconds later, back hitting the mattress with a bounce.

Minho stood at the edge of the bed and looked at you.

Like he’d waited years for this moment. Like you were a fantasy come to life and he was deciding whether to kneel at your feet or tear you apart.

“You still want this?” he asked, voice low—gravel and smoke.

You didn’t answer. You showed him—legs spreading wider, hips tilting, your hand sliding down to part your slick folds. His eyes darkened.

“Fuck, okay,” he breathed, like he was short-circuiting. “Okay, baby.”

He crawled over you like a shadow, slow and heavy, his mouth finding your jaw first—then your neck, then your collarbone, biting as he went.

“You’ve been mine since we were kids,” he murmured into your skin, tongue flicking over a mark he’d just left. “You just didn’t know it.”

You gasped when his hips rolled against yours, his cock rubbing through your soaked folds, huge and leaking and so hot against your cunt.

“You feel that?” he asked, dragging it up and down—your body arching, chasing it. “You’ve had me like this for years. All those skirts. All that attitude.”

He gripped your jaw, making you look at him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you got careless around me?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out—just a broken breath as he lined up, pressing just the tip in.

Your nails dug into his arms.

“Minho—”

“Shh,” he whispered. “I know, baby. I know.”

Then he pushed in.

Slow. Deep. Relentless.

And holy fuck.

Your eyes slammed shut, jaw dropping in a silent scream as he stretched you open. He didn’t stop until he was fully inside—until his hips were flush with yours and your cunt was full.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned into your neck. “So fucking tight.”

You could barely breathe. Could barely think.

He pulled back just enough to drive back in—and again—again—building a rhythm that knocked the sanity right out of your head.

Minho fucked like he was carving his name into your body.

He was everywhere—teeth on your throat, hands on your tits, hips snapping hard and deep like he needed to ruin you.

And he was talking, too. Filthy. Possessive. All in that growly voice that made your toes curl.

“You gonna let me fill you up, baby?”

“Gonna fuck you so full you feel me for days.”

“You were made for this. For me. For my cock.”

You cried out when he grabbed your thigh and folded you in half, slamming deeper, finding that spot that made your entire body lock up.

“Right there?” he growled, eyes glued to your face. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s your spot.”

You were sobbing now—wet, broken sounds as your second orgasm raced up your spine.

“Minho, please—I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” he snapped. “Right now. All over my cock. Let me feel it.”

And you did. Harder than before—louder, messier, more intense.

You clenched around him like a vice, and he lost it—groaning loud as he slammed in one final time and spilled inside you, hips jerking, body trembling above yours.

He stayed like that—deep and twitching inside you, sweat dripping down his temple, lips ghosting over yours as you both tried to come down.

You didn’t know how long you laid there—legs trembling, his cum leaking out of you, your fingers tangled in the sheets like you were afraid of floating away.

Minho hadn’t moved much either.

He was still inside you, chest to chest, your noses brushing each time he inhaled. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking softly along your jaw as he watched you with those warm, sleepy eyes—eyes that held none of the fury or possessiveness from before.

Just softness. Almost guilt.

“You okay?” he asked, voice husky but gentler now.

You nodded, but your throat was tight. And when you blinked up at him, he leaned down to kiss the corner of your mouth. Then your nose. Then your temple.

“Did I go too far?” he murmured.

“No,” you whispered, your voice small. “I liked it. I liked all of it.”

That made his lips twitch.

“Yeah?” he said, brushing his knuckles across your tits—lingering when your breath caught. “Even when I told you to shut up and take it?”

You swallowed hard. “Especially then.”

He chuckled under his breath and finally pulled out, making both of you hiss. You whined at the emptiness—at how sore and stretched you felt—and Minho’s gaze immediately dropped between your legs.

“Shit,” he muttered, almost reverent. “Look at that mess.”

You flushed, shifting your legs, but he pressed a hand to your thigh to stop you.

“Don’t hide,” he murmured. “You look so good like this. All ruined because of me.”

Then, to your surprise, he slid down the bed and kissed your inner thigh. Just once. Then again. Then right next to your sensitive center.

You flinched. “Minho—too much—”

He smiled and looked up at you from between your legs.

“Alright, baby,” he said. “I’ll be good.”

And he was.

For about two minutes.

Then he kissed his way up your body—lingering on your nipples, dragging his tongue across them until they stiffened again. You whimpered as he sucked softly, then bit gently—making your hips buck.

“I just wanna taste them,” he murmured. “You kept arching for me earlier like they needed attention.”

“They still do,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

He smirked. “Then don’t move.”

He licked and sucked until your chest was wet with his spit and your thighs pressed together again—need building back up in the pit of your stomach like a slow flame.

“Fuck,” you mumbled. “You’re gonna break me.”

He pulled back to look at you.

“Not yet,” he said, voice low. “But you did say you liked sucking cock, didn’t you?”

You blinked. “I—yeah—why—?”

He rolled off you and onto his back, cock already hard again—thick and flushed, still glistening from earlier.

“Then get over here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You crawled down the bed and straddled his thighs, eyes locked on the way he stroked himself, slow and heavy.

He tapped the tip against your lips. “Open up, baby.”

You did.

And he groaned the moment you took him in—just the head at first, tongue swirling around it, your lips tight and wet. He filled your mouth so easily, and you loved the way he shuddered when you gagged on him.

“That’s it,” he breathed, hand sliding into your hair. “So fucking pretty when you’re drooling on my cock.”

You moaned around him, and he twitched.

“You gonna swallow it all?” he asked, voice breaking a little. “You want me to come in your mouth this time?”

You sucked harder, nodding with tears in your eyes, and that was it.

He cursed—hips jerking, cock thickening—and seconds later he was spilling down your throat, one hand on your head as his other clutched the sheets.

You swallowed everything.

Every drop.

When you finally pulled off, eyes glassy and lips swollen, Minho reached for you and pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead like he hadn’t just fucked your mouth like a man possessed.

“Now,” he whispered, pulling the blanket over both of you, “lets get some sleep.”

⸻

The morning light slipped in through the blinds in soft gold stripes, painting lazy patterns across the room.

You blinked awake slowly, body aching in the most indulgent way, wrapped in the scent of skin and sweat and fabric softener. The hoodie you had worn here last night was still crumpled somewhere on the floor—probably next to your shorts, your underwear, your dignity.

Minho’s arm was heavy around your waist. His chest was warm against your back. His breath ghosted over your shoulder in quiet puffs, slow and steady.

It didn’t feel real. It felt like one of those fantasies you used to jerk yourself off to in the dark, flushed and breathless, thinking about what it would feel like to fall asleep tangled up in him like this—after.

You stayed still as long as you could, just… absorbing it.

And then, of course, he ruined it by murmuring against your neck, voice still thick with sleep.

“Your thighs are twitching.”

You groaned. “Maybe because you almost broke them last night.”

He chuckled, low and pleased, then slid his hand over your hip and gave your inner thigh a light squeeze. “You came here cause you wanted me to do exactly that.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly. “Don’t remind me.”

“Why not? It’s my favorite memory now.”

You rolled over to face him, hair a mess, eyes still sleep-fogged. He looked unfairly gorgeous in the morning. Hair tousled. Eyes soft. The roughness from last night completely gone, replaced by something almost too gentle to be him.

He looked at you like he was thinking way too hard.

“What?” you asked quietly.

He reached up, brushed some hair from your face, fingers lingering at your jaw.

“You know this isn’t just sex for me, right?”

Your breath caught.

“I mean…” he licked his lips, eyes searching yours. “It can be, if that’s what you want. But I don’t think I can go back to just being your best friend. Not after this.”

You didn’t answer right away. Just stared at him, trying to collect your heart off the floor where it had just dropped.

Finally, you whispered, “I don’t want to go back either.”

Minho exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding that breath all night.

Then he leaned in and kissed you—soft and slow and sweet, like the question was already answered.

You melted into it. Into him. Into the shift.

Later, you’d get up. He’d make coffee. You’d steal one of his shirts. He’d tease you about the bite marks on your thighs. And you’d both pretend not to notice how domestic it already felt.

But for now, you stayed in bed—best friends turned something more—with his arms around you and your future somewhere in the spaces between his kisses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: hi guys! Ok so the poll results from the Leeknow angry boy fic came out and it was a really close one. So instead of changing whats already written i decided to upload this to make it up to you guys! This is not an angst story or the angry boy replacement but this is a story for my romantics ❤️ Thanks alot for all your feedback really love you guys!

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids s @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @universeyuto @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki

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yaorzu-blog · 1 month ago

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Our Overseers

Know what you are stepping into : Heaven = Fluff/Angst ; Hell = Smut

Their Heaven :

SKZ as First Encounters [Romance Tropes] "I Guess I Never Knew You." [Cheater!SKZ]

"...Who is this?" [WrongNumber!SKZ] "Are You Serious?" [RedFlag!SKZ] | "Good Luck, Babe." Marriage? Marriage. "As We Are" [ANGST] Being Their Stylist Bad Habits

Their Hell :

"Not A Want, But A Need." Perv!SKZ "Not a Need, But A Craving." Perv!SKZ "Where else was I supposed to sit?" Lap Sitting w/ SKZ Hand Placement w/ SKZ "First Time's The Charm?" [First BJ!SKZ] " First TIme's The Charm?" [First Time!SKZ] "Masked Pleasures" Mask Kink w/ SKZ "Maybe One More." Dilf!SKZ Slow Makeouts Matchmaking SKZ + Bulking "Spoiled Rotten" [Sugar Daddy!] "But what do I know?" [Virgin!]

Messy, messy boys. Sneaky, sneaky boys. Greedy, greedy boys.

SKZ + Head SKZ + Hands SKZ + Sharing

.Guess. [Charlie xcx ft. Billie Eilish]

SKZ Cock Analysis

Other Anomalies:

KINKTOBER 2024

Stray Temptations 7:15 - Chan | 8:30 - Chan 7:00 - Jisung

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yaorzu-blog · 2 months ago

Text

THE BODYGUARD

Leeknow x Fem Reader

Tags: Mafia au, smut, bodyguard, guns, seduction, wall sex, unprotected sex (again i need to seek help), dom leeknow

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Your father hired Lee Know to protect you—not rail you into the kitchen counter like a man possessed. Unfortunately, you’ve always had a thing for bad decisions and pretty men with guns.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stood at your bedroom door like he always did—arms crossed, eyes forward, jaw locked in that annoyingly perfect angle that made him look carved from stone.

Lee Know. Your father’s “most loyal enforcer.”

Or, as you liked to call him: Mr. Emotionally Constipated with the Arms of a Greek God.

You grinned.

Tonight’s outfit? A silky robe, just barely tied.

No bra. No shame.

You padded across the room toward the door, pretending not to notice the way his eyes flicked to the deep V of your cleavage before snapping back to the wall across from him.

“Hey, Minho.”

You never called him that.

He hated it. Which made you love it.

He didn’t look at you. “It’s Lee Know to you.”

“Mmm. You sure about that?” You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms just enough to push your tits up a little more. “We’ve known each other a week. You’re practically my emotional support assassin.”

“I’m here to protect you,” he said, voice clipped. “That’s all.”

“Then why do you keep looking at my legs?”

He blinked once. Twice.

“I’m trained to be aware of everything in my surroundings.”

You gave him a slow, wicked smile. “So you’re very aware of my legs, then?”

Nothing. Not a twitch.

But you didn’t miss the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed.

⸻

You tested him again the next night.

He was seated at the kitchen counter, cleaning his gun. You walked in wearing one of your father’s old oversized button-downs and absolutely nothing underneath.

“Oops,” you said sweetly when the hem lifted just enough as you reached up for a glass. “Hope this isn’t distracting.”

He didn’t even look up. “Wear pants.”

“But I’m in my house,” you pouted. “You’re the guest here, baby.”

That earned a pause.

He looked up, eyes sharp. “Don’t call me that.”

You leaned in close. “Why not? Scared you might like it?”

A long stare.

No answer.

But the way he gripped his gun a little tighter said everything.

⸻

By the third night, you were bored.

So you sat on the couch in the living room, thighs spread just a little wider than necessary in your tiny sleep shorts, licking a popsicle like it owed you money.

Lee Know was standing across the room, pretending not to watch.

You moaned.

“Mm… so good…”

His jaw tensed.

You bit the tip of the popsicle and let it melt down your fingers. “Sticky…”

He finally turned.

“Go to bed.”

You smiled sweetly. “Make me.”

For a second—just one second—you saw it. The flash of something dark in his eyes. Something dangerous.

Then it was gone.

He turned back around.

You bit back a grin.

You were going to break him.

⸻

“I’m not some delicate little doll,” you said, arms crossed as you stood in front of Lee Know on the private gym mat.

He looked completely unimpressed. Black compression shirt hugging his chest, sleeves rolled, cargo pants sitting low on his hips. “You get kidnapped twice in a month and your dad thinks that means you need training.”

You smirked. “You saying you don’t want to pin me down, Mr. Bodyguard?”

He didn’t answer.

Just stepped forward. Way too close. One swift movement and your wrist was in his grip, your back hitting the mat in a blur.

You gasped.

His body hovered over yours, one knee between your thighs, palm flat on your chest—not groping. Controlling. Holding you down like it was second nature.

“You’re dead,” he said.

You looked up at him, breath shallow. “Is this how you treat all your clients?”

“Only the ones who try to seduce me in silk robes and lick popsicles like they’re dicks.”

Your jaw dropped.

He smirked.

So he had been watching.

You shifted beneath him, pressing your thigh against his. “So what now? You gonna kill me again?”

Lee Know didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

But his eyes dropped—slowly—from your face to your mouth… then lower. You could feel the tension radiating off him like a furnace.

He was so close. So firm. So restrained.

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“This is exactly why I shouldn’t touch you.”

And then—he pushed off you and stood.

Just like that.

Leaving you breathless on the mat and soaked.

—

Three hours later, gunfire broke out.

It wasn’t a drill.

Your father’s estate was under attack and Lee Know had you thrown into the back of a black SUV, barking orders into his comms while gripping your hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Now you were in a cold, dark safehouse on the edge of the city. Just the two of you. You were still in your thin tank top and sleep shorts from earlier, blood humming with adrenaline.

Lee Know paced the room like a caged animal.

“Why aren’t you wearing more clothes?” he snapped.

You laughed, breathless. “Sorry, didn’t get the ‘bulletproof chic’ memo. I was too busy being evacuated under gunfire.”

He turned. His eyes dropped to your thighs. Stayed there.

You didn’t move.

He took a step forward.

“I should’ve left you with someone else,” he muttered. “I can’t think straight around you.”

Your heart pounded. “Then don’t think.”

Then you were against the wall. Just like that.

His hand slid between your legs, pressing firmly against your core through the thin fabric.

“You like this?” he hissed. “Flirting with danger? Teasing me until I lose my goddamn mind?”

You moaned. “Yes—yes, fuck, I wanted you to snap—”

He pushed your shorts aside, fingers slipping through your folds, cursing under his breath when he felt how wet you already were.

“You’re soaked.”

“I’ve been soaked,” you gasped, clinging to him. “Ever since you pinned me to that mat—”

He silenced you with his mouth on your neck and two fingers sliding inside you in one slow, deep thrust. You cried out, hips jerking, the cold wall at your back nothing compared to the heat of him in front of you.

His other hand clamped over your mouth. “Quiet. They might still be listening.”

The idea that danger was right outside—that someone could burst through the door—only made it hotter.

He fucked you with his fingers like he knew your body better than you did. Curling, pumping, dragging out desperate little gasps with every movement.

“You don’t even know what you’re playing with,” he growled in your ear. “You think seducing your bodyguard is just for fun? You wanna see what happens when I stop holding back?”

You came hard—biting into his shoulder to keep quiet, legs shaking, walls fluttering around his fingers.

He held you through it.

Then slowly—so slowly—he pulled back.

Your breathing was ragged. Your legs barely held you up.

He didn’t touch you again.

Didn’t even look at you.

⸻

You sat in silence for what felt like hours.

He was across the room now, back against the wall, fists clenched. The air was heavy with guilt and leftover lust.

“…We shouldn’t have done that,” he said, voice low.

You didn’t answer.

Because you knew he was right.

And still—your body was still aching. Still pulsing with the echo of his fingers inside you.

“I can’t protect you if I’m thinking about fucking you.”

You looked at him and whispered:

“Then maybe you should just fuck me and get it over with.”

He looked at you like you’d just pulled the pin on a grenade.

Lee Know’s jaw flexed, a vein twitching in his neck as your words hung in the air—dangerous and impossible to ignore.

“Don’t,” he warned, voice strained like he was barely holding himself together.

But you didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Something in you liked the way he looked at you—like you were both the problem and the answer.

“You’ve already touched me,” you said, stepping forward slowly. “Already had your fingers inside me. What’s one more mistake?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, like he was praying for strength—or forgiveness. Then he pushed off the wall, stalking toward you in two long strides.

You gasped when your back hit the cold surface behind you, his hands braced on either side of your head. His breath hitched near your ear, voice barely more than a growl.

“This is a bad idea.”

You tilted your chin up, breath shallow. “Then make it worse.”

And that was it. The match to gasoline.

He crashed his mouth against yours, all teeth and tongue, like he was punishing you for wanting this—punishing himself for needing it. His hands found your hips, gripping tight, dragging your body flush against his as he ground his thigh between your legs.

You moaned into the kiss, arms wrapping around his shoulders, nails digging into the muscle beneath his shirt. He lifted you like you weighed nothing, pinning you to the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist.

“You’re a fucking brat,” he muttered, lips against your jaw, your throat, your collarbone. “Driving me insane on purpose.”

You whimpered, fingers threading through his hair. “So do something about it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

His mouth was on you like he’d starved for it—like the past week of resisting had built into a pressure so unbearable, now he could only consume. Teeth grazed the column of your throat, then bit down hard enough to leave a mark.

“You wanted this?” he growled, voice like gravel as he pulled back to look at you, pupils blown wide. “Then you take it.”

You gasped as he turned, still holding you up, and threw you onto the small kitchen counter behind him. The edge dug into your thighs, cold against your overheated skin, but you didn’t have time to complain—his mouth was already back on yours, hands tugging at your shirt like it offended him.

Fabric tore. You didn’t care.

He shoved your bra up with one hand and sucked a bruising kiss over your breast, tongue dragging over your nipple before he bit. You cried out, fingers tangled in his hair, and he groaned like the sound went straight to his cock.

“You’ve been teasing me for days,” he hissed, dropping to his knees in front of the counter. “Walking around in those tiny fucking shorts, bending over on purpose—”

You barely had time to moan his name before he yanked your underwear down and buried his face between your thighs. His tongue was ravenous, licking into you with a low growl like you were the only thing that could satisfy him.

Your legs shook. He held them open.

And when you came—grinding into his face, thighs squeezing his head—he looked up at you with slick lips and dark eyes and said, “We’re not done.”

He lifted you again, carried you like a doll, and slammed you onto the coffee table. It cracked under you.

You didn’t care.

He pulled his shirt off, chest heaving, hair wild, cock straining against his pants. “I’m going to fuck you on every surface in this goddamn safe house.”

“Then stop talking,” you panted. “And do it.”

His laugh was dark and dangerous. “You asked for this.”

He yanked his pants down, lined himself up, and when he slammed into you—deep, thick, punishing—you screamed. He didn’t slow down. Didn’t give you a second to adjust. He just took.

The table groaned beneath you. So did you.

He bent over you, one hand gripping your throat, thumb stroking your jaw. “This what you wanted, baby?”

“Y-Yes—fuck—Lee Know—”

He snapped his hips. “Say my name.”

“Minho!”

“That’s better.”

And then he flipped you over.

The coffee table had barely survived the first round—legs splintered, your body a mess of sweat and come and aching thighs. But Minho wasn’t finished. Not even close.

He dragged you by the wrist, still naked, still panting, across the living room toward the tiny kitchen sink. The sirens were wailing faintly in the distance now, maybe backup, maybe enemies. You didn’t care. Neither did he.

“You think this is a game?” he snarled, shoving your front against the counter, your hands splaying on the cool metal of the sink.

“I was bored,” you whined, arching your back for him. “You were no fun—”

SMACK.

His palm cracked across your ass so loud it echoed.

“You call this no fun?”

Another thrust—hard and deep—and you choked on your breath, eyes rolling as he gripped your hips and used you, hips snapping forward like he was claiming what had always been his.

“I was protecting you,” he hissed into your ear. “Keeping you alive. And all you could think about was getting me to fuck you like a little slut?”

You whimpered, walls clenching around him, making him groan as he fucked you deeper.

“You are a slut,” he growled, hand snaking around to rub fast, ruthless circles on your clit. “My bratty little mafia princess. Couldn’t keep her legs closed for five goddamn minutes.”

You came with a sob, body collapsing over the counter, and he didn’t stop—he just kept fucking you through it like he owned you. Like nothing outside that safe house mattered.

The walls rattled with distant explosions. A rumble of danger shook the floor.

He didn’t flinch.

You gasped, “What if they find us?”

His hand tangled in your hair, yanked your head back. “Let them hear you.”

He pulled out, only to flip you around again—lifted you onto the counter this time, angled your legs open like a man possessed.

“I’ll protect you,” he said, voice feral. “Even if I have to kill every last one of them. But right now, I’m going to ruin you.”

And he did.

He fucked you right there, on the kitchen counter, while chaos raged outside. One hand on your neck, the other gripping your thigh, pounding into you like he didn’t care if the world burned.

And still—still—he wasn’t finished.

Later, he threw you onto the couch, legs dangling over the side, pushing your knees to your chest.

“This is for every time you walked around in silk with no bra.”

Thrust.

“For every time you touched me and pretended it meant nothing.”

Thrust.

“For every night I had to jerk off in the shower like some fucking teenager while you moaned my name in the next room.”

You were crying now—overstimulated, fucked out, and loving every second. He kissed you for the first time that night—really kissed you. Deep and messy, tongue claiming yours as he gave you everything, took everything in return.

Eventually, when your body couldn’t take anymore, he finally carried you to the bed.

Slower now. Gentler. Still rough, but different—like the danger had dulled, and only desire remained.

He sank into you again, forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m gonna own you,” he whispered.

You nodded weakly. “I’ve always been yours.”

⸻

You woke up to the scent of him.

Sweat. Sex. Gunpowder still clinging to his clothes somewhere on the floor.

Your thighs were sore. Bruised. Used. You didn’t care. You felt claimed—wrecked in the best way.

Minho lay beside you, chest rising and falling steadily, one arm thrown lazily over your waist like he hadn’t just rearranged your insides six different ways across the safe house.

You smiled.

And then you heard it.

Click.

The sound of a gun being cocked.

Minho’s eyes snapped open.

“Stay here,” he muttered, already on his feet. Still naked. Still glowing with that post-fuck heat, but now he was all bodyguard again—sharp, lethal, dangerous.

He grabbed his weapon from the nightstand, racked a round like it was second nature, and glanced back at you—eyes wild but focused.

“If I come back covered in blood,” he growled, “you’re letting me finish what I started.”

You blinked. “You already did—like—four times—”

His smirk was evil. “Not nearly enough.”

Gun in hand, he stalked toward the front door, every muscle in his back flexing, footsteps silent. You didn’t even try to stop the shiver that ran down your spine.

Minutes passed.

A shot rang out. Then another. A scream. A thud.

You sat there, naked, wrapped in a blanket, thighs pressed together, still aching.

When Minho came back, blood splattered across his chest and cheek, eyes gleaming, you swore your soul left your body.

“All clear,” he said, dropping the gun to the floor. “Now where were we?”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me—”

He stalked toward you, grabbing your ankle and yanking you down the bed with a wicked grin.

“I told you. Every surface.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: now thats the kinda Leeknow i have in my daydreams 🫣😍 so daddyyyyy

You know the drill, drop that like, a comment and REBLOGGGGG!!!

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yaorzu-blog · 2 months ago

Text

LOVE TO HATE YOU

pairing: idol! Hyunjin x Manager! Reader

genre: smut, angst, enemies to lovers

tags: 18+ mdni, unprotected sex, praise (f receiving), oral (m,f), power imbalance, choking, hate sex, dom hyunjin, body worship, use of pet names, filthy smut etc, slight degradation .

word count: 7k

summary: you're the youngest manager of stray kids and you love everything about your job except for Hyunjin who swore to make it a living hell for you. That evening, you get into a very heated argument, and you happen to find out just how much Hyunjin really wanted you and how easily you gave in to him.

Authors note: I had this brain rot stuck in my head for the longest time and I'm uploading it just in time for Hyunjin's 25th birthday.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No, I wasn’t the one who got you banned from painting Hyunjin! That was all you." you storm into the dorm, Hyunjin hot on your tail.

"Well, it’s you who has my studio keys, don’t you!"

In the living area Jisung, Minho and Changbin look up to see what all the fuss is about. They're used to this, their bandmate and youngest manager fighting. You did this all the time, usually about something so silly, but you and Hyunjin were always at each other’s throats.

You had joined the company shortly after stray kids dropped down a member, just fresh out of college, you started your internship at Div1 in 2020 where you met the boys in their early career stage. You got along with all of them pretty well, seeing as you were also within their age bracket, you were a 97 liner just like Chan the leader of the band, and with your musical knowledge and managerial skills, you earned their respect pretty quickly. That is, everyone except Hyunjin.

For some reason, Hyunjin just LOVED to challenge you, from the very first day you were assigned first line manager to Stray Kids, he took it upon himself to argue with you whenever you tried to do your job, you weren’t even any better because you indulged him, out of all the members it was like Hyunjin just rubbed you the wrong way, you never saw eye to eye but while you were suffering, his members thought it was funny and liked to tease the both of you about arguing like a married couple.

Neither of you could pinpoint what the problem really was, but you knew Hyunjin was a brat to you since you met him and you eventually stopped trying to play nice.

Today however, Hyunjin accused you of reporting him to the management because he had been getting really carried away since they let him have his art studio, He started to show up late for recordings, dance practice and just yesterday he missed his scheduled photoshoot with Marie Claire because he was too busy painting himself probably naked and he had his phone on airplane mode the whole day, while the entire company was going crazy looking for him.

Just because you happened to find him yourself at the end of the day after which you gave him a piece of your mind, to which of course Hyunjin rolled his eyes and told you to stop being a drama queen. Div1 collectively decided to put a ban on his studio usage and asked you to lock the place up, which you gladly did but Hyunjin was livid. He blamed you for it of course.

"You didn’t listen when I’d been warning you about it this whole time!" You pointed out, throwing up your hands in frustration before dropping down next to Changbin on the sofa, wanting to ignore Hyunjin and whatever else he had to say.

"Hey don’t ignore me! Give it back." he says, crossing his arms.

"Go take it up with Div1" you say flatly, pretending to care about the League of legends game being played on the flat screen.

"Y/n I’m your idol, you should respect me."

Your eyes snap to Hyunjin, narrowing in anger. "Excuse me?"

Awkwardly the other three pretend to focus on the tv. It was insane to them how much you two fought. Somehow, you both didn't seem to care if you had an audience.

"What!" he snaps.

"First of all, show me some respect, its manager y/n to you!" You get back up again. "And just who the hell do you think you are? You didn’t give me this job so you don’t speak to me like that!"

"Literally who cares? Give me back my fucking keys!"

"You're—" You groan. "You're impossible, you know that right?"

"Me?! have you met yourself?"

You get closer to the younger man, jabbing a finger in his chest as you speak. "You don't get to call me impossible; you literally spend hours in that goddamn studio of yours, ignoring everything and everyone, you have a job to do just as much I do, instead you prefer to play with water colors like a child and make problems for me."

Hyunjin pushes your hand off, moving in closer as well. "You're just mad you have a shitty job cleaning up after me and the guys and those fucking water colors can cover your salary for a year, you show me some fucking respect!" he spat.

"Oh, fuck you Hyunjin!" You yell, sitting back down next to Changbin. They all-except you-glare up at Hyunjin because that was really uncalled for.

"What?!" Hyunjin asks. "She started it"

"Dude." Minho sighs.

"You know, even if I was unfortunate enough to get stuck babysitting your overgrown ass, which I do a pretty damn good job of, at least we can all agree that I earned my position as the youngest manager in Div1 because I put in the damn work. Unlike you who gets everything handed to you but you’re still a mid-rapper and a shitty artist." you say smirking, your eyes still on the tv, though you were glad to see his three other band members nod beside you, all of them now ignoring Hyunjin.

"I’m not a shitty Artist, and I’m a great rapper and dancer which is a lot of work." Hyunjin goes to sit beside you but you get up, forcing yourself between Changbin and Minho.

"Well so are Changbin and Minho, but I don't see them having an attitude problem like you do." You throw back, talking over Changbin who presses himself further into the couch.

"They're different from me, I work different." Hyunjin replied now also talking over poor Changbin.

"You are always so rude to me! You don’t even care about your job as an idol and you take everything for granted. You realize you’re not always going to be popular right?"

"Me?! tell me, how is it that I take everything for granted? enlighten me because now you're just throwing words around!" Hyunjin says as Changbin quietly watches your faces get closer over him.

"Dude?! You literally just missed your first Givenchy Beauty photoshoot at Marie Claire! Did you also forget that you’re about to be announced as the new ambassador through that photo shoot?! What is wrong with you? No really." you scoff before turning to find a different seat, needing to put more distance between you before you smacked the stupid idol.

"Oh my God! I said I lost track of time and I genuinely thought the shoot was for today, I didn’t miss my shoot on purpose, does that even make any sense?" he asked looking exasperated.

"Then go take it up with Div1 and not me, I’m only doing my shitty job and I didn’t make the decision to ban you from your stupid studio! Don’t shoot the messenger." You say, sarcasm dripping off every word.

"Well, you’re the Div1 I see and you have my keys, so I’m taking it up with you but you're not listening." He snapped back at you rolling his eyes.

"Okay guys, can we take a little breather? what happened?" Minho asks, finally deciding to butt in.

"Hyung, y/n took my studio keys, after going to snitch on me to management." Hyunjin pouted to Minho and you just shook your head.

"Again, I didn’t snitch. But we can all agree that you need to focus more on your actual job and less on that hobby of yours though."

"Who are you to decide!" Hyunjin argues.

"Your manager damn it!" you raise your voice, he was really starting to piss you off and wear you out, where was Chan when you needed him?

"Don’t you think you’re taking your little job a little too seriously though?" He smirked and folded his hands, trying to taunt you.

"Hyunjin stop it, you’re being disrespectful now." Minho talks a little softer but glaring pointedly at the younger man. “First off, she’s our manager and a noona so you will address her properly”

Hyunjin was silent but glaring at you with all his might, it was like you both were having a glaring match. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Changbin sign to Jisung and Minho to get up off the sofa.

“Noona, I think y’all need to talk this out. You both argue way too much to be considered normal, so the rest of us are just going to give you guys some space” Changbin said, stuffing his hands in his pockets while looking between the two of you.

“Please don’t kill each other, but at least talk whatever it is out yeah?” Minho added, pulling Jisung behind him and towards the front door.

“We’ll be at my dorm if you need us!” Jisung called out just before the door shut behind him.

You scoffed; they were unbelievable. They did not just leave you in here with a thick headed Hyunjin to argue unsupervised. Not that you needed anyone around to handle him for you or that you felt unsafe around him, no. You just knew there would be no truce or talking it out with him, you had been at each other’s necks for years now so what was the point.

You grabbed your phone from the couch ignoring Hyunjin who was still silently glaring at you, waiting for you to say something to keep up the argument. You were about to go around him to make your way over to the exit too when he grabbed your elbow and pulled you back in front of the couch.

“Sit down” he nearly growled, his anger radiating off of him.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" you asked, not yet pushing his hands off but you raised your chin, daring him to say it again.

"I said, sit." he pushes you back. You stumble and fall back onto the couch, eyes nearly spitting fire. He did NOT just manhandle you!

"Are you crazy?" you nearly scream. “Did you just push me?!”

Hyunjin smirks and lowers his head to level with yours, he grabs your chin this time. "Yes, now sit still and shut up."

What the hell was happening? In all the countless arguments with Hyunjin, he had never ever touched you or went this far, you knew he was angry and you were as well because he refused to see reason with you. It was like he had been waiting for an opportunity to take it all out on you, because to be honest, the studio thing wasn’t even as serious as he was trying to make it seem, 48 hours tops and he would have gotten the keys back.

What was even more baffling to you was the blatant disregard for your authority or age even, you were older by three whole years and Hyunjin treated you like a little girl. In that moment you saw red, you were going to smack his pretty face if he didn’t back the fuck up.

“Get the fuck out of my face Hyunjin” you warn, seething.

“You really don’t listen, do you? Noona…” he added the honorific as an afterthought, and with a lot of sarcasm.

Now you were confused. The way your body reacted to him calling you noona in this present situation was a bit weird, also you had no idea why Hyunjin was suddenly being like this, disregarding your personal space and talking to you in this manner. If there was one thing Hyunjin never did since you met each other, it was address you the way his members except Chan did, it was either ‘Miss manager’ or regular old ‘y/n’

“I don’t know what you’re really trying to achieve by pissing me off, but you need to stop this shit right now.”

You tried to push Hyunjin off so you could get up but he didn’t really budge so you took the keys out of your pocket and slammed them against his chest.

"Here are your fucking keys, now please let me leave!" you yell, breathing heavily.

"Too late, I don’t want them anymore" he let the keys fall to your laps without making an attempt to take them, instead he locked eyes with you and held it, tilting his head in the usual manner he did when he suddenly found things interesting and it unnerved you.

"Hyunjin, move!" you warn, leaning back as he brought his face closer to try to intimidate you. “What the hell is your problem? Really”

“Oh, I could ask you the same noona, please enlighten me”

"I don't like you period. You're a loud-mouthed, egotistical, selfish, disrespectful and narcissistic fucking wreck of a idol!" You snap back at his face raising your shoulders to square up with him again.

Deep down you were starting to get worried, as much as you thought arguing with Hyunjin was entertaining in a fucked-up way, you didn’t really want things to escalate or get physical, and you knew saying some certain things to him was really unacceptable, at the end of the day you did work for him.

"I smell a lie in there y/n, you do like me. You might try to deny it but I see the way you react when I call you noona, also you could just ignore my tantrums but you do indulge me as much as I do you, admit it”

You glare at each other for a moment, the next thing you know the two of you move and then you're kissing. Your hands fist Hyunjin’s shirt and his hands move to grab the back of your neck. You feel your heart beating out of your chest, not sure what is happening, you didn't want this to get physical sure, but you had never imagined the two of you getting physical like this.

You push him off quickly, gathering your senses again. "No, what the fuck? What are you doing?” you said, eyes wide and staring at him like he grew two heads.

Hyunjin’s eyes follow your lips as you try to wipe it with the back of your hand, in your panic you hadn’t realized that his hand was still at the back of your neck, then his eyes moved up to meet your shocked ones, something in his gaze had changed and you were smart enough to understand that it had shifted from just annoyance to lust and hunger, a look you knew all too well but never expected to receive from Hwang Hyunjin.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he muttered under his breath, entrancing you with his sharp eyes.

You swallowed; your body started to betray you by no longer trying to force your way out of the corner in the couch that he had backed you into. It didn’t help that he was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, a fact that you actively chose to ignore while doing your job and dealing with his shenanigans but taking in the current situation had you blushing. His taste lingered on your tongue and you could smell him being so close to you. Hyunjin did smell divine.

"So, you're admitting you threw tantrums because you wanted attention?" you ask, choosing completely to ignore what Hyunjin had just revealed.

He groans. "If you don't shut up right now…"

"What Hyunjin? you're going to kiss me again?” you challenged. You really should have been shutting this whole thing down but it was like your mouth had a mind of its own and just decided to do whatever.

"Don’t test me, I could do worse things!" This time it was Hyunjin who backed down, leaving you enough room to actually push him off and hurry to your feet to put some distance between you.

You picked up the nearest throw pillow and launched it at him "You are so unbelievable you fucking prick, stay away from me asshole!" you yelled, throwing another pillow which he caught and tossed aside. he walked over, his long legs swiftly closing the distance and caught your wrist and then the other, pulling you flush against him.

"You need to fucking behave." he says lowly. "Admit it, you want me just as much."

You glared at him. "What are you even saying Hyunjin? The last thing I want to do is be in the same room with you right now, much less want you!”

“Then why did you just kiss me?”

“YOU kissed me Hyunjin!” you argued, knowing fully well that was a lie.

“Do you want me to prove it again?” he smirks, still holding your hands.

“Let go of me right now, this isn’t funny”

“Then apologize for the shit you said to me." He counters

You scoff. "No."

You pushed him off, or at least you tried to but Hyunjin was much stronger, holding you even tighter. “Well then you’re not going anywhere.”

“What?!”

“You heard Hyung, we have to fix whatever our problem is, and…” then he bent to your ear to whisper the next part, “They did give us the whole dorm”

Heat rose to your cheeks at the implication of what he said, Hyunjin was being way out of line, this was clearly a game to him, he obviously wanted to assert dominance in whatever fucked up dynamic it was that you both had, and if he thought you would cower away and be scared of him then he had another thing coming, you vowed to never let him get the upper hand.

"You're being a dick and for what? you know I’m right; you just don't want to admit you're wrong because you’ve been nothing but unreasonable and disrespectful to me!". You were now close enough that if one of you moved an inch, you’d be kissing. Again.

"And what do you think you’re doing trying to intimidate me? Hyunjin you’re a man child, you’re talking about an empty dorm like you would know the first thing to do with a woman if you had the chance?"

"Y/n." Hyunjin warned, his jaw locked in annoyance as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"Did I strike a nerve Hyunjinnie." You said sweetly, tilting your head to the left taunting him.

"Shut. up." He says through gritted teeth.

You smirk. "Make me."

Hyunjin snaps, dragging you out of the living room and down the hallway. Your smirk instantly drops when you find yourself being dragged, his hand tight on your wrist like a vice. You tried tugging back but he was much stronger. "What are you doing?!"

Hyunjin threw open the door to his bedroom, pushing you inside and slamming it shut. "Making you finally shut the fuck up."

You were panicking, this was escalating way too fast, you thought about screaming for help but that was when it dawned on you that you really were alone in the dorm with an angry and possibly horny Hyunjin. Right there behind the anger in his eyes, lust and hunger swam in his dark orbs, he was breathing hard and clenching his fists, it didn’t seem like he was going to hurt you but it did feel like you had dug yourself into a hole you couldn’t get out of unscathed.

Your eyes dart around his room frantically, you also just realized that you had never been in there before, it smelled like sandalwood, roses and Hyunjin. You felt so small in his space and suddenly so utterly aroused.

"What do you me-” your words got stuck in your throat as soon as he started to stalk towards you.

As he closed the distance, his hand settled at the back of your head, pulling on your hair to make you tilt back and look up at him. "When I say shut up," with a smug look he forces you down to your knees. “You shut your damn mouth Noona”

"Hyunjin!"

"No, I’m tired of that big smart mouth of yours." undoing his belt while you glared up at him with you uselessly grabbing at his fist in your hair, Hyunjin takes out his cock, already half hard and pumping it to full hardness.

"My big smart mouth?! I’m going to bite it off if you come any closer, I swear to God." You threaten, eyeing the massive cock in his hand apprehensively.

"Try me noona, if I feel your teeth, you're getting spanked." he threatened before moving his cock to your lips, He paused for a moment to look at you, raising his brow slightly as if to ask ‘you okay with this? do you want me to stop or go ahead?’. Even in Hyunjin’s anger he would never ever blindly assume he could go ahead without any form of consent.

Your glare breaks for a second, you stare up at him and back at his cock waving tantalizingly close to your mouth, you would be a liar if you said you didn’t want this, all the arguments and the kiss felt like foreplay leading up to this. You were still so unbelievably mad at Hyunjin but at the same time he did strange things to your body, your body betrayed you a lot whenever it came to him it was like you wanted to kill him and fuck him at the same time.

For some reason, you felt like you belonged right there on your knees with his hand fisting your hair and forcing you to submit to him, it even turned you on more that he still silently asked for consent despite manhandling you all over the place. The corners of your mouth curled up, your head moving only slightly to nod.

You obediently opened your mouth to take Hyunjin, willingly. He shoved his cock in, not giving you any time to adjust. you gagged slightly but you weren’t offered a break. Hyunjin pushed you further down, holding you there with his cock lodged deep in your throat, your body ignited, drool dripped out the corners of your mouth as you tried your hardest to take it without choking.

"Not so mouthy anymore, are we?" He taunts.

Your jaw twitched, almost showing Hyunjin how dangerous it was to mess with someone who had his dick in their mouth. Thankfully, the implied threat made him hold back. Hyunjin pulled you off, allowing you just enough time to suck in a lung full of air before you were roughly being shoved back down. He fucked your mouth so mercilessly that you struggled to breathe, rather you made a mess of yourself with all the drool and tears.

It was a lot to take, a cock that big and you were running out of breath, you hold him by the base and pull off so you could catch your breath and when Hyunjin whines you start stroking him with your hands.

“Someone’s eager,” He lilts, and then laughs again, throwing his head back. You look up to face him this time, your chest rising and falling quickly.

“I’m eager?” You grit out, eyebrow twitching, “You’re the one who basically dragged me in here and shoved your dick in my mouth, and now you’re whining like a little bitch” you rise up to your feet, your hand still slowly stroking his wet cock, you kept eye contact and pressed your body into him.

His smirk disappeared; pupils blown out with lust. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to say something, but instead he spins you around, you gasp when you feel his hands grip your hips to pull you into his body. You feel his length press against your ass, and you lean back, grinding into him.

“You should tell me if you want me to stop, Y/n,” He grunts, voice hoarse. His hands roam up your body, hovering over your tits, “But I know you don’t want me to, do you? You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

At the last word he covers and squeezes your breast roughly– you’re not wearing a bra. He snickers, pinching your hard nipple over the thin cloth of your blouse. You swallow a moan, mouth already dry. He stills, and then spins you around again towards him roughly. He begins to walk forward with you, forcing you to take a step back and towards his desk. His hand grips your chin like before, but rougher this time.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, noona,” He grits out, eyes dark. You bite your lip; you can feel the power you thought you had over him disappear in this moment.

“Fine, yes,” You spit, “I’ve been thinking about you… but it’s not like it’s one sided.” You wrap your hands behind his neck, pulling him closer to you, kissing up his neck. You feel his body tighten, a groan rasping up his throat. You nip at him, up towards his ear, standing on your tip toes to reach him. “Is this how you imagined me Hyunjin? Or should I show you the other fantasies you’ve had?” He grips your ass tightly in response to this.

“Safe word is green,” He grunts roughly, grabbing your throat lightly and pushing your head upwards to gain access to your neck. He kisses down your throat, biting and sucking, surely leaving marks you’ll find later.

“Get on that bed and get undressed,” He commands, and despite all of your pride, you oblige, eager for more. You make your way towards the bed, looking over your shoulder at him. There’s no anger in his eyes anymore– only the look of a hunter stalking his prey.

You climb onto the bed, turning to face him. He looked so pretty like this, eyes half lidded with lust, jaw slack and breathing hard. He began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his toned abs, shoulders, sharp collarbones. You could only stare in awe.

“Didn’t I tell you to get undressed,” He says, voice deep and dangerous, “Do I have to ask you again? I won’t be so nice the second time.”

You smirk at him, fingers picking at the hem of your blouse, slowly you pulled it over your head your leggings following immediately after. You hear him suck in a breath, eyes boring into your body, your black lace thong was the only thing left on you. He makes his way towards you at an agonizingly slow pace, pulling out his belt from the loops.

“You’re even more perfect than I ever imagined,” He breathes, casting his belt onto the bed beside you.

Completely entranced by your body, he leaned down, hands gripping your torso, and kissed you roughly on your lips. He tasted like chocolates and mint, lips dominating yours, leaving them swollen. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him down so he’s hovering over you, your back pressed into the bed. He made his way down your neck, over your collarbones, taking care to kiss every part of you. You arch your back in need, and his hands press your hips back down into the bed.

“Patience, angel,” He says sternly, the pet name hung over you like a curse turning your brain to mush, “I’ve been waiting a long time for this. Don’t rush it.”

You scoff and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Is that a challenge?” He queries– that damn smirk. He doesn’t wait for your response, just wraps his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking and licking, earning a loud moan from you. His hand works your other breast, giving you the pleasure that you’d been craving, but still it was not enough. You feel your cunt grow wetter by the second, aching and throbbing.

“That’s what I thought,” He grinned, another win for him. You groan, pushing yourself up on your elbows to face him.

“You’re such an ass, Hyunjin,” you say halfheartedly, trying to sound as menacing and cold as possible. He cocks an eyebrow at you, kissing down your torso, head hovering between your legs, his knees on the floor, kneeling before you.

He looked so beautiful like this, head turned up to you from below, and in turn you felt like the most gorgeous woman in the world in his sight. He pushes your legs open to give himself a better view. He hooked his fingers under your thong, pulling it down your legs. You lift yourself up to allow him to pull them off, the underwear cast to the side quickly.

“Beautiful,” He whispers, eyes lidded heavily with lust. He looks back up at you, searching your face, one hand coming from behind your neck to pull you towards his face, the other gathering the slick at your entrance. He groans into your mouth, kissing you roughly and making you whimper in his mouth.

“Just beautiful,” He grunts, fingers grazing your clit. You jolt back, gasping. “So fucking wet for me,” He stands, hovering over you, hand still circling your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. He leans down, bending at the hip, placing his other hand beside your head as he hovers over you.

“Tell me you remember that safe word, noona,” He whispers, watching you intently.

“Green,” you say impatiently, needing all of him, wherever you can get him. He chuckles darkly as his eyes roam your face and body.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for years now to see you like this,” His voice was hoarse as he worked you, a couple of fingers slipping into you with ease. You threw your arm over your face and bit the back of your forearm to keep from yelling out. He smacks your hand harshly, and you yelp in response, bucking your hips to try and bring him back to where you want him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He leers, his voice dripping with lust, “First, you don’t cover your face or mouth, ever,” He continues, kissing against your neck roughly. “Second, you’re not in control here, you don’t get to decide what I touch and what I don’t touch, got it?” You moan softly as he continues kissing against your neck, but stills when you don’t respond.

“Answer me! And with words,” He growls, grabbing your face, just tightly enough for you to know that he’s in control.

“Yes,” you whisper, bucking your hips again. Without warning, he smacks your thigh sharply, earning a yelp turned moan from you.

“Yes, sir,” He commands, positioning himself upright, looking down at you with disapproval, everything hazy now, “And what did I tell you about patience,” His hand trails down your chest, up your thighs, everywhere but where you most desperately need him.

“Please,” You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly your smug act disappeared, but you’re too concerned with the aching in between your legs to care. He clicks his tongue with disappointment, hand coming down on your thigh again, harsher this time.

“Please, what, noona, don’t make me keep reminding you,” He continues, “And keep those hips still, if you know what’s good for you,” He chides you, fingers hovering over your pussy. You whine out, growing frustrated now.

“Please, sir, please touch me, I need it so fucking bad,” You moan out, trying to ignore how red your cheeks must be with humiliation. Only him, no one else could ever reduce you to this. His eyes light up, and he begins circling your clit once again. You fall back onto the mattress with a groan of relief.

“See how rewarding it is when you’re good for me,” he says, quickening his pace. You feel your stomach tighten, legs shaking slightly. “Look at me,” He commands and you fight through the haze to open your eyes, lifting your neck slightly to see him.

He crouches at the end of the bed again, kneeling, and grabs under your thighs roughly, pulling you towards him in one swift movement. Nails digging into your hips, he keeps you pressed down still, bringing his head closer, his tongue grazing up your pussy slowly.

“Fuck, Hyunjin!” You yell out, pushing yourself further into his face, He chuckles against you, but continues licking, swirling your clit. Finally, he opens his mouth to suck roughly, lapping up your slick, tongue darting across rapidly. You grasp his head harshly, pushing him even further, arching your back, chasing your release. He moans into you, causing you to tighten your grip on him, his fingers digging into your hip, almost painfully, keeping you tethered to reality. His brow is furrowed in concentration, bringing one of his hands back to slip a finger inside you, pressing from within. You writhe in response, curse words flowing out of you, slurring together. He continues attacking your clit with his tongue, eyes watching your every move, gauging each and every response.

“Hyunjin,” you breathe in warning, feeling yourself tighten around his fingers. He stops, kissing your thighs, and you jolt up, eyes wide. “Hey!” You yell in frustration, so close to your release. He chuckles as he stands, finally stepping out of his jeans. Your eyes trail down his body, his balls hung tight and his cock rigid and wet from his own arousal.

“Third rule noona,” He drawls, “You don’t cum unless I tell you to, got it?” You huff in response, pushing yourself up so that you’re on your knees in front of him, hands reaching out to him. He doesn’t lean into you, eyes boring into you, jaw clenched. “Got it?” He repeats, his hand smacking your cheek softly.

“Yes sir,” You murmur, the sting mixed with his teasing causing you to get worked up all over again. He circles his fingers around your neck, tilting your head up to his.

“Good girl,” He whispers, kissing your forehead softly, gently.

“Please kiss me,” You murmur, reaching out to run your fingers over his jawline. He smiles softly, resting his head in your hand. He starts to kiss you again; his hands slide down your body and towards your cunt. You raise your hips, beckoning him, and he obliges, circling your clit once again.

“Are you ready to play out the rest of those fantasies, y/n?” He asks, eyes hazy, watching the way you writhe under his touch. You nod fervently, eager to take him, to feel him inside you. He guides you back down on the bed, lifting himself up so he’s kneeling between your legs which you immediately wrapped around his waist. He pushes his cock against your swollen clit, teasing you.

“Hyunjin,” You plead, voice hoarse between the ceaseless moaning and his large hand still enclosing your neck, “Please fuck me, I need to feel you.” He sucks in a breath, and nods, unable to contain himself anymore.

He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in deep, watching your face as it twists in pleasure while he sinks in every inch. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried into you to the hilt, chest rising and falling in anticipation. You visibly struggle to accommodate all of him, Hyunjin was much bigger inside you than you anticipated and you moaned loudly when you felt him twitch.

“Tell me when to start moving, angel,” He murmurs, leaning down so that his face just hovers over yours, his arms moving to hold you, pulling him into you.

“Fuck me,” You whisper, too weak to say anything else. He begins to rock his hips into you, each stroke deeper than the last.

“Fuck,” He whimpers, pulling you closer into him with one arm, the other hand gripping the headboard, “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” You moan, wrapping your legs even tighter around him. He picks up the pace, raising up onto his knees, hands lifting your hips off the bed, fucking you rougher, looking down at you as sweat beads on his brow, strands of hair sticking to his face. He keeps his eyes on yours as he pops a finger in his mouth, moistening it before he brings it to your clit, circling it rapidly. You cry out, back snapping up, your entire torso lifting up.

“Yeah, you can take it,” He praises, “You’re my good fucking girl, aren’t you,” he says, fucking you quicker now. You whimper in response, teetering on the edge of your release. He smacks your cheek just harsh enough to sting slightly, grabbing your face, forcing you to look at him.

“Fucking say it noona, say you’re mine,” He commands hoarsely, sweat falling between his eyes, wild with possessiveness and lust, still moving inside you

“I’m yours Hyunjin, fuck!” You cry out, and he nods approvingly, his fingers circling your clit once more, dragging a deep moan from you, “I’m all fucking yours, please let me come, I’ve been so fucking good for you.”

He chuckles deeply, tongue in cheek, “I don’t know if you’ve been that good,” He jeers, hitting a spot deep within you, your clit swollen from his teasing. You can feel yourself tightening around him, your vision going blurry. He leans back to get a better view of you, one hand pushing on your stomach, exposing yourself further to him, still rubbing your clit, still fucking you deeply, harder, faster.

“Please, sir, please let me come,” You whimper, voice hoarse, tears flowing freely down your face now, your body slick with sweat. He groans as he bottoms out in you, watching where your bodies connect and marveling at the way you take him.

“Cum on my fucking cock, angel” He commands, voice dark, continuing to move in you. You feel your stomach grow warm, your walls tightening around him, your legs shaking.

“Fuck, fuck, Hyunjin,” You cry out, eyes squeezed shut and unable to string together any real sentences, your mind foggy. “Oh shit!”

“Open your eyes, noona, let me see you come,” He says as he snaps his hips into you, “Show me how fucking good you are for me.” The knot in your stomach comes undone, all of your nerves lighting up, body tingling, mind hazy. If you’re yelling out, you’re not sure, completely lost in him, the only thing tethering you the world at this point.

“Fuck,” He grunts, slowing his pace. He pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up into the air. You’re still coming, thighs shaking, your walls clenching around nothing.

“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” you hear him whisper from behind you. He presses himself into you again, bottoming out, earning a deep groan from you.

“Fuck yeah, arch your back like that for me, such a good fucking girl,” He praises, reaching a hand around your waist to continue rubbing your clit, the other hand collecting your hair in a fist, pulling your head back. You’ve barely come down from your orgasm, already feeling yourself tighten up all over again. You turn your head slightly to see him in the corner of your eye and grin.

“Does that feel fucking good, Jinnie,” You taunt, moving in sync with him. He throws his head back, moaning deeply, his body slick with sweat.

“Yes, angel,” He whimpers, “You have no fucking idea how good you feel, it’s unreal.” You feel his movements begin to falter, uneven.

“It’s all yours,” You say, and he groans deeply, “All fucking yours, Jinnie.” His fist in your hair clenches tighter at this.

“Best I’ve ever fucking had,” He grunts, voice hoarse, “Best you’ll ever fucking have.” He adds, and you moan loudly in agreement, feeling yourself grow even wetter at his praise.

“I won’t be able to get you out of my head now,” You grit out, “I fucking hate you for it.” He groans loudly, chuckling breathlessly.

“Yeah? You fucking hate me, angel?” He growls, pulling out of you. You huff in frustration, your release close now. He flips you over, flopping onto his back, chest glistening with sweat, rising and falling. He pulls you on top of him so you’re straddling him.

“Show me how much you fucking hate me then,” He whispers darkly, smirking. You can’t help but moan at this, the way he undoes you. He grips your hips roughly, and you can’t even be bothered by the bruises he’ll leave. You work him, rocking your hips, feeling him stretch you out in a way no one else has. The way he watches you, like you’re the most beautiful girl on the planet. He circles your clit once more, praising you as you nearly scream his name.

“Such a good fucking girl for me,” He moans roughly, his head falling back, his cock twitching inside of you. You can feel yourself tightening around him, your vision going white.

“Please cum in me, Jinnie,” You grit out, your entire body shaking now, earning a grunt from him in response. You fall down onto his chest, him rutting into you, lewd noises and groans filling the room.

“Noona, I’m– fuck,” He groans, and just at the sight of him coming undone, the way his brow furrows in concentration, sweat glistening, you feel yourself cross over that edge again, crying out as you come on him again. He pumps into you a couple more times as he comes with you, his mouth hanging open, before his hands fall to his sides.

You both lay in silence there for a few moments, panting. You roll over so you’re on his side, him pulling you closer, your head on his chest. Your legs shake slightly, and he chuckles softly.

“I don’t recall letting you cum that second time,” He whispers darkly, “But I guess I’ll let it slide this time.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Oh, shut the fuck up” you say, still trying to collect yourself. He scoffs, his hand running up your back slightly.

“I’d fight with you every day as long as we end up like this” He winks, smiling cheekily like a man who just won the lottery,

“I’m still your manager, you need to get a grip” you snap back but without the bite.

“Yeah, my manager who is also now my girl” He pulls you in and kisses you sweetly. “I guess I’ll just have to keep reminding you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feel free to re-blog and leave a like if you enjoyed this!

p.s: Hyunjin, if youre reading this, HAPPY BIRTHDAY baby!!

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yaorzu-blog · 2 months ago

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My Stray Kids Masterlist 🧸

Every work listed here contains SMUT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (you will be blocked)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bang Chan

Friendly fire part 1

Friendly fire part 2

Movie night extra part 1

Movie night extra part 2 ft. Leeknow

Teachers pet 1

Teachers pet 2

Wet ‘n’ wild

No boundaries

Truth or strip 1

Truth or strip 2

A bumpy ride

A hot mess 1

A hot mess 2

Leeknow

Movie night extra part 2 ft. Chan

Bad roomie

The sleepover

The bodyguard

Pretty boy, Asshole 1

Pretty boy, Asshole 2

Changbin

Sexual healing

Off limits

Just another work trip

Hyunjin

Love to hate you

Occupied: Do not disturb

I’ll let the world burn

Pinned and pierced

Han

Stolen touches

Rivalry redefined 1

Rivalry redefined 2

Tastes like trouble ft. Seungmin

Traffic jam

Call me noona

Felix

More than friends

Shh! Dont tell anyone…

Across the window

Seungmin

Dead batteries

Thin Line

Tastes like trouble ft. Jisung

Kissing 101

Look what you made me do

Jeongin

Follow my lead

Heatwave

Pressure points

HEADCANONS

Bff! Straykids in a staring match with you

Enemies with benefits (hyung line)

Bf! Skz and how they fuck you during a fight

SERIES

Between The Lines (Chan x Hyunjin) BL

Part one Part two Part three Part four

Escape (Chan x Reader x Hyunjin)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six

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yaorzu-blog · 2 months ago

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yaorzu-blog · 3 months ago

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yaorzu-blog · 3 months ago

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2000.03.20: happy birthday hyunjin 🎂💘 — watch hyunjin grow up: you bloomed into the most beautiful and special flower

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yaorzu-blog · 3 months ago

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My Master lists

Decided to put together a masterlist of my writing, divided by fandom. I dunno, it's partly for my own benefit too actually. So I can find what I'm looking for when I want it. There's not much, but I'm also gonna include the link to my AO3 for the stuff I never cross-posted.

Stray Kids

First things first - this is just a blanket disclaimer for my Stray Kids fics. These stories are just for fun and not meant to accurately depict the real life individuals portrayed in them.

Jealousy - You’ve been dating Chan for a while and he takes you as his date to a JYPE party. There, he notices how close you are to Felix and jumps to some conclusions.

Train Ride - You start off as just Chan’s beloved girlfriend and end up in bed with all the members.

Original Oneshot Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

The Moment He Knew You Were The One - You're dating Chan and start to notice some odd behavior from the guys

Best Friends to Lovers - This is a series of unconnected, smutty oneshots in which the fem!reader has been best friends with the various members since childhood/teen years. Most are idol!skz, but Hyunjin and Felix’s are college!aus. All have happy endings. Minho and Seungmin have two stories, the first is a threesome story (Minho&Jisung and Seungmin&Changbin) while the second is a solo story.

Chan Minho (Solo) Changbin Hyunjin Jisung Felix Seungmin (Solo) Jeongin

Fic Recs: Chan Minho Changbin Hyunjin Jisung Felix Seungmin Jeongin OT8 Multi-members

Stranger Things (Steddie)

Accidentally In Love - Steve and Eddie have been dating for months, but neither of them have noticed until Robin and Nancy confront them about it.

Rosary - Eddie’s in the hospital after his heroics in the Upside Down. Steve and Wayne sit together, waiting for him to wake up.

Too Much - Steve knows he’s too much, he always has been. And he knows it’s the main reason he can’t make a relationship last, so he tries pulling away from Eddie before it’s too late and he loses him too.

Larkspur and Lily of the Valley - Steve has a cough and thinks it's allergies, until a blue petal comes up. (Happy ending Hanahaki au)

I may one day link my fic recs here for Steddie, but I didn't tag them when I reblogged them, so probably not.

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yaorzu-blog · 3 months ago

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·˚ *-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-STRAY KIDS -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-·˚ *

indications ; ♥︎ - smut , ✿ - fluff, ⬤ - angst

└➤ BANG CHAN (방찬) - click link for bangchan fics

└➤ LEE KNOW (이민호) - click link for lee minho fics

└➤ CHANGBIN (서창빈)

# - (playfully) groping binnie -✿♥︎- groping binnie and how he'd reactand i'm not just talkin boobies. i'm talkin' errything.

# - to the rescue -✿- early mornings are for rescuing your boyfriend and his roommates from a tiny uninvited visitor.

└➤ HYUNJIN (황현진)

# - under the stars -♥︎- camping with 9 people, 4 tents leaves you stuck with sharing a tent and bed with minho + hyunjin who fight for your attention

& pt ii, hot springs -♥︎- after last night, hyunjin decides to surprise with a hot spring! some one on one time with your completely "platonic" not-at-all-horn-dog-friend would be a great way to relax

# - alien!hyunjin -♥︎- (psst..hyunjin has two dicks

# - pussy agenda -♥︎- he can't keep his hands to himself.

# - love -♥︎- how I think hyunjin loves the most.

# - tied up -♥︎- you ask your boyfriend to come home immediately after you read something spicy in a dark romance novel, and he's only too excited to help you.

└➤ HAN (한지성)

# - relaxed -♥︎- 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗇𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍，𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 (𝗆)， 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾，𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗃𝗂𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍，𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌，𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍，𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆𝗌，𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇．w.c 0.7k

# - sweater weather -♥︎✿- there's a thunderstorm outside and you don't have an umbrella. luck wants that you're near you best friend's apartment complex and you decide to wait for the rain to stop and your clothes to dry while watching a movie with him… but things escalate after the tension between you two finally snaps.

# - love song -✿- | han realizing his feelings for you.

# - untitled -♥︎✿- you and your soulmate in a random morning of may. w.c 1.9k

# - a sudden kiss -✿-

# - late -⬤♥︎✿- make up sex basically

# - low battery -✿⬤- just two lovers comforting each other after a long evening w.c 0.5k

# - lust -♥︎⬤- your boyfriend doesn't know any other method of stress relief, other than creating music. He can get so consumed by it, it can become the stressor. So you decide to present him with a new method. That's how you found yourself walking down the street in nothing but lingerie and a long coat. w.c 2.9k

# - my favorite person -♥︎✿⬤- neighbors/(fake) enemies to lovers au w.c 6.7k

# - breathless -♥︎- best friend!jisung, accidental Friends With Benefits reference w.c 2.5k

# - mall madness -✿- christmas shopping with han is anything but ordinary. what starts as a simple, practical trip to the mall quickly turns into a whirlwind of impulse purchases, holiday hijinks, and way too much christmas spirit.

# - soft nuzzles -✿- lately, you couldn’t shake the urge to nuzzle into the warmth han’s neck.

# - this <3

# - a song that sounds like you -✿- sleepover with your best friend, just like before. except that . . it isn't ?

# - going back to you -✿- your tired boyfriend returns home after a long schedule, wanting nothing else but to be close to his lover.

└➤ FELIX (이 필릭스)

# - the way i love you -♥︎✿- after care with felix <3

└➤ SEUNGMIN (김승민)

# - wish we never met -♥︎⬤- friends-to-lovers, angst, unrequited love, hint of fluff

# - love sick -✿- friends to lovers. kim seungmin is down bad.

└➤ I.N. (양정인)

☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰

└➤ OT8 MASTERLISTS / SERIES

# - reaction when you catch the boquet at a wedding

# - @/luvyeni's masterlist

# - how they 0rgasm

# - @/skzms's masterlist

# - timestamp masterlist

# - kinkiest memeber

# - skz comfting you on a hard day

# - sides of skz they only show you

# - first relationships

# - @/seungisim's masterlist

# - @/lia-linny's rec list

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yaorzu-blog · 3 months ago

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Trying aphrodisiacs with Hyunjin

Warnings: smut, that's all

Word count : 2.5k

As usual: Alexa, plays Chain by Lolo Zouaï

The soft hum of a movie played in the background, but neither of you were really paying attention anymore. Hyunjin was sprawled across the couch, socked feet tangled with yours, a half empty wine glass between his fingers. His hair was a little messy, cheeks warm and red from the alcohol, and he looked too effortlessly pretty for a lazy night in.

"You really bought it", you said, holding up the black box in your hands. The label was sleek, with golden details, and completely ridiculous:

‘Tabs

Break, bite and bang’

"I had to”, Hyunjin laughed, sitting up straighter. "The guy at the shop swore it’s a ‘sensual awakening experience’. Whatever that means”. You raised an eyebrow. “You know it’s just going to be a placebo, right?” "Maybe”, he said, smirking, "Or maybe we’ll be crawling all over each other in twenty minutes". You rolled your eyes, but your face was already heating at the implication, “You say that like it's not already a bad idea risking it to happen”. He shrugged, grinning, “Exactly why it’s fun”.

The box opened with a soft snap— inside, a handful of glossy chocolates, each wrapped individually, “So we’re really doing this?” you asked, giggling nervously, “For scientific purposes”, Hyunjin said, already unwrapping his. You mirrored him, popping the piece in your mouth. Rich, dark, slightly bitter— like it had some herbal undertone you couldn’t quite place, “Not bad”, you said, licking a bit of melted chocolate off your thumb.

You didn’t miss the way Hyunjin’s eyes briefly dropped to your mouth before he quickly looked away, “You feel anything yet?”, he teased, “Nope. You?” “Is it normal that I already want to kiss you?”, he said casually, and then grinned when you turned toward him with mock offense, “Kidding. That’s probably just the wine”.

You just nodded but you were starting to notice the heat building under your skin. A low, humming warmth curling in your stomach. You shifted slightly on the couch— and when your thigh brushed his, it felt… sharper. Like a tiny spark.

You both froze.

“Did you feel that?”, you asked. Hyunjin blinked. “Yeah”. The air grew thick with something unspoken. His eyes were darker now, a little too focused on you. He licked his lips without thinking, and your heartbeat made a mess in your chest, “Okay”, you said, sitting up straighter, pretending nothing was happening. “This is fine. Totally fine” “Totally”, Hyunjin echoed. But he was already leaning just a little closer.

Well, the aphrodisiac was definitely working.

“It’s getting hot in here?!”, he said, voice too high pitched. “Maybe it's just in our heads”, you replied, voice a little too breathy, "Maybe”, Hyunjin echoed again, but his gaze had shifted to your collarbone, where your pajama had slipped slightly off one shoulder. His fingers twitched on the cushion between you, like he was trying not to reach out.

The movie still played, but neither of you had any idea what was happening on the screen anymore. You shifted again, crossing your legs, trying to get some relief— and his eyes definitely followed the motion. You swallowed, “Okay. I’m warm. Like, unnecessarily warm” "Same”, he muttered, "Is the heater on?". You both glanced at the thermostat— off. Sure.

“Okay, maybe it’s not just in our heads”. You reached for your wine glass to distract yourself, but your fingers brushed his instead. Just a light touch, accidental, harmless— except it wasn’t harmless. Not this time.

Your whole arm tingled, awareness shooting up your skin like a live wire. You glanced at Hyunjin, and he was already staring at you like you'd just set the room on fire, “Are you also feeling…” “Yeah”. You both sat there in stunned silence for a second. Then, he burst out laughing, “Oh my god. We’re idiots”. You laughed too, “This was a terrible idea” “Or a brilliant one”, he said, voice low now, a little rougher. He leaned in just slightly, and you hated how good it smelled— his cologne, his skin, the faint chocolate still on his breath.

Your stomach tightened. Your heartbeats skipped, “I swear to god, Hyunjin, if you look at me like that again…” “Like what?”, he asked innocently, but his eyes were anything but innocent. “Like you’re about to climb on top of me”. He grinned, “I’m trying really hard not to”.

That shouldn’t have been hot. It shouldn’t have sent a throb of heat between your legs. But your body was humming, needing him deeply. You tried to stand up, desperate to cool off, maybe splash some water on your face, but the moment you got to your feet, you felt dizzy, flushed, your skin hypersensitive and aching, “Okay, no. This is stupid. I need water. I need cold air. I need…”

Hyunjin stood too, standing right behind you. Suddenly, his hand landed on your waist and everything in you lit up at once. You gasped, “Oh god! Don’t touch me”. He froze in place, “I barely touched you!” “Exactly”. You looked at each other, eyes wide, panting, hearts racing like you’d just run a marathon.

Then you both broke into laughter again. Nervous, breathless, almost desperate, "This was supposed to be a joke", you said weakly. Hyunjin leaned in closer, hands still hovering your waist, “So what if it isn’t anymore?”. You didn’t answer, you couldn’t. Not when his lips were inches away, and the tension was thick at the point to be palpable.

But then, in an impulsive act, his mouth crashed into yours. Hot, frantic, greedy. Exactly the opposite of his personality, the kiss is needy, messy, starved. Your hands tangled in his hair, his body pressing against yours like he couldn’t get close enough, and every single nerve of yours screamed for more.

His mouth was warm and insistent against yours, and for a second, your brain short circuited. This was Hyunjin— your best friend. The same idiot who steals your fries, sleeps on your couch way too often, and knows every embarrassing story about you. But right now, all of that blurred beneath the heat of his hands and the desperate way his lips moved with yours.

You should’ve stopped it. You meant to stop it. But then his fingers found your waist again, dragging you closer, and everything rational inside you shattered. You whimpered into the kiss, your body pressing to his like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hands slid under your shirt, not even trying to be subtle now, and you gasped at the contact. Your hypersensitive skin burned under his touch.

“Fuck”, he breathed against your mouth, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, “This is… fuck, I didn’t think it’d hit this hard”. You nodded, equally breathless, “I can’t think straight. I just… Hyunjin…”. His name on your lips did something to him. He kissed you again, harder this time, hungry, messy, like he couldn’t hold back anymore. His hands roamed like he didn’t know where to start. Waist, hips, up your back, tugging you flush against him.

Your head fell back with a shaky moan as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your jaw, your throat, the edge of your collarbone, “You’re my best friend”, you said suddenly, breath hitching. His hands stilled for half a second, his lips hovering just above your skin, “I know”, he murmured, “But right now, I don’t think I can pretend I don’t want you”.

You let out a shaky laugh, part nervous, part delirious with desire, “This is gonna ruin everything” “Maybe”, he said, voice low, almost trembling, “But I’d rather ruin everything than stop touching you right now”.

It was enough for you to surrender. You pulled him back to you with a groan, your fingers threading into his hair as his mouth crashed against yours again, his hands finding every inch of exposed skin he could reach. You were both losing control fast. Clothes slipping, kisses deepening, breaths turning into ragged moans. He pressed you down on the fluffy carpet, hovering over you, eyes dark and wild with desire. “Tell me to stop”, he whispered, lips brushing yours. But you didn’t. Instead, you pulled him in closer and kissed him like you’d been waiting years.

And maybe you had.

Your clothes disappeared in a blur of kisses, breathless laughs, and trembling hands. Neither of you spoke much now, there wasn’t room for words, only the frantic pace of touch and the fire crawling under your skin. His shirt came off first, then yours. The moment his skin touched yours, you both gasped— heat meeting heat, every nerve lit up and begging for more.

Hyunjin’s lips trailed down your neck, tongue teasing against sensitive skin, teeth grazing just enough to make your back arch, “God, you’re driving me insane”, he murmured, voice deep and wrecked, like it physically hurt to hold back. “You think I’m not losing my mind too?”, you whispered, clutching at his back, nails digging into his skin as he pressed his hips down against yours.

The friction— hot, perfect, too much and not enough all at once— made your body jolt. He groaned low in your ear at the contact, his hands gripping your thighs, sliding between them to spread you wider beneath him. Your breath caught when his fingers found you, stroking slowly and deliberately. You were soaked, already aching from just kisses and heat and him. His touch was expert, sensual, gentle but with just enough pressure to make your legs tremble.

“Fuck”, he whispered, watching you melting into pleasure under him, “You’re so wet already. Is this all because of me or the aphrodisiac?” “It’s you”, you gasped, hips rolling into his hand, “It’s always been you, Hyunie”.

Something shifted in his eyes. something softer beneath the hunger, like he’d been waiting to hear that for far too long. He kissed you again, slower this time, deeper, tongue tracing yours in a rhythm that matched the movement of his fingers between your legs. You were so close already, body shaking, moaning into his mouth with every pulse of pleasure he gave you, “I wanna taste you,” he said against your lips, his voice low like a prayer.

You didn’t even get to answer before he slid down your body, eyes never leaving yours, lips trailing kisses across your stomach before settling between your thighs. The first flick of his tongue made you cry out. Your hips lifted, thighs tightened around his head as he licked you exactly like he’d dreamed of it. Like he needed it. Slow circles, teasing swipes, sucking just right until you were a panting mess, fingers tangled in his hair, begging without shame.

When you finally came, it hit hard— sharp, overwhelming, stars hit your eyelids as your whole body shook with release. He didn’t stop until you were twitching under him, your chest heaving, legs weak. And then he was back above you again, kissing you through the aftershocks, hands cradling your face like you were something precious, “I need you”, he whispered, voice barely holding together.

You reached for him, pulling him closer, “Then take me”. Without thinking twice, his body settled between your legs, skin against skin, warm and trembling with need. You could feel him hard and heavy, pressed right where you needed him most. But even now, as wild with desire as he was, Hyunjin paused. His forehead rested against yours, his breath unsteady, “This changes everything”, he whispered, “I know”, you breathed, reaching up to cup his cheek, “But I don’t care. I want you”.

That was all he needed to hear.

You felt the slow press of him entering you, inch by inch, stretching you open, filling you so perfectly it was almost unbearable. Your mouth fell open in a gasp, and his low groan echoed yours as he sank all the way in, hips flush against yours. “Fuck”, he muttered, eyes squeezed shut, “You feel so good, princess, so damn good”.

You clung to him, overwhelmed by how deep he was, how right it felt. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him even closer as he began to move— slow at first, gentle, like he was trying to savor every second of this moment. Each thrust dragged a moan from your lips, your body arching into his, nails raking down his back. He kissed you hard between each breath, each movement, a fevered rhythm of lips and hips, skin and sighs, “You’ve no idea for how long I’ve wanted this”, he said against your neck, his voice shaking.

You matched every movement with your own, matching his rhythm, anchoring him with your hands as pleasure grew tighter inside you. The friction, the heat, the way he kept whispering your name— it was everything. “I should’ve told you”, he panted, moving faster now, “Should’ve said it a long time ago” “Said what?”, you gasped, eyes fluttering, overwhelming tears rolling down your face.

“That I’m in love with you”

The words did something to you. You pulled him into a kiss so deep it stole your breath. Your response was not spoken, but felt in the way your whole body wrapped around him, the way you gave him all of you. Every thrust grew messier, more desperate until you were both on the edge.

You came again, clenching around him, moaning his name as waves of pleasure tore through you. He followed moments later, groaning against your shoulder as he buried himself deep, hips stuttering through his release, breath ragged and body trembling.

For a long moment, neither of you moved— just tangled limbs, racing hearts, sweaty skin, and the weight of everything you’d never said until now. Hyunjin’s body was warm against yours, his hand resting gently on your hip as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck. You could still feel the warmth between you both, the remnants of your shared breaths, the pulse of everything that had just happened.

He lifted his head slowly, his eyes still dark with the aftermath of what you'd just shared, but now there was something softer, something real. His thumb traced small circles on your skin, “So…”, he began, his voice low, still breathless, “That was... intense”.

You laughed softly “That’s one way to put it” “I’ve wanted this... wanted you for so long”, he said quietly, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. “It wasn’t just the aphrodisiac, YN. I... I’m in love with you. And I always have been. Since the first day of elementary school”.

Your heart skipped at the confession, the weight of it settling into you like the warmth of his touch, “I know”, you whispered, brushing your fingers through his messy hair, gently tugging him back into another kiss. This one was slower, more tender with no urgency, just the soft acknowledgment of something new, something deeper.

He smiled against your lips, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, “Is this going to be weird now? Like, with everything? With us?”. You shook your head, “It doesn’t have to be weird. We’re still us. Best friends, just... with more now”. He chuckled, a little nervous, but also relieved, “You’re right. But damn, I never expected you to be that good in bed”. You rolled your eyes, hitting his arm, while he laughed “Idiot”.

He rested his head against yours, his hands gently caressing your back, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right. You didn’t need anything else.

Just him.

Just this.

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