Anzellll - Tumblr Blog

pairing: asahi x f!reader

cw: asahi is a pain sl*t, non-con, virginity loss ( cherry p*pping!! ),

asahi kept his hair growing, just for you.

when you first met him as a freshman, his hair looked shaggy, but the way he'd hold most of it back with a small headband was adorable and you'd make sure to let him know that. someone so tall and big, you assumed would get compliments left and right, but once you said those nice words, his cheeks flushed and he mumbled out a small 'thank you'. when you were walking away, you heard his friends around his desk tease him as they played with his hair, mocking your words — not to hurt you, but just to poke fun at their gentle giant of a classmate.

since then, you've seen his hair keep growing longer and longer, going from unkempt locks, to a ponytail, to the bun that sits at the middle of the back of his head as a senior. adorable again.

you make sure to tell him that his hair is nice every single day and he just grins, but if only you knew the way his heart would thump louder each time, no matter how many times you'd say it.

/

once when he was leaving the gymnasium after volleyball, you ran into him after a study meeting ran a bit longer than you planned. his usually tight bun is looser, a few strands of hair in his face and at the sides of his head.

"you want some help?" you motion to the back of your head to indicate that you meant for his hair, not for the multiple volleyballs in his hands.

his deep chuckle rumbles loudly and it makes your heart thump unevenly.

"sure." he bends his knees ( quite a bit ) to become level with your hands and you try to gently get the hairband out of his tresses, but you're met with resistance and end up tugging harder than intended as his long locks flow down his head and shoulders. your small fingers drop the rubber band when you hear the absolutely lewd moan that asahi lets out without his own permission.

"fuck, i'm so sorry— that's— really weird.." he mumbles under his breath, letting all the balls fall now with no concern for them. his large frame towers over you once more and he tries to gain his composure again ( only to fail ). "i should probably go and give these back to daichi." scooping up all the now dirt-covered volleyballs, he runs back into the gym with his cock strained against his shorts, and you don't miss the shape and size of it as you wave him goodbye, your mouth still agape.

what the fuck was that?

/

that was then, when you just began to unravel asahi's shameful fetish for pain.

he had your number from the time you were in the same group for the school talent show and the beginning of your text thread ( you opted for the group chat during the time of the talent show ) is as odd as one would think.

he asked for your forgiveness because even he doesn't know what the hell came over him. you reassure him and let him know that it happens, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, because you're nice — you're a good person who wouldn't want anyone to feel ashamed over something out of their control.

but your classmate took it the wrong way, as acceptance and a sign that you don't mind showing him more.

that's how you ended up tying his hair every day. he'd show up early to your doorstep ( it was on the way to school anyways ) with his wild mane of hair so you can brush out all the tangles until it's as silky smooth as it usually is. each tug of your hairbrush makes his fists clench and when you pull especially hard every once in a while, he moans again, so damn lewd, so damn loud. thank god your parents always leave before you or they'd seriously question what the hell you two are doing.

after a few days, it wasn't just asahi's uniform that would feel too tight around his hips. it was also the way your thighs would clench underneath your too short skirt when he'd make those noises and how he could see the rising fabric in the mirror that he faces as he sits at your vanity. it was the way your chest would heave sometimes, the outline of your bra easily visible underneath the thin, white button-up shirt of your uniform, the bow at your collar only hanging on by a thread.

when you hands start pulling harder and harder, just to hear his filthy noises, you know that you're in too deep and so does he.

today is the day he decides he's had enough of your teasing.

your fingers are running through his hair with one hand and the other is brushing where your touch lingers, and when you reach a big tangle, you start tugging and you expect the moan that falls from his mouth, but the strong hand that grasps your wrist is a surprise.

"y'don't think you've done enough?" asahi stands from his seat and turns around to look down at you, snatching the brush from your hair and tossing it to some corner of your room. "if you like hearing me moan that much, why don't you just fuck me?"

your breath hitches in your throat and the shock in your eyes is so obvious — not that he cares. as if you were nothing but a ragdoll, he picks you up from under your armpits and tosses you onto your bed, watching you bounce a few times from the sheer force. he might be big, but he's quick too as he hovers over your tiny body, hands flat on the bed at either side of your head.

"is this what you were hoping would happen?" a smirk grows on his lips as he unceremoniously shoves a knee in between your legs, letting your skirt ride up further until he can see the white cotton panties you've made damp. with deft fingers, he unclasps each of the buttons on your shirt, leaning all his weight on the other palm.

"n-no!" you snap out of your thoughts long enough to try and stop him, futilely holding his thick wrist with both of your hands. "i just wanted to tie your hair for you, asahi-san!"

"bullshit," he spits at you instantly. you've never heard him curse before, nor get riled up in general. "you've been pulling my hair over and over for weeks. you think i don't notice the way you blush every time i moan for you? or when you bite your lip to hold back a smile, you sadistic slut?"

when his digits finish, he shoves each side of your shirt away from you to fully expose your torso. the sight makes him groan, just as if you were tugging on his locks. crassly, he pushes up your bra so it bunches above your tits and, without warning, he dips his head to take one of your soft breasts into his mouth, nipping at the peak as he lets it harden completely from his ministrations.

you gasp and try to push his head away, not exactly wanting him to defile you like this, but you can't deny how good it feels: the knee that pushes right at your clit so you're jolting against him, the warmness of his mouth as he sucks and bites at your tits. out of pure instinct, you grab a fistful of his hair and try to pry him away, but you should've known better — he muffles a loud moan against your skin.

just like with your bra, he shoves your skirt up so it circles your waist and he shoves your panties aside with a rough finger, tracing along your slick pussy.

"no, you say? do you feel how fucking wet you are for this? for me? you can be honest. even if your words aren't, your body can never lie." a calloused digit slips inside of you and asahi hisses at how difficult it is for him to put the whole thing in, despite your wet walls. "you've never had someone in here?" he quickly adds on, the tip of his finger bumping against a thin film of what he can only guess is your hymen.

you shake your head quickly, panicking to the point of your breaths getting stuck in your chest.

"n-nothing... never! i don't even t-touch myself, asahi-san... please don't do this..." tears form in your eyes and spill over quickly, sobs wracking your small frame.

"no... you're right, sweetheart," he murmurs. you look up at him with hopeful eyes and wipe at the stream of salty water at your cheeks. "it would mean more if i did it with my cock instead." your entire body freezes, too scared to even breathe, as he unzips his uniform, undoing his button so he can have his slacks fall to his ankles, his underwear joining it just a second later.

he's so thick and uncut. he looks heavy in his own hand as he strokes himself to spread the pre-cum that's beaded and pooled at his tip.

this isn't what you want from your first time. where's the sweet kisses? the flowers and huge stuffed bear? the love that's supposed to come with sex?

there isn't time for you to think any further as asahi hits your cunt with the head of his dick as a sign that he's entering.

the guttural moan that asahi releases can't compare to the ones that he let out with you before. he sounds as if he's a man who was starved for weeks, finally having a bite of his all-time favourite food. he sounds like a lost desert traveller having found an oasis. your name falls off his lips like an angel's song, and if this was happening in the way you wanted it in your mind, perhaps you'd harmonise with him.

but you can't — not when you're in so much pain. despite his 'preparation', it feels like he's ripping you apart from the inside out. he's crass and sloppy as he thrusts in and out of you, not paying much mind to your bloodcurdling screams, his face buried into your neck where he nips and sucks on your soft skin to leave his mark and further spiral you into shame.

you try again to pry him off, tugging his hair from the roots with tight fists and all the strength you can muster up. the throbbing of his cock is actually noticeable when you do this and he whimpers into your jugular now, his hips growing more eager.

"again. harder." he grits out through his teeth. "c'mon, sweetheart. pull my hair again. scratch me. if you hurt me enough, i'll even pull out when i cum."

that's right — he didn't use any protection and you had absolutely no need to take any yourself before. you grow panicked again and do as he says, yanking his hair as hard as you can with one hand as the other digs your blunt nails at the top of his arm before you drag them all the way down to his elbow.

just the stinging feeling is enough to push him over the edge and he blows his load inside of you, not minding his broken promise in the slightest.

"aw, fuck. thank you for that, sweetie."

you lay there broken and sobbing, having the last of your innocence taken away by the classmate you admired so much.

he might be a gentle giant, but you know that those two words don't go together for him, even as he wraps you up in his arms and presses a kiss to your sweaty temple, his softening cock still buried inside of you.

"i'll take care of you, i promise. now you can pull my hair all you want. isn't that what you wanted anyways?"

୨୧, ethan morales x POC&FEM!reader x devi vishwakumar. -(drabble)

' ethan and devi are dating, and you can't help but crush on the both of them; however, they seem to fancy you, too '

tags rated T, touching, oblivious reader, hinted polyam

you're a pretty reserved girl at school, not exactly studious but not bound to flunk at any moment either. sports is your forte, specifically football which is where you meet aneesa.

aneesa finds you fun to hang with from the get go!!! eventually, you two are joined by the hip. you're never not hanging out with her.

near the beginning of your senior year, aneesa introduces you to devi, fabiola and eleanor. you immediately click with devi, surprisingly. from what you've heard, devi is similar to you when it comes to new people, which may be the reason why you two instantly find one another endearing.

you're not blind, whatsoever. so it doesn't take you long to develop feelings for devi. she's gorgeous and has a killer body. her long, wavy hair is comparable to that of a mermaids, and her dark eyes are sultry at best. her nose ring makes her even more hot, along with her firey attitude. not only that, but she's on the cusp of becoming valedictorian and that immediately seals the deal for you.

she's the whole package, and you're shocked to know of her boy problems at a last minute sleepover.

it's just you and devi in her room cuddling. from an outsiders perspective, the both of you look like a couple. unfortunately, that's not the case. you and devi have just crossed the fine line between friendship and relationship. and it definitely can't be anything more than that, since devis currently dating ethan morales.

devi confides in you, explaining how they aren't that serious. she just needed a rebound after that entire ordeal with ben and margot.

as you listen to devi rant wrapped in her arms, you can't help but sulk silently. you've never talked to ethan, but from the way devis face lights up at the mention of him, it's clear to see he means so much more to her than she realizes.

you never really liked ben or any one of devis boyfriends, but ethan seems to interest you. he's not like her other exes from what she's told you. ethan seems to be genuinely in love with her, and devi is too blind to see it. and, you'll never admit it out loud but he's quite the charmer, too.

the next morning, devi seems to be in a good mood. better than yesterday, and that has you feeling giddy too. it's a saturday, so the two of you take it slow and eventually find yourselves on the couch. devi is super relaxed, since she's got the house to herself.

while you're mindlessly scrolling through netflix, devis phone rings abruptly. you watch in curious when she suddenly excuses herself to the kitchen. from where you're lounging, you spot the big grin on her face as she converses excitedly with whomever is on the other end.

you don't think too much about it, but you do miss the warmth of her body from beside you.

eventually you give up and play a spoifty playlist on the tv, and after who knows how long devi comes back to sprawl herself across the couch, head laying on your bare thighs.

you try not to blush at the contact and instead ask; "so, whos got you all giddy on the phone?"

devis smiles in content, "just ethan, i invited him over if that's fine with you.."

you're not exactly happy, sure ethans eye candy but devi and him aren't exactly known for their modest ways. their pda is on a whole other level, and to be frank, you weren't exactly keen to watch your crush get handsy with a cute boy you liked.

having two people you liked dating eachother was not for the weak.

through gritted teeth, you manage the best smile you can and say; "of course, this is your place. besides, ive always wanted to meet him," you shrug.

devis eyes seem to light up, and she pinches your cheek lightheartedly. "great!"

an hour or so later, the two of you somehow find yourselves wrapped in a thick persian blanket, limbs tangled underneath when there's an abrupt knock on the door.

devis fast asleep, drool forming in the corner of her mouth. slowly you unwrap yourself out of the blanket and get out, tucking devi in a bit more.

you already know who's at the door, so when you open it, you're not exactly suprised when you're blinded by ethans gorgeous smile.

as he greets you, your cheeks redden at the sudden hug from him.

ethans hands find themselves at the small of your back, with his face tucked into your neck. you can't help but think how intimate it all is, especially when you feel him inhale slowly.

"you smell good, y/n." he leans back, though his arms are now situated on your shoulders.

from how close the both of you are, you spot the cute mole on his cheek, and the way his wavy fringe cascades down his forehead perfectly. his lashes are surprisingly long, and it makes his eyes seem endearing more than ever.

"thanks," you can't help but whisper, he winks back in return, dropping his arms from your shoulders. you frowned at the loss of touch.

is he flirting with you?

unfortunately, you're not able to think over the interaction in depth when you suddenly feel someone against your back, their head resting on your shoulder.

its devi, of course. you knew that smell of shampoo from anywhere.

you'd never been this close to devis face ever, you could practically feel her lashes against your face. and as your face reddened, ethan stood before the two of you in amusement.

while your brain malfunctioned, devi and ethan spoke to one another as if this was normal. though you stood frozen, you could feel devis arms slither around your torso, before nestling against the front of your tummy.

this was too much for you to handle.

and even more so when ethan dipped down to devis level and gave her a brief kiss. what was crazier was the fact that you felt the corner of his lips brush against your cheek, too.

ethan backed off and gave you a cheeky grin, and from beside you, you heard devi give out a quiety giggle, her left hand on your waist now, slowly feeling you up and down.

your body felt on the verge of melting.

devi and ethan knew what they were doing, and all you could do was stand there speechless.

ethan shut the door behind him with his foot in one swift movement before focusing his attention on you and his girlfriend.

he looked down at you and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before asking, "is this okay?"

you couldn't help but nod aggressively, unsure of what was happening yet eager to know either way.

were they into you?

and your question was answered with a wet kiss on the corner of your mouth from devi.

so, they were definitely into you.

— LACY, OH LACY

Summery: Conrad brings his girlfriend from Boston to Cousins Beach for the first time and it’s safe to say that someone isn’t happy about it. (Told in Belly’s point of view)

Paring: Conrad Fisher x Girlfriend Reader

Word Count: 2.3

Authors note: I made my version of Belly a little more mature in this one, which is why she doesn’t act like a complete brat. Also the song isn’t in order, oops

The Conklins had pulled into the summer house with Belly eagerly honking the car horn twice, signaling for the Fishers to come out and greet them. Two of three did but neither of them were the one Belly wanted to see most.

Every year something had changed with Conrad Fisher through out the year and she never knew what till summer came again. Last year it was his taste in music, the year before it was his hair, and before that he got contacts to replace his glasses.

She wondered what it was gonna be this year.

Susannah went to Laurel, to two enveloping the other in a much needed hug as greetings. Meanwhile Jereremiah came straight for Belly and Steven. The trio shared their own hugs and broke into conversation about their year but Belly's mind was never fully a part of it.

Every other second she looks past Jereremiah to the front door waiting for a certain brunette to walk out. But when he never did she asked, “ where’s Conrad?”

“He’s not here yet.”

“What do you mean he’s not here yet. You guys are always here before we are.”

“He’s driving here from Brown. Mom thought it’d be better if they just drove straight here but someone forgot to set their alarm so they woke up later than expected. Conrad called a little ago and said they’d be here in an hour or two.”

Belly’s reaction to the information was much different from Stevens.

“They?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you hear, Conrad’s bringing (your name).”

(Your name). As Belly knew her, Conrad and Jeremiah’s friend from Boston. The girl Conrad met in the fourth grade when they were desk mates who was now attending Brown with him. The girl Belly knew so much about thanks to the countless stories told but had yet to meet.

No she did not hear. Why was he bringing her here?

“You mean I finally get to meet the girl that’s been held up in Conrad’s head for years now?” Steven said as if he knew something Belly didn’t.

Oh, little did Belly actually know how much Conrad had changed.

A few hours had passed since then and Conrad had yet to arrive. In the kitchen everyone was doing their share to set the table when suddenly a voice broke through the summer house.

“We’re here!”

Just like that Susannah was off to greet her eldest son that she missed dearly and the girl she already considered her daughter, at the door. Belly stayed where she was watching as everyone else joined to greet the pair.

And there, the (your name) stood with Conrad’s arm resting around her shoulder leaning into his side. Her skin alone looked perfectly delicate, almost like puff pastry. Even from where she stood, to Belly her eyes looked white as daisies.

Belly thought for being on an hours-long road trip she looked perfect. How unfair.

“Oh you didn’t have to bring anything dear, you're the guest,” Susannah said looking into the tote bag that (your name) had brought in with her.

“It’s fine really, I wanted to.” She said sweetly.

“She managed to turn a five minute visit at the gas station into a thirty minute stop. I was surprised she didn’t buy out the whole place.” Conrad teased with a smile, a smile belly had loved so dearly but saw so rarely.

One that had been painted on his face since he arrived with his body pressed next to what seemed to be the sweetest thing on this side of hell.

As Belly came closer she could see what was contained in the bag, it was full to the brim with sweets that Belly knew everyone in the house loved.

Sour patch kids. Conrad must have told her.

“You two came just in time for dinner,” Laurel assured the pair as everyone made their way back to the dining room taking a seat around the table once everyone was acquainted.

If Belly hadn’t walked away so quickly she would have seen the kiss Conrad had placed on the sweet girl's lips before leading her towards the others.

As the meal began, stories were told and questions were asked — specifically to the newest arrivals. Laurel asked the basics, “so (your name) what are you majoring in at Brown?”

“Architectural Studies.”

“Wow, impressive.” Laurel nodded. “You must not have a lot of free time.”

“Not really, no.”

“Hey is it true that architectural students never sleep?” Steven questioned.

“Pretty much.”

“Oh (your name) that can’t be healthy.” Susannah looked concerned but it was soon relieved thanks to Conrad. “Don’t worry mom. I make sure she gets a few hours of sleep.” He grabbed a hold of (your names) hand that rested on the table, interlocking their hands together. Belly frowned at the action.

“She’d probably get a few more if it weren’t for you,” Jeremiah wiggled his eyebrows at his brother.

“Jere!” His mother scolded as (your name) jaw dropped slightly and her cheeks become rosy.

“What we all know it’s true!” He continued to tease.

Belly eyes widened as her heart dropped to her stomach. she wasn’t sure why it took her so long to piece it together. With all the looks Jere and Steven had shared when the couple was brought up, the comments Susannah had been making to Laurel about the girl, the constant touching since Conrad and (your name) had gotten here.

Belly was the only one who didn’t know — “You two are dating?”

“Or maybe we all don’t,” Jeremiah muttered.

“You didn’t know? We’ve been together since November,” Conrad was the one to confirm it as if it was common knowledge.

“Oh.” Belly was sure she’d burst into tears at any given moment but used all her strength not to. The boy she’s had a crush on since she knew what it was like to like someone was sitting in front of her with his girlfriend. And it was killing her.

From there the conversation moved on — some talk about giving a grand tour of Cousins but Belly hadn’t said a word, she knew if she did she’d crack.

When it was time for Susannah to offer dessert, Belly excused herself saying she wasn’t hungry for it. Leaving to go upstairs and to give her best friend back home a call.

The next day had come fast then Belly would have liked, she’d spent the whole night locked up in her room crying to Taylor about what had happened.

When she came downstairs it was all a reminder of it all.

“We got muffins!” The young couple came into the summer house happily holding hands, Conrad carrying the baked goods for everyone.

And it was at the moment Belly knew she could see them together, it hurt too much and she didn’t know how to make it stop. So she decided she’d just ignore the pair like a disease, turns out that was a lot harder than she thought.

But it takes over my life, I see you everywhere.

As the day went on, Cousins Beach got hotter resulting in all the girls sitting around the pool while the boys goofed about in the water.

Belly and (your name) laid on the pool chairs next to each other soaking in the sun. Silence filling the air between the two. At least it was till it was broken by (your name), “I love your necklace, it’s so pretty.”

I feel your compliments like bullets on skin.

“Thanks. It was a gift from Susannah.” Belly responded, lifting her hand to fiddle with the seashell charm at the end of her necklace.

“She has the best taste in jewelry, don’t you think?” She asked continuing the conversation that Belly secretly wanted to stop.

“She sure does.”

“Last Christmas she gave me the cutest charm bracelet because my old one had run out of space. Look,” she lifted her wrist which did in fact hold a gorgeous silver bracelet.

But only one of the many charms stuck out to Belly, a dangling ‘C.’ The sight alone made her heart hurt.

Just then Conrad walked over to the girls leaning down (your name) to place a kiss on her lips and pull away shaking his head, spraying pool water all over his girlfriend.

Belly looked the other way at that.

“What are you ladies up to?” He asked. All (your name) did was raise her wrist and somehow he just knew. “Ah, talking about the magical charm bracelet.

“Says the one that bought half the charm on said charm bracelet.” (Your name) countered his teasing tone.

“That I did, didn’t I.” With a glint of mischief in his eyes Conrad picks his Girlfriend off the chair, bridle style to carry her towards the pool insisting she join him in the water. Cause a squeak to leave her lips.

“Con, I swear to God—“

“You need to cool off, or else you’ll turn into a lobster.” She countered, “Hey, I’d make a very cute lobster I hope you know.”

“I’m sure you would.”

Belly couldn’t bear to watch the couple have their cute moment together anymore, so got up and she left for the house, leaving the three boys and (your name) be.

“Belly? Why aren’t you outside with the others,” Susannah from the other side of the bedroom door before coming in. Only for her to find Belly curled into a ball on her bed wrapped within her blanket. “Oh no.”

She rushed towards Belly sitting next to her on the bed, rubbing her back with her hand. “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

“It’s nothing.” Belly say up rubbing her hands over her face that was covered in dried tears.

“Belly—“

“It’s nothing really.”

Susannah didn’t know why she didn’t she it before. But with the look in Belly’s eyes whenever the young couple entered the room together, when her son placed a kiss on (your name)’s forehead or wrapped his arms around her.

How could she not have known.

“Oh Belly, do you still like Connie?”

“N-no.” The girl took a deep breath, “it so stupid.”

“Honey it’s not stupid.” She comforted the girl, bringing her into a hug.

“How did this happen?” Belly shook her head leading into Susannah. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“I know honey.”

“What am I gonna do now?”

“With Conrad?” Belly nodded. “There’s nothing you can do hun, he’s with (your name) for the long run — I can tell. You just have to move on and get your own version of Conrad.”

“But how?”

“That’s for you to figure out.” Susannah continued, “what about that sweet boy from last summer — Cam, you still talk to him, don’t you?”

“Yeah but I doubt he likes me like that.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Because I’m me, what’s there to like about me. Especially compared to her. Have you seen her, she’s going to Brown University for architecture, how do you too that.”

Smart, sexy Lacy, I’m losin’ it lately.

Well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?

“Belly don’t you dare say that about yourself, you are beautifully smart the way you are. It’s something I love about you and any great guy would see that.”

“Conrad didn’t.”

“Belly.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need Conrad hun.”

Nightfall had come later that night. Belly was sat in the kitchen on one of the stools with a book in hand but she couldn’t bring herself to read it. Meanwhile Steven and Jeremiah were cooking up something, she hadn’t bothered to ask what — it smelt awful.

But then suddenly it didn’t. All she could smell was lingering perfume.

Conrad and Y/n came down the stairs smiling. And all Belly could do was watch, hidden in plain sight. They were both dressed nicely, Conrad wore a button up that would have made Belly swoon if it weren’t for the girl that clung to his arm. (Your name) was dressed in dazzling scarlet, like Bardot reincarnate. The most gorgeous dress hung around her figure that Belly had ever seen with matching ribbons in her hair.

The sight leaving her stomach all in knots.

She wanted to know where they were going so nicely dressed but thought it was best not to, the less she knew the better. But turns out she didn’t have to ask , instead Steven did.

“Well if it isn’t mister and mrs lobster. Where are you two off to?”

“We have a date,” Conrad answered simply. A smile on his face that it seem like the girl next to him was made of angel dust.

An answer that made Belly truly realize, she’s got the one that I want.

“Well have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Jeremiah.

“So they could do anything,” Steven jokes.

“Not anything, I wouldn’t murder someone.”

As the boys made their own little conversation, (your name)’s eyes trailed away from them and onto the cover of Belly’s book. Emma by Jane Austen. “Oh I love that book!”

Lacy, oh Lacy, it’s like you’re out to get me

“Really?”

“Of course. What do you think about it?”

“Uh it’s good, I’m just having a hard time getting into it.”

You poison every little thing that I do.

“Totally understandable, but I promise once you do it’s amazing.”

“I’ll hold you to that.

Conrad interrupted their conversation, “alright now we really have to leave.” And with that they said their goodbyes and Conrad led (your name) out of the house with his hand resting on her lower back.

And all belly could do was watch the couple leave out of her sight.

And I despite my jealous eyes and how hard it is to watch you be with her.

And I despite my rotten mind and how much it wishes I was her.

Tags: @libdarkheart @itswhatever06 @riordanness @amysangel @parkerdayaa @keirasreplies @phsychobanana @kiiyomei

vampires pt. 3 | pt. 2 | pt. 1

tags: 2.2k, vampire! seungcheol x human reader, 18+, mdni, dubcon, rough sex, toxic codependency, emotionally volatile seungcheol, degradation (verbal and physical)

weeks, maybe even a month had passed since you’d last seen seungcheol. you couldn’t tell — time didn’t really exist within the walls of the castle. though gone, his absence was everywhere. it was an absence that made your guilt grow day by day — the weight of which was now suffocating you. what if he’d found another? he hadn’t even called for you once.

the first time seungcheol had ‘called for you’, you thought he was going to kill you. vampires never met with humans alone. they would use the slaves in groups or out in public but seungcheol wanted to see you privately. maybe since he was the one who captured you and brought you here, he felt he had the right to have you all to himself.

since that night he would call for you occasionally, fucking you alone, and until he was satisfied. but that had all stopped. until today. you’d been summoned at midnight, your mind a complete mess throughout the day. you’re not sure why you feel so anxious — you haven’t even done anything wrong. 

when it came to these nights, seungcheol had three simple rules:

one, you would be freshly bathed. he wanted you to be washed off traces of anyone else — coming to him pure, untouched. 

two, your hair would be tied in a single braid — neat, out of your face.

and third, you would be dressed in a modest white nightgown with nothing underneath, giving him easy access to you.

he was very particular. he liked things pretty, even during his kills. he would bring his prey back to the castle, groom them, and then when they were perfect, he would ruin them. much like when a beautifully plated dish adds to its flavour.

the others were different — jeonghan preferred his prey to be scared, fear coursing through their veins tasted the best; joshua toyed with his food before he killed them, giving them hope they could escape before dragging them back; mingyu was impatient, devouring them too soon and regretting it after; and wonwoo was calm, until the bloodlust would hit him. his frenzied kills were a complete terror.

it’s midnight now as you stand infront of the door, frozen. you look down at the intricate door handle, running you fingers over the grooves to calm yourself down, and after taking a deep breath, you knock.

‘enter’ seungcheol’s voice makes your heart race. it’s been so long since you’ve heard it. you walk into the dimly lit room, the hue from the candles casting a warm glow over everything. as custom, you kneel in front of the fireplace, waiting with your head lowered. the room where you would meet was gorgeous albeit ostentatious. the ornate double doors opened to an opulently decorated room. to the right was a small longue area in front of a fireplace which was never lit; opposite it was a four-poster bed and adjacent to both was a writing desk, placed directly in front of the huge stained glass windows. 

as you wait, you can feel seungcheol’s eyes on you, studying you intently from head to toe. you can hear his nails scrape the wooden desk, continuing to stare like he’s trying to find something wrong with you. but you look perfect. still, seungcheol feels a simmering rage within him.

he’d been furious ever since that day. how could you choose someone else? you were first and foremost, his; and for you to pick wonwoo was an insult he couldn’t allow. he’d thought after all this time he would feel differently, but he doesn’t. it was a mistake calling you here.

‘leave’ he dismisses you coldly but to his surprise, and annoyance, you don’t move. it’s foolish to defy him but you need to do something.

‘don't make me repeat myself'

‘master- ’ 

‘get. out.’

‘master, please, i’m sorry’ you don’t know what else to say. you flinch at the sound of his chair being pushed back abruptly. his steps are heavy and heated as he walks over, standing in front of you.

‘look at me’ you look up, meeting his eyes for the first time, feeling your cunt quiver.

‘you’re sorry? what exactly are you sorry for?’ he questions, finding it incredulous that you have the nerve to disobey him. 

‘i’m s-sorry if i upset you’ seungcheol scoffs, circling behind you. he paces quietly, back and forth as the seconds pass in complete silence, and then you feel a searing sting. hot liquid hits your skin, making you cry out in pain. ‘you think you, a human, have the power to upset me?’ his voice is dripping with disdain.

he holds the candle above you, letting the burning wax drip onto your supple skin, watching how it rolls down and hardens on contact.

‘master, t-that hurts’ you stutter. seungcheol didn’t get off on your pain, so why was he making you feel it? he suddenly snakes his hand around your throat, pulling you up‘exactly. it hurts and you don’t have the power to do anything’

‘you don’t have any power’ he reminds you ‘you’re just a weak, pathetic human’ his grip tightens like a noose, fingers digging dangerously deep into your skin.

you gasp as he squeezes tight before releasing you. ‘so helpless’ he mutters, his heavy breath caressing the bare skin of your shoulder. all of a sudden he lifts your dress up and bends you over. being so close to you after weeks apart, seungcheol just can’t control himself. he unzips his pants, pulling out his throbbing cock, and enters you — your cunt that's already sopping wet for him.

it's embarrassing how easily he slips in, your arousal coating his cock instantly. he laughs 'i haven't even touched you yet and you're dripping wet? pathetic' despite his words, he loves it. he needs more.

'stand up' he orders, his hand back around your throat as he pulls you closer, your back arching off him. he pushes into you completely, your warm cunt gripping him tight and starts thrusting. seungcheol groans, his gaze suddenly fixated on your elongated neck — your skin is taut and tender — it’s perfect. you feel his fangs graze against your stretched neck before he bites, his sharp teeth puncturing your skin as two lines of blood trickle down your neck. you should be scared, you should. so why does it feel almost erotic?

seungcheol drinks from you, your blood seeping into the cracks of his hungry lips as his thrusts hit deeper, his cock throbbing inside you so rapidly. ‘fuck...i need more’ he breathes, teeth sinking in again. seungcheol has always been able control himself, never letting his bloodlust take over, but you taste so sweet, it takes all his will to pull away. he realises this is his privilege, only his, something no one else would be ever be allowed to do — drink from his prey for pleasure. 

though he’s taken from you, it feels like he’s injected something far deeper into your veins. you feel bound to him. his presence is heightened — how good he feels inside you; stretching you open, filling you up. you can’t help but want more.

‘master can i touch myself? please, you’re making me feel so good’ you beg.

he allows; your fingers on your cunt immediately, stimulating your clit.

‘y-yes’ you whine, needy little sounds spilling out with it ‘yes master…use me’ suddenly, he stops thrusting, keeping his hard cock inside you and asks,

‘who do you want to fuck the most hmmn? whose cock do you crave in your tight little cunt?’ seungcheol growls, bringing back the very question that upset him; but this time he excepts the right answer.

‘y-yours master, i want you the most. i love getting fucked by my master’s cock’ he lets out a gruff moan at your words, pulling out and turning you around to face him. 

there’s a flicker of uncontrolled lust in his eyes ‘what did you just say?’ you repeat your words to him but seungcheol’s stuck on just the two. my master — him belonging to you and you to him. he grabs you by the throat, squeezing lightly ‘what are you doing to me?’ he mutters, feeling painfully possessive of the idea. but then the memory of you spread open, pushing wonwoo’s cum inside you returns. you gasp as his grip tightens.

‘how did it feel hmm? pushing wonwoo’s cum inside you? you didn’t look like you wanted to get fucked by me, you looked like a dirty fucking whore’ seungcheol eyes go dark. for the first time tonight, you’re scared, desperate not to upset him further.

‘tell me’ 

‘i felt nothing master’ you lie ‘i imagined it was yours. i wanted your cum on my fingers…i only want your cum inside me’ seungcheol inhales sharply, high on your words. ‘take off your dress’ he commands as you pull it off quickly. he unbuttons his shirt, almost ripping it off and in a single breath he grabs your waist and lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist and arms draped around his neck. his cold skin is pressed to your warmth as he carries you across the room, pushing you up against the stained glass windows.

it’s much too intimate a position to be in with you but he doesn’t care, he wants you. he enters you slowly, filling you up with a deep sensual stroke. you whimper, feeling all of him inside you.

‘master..please fuck me’ and he does. seungcheol fucks you passionate, making sure every thrust touches your deepest parts, addicted to the soft mewls spilling out of you. he keeps his eyes locked on yours like he’s searching for something in them. you can see they’ve turned a deep crimson in the moonlight — the dreamy moonlight that’s hitting his pale, almost translucent skin so beautifully; his jet black hair and blood stained lips in striking contrast to it. you’re suddenly taken by his beauty, feeling overwhelmed. so you drop your gaze, unable to keep his.

‘no’ he commands ‘you will look at me while i fuck you’ he picks up the pace, thrusting harder.

‘you’re mine’ he breathes ‘you’re mine before anyone else’s. understood?’

he buries his face in your neck, his lips finding where he’d drank from earlier and starts sucking on that spot hungrily. you’re taste…he can’t stop craving it. as soon as he gets a little taste his thrusts turn animalistic, eyebrows pulled tight as he pounds into you, balls slapping against your cunt. you gasp, tilting your head back, giving him more access. ‘fuck’ you feel his cock twitch inside you.

seeing you offer your body to him like this was so intoxicating. ‘look at me’ he moans, his eyes back on yours. then for the very first time, he kisses you. his kisses are hard and messy, matching his thrusts. he pushes his tongue into your mouth, finding yours as your kisses deepen. you need him now and so you beg,

‘master, bury your seed inside me. p-please, i haven’t felt you in so long’ it’s sick honestly — your desperate words and the immediate effect they have on him. seungcheol’s pushed to the brink of orgasm, and for a split second, he feels himself losing all control. taking your life, draining you of your sweet nectar as he cums inside would be euphoric beyond belief, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. instead, he says,

‘cum with me’ the words coming out of his mouth are unthinkable.

‘you’re going to cum with me’ it’s an order now, and you let yourself feel the pleasure that’s been building. his lips are back on yours, kissing you with untamed desire. ‘m-master, i’m going to cum’ you whine, clamping around his pulsating cock and feeling it take over you — it’s primal the way this pleasure feels. you press yourself against him and moan ‘master, make me yours’ 

‘f-fuck’ he curses, fucking you against the window so violently as he cums, shooting his seed inside you while you’re still consumed by your high. seungcheol groans and just keeps going, pushing all his cum deeper and deeper inside as if he’s trying to breed you.

‘thank you master..’ you breathe as his pace slackens, his final thrusts slow. there’s a stillness that sets in as his cock slips out of you, your legs unwrapping around him to find the floor. you’re suddenly aware of how eerily silent the castle is tonight. did anyone else hear? it feels too intimate a moment to share. or that's what you think. seungcheol steps away from you, a coldness coming off him. ‘you may leave’ his words are firm.

the overwhelming high from the sex comes crashing down in an instant and those useless human emotions that wonwoo loves so much take over; you feel humiliated, you feel jilted, you feel used. and then you feel tears start to form, your vision blurred. you can't let him see you like this. you drop your gaze and start to walk away, your steps slow in hopes he’ll stop you. but why would he? only lovers stay the night; slaves are sent their way. 

seungcheol watches you get dressed, suppressing the urge to pull you back to him. he can’t be attached to a human, that isn’t how it works. humans are disposable, meant to fuck and feast on. he can’t. you turn around and bow, catching his eye for a second to quickly look away. the door creaks open as he watches you leave. you feel like a mess as the door shuts softly, and behind it, so does he. 

© 𝐖 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐃 do not edit/crop logo

vampires pt. 2 | pt. 1

tags: 2.7k, vampire! seventeen x human reader, 18+, mdni, dubcon, mind control, oral (m receiving), exhibitionism, threesome (mmf), bdsm, hardcore humiliation and degradation (verbal and physical)

wonwoo hates humans. doesn’t think they’re good for anything other than being warm holes he can cum in. he’s not interested in your muffled pleas for mercy, nor does he care that your throat is obviously closing around him — his cock constricting your airways. it’s not like you can push him back; it’s forbidden to touch him.  

‘she might choke’ jeonghan muses, nibbling on one of his sharp nails.

‘you think? i think she can take it’ joshua smiles, remembering the last time he made you take it — he had you begging at his feet to stop.

wonwoo’s got his cock stuffed all the way down your throat — bruising your insides, triggering your gag reflex. he’s been holding your head firm with both hands, satisfied groans spilling out of his mouth. you’re not sure how much longer you can breathe and that’s exactly what he’s after. wonwoo loved pushing humans to the brink, allowing them that desperate dose of life at the last second. that gulp of air was euphoric for his human and for him, orgasmic. 

he knows seeing your hands start to tremble with lack of air that it’s time to release you. ‘fuck-k’ he groans, watching you gasp, trying to drink in as much oxygen as possible.

‘open your fucking mouth’ you stick out your tongue obediently, feeling faint. there's a sharp inhale followed by a low exhale as he cums, intentionally missing your mouth to cum on your forehead instead. immediately, the room erupts into laughter watching the liquid drip down your face, painting your black blindfold with streaks of white.

he joins in, pushing your head back with a chuckle ‘stupid human’

you stay there, tongue out, kneeling, feeling it run down your skin, embarrassment seeping in. how stupid you must've looked.

‘hold your hands out’ he orders, pulling you out of your thoughts.

you bring them up, palms facing the sky and with a heavy grunt, he squeezes the last bit of cum onto your hands, the warm liquid coating your fingers.

‘thank you master’ wonwoo smirks, zipping up before grabbing your chain and turning you to the audience. he stands behind you, wrapping the chain around his hand, showing you off like he’s your owner.

‘now, we’re going to show them a trick. spread’ you sit on the freezing floor, spreading open.

‘you’re going to play with yourself with my cum. show everyone how you touch yourself’

‘fun!’ jeonghan sits up; he loved when something new was introduced to the show. even through the thick blindfold, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, your nipples becoming hard at the thought.

'quickly. what are you, teasing us?' wonwoo snaps, jerking at your collar.

you bring your coated fingers to your cunt, slowly mixing his warm cum in with your own sticky fluids, and suddenly there’s that voice in your head again — the one you’re sure doesn’t belong to you.

‘you’re a pathetic human’ it whispers ‘tell them’

‘i-i’m a pathetic human’ you announce making jeonghan cackle at the unexpectedness. he’s thoroughly amused.

‘just look at what you’ve been reduced to. rubbing yourself with my cum as a room full of people watch’ wonwoo’s demeaning words make your fingers move faster. 

'push it inside you' he commands and you take two fingers — wet with his cum and your own juices — and stick them in, depositing his seed inside you for everyone to see. 

‘such an obedient whore’ joshua praises, his gaze fixed on your fingers ‘does that feel good?’

you nod, whining. it wasn’t so much the feeling as it was how you were being watched right now, exposing something so private to everyone. you speed up, thinking of all the eyes on you but the more you do, the more you want to cum, and you’re never allowed to without permission.

‘can i please cum master?’ you try.

‘absolutely fucking not’ wonwoo snaps, walking in front and kicking your hand away. how dare you ask him already.

‘oh?’ jeonghan notices your fingers which are now soaked with just your juices and none of wonwoo’s ‘she has no cum left on her fingers’ he pouts, no longer finding this fun. 

‘come on’ wonwoo suddenly pulls at your collar, dragging you across the floor as you fumble to get on all-fours.

'take her to the bed' a sweet, melodic voice from the shadows suggests.

the bed as they liked to call it was not an actual bed. no, that would be too nice. it was a wooden bondage table with restraints to hold you in place. you, like others before you, were just a slave, there to put on a show and so the dungeon had everything — toys, tools, and contraptions to make sure the show was worth watching.

wonwoo bends you over the table, the hard wood uncomfortable already, and cuffs you — ankles tied to either foot and wrists bound to opposite corners.

‘wonwoo’ there’s a smile in jeonghan’s voice ‘use that on her. she gets soaked. it feels great to fuck’ you can’t see but you know exactly what he’s referring to. accidentally discovered by joshua when you were first brought here, the bullwhip had become their favourite toy.

new slaves were always initiated with a little lesson — mostly to discipline but mainly for entertainment. much to their surprise you had started to gush uncontrollably, cumming at the slightest touch after. unfortunately, they all had to use you and seungcheol was strictly against visible bruises. so they would only use it when he was away.

‘so you like feeling pain?’ wonwoo picks it off the wall, wrapping the whip around his fingers and pulling to hear the tautness. he lets it loose, the tip dragging across the ground.

you can hear his footsteps circle you as you breathe slow. any moment now.

‘at least you know your place-’ there’s a deafening crack as the leather hits your skin, making you yelp, your body jerking forward on your tip-toes from the shooting pain.

‘-and human slaves should always know their place’ he hits you again as you scream out, feeling the sting in your cunt.

you can tell from the way he cracks the whip that he’s done this a million times before. today his lashes are quick and highly controlled — more pleasurable, less punishing. through the haze of the radiating pain, you hear footsteps — light and silent — ones that belong to him and your cunt aches for what’s coming next.

jeonghan saunters over; his bony fingers on your hair, stroking and petting, while wonwoo grazes the whip over your searing skin. you could cum from this alone. you don’t know what it was but the pain of punishment paired with gentle care made your mind go numb and enter that place — one of quiet submission.

‘hit her again. you can take it, can’t you?’ jeonghan coaxes ‘you can take one more. i know you can’

whip. crack. pain. pleasure.

he strokes your cheek with his thumb as it hits, sliding it down to your quivering lips and pushing past them; and like every other time before this, you start sucking on it ‘give her another one. harder’

wonwoo cracks the whip again as you cry out in pain, immediately sucking on jeonghan’s thumb for comfort. your skin, now red and raised, is another lash away from breaking and jeonghan knows wonwoo won’t be able to control himself if it does.

‘i think she’s ready’

wonwoo walks behind you, grabbing your ass cheeks and spreading them open ‘look at that..’

you’re slick with arousal, your cunt glistening with your sopping wetness. wonwoo licks his lips, thinking about how warm and ready your cunt must feel. he needs his cock inside you, and he’s not the only one in the room that does. there’s another vampire, one in the darkness, tugging on his pants, trying to bury his desire.

wonwoo pulls his cock out, stroking himself hard before slapping his dick against your entrance. he slides the tip up and down, taking all your arousal and then pushes in, a low satisfied groan escaping his lips as he feels your warmth envelop him.

his cock is thick and long, and you can feel him so deep inside you. wonwoo’s thrusts are rough, each one a sharp and selfish. he fucks you cruelly, using you like your nothing more than a fucktoy. it’s honestly a perfect view for the audience — hands cuffed, blindfolded and your mouth wide open your mouth wide open as you moan in both pleasure and pain. the vampire in the darkness tugs at his pants again.

'mingyu' jeonghan sighs, bored by his hesitation 'just fuck her’ poor mingyu. he was always so cautious, unwilling to hurt humans without reassurance from his coven.

‘look, her mouth is empty. go. go feed her’

there’s a hesitant silence after which you hear footsteps — heavy and clumsy — as mingyu approaches.

'is it okay?' mingyu’s words cause an uproar of laughter. he was like that — polite — even before killing his prey, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

'he asked you if it’s okay’ joshua repeats.

‘it-it’s okay’

‘okay?’ wonwoo snarls, put off by your answer.

‘tell him it’s a fucking honour’ he grabs you by the hair, pulling on it to angle your face up towards mingyu.

‘beg for it bitch’ 

'pl-ease’ you stutter, suddenly nervous. wonwoo slides his hands down, wrapping both around your throat and pressing tight so it’s harder for you to speak.

‘beg louder’

‘please stick your cock in my mouth, master. please master, i want to be used by you’ you strain through every word. thankfully mingyu’s not one for teasing. he immediately unzips his pants, pulling out and pressing his cock to your lips as wonwoo lets go.

he rubs his wet tip against your lips, back and forth, before pushing past them. ‘fuc-k’ mingyu whines, gripping the table as he forces his entire length in in one go ‘your mouth is so warm' 

and too small to fit him. he’s huge. maybe even the biggest out of all of them and you just can’t do it. your mouth closes around him, teeth grazing his throbbing flesh.

‘oh..s-she can’t take it’

‘she will’ wonwoo leans ahead, hooking two fingers on either side of your mouth to stretch you open. you feel utterly humiliated; imagining just how pathetic you look as mingyu puts his cock back in, letting out a breathy moan of satisfaction.

somewhere in the audience jeonghan smiles, exchanging a look with joshua, knowing they’ll need you in this position for next time.

wonwoo keeps you hooked and starts thrusting, fucking you onto mingyu’s cock. the sensation of two cocks sliding in and out of either end was something you’d started to crave after being used by those two.

mingyu matches his pace to wonwoo’s, both pulling out completely and then filling up your empty holes at once. it’s not just your body that’s stimulated; the way mingyu’s rising whimpers pair with wonwoo’s hard grunts makes your brain buzz.

‘..so good’ you hear mingyu mutter to himself. wonwoo’s thrusts turn harder, his skin slapping against yours, each one making your bruises burn. you moan at the pain, the vibrations of which mingyu feels all over his cock. ‘f-fuck yes’ he whines, getting closer with each moan. you didn’t expect him to be such a sadist, but here he was, pulsing in your mouth.

‘i n-need to cum’ mingyu pants, pulling out and masturbating himself in front of your face ‘i want you to watch me cum on you’ he pulls your blindfold down, feeling his cock twitch as your eyes meet.

‘you’re so pretty’ he whimpers, cupping your face with a hand as continues touching himself with the other. fragile, captive humans were so pretty to mingyu that he could cum just by seeing that helpless look in their eyes.

‘keep looking. right at me. y-yes, just like that’ he moans, his grip tightening around his head. there’s only one thing that could make this moment better — seeing your eyes brimming with tears.

it’s like wonwoo knows and suddenly, so abruptly, there’s a sharp shooting pain as he spanks you, the impact of his palm on your bruises making you wail, your eyes wet with fresh tears. ‘p-perfect’ mingyu moans, pushed over the edge.

‘fuck, i’m going to-’ he cums prematurely, trying to shoot it in your mouth but misses, shooting ropes and ropes of thick white cum all over the place. some of it paints your face, but most spills onto the table, pooling in little pockets. mingyu often came messy like that; especially when he was so eager to.

‘s-sorry’ he apologises — not to you but to the audience for ruining his cumshot.

‘we don’t apologise in front of lowly humans, and look, this will be more fun’ joshua walks over, pulling your blindfold back up before pressing your face flat against the table.

‘now what did we say about manners? you shouldn’t waste your food. lick it clean’ he orders. you hesitate for a second before sticking your tongue out, aimlessly licking the wood beneath you until you taste mingyu’s sour cum.

‘disgusting whore’ it’s nothing short of a compliment for joshua.

watching you slurp mingyu’s cum while your face is covered with more is strangely arousing for wonwoo. he picks up the pace, his aggressive thrusts making your tongue clean the table. ‘dirty whore’ he mutters, angling his hips up and shoving his cock in to reach your most sensitive spot. you squeeze around him so tight, moaning like a common whore. so he keeps stimulating it, over and over, hungry for more; and a few seconds later you can’t take it anymore.

‘please master, can i cum?’ desperate words spill out of your mouth without a second thought.

‘huh? you want to cum?’

‘yes, please’ he yanks a fistful of your hair, lifting your head up.

‘ask them’ he points you to the faceless audience ‘ask them for permission’

‘please let me cum, please, please, p-please’

‘what do we think?’ joshua pretends to care but he’s already made up his mind. he has no plans of letting you cum today; he wants your desperation to build so when him and jeonghan are playing with you, it’ll be that much more fun.

‘no, the slave can’t cum today’ jeonghan hums, having the same thought.

wonwoo pushes your face back down ‘see, they don’t think you deserve it. worthless whores like you don’t deserve to feel pleasure, they’re just gaping holes to cum inside’ he grips your waist, pressing you into the table; his thrusts harder, deeper, faster.

‘pleas-e’ you’re desperate.

‘shut up or i’ll rip your throat out’ wonwoo growls, digging his icy fingers into your bruises as you scream, his thrusts now frenzied. the sound of him mercilessly pounding into you fills the room and he lets out a final groan, cumming, a sudden burst of warm liquid filling you up.

‘fuck’ he groans, pulsing inside you, dumping every last bit of his cum in your hole. he spreads your ass, pulling out, as his cum slowly trickles out of you. it’s the perfect cumshot but wonwoo’s distracted by something far more appealing — the red bruises on your ass, so close to bleeding.

he wants you so bad. not yet he tells himself. it would be a shame to not fuck you again.

‘who’s next?’

the rest of the night is a blur. you’re used continuously, cum dripping out of every hole — your mouth, your cunt, your ass — as the show finally comes to an end.

‘you’ve put on such a good show today’ jeonghan praises ‘everyone clap!’

there’s a resounding applause during which wonwoo finally pulls your blindfold off and your eyes dart around the room searching for the one person you haven’t heard a single word from — seungcheol.

‘are you looking for someone?’

you shake your head, quickly dropping your gaze. wonwoo bends, whispering it like he’s letting you in on a secret ‘he left. a long time ago. the moment you pushed my cum into your dirty cunt he couldn’t stand to look at you anymore’ and suddenly you’re wracked with an all-consuming guilt.

he gazes into your guilty eyes, that snarky little smile returning to his lips.

yes, wonwoo hates human but there is one thing he truly loves about them — their useless emotions, and right now he’s elated you’re drowning in yours.

an alternate trio where mingyu is married and he and his wife find their babysitter very attractive

smth smth gyu's wife absentmindedly admiring you and realizing how good you look beside her husband. instead of seeing red though, she starts getting wet for some reason that escapes her 👁️

gyu of course notices how different his wife's been acting. not really distant or cold, just different. wandering eyes and heavy sighs sometimes. he begins to worry she's seeing someone else.

until one day, in an effort to reignite their marriage or whatever, he takes the family to the beach or a resort of some kind. he has you tag along so there'd be someone to look after their daughters (ages 8 and 6), that way he could give his wife all his attention.

except, he notices the way her eyes drop to take in the way your chest fills out your cute bikini, and how the plump of your ass squeezes against the waterproof material of your short shorts.

then he notices the way she's squeezing her legs together. well, he can't really blame his wife for finding you attractive (he does too), but he is surprised by the fact 🤷🏽‍♀️

gyu doesn't act on it though. a fantasy is a fantasy yk? until night falls and the kids are asleep and you're in your own room (the kims are very... generous).

gyu finally gets his hands on his wife, now confident that she isn't cheating on him. it's as he's eating her out, ravishing her, really, that he hears it. that soft, easy-to-miss sigh of your name.

he couldn't have been mistaken, not with the way his wife's cunt slickens up presumably at the thought of you, and definitely not mistaken when his cock twitches in its confines 🤷🏽‍♀️

but you know, whatever rooms resorts have aren't exactly soundproof. as generous as the kims are, they don't have any control over that, plus they have to keep you close anyway. how were they supposed to know their bedroom shared a wall with yours?

the constant banging of their bed against the wall and the little whimpers and grunts that seeped through the walls and into your room would've been absolutely fucking annoying if it weren't for the fact that you found your employers attractive. especially when they're together. you've seen the way they touch each other when they think nobody's looking, how they whisper and giggle to each other.

you tried, you really did, to just shut it out and go to sleep. but they were getting louder and louder. thank god the kids' room was on the opposite side of the suite; you were their only audience.

and, well, you might as well enjoy yourself.

you only have a vague idea of what they're doing, but they must be doing it good, you think to yourself as your hand slips past the waistband of your pyjamas. nobody has to know, mr and mrs kim dont have to know how their babysitter rubbed her wet cunt to the sound of them fucking. no, this is something you'll take to the grave. something you'll tuck into the back of your mind, try not to think of when you're in their vicinity, and only take out during particularly lonely nights.

they don't need to know how you plunged your fingers as deep as you can into your squelching pussy, thinking about mingyu fucking you right after he'd fuck his wife, taking it as she watches and plays with her cum-filled cunt, riling herself up again. they dont need to know that you've thought about them like this before, that you've touched yourself to the thought of eating out gyu's cum right out of his wife's pussy.

no, they don't need to know that. and they certainly don't need to know that you heard them moan your name.

i think gyu would egg his wife on tbh, she's still a little unsure so he makes sure to give her that little boost like, maybe moaning her name would release some of that tension.

she's wary of the fact that you're literally in the next room, but fuck it, she's not thinking straight with her husband's dick inside her so she goes for it. she gets a little too loud, and mingyu giggles a little, but they hear nothing from your end so they figure you've gone to sleep.

they realize just how fucking hot it is to moan your name while they're fucking each other tbh and just go at it, each of them playing a fantasy including you in their minds 🤷🏽‍♀️

i'll probably never write a full fic of this but hey! inbox is open if you guys wanna be insane over this trio or the og one

Me going to watch The Crown even though I can't stand the monarchy

every season of the crown is just "which hobby did philip entertain himself with this decade"

warnings: noncon, stepcest but not really (depends on how you look at it)

wc. 441

ft. wonwoo, mingyu

seungcheol hated you.

that would never change. ever since his father introduced him to you, something about you didn’t sit right with his spirit.

he knew it when you met that you would quickly become the object of his loathing, without a second thought. maybe it was cruel that he smiled when something bad happened to you, or when you were inconvenienced in any way, but he thought you were only being punished for your behavior. 

he hated that you dressed like a whore. it was the first thing he noticed about you, the little thong poking out of your low-rise jeans that your mother had advised against you wearing, given the occasion, but you never listened.

that was another thing seungcheol hated about you - your obstinacy. how stuck in your ways you were, rigid to your very core, refusing to hear out other people when convinced that your way was the only way. on top of your evident lack of dignity from the degrading outfits you handpicked, he hated your resolve.

and he wanted to break it out of you.

“cheol,” you gasped, breaths coming faster in between your desperate whimpers. “seungcheol, help! please!”

obviously, seungcheol did nothing when you called out for him, drowning out your cries as if they were nothing but white noise. maybe if he thought you deserved his respect, he would’ve never let this happen, but you clearly didn’t respect yourself. there was no way you could expect him to afford you something you never cared for.

so rather than helping you like how you begged for him to, seungcheol tipped the glass he was drinking out of to his lips and watched. he watched mingyu restrain you against the hardwood floor, your sore wrists locked in his fingers as he shoved himself inside you even deeper. he watched wonwoo hover his cock over your belly, stroking himself to ecstasy, eyes closed.

and he did nothing. he hated you so much that he didn’t even want to fuck you himself, as if it would leave a permanent stain on him. seungcheol preferred to watch you in distress. he loved the damp mascara darkening your face, running down your cheeks and gathering uglily around your eyes. he loved how desperate you sounded, how your voice pitched higher with every strained breath you took.

maybe most sickeningly of them all, he loved the way you called out for him, idiotically wanting to believe that seungcheol would never sit there and let something this egregious happen to you. 

oh, how wrong you were.

seungcheol hated you. always had, always would, but damn he loved to see you suffer.

Rules

Genre: smut,crack || warnings: sex (always use protection),fingering, giving head, Mingyu disturbing reader and Wonwoo MINORS DNI

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Summary: Wonwoo had to make some rules because his best friend and roommate Mingyu always managed to disturb the two of you.

Note: this was an idea i once had and decided to post it. It's JUST for fun ᵔᴥᵔ

Note 2: it's just a little drabble

Rule.1

Sex at his place is absolutely not allowed. Well, not anymore. After Mingyu came into Wonwoo's room while he was balls deep inside you and just about to come, he couldn't do that anymore. And the worst part, Mingyu didn't even leave immediately, he saw your tits (yes,he got turned on) and told the other's that he caught the two of you while fucking (everyone was convinced Wonwoo and you don't sleep with each other) they made fun of him for a while.

The only noises in his room that could be heard were skin on skin and heavy breathing. Both of you were as quiet as possible and Wonwoo was biting down your collarbone, to keep himself from moaning out loud.

"Baby, i'm close..fuck,i'm going to cum." He groaned into your ear.

His cock twitched inside you and just then his bedroom door opened.

"Wonwoo, do you- oh my god, I'm sorry.. shit,sorry." Mingyu said, talking fast.

Mingyu didn't even bother to leave the room and just stood there watching.

"You are unbelievable Kim Mingyu, leave the fucking room." Wonwoo said through gritted teeth. And Mingyu? He tripped over his own feet while leaving the room. Even worse, he had to get the image of your tits out of his head somehow and he had to get rid of his boner.

Meanwhile Wonwoo was pissed and his mood for Sex was gone.

"It's okay, we knew the risk..it could be worse." You said to him and caressed his cheek softly.

"You didn't even cum yet neither did i..from now on we can't fuck here anymore, you're place it is." He said grumpy.

The next day when he went to the studio, Seokmin was already waiting for him and knowing Mingyu all too well he must have told him, because Seokmin was smiling a little too treacherously.

"Whatever you have to say,don't say it." Wonwoo said while walking towards the door.

"Oh come on, it's something so normal and congrats to you and y/n..everyone thought all you guys are doing is holding hands and watching movies." Wonwoo rolled his eyes and hoped the day would go by fast.

Rule.2

Fingering you is allowed and you're allowed to jerk him off. And why? Because just in case Mingyu decided to walk in on you again so it would be faster to stop. Oh wait, that's exactly what happened again.

A few weeks later you and Wonwoo were watching a movie together but instead of actually watching, Wonwoo had his fingers in your pants or better said in your pussy and his lips were on yours. You were moaning into the kiss while Wonwoo stroked your walls and went to your clit until you couldn't stay still anymore. You were grinding against his fingers, feeling your orgasm approaching you. And this very moment Wonwoo was pulling his hand out from your pants, pretending like he never fingered you just a few seconds before,when his door opened.

Mingyu had his eyes closed when he stepped inside.

"You can open your eyes, we're just watching a movie." Wonwoo assured him.

"I forgot to knock, sorry and thank god, you're not naked. I made dinner and wanted to ask you if you guys are hungry too." Mingyu smiled so proudly and you just couldn't say no. Even though you were really horny and wet.

"I'm actually really hungry,we're out in a few minutes." You let him know.

And Mingyu walked happily back to the kitchen.

"y/n i can't go out there like this, i'm fucking hard and i can't believe this happened again."

"Do you think it's any better for me? Let's just eat and then finish where we stopped okay?"

While eating, Mingyu talked about his plans for later, he wanted to meet a friend. Wonwoo and you shared looks with each other, thinking the same.

After dinner you helped Mingyu with the dishes while your boyfriend had to make a phone call. And then around 30 minutes later the two of you were alone.

Wonwoo was fast, his lips on yours, his tongue explored your mouth and then he gently pushed you onto his bed. He pulled down your pants and settled himself between your legs.

"Mingyu forgot his wallet, so I need to be fast." He said while pulling his own pants down and entered you. He was actually not a big fan of going fast, but he had to make you cum before his best friend got back.

Wonwoo picked up pace and his thrusts became deep hitting your g-spot just right. Then his hand wandered down to your clit.

"I'm close already baby,you too right?Come on my cock."

Wonwoo moaned your name and then he sucked on your neck, leaving a hickey while you could feel his hot cum painting your walls. You came right after him, your nails dug into his skin on his shoulders, making him groan.

Right when the two of you came down from your high, you could hear the door outside. You were surprised about how your boyfriend was right. You looked at him and Wonwoo gave you the told you so look.

Rule.3

No showering together anymore. The reason is simple, while giving your boyfriend head, Mingyu decided to just walk into the bathroom. Wonwoo got startled and accidentally thrusted a little too hard into your mouth before helping you up.

"Fuck yes, your mouth feels so good..hmm just like that..don't stop baby." Wonwoo was so lost in pleasure and bliss while you swirled your tongue around him and started to deep throating him.

Right at this moment the door opened "you two are so fucking nasty. Can't you just wait or go to y/n's place? No one can be this horny all the time."

Wonwoo got startled and thrusted too hard making you gag "for fucks sake, Mingyu.Not again. Can't you just knock for once? I thought you were out" And then helped you up and stood in front of you.

Suddenly Soonyoung stood in the bathroom "bro, you were right..These two are horny lovebirds. You proved your point Wonwoo, we get it now." Then the two men went outside again and you heard them laughing.

"I think we should just always go over to my place, don't you think?"

Wonwoo sighed "You're right, you're right."

And from this day on, the rules were made and the two of you never had sex again at Wonwoo's place.

Good Dad, Better Daddy (m)

Pairing: Fem!reader x dilf!Mingyu

Genre: smut, angstish

word count: 8.4k

tags: plot rich, age gap, morally gray reader, medical student!reader, mentor!reader, best friend's dad!mingyu, kissing joshua and brief mentions of jeonghan, forced proximity, domestic au, mention of alcohol, spitting, oral (rec.), praise kink, pet names (good girl) pussy spitting, spanking, daddy kink, exhibitionism, face cumming, pearl necklaces, unprotected sex

Summary: you were hesitant when your friend said you should just stay at her house for the summer, especially knowing you can barely contain yourself with her hot dad around as well as the thought of not getting caught.

author note: so this one is real, as promised. its filthy. messy. and dramatic

@shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @onlymingyus

You had a pretty normal taste in men. It wasn’t extraordinary, like he had to be super talented at one thing or had to come from loads of old money. What you envisioned for yourself was a nice man with a humble heart, great taste in food–if he could help it–be fit and find you just as attractive as you find him.

Kim Mingyu, your college friend’s biological father, could not be this man. He could never be this man. Not for the fact that he is unattractive–good heavenly gods and goddesses, how does a man like this exist–because he is just that, incredibly gorgeous and big and tall and hot.

The point is, you’re still looking, and this summer was the perfect time to do that. The problem was that Minhee–the trustworthy underclassmen/good friend/daughter of the infamously hot dad that somehow surfaced all over campus–invited, well insisted, that you stay with her for the remainder of summer break.

You had gotten close with her over the school year as a mentor, working her though pre-med to prepare her for actual medical school, yours specifically since it was best in the whole ding dang country. You just happen to mention your parents lived out of the way and you couldn’t visit them this year, so summer break had been a fleeting thought in your mind. Minhee, irrevocably delightful and considerate, wanted to show thanks for all the time you put into helping her and mention the spare room at her home half an hour away from campus.

The same home with the incredibly gorgeous father of hers that you had the pleasure of meeting once at a college picnic. It was a hot day, and he wore a sleeveless tank top that was transparent from the sweat of several rounds of volleyball, clinging on to him like a thin additional layer of skin. Attention was on him like a single acorn in a field of squirrels, gnawing at the sight of such a specimen with abs and pecs so taut and round you could mistake them for the brioche buns for the grilled burgers you were all having. And now, you are going to have the pleasure of living in close quarters with him. Only God knows how this would go.

“Good seeing you again, Y/n. Need help getting that upstairs?”

Mr. Kim, who urges you to call him Mingyu instead, is pointing out the duffle bag the size of a human being loaded on your back that you physically struggled to carry in. You remember your mom once pointing out how it looked ridiculous strapped to you like that. That was the point mother. It eliminated any potential advances.

You grin back at him with wide, platonically amicable smile, “Nope, all good,” then made your first steps over to the stairs and you can practically feel his presence lingering behind you as you walked up, probably waiting for you to fall so he could catch you in his stupidly large arms.

“Are you sure? I’m all for being a feminist, independence and what not, but I don’t know if I can let a bag that big potentially get you to trip fall down these stairs. Just had them remodeled.” God, his smile was dazzling, and those pretty canines could mark you like a badge you’d wear proudly.

“I’m good, Mr. Kim. Your glossy wood boards are safe under my feet, I promise.”

He scoffs, following you back up the stairs. “What did I tell you about calling me Mingyu, hmm? Plus you’re a guest. Since I’m the one that’s paid off this house, that means something.”

Please. He’s so witty, funny, and charming in addition to being so, so hot. This was going to be a long summer. 

You toss the bag on the bed in the room Mingyu had claimed would be your ‘home away from home,’ and you smile at him in gratitude for keeping the peace.

“While I appreciate it, it’s all good. Thank you, though.” You were painfully aware of your hair sticking out in the most unflattering angles, your cheeks warm and face sweaty from climbing up a flight of stairs, and your loud obnoxious pants that could compete with your old neighbor’s golden retriever that had breathing problems. Nope, not even giving him an opportunity to think about any potential of being in bed with him. The question was, were you trying to convince him or yourself?

“Well then, Minhee is with her mom for another hour, so you won’t see her until then. If you’re hungry I could always whip you something up in the meantime. Save you some lunch money.”

Before you could protest, the eruption of thunder in your stomach interrupts you, earning Mingyu your sheepish grin and you one of Mingyu’s know-it-all smiles. “I guess a sandwich or something couldn’t hurt.”

He beckons you with a head tilt. “Come on down, you can help me. We can make something for Minhee before she gets here, too.”

Let’s make things clear. When Kim “DILF” Mingyu asks you to follow him to hell, you follow him to hell. When he offers to make you food, you happily devour it. And when he asks you for help in the kitchen, you tell him “yes, chef,” like you’re his doting little follower. You convince yourself it’s because you grew up with manners in your household. Helping elders was the least you could do. Mingyu, being much older, just naturally fell into that category.

“So, Minhee has only good things to say about you. I can’t thank you enough for helping her.”

He shoves the fabric of his button up to his elbows and proceeds to grab things from top sleeves you wouldn’t otherwise reach, handing you a grater and block of cheese to conjure up some of his famous Kimchi pasta. You’re carefully holding the grater steady by the handle, taking the block from the tip and spreading. “Well, Minhee’s awesome, I can’t thank her enough for being amazing. Getting into medical school was insane for me and she’s just breezing through. You have a very intelligent daughter, Mr. Kim.”

“Mingyu.” He repeats, as if telling you once wasn’t enough.

You shake your head while scrunching your nose. “Doesn’t roll off the tongue for me, sorry.”

Pouting, he glances at you in a light-hearted glare. “Fine. Treat me like a stranger. Eat my food like I’m a personal chef. I'm just Minhee’s old man after all.”

You roll your eyes with a smile on your lips. “Fine. Mingyu. Happy?”

“Much.”

His tone is happy, playfully, yet effortlessly alluring. Especially as he strides your way, standing mere inches away from you to retrieve a bountiful cheese nestling inside the grater, which he scoops up into a bowl to put in his decadent red sauce simmering over the stove. He meets your eyes in a soft gaze, the one that makes you hear music in your head, politely asking, “more please,” and tossing bowel’s contents to the pan.

He wants more cheese, you’d grate more cheese. What you did not intend was a piece of your palm to get caught in the metal. You wince, causing you to drop the cheese grater and hold up your hand to examine the damage.

“What’s wrong?” He immediately comes back to your side and takes your hand in his large grasp, seeing the cut for the first time, fresh with red. “Be more careful, please.”

His eyes crinkle in concern, thumbing over the sensitive layer skin, and releasing a sigh from his lips. Your eyes flutter, startled at his quick return, feeling the tension of his forearms as it brushed against yours. He could’ve not looked more attractive than this very moment and now you were wondering how many accidents you can get yourself into before he starts suspecting they’re intentional.

“I’m okay. Just a bit of a scratch.”

The way his eyes flit back at you in disbelief, almost as if there’s anger in them, and that simple look makes something in your chest do somersaults. “Are you kidding me? You’re bleeding. I’m getting first aid.”

“Mingyu–”

“Sit down, Y/n.”

Why, yes, sir.

You take the seat on the bar stool, watching as Mingyu momentarily turns off the stove and grabs a little red box. He pulls it apart, setting most of the contents on the counter. He treats the cut delicately, quietly, gracefully. Making sure it’s properly clean from infection, he places a bandaid, trapping in the sensitivity.

“Thank you.” You squeak out.

He gives you a soft grin. “Not a problem. Didn’t expect to be babying two girls this weekend.”

Babying. That word lingered in your mind longer than it should have. It invades your brain, crawling into the inner workings of thoughts pushed aside and echoed in your head. It bothered you and you have the faintest idea why.

You snicker humorously. “I’m definitely not a baby.”

He shrugs, smoothing out the adhesive. “Of course not. Not many babies are accomplished enough to graduate cum laude to get into medical school with 4.0 GPA, while building a philanthropy for families that suffered from loss due to the worldwide pandemic.”

You shyly shield away hearing that. You hadn’t expressed that part of your life often with other people. Most of the time, you are found out, having people commend you when the topic is brought up. But you didn’t do it for attention, including Mingyu’s. “Minhee told you that?” You watch for his response, seeing his lips curl up in a foreign method.

“No, she didn’t.”

You shake your head, bemused. “How did you hear that then?”

“I did my own research on you. Making sure you weren’t some kid making Minhee out for a quick buck.”

“And?” You had a feeling there was more to it.

His posture has shifted, expression somewhat twisted, and eyes fixated on you. Like he is undressing you in his head as we speak.

“I wasn’t disappointed.”

A gust of wind expels from your lungs and despite the vagueness in both your words, it’s as if you were speaking your own language. He lets go of your hand, but visibly craves being closer. Cursing his better judgment, he doesn’t take the risk, and instead takes a step back instead. Your arm lunges forward, off your seat and towards Mingyu, and your hand wraps around his forearm. You trail over his expression, cautious and hesitation, and you let a digit impulsively run down his arms, now pebbling in goosebumps under your touch.

“Why do you look scared of me?” you ask, now grinning.

He looks as if he wants to brush off the comment, but his defense fails to let him. “Why would I be scared of you?”

“You tell me, Mr. Kim,” You raise a brow. “Or I’m sorry, Mingyu. Since that is what you like me calling you. Mingyu.”

He scoffs, feeling backed into a corner. The image was funny since he had the very build to do that same, but here he was. Trapped. Being interrogated. None other than a college student only a few years older than his daughter. “Can you blame a guy for wanting to make things less awkward?”

“What is there to be awkward about–I’m not awkward,” you lie through your teeth, pressing a palm to your chest, “Is there something you feel awkward about? Mingyu.”

His name burns on your tongue differently, stark in contrast to its original purpose of dropping formalities. Maybe it could drop pants instead.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, Y/n.”

Looks like you’ve hit a nerve.

“I’m simply trying to get to know you better, considering that’s what it sounded like you wanted. Are you trying to get to know me, Mingyu? What things do you want to know?”

His bottom lip drops from the corner of his mouth, blinking back at your taunts in intrigue, and shifts the weight on his legs. He takes the moment to scan you from head to toe, deliberating your question, leaning closer against you until you find your back digging into the marble of the counter. His hands plant on either side of you. His warm breath fans your cheeks, spicy cologne  surrounding you at all angles, and he ponders at you from the dark wisps of hairs that fell at his eyes.

“Are you ready for that answer? Truly?”

You swallow a lump in your throat, already caught in those eyes that now trailed over your body shamelessly. He looks at you as if he held back this whole time and has finally let loose of the reins. His hands smoothed over the marble, meeting each other, locking fingers, and trapping you in his careful embrace.

Your hand falls to his first chest, feeling the pure stone beneath the thin layer of fabric on top of him. You let out a shallow breath, eyes roaming over the man you so desperately wished wasn’t constantly in your mind. God, did he feel utterly exquisite. 

Your hands trail up the nape of his neck, lifting yourself from your toes, and let your lips ghost over his. Your hot, anxious breath fans his face, and the pulse you feel under your palm heightens. “I think I have a right to know a lot of what you’re not telling me.”

‘Fuck me. Fuck me right now against this counter. I promise I’ll be good. Please lord, give it to me.’

Your wishes aren’t granted when you hear a car pull up and Mingyu immediately backs off, shaking his head like falling out of a trace.

‘No! No! Minhee. What the fuck? What the fuck? I was this close to fucking your dad and I was willing to do so much.’

You internally sob, hearing the beep of the vehicle go off, and a few seconds after a jangle of keys, the door swings open. “The prophetic child had arrived!”

You settle into the marble in defeat. Trying to muster up anything other than disappointment on your face as you watch Mingyu retreat from you and wrap his arms around his daughter. “Took you long enough, kid. Was thinking you forgot about me.”

“How could I even think about leaving the two of you alone in one place? You are embarrassing enough.”

His arm slings over her shoulders, planting an old fashioned noogie on the crown of her head. “Take that back. Say I’m the coolest.”

“Dad, what the heck? You’re so annoying!”

Minhee talks a lot of smack, but she smiles the brightest around her dad. Their smiles couldn’t be any more different, considering she got that from her mom, but you could see a lot of Mingyu in Minhee. Your stomach is now bubbling up in guilt, momentarily grim, before pushing yourself to meet her halfway. “Hi, Minhee.”

“Y/n!” She shoves Mingyu out of the way and grips you with so much force and warmth. “You really came! Gosh, this summer is gonna be so great.”

Minhee takes you aside, switches eyes back and forth from me and her father, chipper like an elf the day after Christmas. “My two favorite people in one summer. Don’t tell mom.”

“Why not,” he joins your embrace, fingers brushing against your bicep making your micro hairs stand stiff on your arm. “It could really bother her with this. I have every mind to.”

“Don’t you dare! Anyway, what's for lunch?”

Mingyu doesn’t pay the slightest attention to you during the meal after what almost transpired in the very place you prepared it. You fork over your food door in contempt, watching their animated conversation long enough to analyze their relationship. Minhee is as easy going as her dad, all smiles and radiance, and while Mingyu was well into his age, it doesn't appear so as he emits this natural youth that seems to combat age better than that of the most expensive, luxurious cream on the market. He aged incredibly. Even the smell of fermented cabbage couldn’t bring disdain to his presence.

“Hope dad’s been nice. He can be a lot.”

You’re pulled away from your thoughts and you smile back at the younger girl, not letting it reach near your eyes. “Oh, he’s been…inviting.”

Mingyu clears his throat at that, hands giving out in a slight tremble as he reaches over to retrieve his beverage.

“Probably overly inviting. He has a habit of that, but that is usually what scares the bad ones away. He’s always given my ex-boyfriends this illusion of comfort and hospitality, but then rips them apart when they say anything remotely critical about me.” She playfully shudders, “he can go psycho.”

“I am right here, darling daughter.”

“Good, because you needed to hear it.”

You chuckle in amusement, feeling honored you get to witness such a wholesome relationship. Their familial interactions eventually come to an end and dishes are gathered to get washed. You volunteer yourself to help, reasoning with the Kims that you were a grateful guest living here for free, and that this was the least you could do.

“Not with your cut.” Mingyu points out.

Minhee’s eyes shoot open at you. “You got a cut?”

“It’s fine,” you reassure, “I’ll wear gloves. Why don’t you get the movie ready that you’ve been wanting to watch?”

“I actually thought of taking us out, if that’s okay. We should spend the first night out, not at home. Silly.”

“Oh?”

You hadn’t thought about leaving the house much, only expecting a few dinners out when the night prompted, but it was a Thursday afternoon. What much was there to do on a hot summer weekday? What was even open?

“There's just this place I wanted to check out since getting back into town and I just know you would love it. Please?” 

You were actually really hoping to finish that moment again with Mingyu, calling in a bathroom break when you’re really having him rail you down the stairs with his hand clamped over your mouth. “Sure. Why not? We deserve it.”

Minhee claps with joy. “Great! I’m gonna get ready.”

The girl makes her excited steps up the stairs, the thumps of her feet distancing from earshot as you come up over the sink. You pull the gloves over your forearm as warm water runs down the rubber. “I guess I should hurry up and get ready too.”

You peer at Mingyu from the corner of your eyes. For the first time, an unreadable expression is on his face, and he’s taken over in silence. He thinks to walk over, hovering his footing, and gradually approaching you in a smooth stride. “You girls have fun.”

That was a strange response considering your moment together. You direct your body to him, “Um, Mingyu, are you acting strange becau–”

“We should let what happened not come between us. Just a fleeting moment. Natural with two adults. You understand.”

With that he walks away from you, only having his back into view as tracks his way back to his room, leaving you abandoned, horny, ashamed.

Fuck it. You will have a good time.

As soon as you and Minhee were both ready, you’d have a great time out, and you’d make sure of it. You leave the house together, punching the thought of Mingyu away and enjoy drinks at the new bar located a short drive from her place. The atmosphere is lively and well and the drinks, although pricey, were delicious nonetheless. 

The occasional image of Mingyu mere centimeters away from you would appear in your head and with that, you immediately swallow down your drink, drowning him until it’s a blur. It helps that Minhee liked talking, and you dind’t mind in the slightest. She was good company, one of the many reasons you like being around Minhee. It seems that you weren’t the only one to agree as you swarmed by company.

They introduced themselves as Jeonghan and Joshua, two gentlemen that planned on scoping out the location to see how it competes with theirs, evidently poaching new clientele. They urge both you and Minhee to visit their place another time, persuading you with a few free drinks and perks they were willing to give. You looked back at Minhee, seeing the same temptation in her eyes you felt in yourself, and you accepted, letting them know you’d be coming. 

The rest of the time is a blur–enjoying the presence of the music, eating, drinking, enjoying your first night out in a long time–and you feel a body against yours. You turn your head to see Joshua, finding the warmth of his strong, thick body lost in yours. You indulge, feeling the sweet release of liquor on your tongue and allowing him to roam your body with no protest.

You let a few moans slip, his hand automatically creeping over your waist. He grins angelically, but him on you feels like a constant devil on your shoulder. “You’ll make it, right? I’ll only come into work that night for you.”

You giggle like he said the funniest thing in the world, turning to face him and putting your hands over his shoulders, staring into his big eyes. “I promise.”

He holds you close that night, like Mingyu should’ve, but it does not breach the point of dancing. You appreciated that. When the night came to a close, you and Minhee got your UBER home. You wave away that kept you both company tonight and come back to Kim's residence a little lighter. Mingyu was nowhere in sight when you got home, so you drag Minhee up the stairs before that happens.

It takes a minute to wash her up, but eventually she gets into bed, and falls into a peaceful slumber. You were ready to have your turn. Peeling off your clothes, washing your face, and showering everything off was going to feel like a reset. You weren’t going to let the disappointment from today dictate the rest of your summer. Kim Mingyu was not why you came here. You were here to have the time of your life with your closest friend.

Walking out in the hallway to retrieve toiletries and extra clothes, there he stood. Shirtless–of course, he was–tan, taut, large. This man was a fucking mountain. He drags himself over to you in his gray sweats. “You’re both home late.”

“Night got away, sorry.” You weren’t sorry.

“As long as you’re both safe,” he grins kindly, “How's your hand?”

You bring it up in the air for him to see. “Perfectly fine. Didn't even feel it.”

Doubtful, he gets to grab it, ignoring your feeble protest. He turns it from front to back, stepping closer to you, shooting electricity throughout your body. The longer he lingers in your proximity, another one of his senses takes over. Nose stifling breaths, he’s leaning in, inhaling the scent on your body. You feel heat running up to your cheeks, flustered by his sudden urgency. “Do you always wear men’s cologne?”

Confusion displays on your face. You pick up the top hem of your blouse for a quick sniff and there it was, the scent he was referring to. Some concoction of sea breeze and sage lightly coated your clothes. Must’ve been Joshua. “Probably caught it from someone from the bar we went to.”

“You met someone?” He asks plainly.

You shrug, an unsure smile on your face. “I don’t know.”

There’s an unreadable look on his face you catch until it turns solemn, dropping your hand. “Get some rest.”

He trots off to his own room, his dark figure shrinking as he gets further away. You take a long sigh the moment he’s gone from sight, wallowing in that sinking sensation of knowing what had happened this afternoon. The position you place yourself in, the position he placed himself, was over.

After showering, you went to bed hoping the next day would be better. You shouldn’t have been sad. You had a decent night. Drank loads, danced all night long, mingled with people you don't feel guilty about. And tomorrow will be a new day.

Morning is spent with a Kim’s style breakfast, which means an abundance of anything they can make with leftover ingredients from the kitchen. Mingyu was bright and early along with Minhee, and she didn’t look like she lost one hour of sleep that night. She greets you as friendly as always and Mingyu follows.

You join the meal in silence, playing off as recovering from the night before–which wasn’t wrong–and eat your portion, feeling it fuel the unruly mood you were in. Damn, he was a good cook.

“You girls have anything fun to do today?”

Minhee answers with utter delight. “I’m taking Y/n to this other bar we were recommended last night.”

You nod in compliance with that.

“Well, if that’s all, why don’t we go grocery shopping? I’ve been setting all kinds of guest stuff at the house but forgot to stock up the fridge. You and Y/n can pick out whatever you need. I’ll pay.”

You look up, stopping him. “You don’t have to do that.”

He shares that kind of look he gives when he’s in front of his daughter, but a ghost of the lusty gaze was still fresh in your mind. “I’m not forcing myself to do anything. Just hoping to be a welcoming host. Think of it as a family outing. You get to be one of us.”

Minhee snorts at that. “Could you be anymore of a dad?”

“So what I’m hearing is you don’t want free snacks and sodas to have at the house?” He reiterates in hopes of tempting her.

“Well, I didn't say that.”

Mingyu laughs, turning back to you. “So?”

“Sure.” You respond with a forced smile.

Minhee made no concern about making a dent in Mingyu’s wallet and if he minded, he didn’t show it. You figured with the big house they have that this would be no different from a kid in a candy store seeing her spring everywhere and excited to show you local products only sold at this specific market. You would giggle at anything and all comments she’s made coming across something out of the ordinary and Mingyu would trail behind with his full cart like the dad he is.

“Oh my god, I think I just saw someone! You and dad, wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Minhee trots off by herself, leaving you and Mingyu alone again in your awkward silence. Having nothing to say, you didn’t, and you assumed he wouldn’t either.

“I don’t want things to be weird,” he starts, “it was a lapse of judgment on my part.”

“Mingyu, please,” you whisper, “she’s ten feet away from us.”

“And I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he leads the cart so he’s walking beside you, towering over you like the skyscraper he was, “Coming on to you wasn’t the plan. Minhee respects you, cares about you. And why wouldn’t she? You’re amazing.”

You shirt under his words, dismissing it when you throw a family size bag of ruffle chips in the car. “Been wanting these.”

“I’m just sorry. I’ve clearly bothered you, disrespected you, and I didn’t intend for any of that.”

“Why are you saying this now,” you ask in a hushed tone, causing him to stop the wheels, “what are you even doing?”

He sighs, dropping his head in embarrassment, unsure either, but it seems as if he wanted to clear the tense air. You appreciated it. Most men that have done way more than what he did would’ve flat out ignored you regardless of the situation. Ghosting became a globalized norm. Mingyu’s confrontation, although stress-inducing, was somewhat refreshing. Different from previous men you’ve had relations with, platonic or not.

“Minhee is the most important thing in my life and you are someone very special to her, more than you know.”

You nod in agreement, understanding his sentiment. “She’s special to me. My best friend even.”

Mingyu sighs in relief. “So, we’ll forget what we had happened?”

“Forget what happened?” You grin in the end.

He smiles back, looking up as Minhee reunites with you and you feel as if things are back to normal. Minhee is still your closest friend. Mingyu is just her hot dad. And that’s it. That was that. You were fine thinking that for the rest of the summer.

The rest of the day was all leisure right up until the evening. As the light outside dimmed,  You and Minhee were getting ready to go out again. The attire was slightly more done up than the previous night, boosting your confidence. You added a dark shadow paired with tighter clothes and Minhee couldn’t help but gush at your appearance. Loving this girl was too easy. You trade her the same excitement and bounced together in the anticipation of another exciting night. 

You followed her downstairs, ready to leave, and Mingyu the last thing you see before you make your way to the door. “Have fun! Be safe.”

Leaving with a new life on lease, that seems to change when catch a glimpse at his face shutting the door. The darkness in his eyes, how they scan from up and down your body in a swift lick, burned in your memory. And you once again feel that feeting excitement he graced you once with.

You made good on your promise to the guys from the other night, and they were one of the first few faces you see as you enter. You join them, getting the free drinks they swore to give and experience more of the night life. Compared to the previous bar, this had been much more lively, rowdy, touchy. You made sure to be careful, carrying both your and Minhee’s drinks with hands hovering over their open lips. Minhee gathers her less than sober self to go to the restroom, insisting there's no need for you to come and that’d she’d be fine.

“Are you sure?” you ask in concern, and she repeats herself, pointedly shifting her eyes to the man behind you in mischief as she makes her escape.

Joshua meets your side similarly to last night, grinning that gorgeous grin, looking back at you with those pretty brown eyes, and large hands traveling over your body in a practiced-movement. “I was happy to see you came.”

“Oh?” you smile back, hands over his neck.

The small distance between you both leaves so little to the imagination and feeds some of that intimacy you’ve craved since coming to this part of town. You don’t look at him to know he wants you. From the way he cradles your sides, coming down‌ your shape, to how his hips lightly dip back to yours sensually, generously. You press up to his body in need, believing you want it too, but when you test your limits, you’re faced with reality.

The moment your lips meet, you hope to feel something–anything–but in the back of your mind a voice taunts you. It laughs back at you. Pressing the big red X button like it was broadcasted talent show.

It was a nice kiss. Somewhat decent, with nothing inherently wrong with it. But it didn't leave you wanting more.

‘He could never be him.’

You part from him abruptly and‌ in a few words of apology he understood, stepping back with a small smile. How you wish it could’ve been him. It would’ve been so much easier if it were him.

You go off to find Minhee, searching for her up and down. Going to the restroom couldn’t have taken that long, then there she was, dancing on the small stage right by the DJ. Everyone cheered for her as she did her performance, as did you, but it all came to a close as she tumbled right off, hitting the ground and landing on her side.

“Minhee!”

No limps were broken, no twisted ankle, or broken ribs, but drunk off her rocker, and it's proven true as you hear her slurring her words. You lightly slap sides of her face to gain back her consciousness. Not even seeing her flinch, you knew she was long gone.

“You probably get her back home safe in bed,” Jeonghan says stepping in.

You conceded, apologizing another time this night for things that should’ve been in your control. Mingyu was going to hate you for this, but you needed her home safe.

You wave at the male duo and a few other friends you made from the cab and tend to Minhee as she loses to sleep. You amble on to carry her weight back to the house, shuffling through her keys to reach past the door. Making too much noise and taking too long to find the right key, it open from teh other side, meeting Mingyu who stares back at you with startled eyes.

“What happened to her?”

There’s a calm fury in his voice, and guilt festers in the pit of your stomach. “Help, please. I’m sorry.”

He comes to Minhee’s other side, grumbling to himself as he helps guide her upstairs. She drops on her bed in heavy plop, her snores following. You both tiptoe towards the door and shut it quietly, not wanting to disturb her.

“Now, I repeat, what the hell happened?”

He had every right to be angry. You did this, you could’ve prevented this.

He lets you a deep exhale, quietly shouting his daughter's name in anguish. “Minhee, what the fuck?”

“She drank too much,” you admit, “She left to go to the restroom. I should’ve gone with her.”

“You think? You both could’ve gotten severely hurt, or worse.”

“Mingyu, I'm so sorry.”

He takes a moment of silence. “It’s not entirely your fault. Minhee overexerts herself sometimes. forces her to let loose twice as hard to make up for it. I wonder if I taught her that.”

“No, of course not. I'm her best friend. I should’ve kept an eye on her.”

“You were there to have fun, not babysit. Look, Minhee may be that right now but it’s because I couldn’t support her properly, because of me she has developed these unhealthy habits.” he sighs. “Though, after the divorce, I wonder if I was ever a good father.”

You tug at him in disbelief. “You’re a great dad! Minhee loves you so much. She talks about you all the time. “

His gaze softens, pulling lightly at his t-shirt, “She does?”

“Yes, like how you cook for her on sick days so that she recovers twice as fast. Or when she was little, she made a scrapbook out of the little lunch notes you made her. Or when you confronted her boyfriend at that picnic, getting in his face and yelling at him. Yeah, she was embarrassed, but she was more relieved that it got out there at all. You are the person she loves the most. You’re so amazing and sweet and kind…Mingyu, I don’t want to forget about yesterday.”

His eyes harden at your shift of tone. “Y/n, you promised–”

“Yeah, well, that was before yesterday when I didn’t think I had a chance with someone like you.”

You draw yourself closer to him, closing the gap, feeling him fall weak for a moment, reciprocating. His lips were plush and sweet as you hoped, stark in contrast to his firm torso you felt through his shirt. He pulls away, holding you at a distance.

“Y/n, we can’t—“

“I kissed someone tonight.”

He immediately tenses up, his hand overlapping around your wrist, speaking in a lethally soft voice. “What?”

“We danced, got super close, and we kissed.”

The moment you mention it, Mingyu immediately smells it. The dreaded cologne. He takes it in once again and grits his teeth in anger. Jealously quickly become a evil on his shoulder. “Same bastard?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, “but I wanted him to be you. I can't stop thinking ab—“

His lips fits over yours, his hand pressing into the arch of your back. He kisses you with so much carnal rage you can taste blood on your tongue and he launches you from the ground and around his waist. You dig your fingers into his scalp, kissing him deep, whimpers leaving your lips like a needy puppy.

“Not here,” he quickly states, before carrying you off to a room at the end of the hall. Fuck, was this a large house.

Once the door locks behind him, not bothering to turn on the lights in the almost pitch black of night, he takes your lips to feel his unadulterated power as he pins you to a wall. “Mingyu—“

“I’m not speaking to you, so you can forget about hearing a response.”

With much struggle, he pulls your panties out, or should you say tears it off of you as it drops tattered to the ground. That was fine. You can buy a million pieces of underwear, but there was only one Kim Mingyu. His pants fall abandoned on the ground, revealing his cock gloriously rock hard below you, looking even aesthetically beautiful with the moonlight peeking out from the window.

“You can speak now. Do you want me to fuck you, Y/n?” he asks menacingly, almost daring you to answer.

“Yes, Mingyu, please fuck me.”

He leverages you on the wall, fishing a condom out of a nearby drawer. Rolling it on, he lines it against your slit before he makes himself known. Your eyes roll back at the stretch, fingers digging into his shoulder as he bounces you on his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan.

“You’re so wet, s-shit.”

Mingyu throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 

When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”

His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrived from it, came to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.

He pays your climax no mind, pushing you off the wall and pushing you into the sheets face down. You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.

“You can look, but remember. Stay quiet. Got it?”

You nod back, obeying, biting into the duvet.

“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets.

His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the bed. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could've been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.

His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into the rubber. The moment he pulls out, it’s over. It’s truly over. You knew it’d happen that way but the pain didn’t feel any less real.

“Wash up and get to bed before Minhee sees.”

The door shuts and once again, you’re all alone.

In that shower, you sob, washing away the remaining grime, filth, guilt. And after everything that’s happened, you still hoped he’d fuck you like that again.

The next few days goes by and you don’t get that opportunity again. Instead, Minhee took up most of your days. You’d go to the market, watch movies, meet her friends and make them your own, grabbing take out and dinner reservations until you’ve scoured every part of town. And Mingyu, well, he’s staying on the sidelines, observing, never mentioning the your night of intimacy.

You hide it through smiles, good food, good company, but you dying on the inside, thinking to yourself how things got this way.

You missed his body, his warmth, his cock fucking you recklessly, not caring if he breaks you. The guilt you had once for betraying Minhee deteriorated over time, replaced with Mingyu, and just Mingyu.

That’s then you made an opportunity. You just need Minhee out. Calling up the friends you made in the area, you arranged a time and place she'd be for an extended time without you. Your reason for staying in: medical program information. You expected her to understand, and once you told her, you were proven right.

She left as soon as your mutual friend had arrived, waving you off as she entered the car. An unsuspecting smile on her face before she closes the car door. What she won’t know won’t hurt her.

Now was the moment to put it to action. You’d have it that Mingyu couldn’t run, couldn’t avoid you, couldn’t ignore you. And you only had a few minutes until he got back from his run.

Hastily, you slip out of your modest clothes before getting into a skimpy one, deliberately showing off your assets. You take your place on the couch to wait, using channel surfing as a way to pass time.

Hearing the sound footsteps coming up the front door made your heart race, immediately going to position yourself at the entrance. When Mingyu opens to see you on the other side, he could hear his heart drop at your ensemble. His eyes fell immediately at every tiny piece of clothing barely covering you body, feeling his member harder quickly. He quickly shuts the door before anyone else can see what he’s forced to and glares at you. “What is this?”

“Welcome home, Mr. Kim.” you answer cheekily. 

“Ming—where’s Minhee?” He shoulders past you, getting to the kitchen to get a drink.

“Out,” you answer, bouncing behind him shamelessly, “I told her I had something to do while she’s gone so I could stay behind.”

“Do what,” he grits, slamming the plastic bottle on the counter, “lie to her, do something that might hurt her behind her back?”

It stings, it really did, but you lacked more morals than you realized.

“It was the only way I could get you alone.” you step in front of him, twiddling your fingers.

“What is it you want, Y/n? Haven’t you done enough to me?”

You blink at him knowingly, thinking how dare he could play a victim. “You know better than anyone that it was a two-person job. We both wanted it.”

He rolls his eyes, annoyed, “Well, it was a mistake, and I should’ve quit while I was ahead.”

“I want more, Mingyu.”

He squeezed his eyes tight, slamming the empty bottle to the floor before responding, “Why are you being like this? What is wrong with you?”

He’s angry and rightfully so, but you wanted him, so badly you’d fight for it. No one–not even Minhee–at this point could stop you.

You latch on to him, not missing his lips. You pull yourself against his sweaty, musky form until you can feel the outline of his body on yours. He forces himself to pull away with a rough tug. There’s a moment of bizarreness on his face before giving in and reconnecting your lips, furiously kissing you as he places you on the kitchen counter. His tongue is quick to find yours and pulling your top over your breasts to play with them, squeezing them harshly in his hand before tweaking your stiff peaks between his fingers.

“Mmh, daddy…please, please fuck me.”

Mingyu pauses, returning twice as rough, pressing into the sopping core that seeps out your shorts, eliciting a whine from your end. The waistband of his sweats grinds into you like he’s a machine: starved, automated, merciless. 

“You want me to fuck that bad? Hmm?” He tucks your legs around him, digging in you deeper, slapping the skin of your thigh that reached your ass. “You’re gonna be a good‌ for me to use? Let me fill you up with my cock?”

“Yes, I want your cock fucking me, please,” you plead in a high-pitched voice.

“Fine. This time and never again.” he lifts you off the counter and takes you to his room. Dumping you in bed, he pulls his muscle tank off and rips off your shorts from your body.

Right then and there, he claims the heat between your legs after spitting right into the center. He devours you, jaw gripping from the underside of your folds as his tongue runs rampant in your core. His face is damp in the matter of seconds, but your nectar is all he can think about as he fists his erection through his sweatpants.

“Daddy, your mouth is so good…you’re eating me so good.”

A hand comes on the skin of your thigh again, coming as both a warning and encouragement. He gets lost in you, inhaling you, falling weak at you. He swore he never would again. He’s already done enough thinking about you from that one picnic. The way your hair bounces in the light or how your clothes hug your body as a gust of wind blows past you. You radiated such light in stark contrast to the weak, needy beauty before him. It was on so many levels wrong, but he pointed it to all factors of being sex deprived. Of course, it was normal to find a younger attractive woman sexy. She was an adult, but wasted on him finding out how closely you work with his kid, the kids he loves so much and would kill for. 

But you. God, damn it, you. He wanted you just for a second and he took it, only for you to come back wanting more. A mirror image of himself. Unlike his initial findings, he has more in common with you than he thought.

“I’m close daddy!”

His tongue runs faster, harder, feeling the taste of your core go from one taste to another, feeling the cum coat his mouth like liquid gold. With a last jerk to your legs, he moves over to tower at you, prying your mouth open and dropping your fluid in your mouth, seeing it seep out of the corner of your lips before kissing you. He drags the taste around, gripping you by the chin, grunting in your mouth.

He kicks off his sweats, pulling you up by the arm, and allows you to straddle his lap. His cock prods at your stomach, flicking back at the soft section of your stomach. You run your fingers through hair, hovering on top of him, mere atoms away from putting him in you. You had the mind to ask breathlessly, “Condom?”

“I’d have to get up.”

A quick moment of panic runs through your mind. “I’m clean, but–”

“I’ll pull out. And cum anywhere else.”

You take a hard gulp, but give a definite nod. Not letting go of his embrace, allow the round tip to slide over your wet slit–sweet mewls leaving your lips–before you let your walls hug around his raw girth. Initially frightening, given that you weren’t willing to take this kind of risk before–you were a med student and staying safe and clean was rule one–but every inch cover around your walls stretches euphorically. 

You let out an anguished moan adjusting to his size, but with how wet you are, it wouldn’t be a problem for long. You roll your hips down, taking him all of him, incomprehensive mumbles leaving your lips while taking strikes against your ass, stinging with every touch. “Being such a good girl for me, letting me fuck you…”

He squeezes the flesh of your cheek, teeth pulling on the bottom of your lip. “It’s my pleasure, daddy…”

God, you loved it, every second. 

Minutes passed and he’s only pushed harder, plunge deeper, filling in that crevice of yours until you’re spent all over his bed. He bruises you, bites you, swelling your skin. He finally let go of all the inhibitions that once held him back. That’s when he gets close, cursing under his breath. You fall back on the bed as he pulls out, thick white ribbons shooting thin in the air to cascade over your face and chest, even on your tongue. He pants hard, unable to tear away from the decadent view he’s witnessing. You are usually lovely beyond compare, but you were absolutely breath-taking adorned by his cum.

He had to have more of you.

Although he told himself it’d be the last, that was far from the truth. Since that day, he took every opportunity to have you and without a word of defiance against you. You had your days with Minhee: breakfast, brunch, lunch, sometimes dinner. But he had you at nights, or at days the house was empty. He made it last. All of it. All of you.

Eventually, as school started up again, you’d have to leave, and he gave you one last moment in the shower to commemorate it, putting an end to this summer fling. 

Despite missing Mingyu, you were excited to get back on track. You set your back in your newly leased apartment, smiling back at the memories you’ve made in the time you were away. As you were putting away the last of the things from your disgustingly big sack, your phone goes off, Minhee’s name brightly lit on the screen.

“Hey, Minhee. I just got in,” you greet grinning.

“Aw, that’s good. I think you left something behind, though.”

“Shoot,” You shuffle through your belongings, trying to think what that thing could be. “What did I leave?”

“Hard to tell, I think it’s…the truth?”

Your eyes shoot open at the sudden hostility in her voice. “Minhee, I—“

“Are you fucking my dad, you bitch?”

18+ minors dni, f!reader

ex bf!fuckbuddy!wonwoo who's the reason you can't get into a new relationship :c every time you start seeing someone new, it isn't long before he’s hitting you up

he'll ask you to hop on discord and play a video game together, his long legs spread as he sits in his desk chair, the bright monitor reflected in his glasses. you get on your pc and call him, kicking yourself when you feel heat pooling in your tummy when his deep voice comes through your headphones

you always tell yourself the next time will be different, but every time your game ends up forgotten, your conversation going in a different direction. it's usually wonwoo's fault, saying something like, "your voice sounds really cute", "wish you were here, haven't seen you in a while"

he had seen your recent instagram post, a cute blurry candid of you and your new bf kissing. it affected him more than he expected, but that was always the case when he saw that you started dating someone new

it's so frustrating because he broke up with you, and now he would take advantage of the hope you held deep down of him being ready for a relationship someday, luring you back to him each time you got with somebody else

"wonwoo.. you can't seriously be jealous"

"of course i'm not, i just feel like we should talk, that's all"

he would offer to uber you to his apartment, and that foolish hope you held would make you accept, even if it was 2am. each time you stupidly convinced yourself that this could be it, this could be the time he's finally ready to make the commitment, but the only thing he's committed to is making sure that his cock is the only one you take

he would talk to you so sweetly once you got to his place, "how are you so pretty, baby?", "i missed you", "don't want you to be anyone else's girl", but it's all just a means to fuck

he fucks you so hard and deep on his bed, he had almost forgotten how warm and tight you were, and how cute you sounded when you whined and panted beneath him. his eyes flutter shut and his head rolls back at the feeling when he pushes his tip through your slick and puffy lips, trying not to ram the entirety of his long cock inside you all at once

you can't control the way your hips wiggle and buck up to try and feel him deeper in your cunt. the combination of guilt and desperation causes tears to roll down your flushed cheeks, thoughts of your boyfriend literally being fucked out of your mind when wonwoo's thrusts grow faster, his long fingers gripping your hips so tight while the other hand is on the bed beside your head to prop himself up, gritting his teeth at the feeling of you squeezing him

"you haven't fucked him yet, have you, baby? feels like you're molded to my cock"

your orgasm pulses through your tight cunt, squeezing wonwoo’s thick cock so nicely, bringing him to pull out and spurt his warm cum on your tummy. he takes a second to catch his breath, panting into the crook of your neck, one of his big hands rubbing and squeezing the flesh of your thigh

when he leaves the room to get a towel to clean you up, you throw your arm out and grab around for your phone, sniffling and wiping your tear stained cheeks as you text your bf that it’s over between you

Hotel Voluptas: Check(ed) In (You)

voluptas (latin; noun): pleasure, satisfaction, delight

pairing: idol!Mingyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to lovers!AU (sorta) - minors dni.

warnings: hotel sex, oral (both receiving) protected sex, mean dom!mingyu, degradation, mild jealousy (reader is a carat and her bias ain't gyu lmao), spanking, rough sex, multiple orgasms and positions, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, dirty talk, use of petnames, mentions of threesome, mentions of panic attack (it's not actually happening dw)

word count: 4k

summary: you're just a regular tourist in Seoul who visits a regular hotel to spend your nights. except the hotel isn't your regular one - let alone its patrons and needs.

Author's note: this is an altered version of a mingyu dream i had a few nights ago msdnfsmnfs thank you to @playmetheclassics for coming up with the title and @idyllic-ghost for beta-reading this fic 💕

nsfw taglist: @rosecult​​ @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17 @lovelyhan @luvv4svt @novalpha @wonderfulshinee @foxinnie8 @sstarrysshit @threedalla @enhacolor @seuomo @spk93 @snoozeagustd @strawberryya

unable to tag: @kkakkameori @patisseriam @0717luv @coachukaishairband

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Good evening, sir Lee. The usual?” 

“You know me, Hyun,” the man clad in total black clothing whips out his credit card to slide over the machine, the familiar sound of the accepted payment ringing like music to his ears.

“We’re all good! Here’s your key, sir.” The receptionist hands over the key to the unknown man and the latter heads off with a slight nod. A couple of bills is all he leaves behind for the receptionist - a thank you gift for his continuous discretion.

Lee Saejin. That was the registered name for the room reservation.

But it’s obviously a fake name - besides, nobody would really care if a random guy was staying over in a hotel surrounded by oddly well-kept rumors. 

But the idol Kim Mingyu spending his nights off in this hotel, sleeping in the arms of a different person every time he visits? Press scandal worthy, to say the least.

So he settles with a silly fake name and escapes through the danger exit doors - not that he minds, when he gets much needed sexual relief after hellish weeks of tight-packed schedules.

All of the stressful thoughts are discarded once he steps into the room and he’s met with a gorgeous lady, sipping on what seems to be expensive champagne.

“Hey there,” Mingyu greets the woman as he discards his coat and takes the hem of his shirt to remove it.

“Let me do the dirty work, mister,” she gets up and holds his wrists, gently peeling them off the fabric so she can take it off herself, “Can’t have you doing more work than you already do, right?”

“As if you haven’t been working your pretty ass off, sweetheart,” he smirks and pulls her flush to his body, his hands kneading her ass over the silky dress.

“I think we should do less talking-”

“And more fucking?” 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Ugh, why is it so hard to find a decent hotel at a decent price?!”

You want to slam your laptop on the table and crush it into tiny pieces. You have one chance to go to South Korea and the only thing that’s stopping you is finding a damn hotel to stay in.

It’s either an over-the-top super expensive hotel that you need to sell both of your kidneys to afford a couple of nights or it’s a very dingy motel in a suspicious neighborhood.

“No….Not this one….Definitely not this one….Not this one either….”

Suddenly your eyes fall on a neat-looking hotel, with a very good score in reviews.

“Oh? Perhaps?” You scroll through the pictures of the site, the hotel rooms looking exactly like what you’ve been looking for - it almost feels like it’s too good to be true.

You check out the reviews and a few giggles escape from your lips while reading them.

“You will not regret staying in this hotel ;)”

“10/10 would go visit again, spent the best nights of my LIFE”

“you’ll literally spot celebrities in there I’M NOT FUCKING KIDDING”

“Celebrities? Wow, people have a lot of humor,” you chuckle, “But it’s a pretty good hotel - Got nothing to lose, right?”

You don’t hesitate to book a room with a double bed (a girl just wants to lay like a starfish) and pay with your credit card, the booking confirmation arriving in your mail inbox shortly after. You proceed to book your flight tickets with a beaming smile on your face, excitement coursing through your entire body in the forms of jitters.

I’m gonna have so much fun.

You feel like you were put in the blender and got splattered on the floor.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t traveled by plane in a long time, maybe it was the duration of the flight, or a combination of the two - either way, you just wanted to faceplant in the mattress of the hotel bed.

You feel very grateful to the taxi driver who offered to carry your suitcase until the entrance of the hotel. You thank him for the ride and hand over the corresponding amount of money, bidding him farewell.

You walk through the glass doors of the hotel and you suddenly feel very much awake.

The whole place feels so luxurious yet not intimidating, as if it’s calling you to explore its deepest parts. You look around you and see people waiting at the lobby, the majority of them wearing face masks and you feel conscious for not wearing one.

You timidly approach the reception counter, dragging your suitcase behind you. You ring the bell on the marble counter and wait for someone to appear.

“Good evening, miss. What can I do for you?” The receptionist appears and you’re blown away from how dashing he looks.

“Um, hello, I’ve booked a room under the name Y/N L/N? I-It’s one with a-”

“A double bed, yes, I am aware,” the man chuckles, “It’s not like we have single beds in this hotel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said that the rooms in our hotel do not have single beds.”

You blink twice. Is he serious right now?

“Um,” you scratch your cheek, “May I ask why?”

“Miss Y/N, are you aware of the services we provide here?”

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t this just a regular hotel where people spend a few nights to rest after visiting Seoul?” 

He takes a quick glance left and right and moves his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion and you inch closer, purely out of curiosity.

“Do you see all those people waiting here?” 

You nod in agreement.

“They wear facial masks because they don’t want to be recognized in public.”

Your eyes go wide and your brain recalls all of the reviews you read online - they were fucking true.

“Are you saying that they come here to fuck?!”

“Shhh! Don’t be so loud!” he shushes you in a panic, “But yeah, that’s what they’re here for -  that’s what this hotel is for, technically.”

Just your fucking luck.

“There was none of that crap on the website!” You whisper in a state of panic.

“What did you expect, miss? To write ‘hello we have rooms for you to fuck your brains out with other people’?” He deadpans with a straight face.

“Okay fine, you have a point,” you huff in annoyance, “But isn’t that, like….Illegal?”

“Illegal? Oh no no, there are no sex workers here, only people of high social profile who want to have a good time,” he clarifies, “We’re just the confidential party who run this hotel.”

“So, um..” you trail off, “Does that mean I’m obligated to share a room with someone here?”

“Of course not! You did book a room for one person, after all.”

“Okay….” you answer and think for a while, but your thoughts are as clear as a cobweb.

“You can call me Hyunjin, by the way.” The receptionist introduces himself after a long time.

You give him a quick smile and go back to the ordeal of putting your thoughts in a coherent order.

“Hey, Hyunjin?”

“Yes?”

“Do idols come here too?” 

The man licks his lips before smirking.

“I am not allowed to disclose such information, my dear.”

“So they do,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Again, I am not allowed to disclose such information.”

“Fine, I’ll find out for myself, then.” You muster up your confidence.

“Excellent,” Hyunjin smiles and pulls out a piece of paper and a tablet, “Want me to hand you over a pen?”

“Yes please,” you answer without lifting your head from the papers you’re reading, quickly realizing it is indeed, a NDA. Of course they would have those.

You carefully check all of the pages (including the footnotes) and you sign the NDA without a fuss, Hyunjin’s signature following right after.

“What’s that for?” You look at the bright screen, filled with a list of names and X marks.

“This is where we store the information of our regular clients and the rooms they usually stay in,” he explains, “The X marks next to the names you see indicate that these people are already with someone…If you get what I mean. Also, there are the gender symbols to indicate...well, their gender.”

A notification comes up in your phone and you slide it out of your pocket, mumbling a quick sorry to Hyunjin, so you can text your friend back that you made it safely to Seoul. The man takes a quick glance at your phone case, pursing his lips tight.

“Okay, where were we? The clients, right?”

“Yes. That is, if you want to try meeting one of them - You can always keep your reservation as it is and quietly spend your nights here on your double bed.”

“Well,” you bite your bottom lip, “I’m a single girl in Seoul to have fun, might as well get laid with someone hot, right?” You tilt your head in a cheeky way.

“As you wish, miss - Have you decided on who you’re gonna pick?”

“Hmm, let’s see…” 

You carefully check the list with all the unmatched names and your eyes fixate on the name Lee Saejin.

“This one.”

Now it’s Hyunjin’s turn to be surprised, but he’s only allowed to nod and do the reservations.

“You just had a really weird expression on your face.”

“Who, me? Nope, definitely not!” He defends himself while trying to put down the necessary information to complete the process.

“What’s wrong with the name I picked?”

“Nothing at all,” he bites back a smile, “On the contrary, you picked a really good one.”

“Okay….” you side eye him, “Can I go now?”

“You’re too eager for someone who looked like splattered jam on the floor not too long ago.” He hands you over the card key for the room.

“You’re one peculiar receptionist,” you take the key and drag your suitcase on the smooth floor.

“Hope you enjoy your stay in Hotel Voluptas, miss!” Hyunjin yells before you disappear behind the elevator doors, which earns him a few irritated glares from other guests. He clears his throat and absentmindedly smooths over his hair and clothes, going back to his business

“Hoo boy, she’s in for a real treat.”

You feel like a lunatic.

If anyone else was in your shoes, they would have run the fuck out of this place and take the first flight back home. 

But you feel excited. Almost ecstatic.

You never thought the reviews/rumors you had heard about Hotel Voluptas were actually true but now that you’re one step away from finding out who Lee Saejin truly is.

You take a deep breath before opening the door and check underneath your shirt to make sure you’re wearing a pretty lingerie set - just in case, you know.

You slide the card key over the electronic lock and the door opens. You enter the room and you quickly realize there’s nobody inside.

“Huh? That’s weird,” you close the door behind you and set your suitcase next to the wardrobe. You take a look around the room, noticing how neat and pristine it looks. You sit on the bed and touch the sheets, your palm gliding over the silk.

“Damn, that’s real luxury right here.” You let out a low whistle.

“You should see the jacuzzi, that’s peak luxury.”

The unknown voice scares you so much you end up falling down on the carpeted floor with a thud.

“Ouch…”

“Shit, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” The stranger bends down to help you stand on your feet, your ass slightly stinging from the sudden impact.

“Yeah, I think so-” you raise your head and look at his face, any coherent sentence dying down in your throat and any rational thought disappearing from your brain.

The man standing in front of you - the half naked man - is Kim Mingyu.

Kim fucking Mingyu of Seventeen.

You cover your mouth in shock, sitting on the bed to realize what the fuck is going on.

“You must be Y/N, right?” Mingyu speaks.

“No, I’m not.”

“What? But I’m sure Hyunjin sent me the correct info…”

“Wait, my info?!”

“Um, yeah. For the NDA, y’know?”

“Oh. Right.”

You don’t know if you want to jump out of the window or jump his bones right this instant.

“I know this is sudden, but that’s how things work in here,” he flashes his signature smile, his perfectly white canines shining brighter than your future.

“Is this even real?”

“You can always touch me, y’know?”

“NO!”

“No?”

“Wait, I mean yeah- Shit, I-”

“Do you need some time alone? I’m kind of worried right now,” Mingyu admits with a nervous look, “I don’t want you to panic right now.”

“I just- Hyunjin did tell me that celebrities come here, but I didn’t expect to see YOU of all people!” You admit with a wheeze.

“I mean, I am a guy with sexual needs as well.” He lets out a chuckle.

“But you were supposed to be at your dorms and resting!”

“Says who?”

“The news channel live…..You left the airport with the members in the cars….So I assumed you….” You trail off, your voice getting quieter.

“So you’re a fan, huh,” he smirks, “That makes it even better.”

“Y-Yeah, hence the shock….”

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

“Oh, so now you’re gonna pull the shit you do at fansigns, huh?” Your demeanor changes as you sit up on the bed.

“Is it working?” He towers over you, adjusting the towel around his waist, your eyes zoning on the water droplets cascading from his beefy chest all the way down to his v-line.

“Maybe.” You admit and you feel your cheeks flaring up as he climbs on the bed, his body frame hovering above yours.

“Good, that means my game is still going strong.”

“Or your fans are way too whipped for you.”

“You’re not a gyuldaengie?”

Fuck, wrong move.

“Who is it, darling?”

“Not telling you.” You challenge him.

“No need to tell me, I already know either way.” He grins like an imp as he stretches his arm to pick up your phone from the floor.

“Wonwoo hyung, huh?”

“Hey, give that back!” You try to take the phone back, but he pins your wrists above your head with his hand.

“You wish he was here instead of me?”

“And what about it?”

“Too bad he’s a fucking loser who does gaming lives for his fans.”

“Shut up, I love those!”

“Of course you do - It’s just that fucking pretty girls like you is way more fun, don’t you think?”

You let out a shaky breath at his words -  Kim Mingyu just called you pretty and it has you melting on the spot.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks you with a whisper.

“Please.”

It’s all Mingyu needs to put his lips on yours, his hands now perched on your clothed body, fingers dancing dangerously around the hem of your shirt.

“Just take it off already!” You squirm underneath him.

“So demanding, tsk…” He takes off your shirt and unbuttons your jeans, leaving you only in your lingerie.

“Demanding yet dressed for the occasion, I see.”

“It was coincidental!” You defend yourself, “I just like wearing pretty underwear, is that bad?”

“Not at all, darling,” he licks his bottom lip, “I always appreciate pretty things on pretty people.”

He presses a chaste kiss on the column on your neck, and another one on your collarbone, and a lot more scattered over your chest and abdomen, paying extra attention to your lower stomach, just above the hem of your thong.

“G-Gyu-”

“Oh so we’re on a nickname basis now?” Mingyu hooks his fingers on the thin elastic band and slides it down your legs, letting out a whistle when he spreads your thighs all the way to your hip bones.

“Not that I mind you calling me Gyu, obviously.”

“You’re so insufferable, oh my God, just lic- AH!”

You moan out loud when he parts your lower lips with his thumbs and starts sucking on your clit. 

You thread your hands in his silky black hair, pulling it each time he presses his tongue a bit harder on the spots that make you squirm beneath him. 

You always knew Mingyu had very attractive lips, but feeling them making out with your pussy in such a sloppy manner makes your head spin.

You let out a particularly loud moan when you feel his thumb stretch your hole, all while he spits on your clit just to lick it even harder than before, followed by a particularly harsh suck.

“Fuck!” Your thighs squirm and almost close around his head, but he keeps them open with his arms, his chocolate eyes staring at you.

“You’re really squirmish, aren’t you?”

“It’s not my fault-”

“That I’m eating your pussy so good you don’t want me to stop?”

God, you really want to slap him. But he’s right.

“Aren’t you going to say anything, darling?”

“You stopped eating my pussy.”

Mingyu clicks his tongue in annoyance and flips you around, lifts your ass and goes back to eat you out like a starved animal. 

“Oh my- Fuck, it feels so fucking good, Gyu!”

“Oh yeah? Would Wonwoo hyung eat you like this?” He smacks your ass.

“Mmmfh-”

“Answer me, pretty girl.” He smacks your ass again, a bit harder this time.

“I won’t fucking tell you!”

“Bratty little bitch,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance and gets up from his place, circling the bed to stand in front of you, finally dropping his towel.

Big would be too little of a word to describe what hangs between his legs.

You gulp audibly, mouth salivating at the sight of his deliciously thick cock, your insides jolting at the thought of his length splitting you in half.

“What, you see a nice dick and turn all dumb and drooly?” He pumps his cock with his fist right in front of your face.

You crawl a bit closer to him and slap his hand away to wrap your lips around the fat tip, pushing his cock deeper in your mouth. 

“You’re so much more eager than I thought, sweetheart,” Mingyu groans and puts his hand deep in your hair, “Would you suck Wonwoo’s cock like that too, darling?”

“I’d suck it harder,” you take out his cock and stroke it with your hand, a shit-eating grin on your face, “Does that answer your question?”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue and slaps your cheek with his cock twice before he’s pushing you on your back again.

“Well too bad he’s not here now.” He opens one of the nightstand drawers and pulls out a condom, ripping the packaging with his teeth to roll the latex over his cock.

He climbs on the bed again and throws your legs on his shoulders, tapping his dick on your slicked cunt a few times.

“I’ll just fuck you to oblivion instead.”

“Now I know why everyone calls you an overgrown puppy,” you giggle, “You’re all bark and no bite, Gyu.”

Your lips morph into an ‘O’ shape when Mingyu slams his dick inside you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“I’ve had enough of you running your mouth all evening,” he grits his teeth and tugs your bra down, letting your breasts out of the lace, “For someone who was so shocked to find out that people fuck in this place, you’re awfully bratty.”

“Then fuck the attitude out of me, big guy,” you taunt him, “Just like you’ve been boasting all evening.”

“With pleasure.”

Mingyu folds you in half and starts drilling his cock in your pussy with a newfound hunger, all the exhaustion he had accumulated from the flight gone in the blink of an eye.

“Your pussy is so fucking good, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” He moans and gropes your tits, his big hands squeezing the soft flesh.

“Your cock fucks me so good, Gyu, you’re so good to me, fuck!” You grip the sheets, nails digging into the silk.

“Oh yeah? Dick so good you’re not thinking about that bias of yours anymore?”

Your pussy clenches around his shaft, Mingyu’s eyes turning hooded.

"You greedy little slut," he juts his hips a bit more forcefully, "You would love to fuck Wonwoo, wouldn't you?"

Yes, you definitely would - you can't even bring yourself to count the times you've thirsted over the cat-like man in glasses for the most dumb reasons.

"Of course a pretty slut like you cannot be satisfied with one dick," he speeds up his thrusts, "Need something to fill your bratty mouth with, right?"

"F-Fuck, yes!" You cry out, thighs starting to tense on his shoulders.

"Maybe I should take a picture of you sucking my dick like a lolly and send it to hyung," he taunts you, "Show him what his fans are actually doing in their free time."

"Shit, Gyu!" You scream Mingyu's name and your back arches off the mattress as you cum around his cock, giving him the green light to fuck you through your orgasm, while he chases his own.

It doesn't take him long to tip off the edge and reach his own climax, filling up the condom with his cum. He quickly discards the soiled latex in the trash bin under the nightstand and lays right next to you, a wicked smile playing on his face.

"Why are you smiling like th- Oof!" You gasp when he pulls you flush to his chest and throws your leg over his hip, burying two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt.

He rapidly fucks his digits in your spent hole as he grinds his palm on your clit, trying to force one more orgasm out of your body.

And he does.

He watches your body shake harder than before and you squirt all over his hand and thighs, eyes nearly rolling at the back of your skull from the intensity of your orgasm.

He pulls out his fingers and licks them clean with his mouth, letting them go with a lewd sound. 

"W-What….was that for?" You pant.

"For good measure." He grins.

"....Manwhore." You curse under your breath and Mingyu lands a smack on your pussy, making you yelp from the impact.

"Says the girl who wants to fuck two idols of the same group."

"And what about it?! A girl can always 

dream!" You protest.

"Some dreams can become a reality," he says, "That is, if you ask the right people."

"You're not actually thinking of sending him a post-sex image, are you?!"

"Are you crazy? Of course not, that NDA has my signature too, missy," he deadpans, "I just said that to rile you up."

"Of course you did." You roll your eyes at him.

"So….how long are you staying in Seoul?"

"A week," you reply, "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking…." Mingyu trails one finger on your collarbone.

"Yes?"

"If I convince that loser of a hyung I have as my roommate to get out of his gaming chair, maybe you'll get to live your dirty little fantasy."

"Are you- Is this a joke? Because if you're fucking with me, you better drop it."

"I'm 100% serious, love," he dips his finger on the valley of your breasts, "As long as everyone consents to it, I'm down to share. If you behave as well, of course."

You don't hesitate to nod affirmatively and climb on top of him, giving him a passionate kiss as a thank you.

"There's something you need to know though." 

"What is it, darling?"

"I have an IUD and I'm clean, got checked last month."

Mingyu blinks twice and purses his lips in a thin line.

"You better prepare yourself for next time, sweetheart," he grips your ass, "And don't worry about our little playdate getting out of here." He presses a kiss on your neck.

"What happens in Hotel Voluptas, stays in Hotel Voluptas."

easy (r.fantasies)

tw // insecure reader, johnny taking advantage of your low self esteem, idk what else to tag this he’s a douchebag

johnny likes them insecure. easy is what he really wants to say, because it’s so easy to get between your legs that he finds it laughable. he’s no amateur to this little hunt - you aren’t the first, you know that. a man like johnny had to have tons of women bearing their hearts and bodies to him, and he did. but you damn sure aren’t the last, and this bit you naively fail to realize.

he spots you at a cafe. what can he say - he knows where to scout them. not frat parties or crowded outings unless your far more poised, assertive friends dragged you out or you were searching for validation. he’s met a couple of women like that at his friend’s parties, but girls like you aren’t party animals, you’re too inhibited to truly let loose. you’re sitting at a booth and he decides to press his luck a little, sliding across from you. apologizes for startling you when you jolt, glancing up from your phone. the first thing you notice is that he’s mind-numbingly handsome with the cutest smile that you can’t help but match, telling him it’s okay.

johnny asks if you mind if he sits here while he waits for his coffee, and though you don’t fail to notice the handful of available spots he could have opted to sit at, you don’t shoo him away. he’s super cute, after all. you don’t want to get too carried away, it’s not like a guy this good-looking could ever be attracted to you, but your friends have been nagging you to go out and meet a boy.

you don’t have the confidence. you’d rather a boy go out and meet you.

johnny can’t help but start up a lighthearted conversation with you, flirting a bit here and there, and it’s only five minutes into talking that he decides you’re the epitome of a perfect candidate. he loves the way you can’t hold eye contact for too long, you can’t challenge his stare. he loves how you have a habit of covering your mouth when you laugh, probably embarrassed of your smile. by the time they call his name with his order, he already has your number and knows a couple of worthless facts about you, but he won’t be getting rid of them so soon. they’ll come in hand quickly.

he chats with you a little longer, maybe fifteen minutes, just for fun. not that he needed all that time, he already got what he wanted and asked you on a date. of course, you said yes. you didn’t ask when or what time, much to his amusement. you told him, yes. your plans be damned if you had any, all for the sake of a stranger just because he entertains you and he’s handsome, or you don’t have any plans, which makes it worse because he hasn’t told you when yet. he’s also sure to ask where you attend school and is relieved to know it’s not on his campus. it’s not that johnny’s afraid of facing you when he ultimately disposes of you like trash, it’s just too much drama. he’d rather avoid it.

you’re giggly when he leaves, in disbelief that a man like that even gave you a second thought. you can’t wait to tell your friends, but at the same time, you’re so jittery. you have a date with a guy and you don’t even have any date-worthy outfits. plus what if he talks to you and thinks you’re immensely uninteresting? what if he changes his mind and stands you up or something? there’s so much to fret over.

but johnny arrives punctually at your house at seven, just like you agreed. you’re a bit nervous to reveal yourself, wondering if you put on too little makeup or too much, musing on whether or not you did this dress justice, but then johnny’s knocking at your door. he falls silent for a second when he sees you and your first thought is that that’s a bad reaction, but then he follows it up with a comment about how beautiful you are and warmth fills your cheeks. you can’t help but make a comment back about how handsome he is, which he accepts with a thanks and offers you his hand, leading you out the driveway.

johnny thinks you’re a little stupid for giving him your address on the first date, but it’s okay. it’s not like he has any intention of seeing you beyond the point where he eventually gets bored of you.

the date goes well in your opinion. johnny even got you a gift, a necklace with two cats on it after you mentioned in passing that you were a lover of felines. helps you put it on, sits back down and lets out a comment about how beautiful it looks on you, and you can’t help but think he must really like you, that’s he’s such a great guy. he’s so funny, makes you laugh more than you thought possible. you make a couple of self-deprecating jokes, much to his chagrin, but your humor isn’t bad outside of that. johnny thinks he might tolerate you a pinch longer than he does some of the others. you’re really sold when he tells you a funny story and he tells you very sternly to stop covering your mouth when you laugh, you have the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen and he wants to see it more often.

then he convinces you to come back to his place, and honestly, it doesn’t take really any convincing. it’s predictable what happens, he can’t wait to get you into his sheets, but he’s calculated and patient about it. you’re the shyiest thing ever and he’s not surprised to hear you sheepishly admit that you’re a virgin. you don’t know how much that turns him on, being your first, but he hides it so well. his reaction is less horrifying than you expect, he’s so nonchalant that you feel weird for making a big deal about it. as if you don’t have virgin written all over you, he thinks amusedly.

you’re shy, when he unzips your dress, feeling so naked as he stares at your bare body. and to be fair, you are. you’re shy when your bra comes off, covering your tits with your hands, only for him to place them above your head and suck them into his mouth. you’re shy when he dips his head between your thighs and exposes your bare cunt (you didn’t shave, you didn’t think he’d want to fuck you), only for him to spread your legs apart and tell you that you have such a pretty pussy. but you’re just needy when he grabs a condom (johnny’s a lot of things, but he’s not reckless about who he puts his dna into) and steers his cock to your cunt. needy when he slowly buries himself to the hilt, needy when he tells you that he loves how tight you wrap around him, needy when he grunts your name in your ear and says that he could fuck you forever.

you just comply with everything he wants, moan his name when he tells you to. so submissive, so meek. he loves it that way. it’s a shame that you’re so unkind to yourself, because johnny does actually find you attractive. you should give yourself a chance, but he doesn’t care to tell you that. especially because if you knew how much you were worth, you wouldn’t be with him.

a couple more dates and you’re officially together. it’s so fun to johnny, pure entertainment if nothing else. when he calls, you drop everything and come to him. whenever he wants a favor, you do it without a second thought. it’s the least you can do when he makes you feel so wanted, so accepted. you think nothing of it when he asks you to go on birth control, because he hates the barrier and so badly wants to feel your bare pussy clamp around his dick. wants to turn you into his cumdump, and you gladly mold into whoever he wants you to be. no self-esteem. your sense of self worth relies entirely upon him. so pathetic, he thinks, but never says. it’s almost… cute.

“johnny,” you whisper one night while he’s stuffed between your legs. “i love you.”

“love you, too,” he lies in the heat of the moment, knowing that he never has and never will, that some day he’ll have to break your heart just like he broke everybody else’s, but it’s your fault for being so easy.

tags: vampire! seventeen x human reader, 18+, mdni, dubcon, mind control, oral (m receiving), mentions of a gangbang, hardcore humiliation and degradation (verbal and physical)

seungcheol’s hand twists around your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to pull you off his cock. ‘stick your tongue out for me’ he cooes. you feel quick steady taps against your wet tongue and immediately you can tell it’s not his cock anymore. who is it today?

you don’t have time to dwell on that thought as seungcheol shoves your head forward, the cock sliding into your mouth as you hear a low satisfied groan. this man, whoever he was, was much more unforgiving than seungcheol, and you can feel it in the way he uses your mouth — like it’s not attached to the rest of you.

it’s not long before you feel your jaw ache and you start slacking, barely putting in any effort into pleasuring him.

‘tch, is this how we treat our guests? i know you can do better than that’ seungcheol chides, disappointed in you.

you hear the man zip up before he bends down, now eye-level with you. ‘open your mouth’ he speaks with an unexpected low drawl that makes your toes curl. he pushes his thumb inside your mouth, the coldness of it making you shiver, and the shiver making your nipples hard. faintly, you hear someone laugh. the man goes deeper, probing further and further until you finally gag.

‘are you tired?’ he questions and you shake your head no. ‘it’s okay if you are’ something tells you not to admit to that.

‘i’m not tired’ you say aloud, immediately regretting it, and a second later feel a sharp sting across your face ‘i don’t remember giving you permission to speak to me’

‘wonwoo, you’re scaring her’ you hear someone hum and you freeze, your blood curdling. he’s here again.

‘am i?’ icy fingers grip onto your blindfold, yanking them off as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness, and when his silhouette becomes sharper you almost gasp — inches away from you is one of the most beautiful vampires you’ve ever seen. it’s blinding beauty and it feels like if you look at him too long you’ll lose your mind; so you drop your gaze to the floor.

‘am i scaring you?’ he asks and you shake your head again.

‘see, she’s not scared’ he turns around to tell them. ‘them’ are the familiar figures that sit at the back, hidden in the shadows. you still don’t know their names — you’re left so mindfucked each time you can barely remember a thing. they all come and go, most don’t even touch you, they just want to watch a human being toyed with.

‘you know-’ he turns back to you ‘-i don’t really care for humans but i have to admit i do like how nice and warm they feel when i fuck them’ he runs two fingers down your neck. ‘and he’ his eyes flicker to seungcheol and back ‘tells me you’re a really good slut. tells me you begged to live so you could become one’

‘so, if you can’t even do that properly then there’s no point keeping you alive’ he whispers, pushing his sharp nails into the throbbing pulse in your neck.

‘that’s enough’ seungcheol steps forward.

a snarky little smile pulls at wonwoo’s lips ‘why? have you grown attached to your pet?’ he mocks, attempting to rile him up.

‘now now, let’s not fight in front of the human’ you hear him again, a shiver running down your spine. you remember the last time he was here — him and the other one took turns with you for hours. it was brutal. so why does your pussy throb thinking about it?

you hear his sadistic hum echo off the stone walls as he tugs at the chain that’s attached to you. he drags you towards him, watching you crawl across the floor to where he’s sitting.

‘i hope we didn’t ruin the mood for you’

you say nothing.

‘did we?’ you know from experience there’s no right answer here. ‘yes? no?’ he pushes, itching for you to answer.

‘jeonghan, i think you’re the one that’s scaring her’ someone laughs and you feel your blood curdle for the second time. the other one is here too.

your pulse picks up, your heart beating through your chest a million times a minute. you try to calm yourself down but it refuses to steady. are you scared? excited? both?

‘ooh, i think she likes you joshua. can you hear that? her heart is beating so fast’ jeonghan tattles like a snotty kid revealing your crush to the class.

‘aww, you like me? come here’ jeonghan drops the chain as you turn to joshua. he claps his hands calling you towards him like a dog. you crawl to him, the cold stone under you bruising your knees; but every time you get closer, joshua takes one step back. you can hear hushed snickers from the audience as he does it again and again, taking longer strides each time.

‘joshua, her knees’ seungcheol warns. he hated bruises on his human pets.

‘okay, okay, i won’t tease anymore’ he stops, letting you reach him.

‘now let's not forget our manners. when you greet someone you should bow. i’ll go first’ he bows to you, causing jeonghan to chuckle. that sick laugh triggers memories of last time. these two played off each other's energy constantly — when one laughed, so did the other; when one was cruel, the other followed. they were so in sync, right down to the way they fucked you.

‘now you go!’

you bend, bowing low, feeling hot humiliation burn through your body.

‘lower’ he lifts his foot up and places it on your back, pressing down till you can’t bow any further. ‘how polite’ he smiles a smile that reaches his eyes.

‘see, we have such an obedient slut here, so why are you wasting time fighting?’ jeonghan taps his nails on the armrest before letting out a long sigh ‘now someone please fuck her, i’m bored’

‘get up’ joshua pulls you up by the chain. ‘choose!' he points around the room 'who do you want to fuck the most? we’ll start off with them'

you look around, your eyes drawn to wonwoo. it’s almost hypnotic the way you feel compelled to look at him. your body wants him…and so does your mind? there’s a voice repeating his name in your head that you're sure doesn't belong to you.

joshua’s eyes follow yours ‘how interesting..’

‘well, wonwoo’ he lets go of the chain as it hits the floor with a resounding clang ‘she’s all yours’

wonwoo smirks, walking over. behind him, you see seungcheol’s face sour, his eyebrows pulled together.

wonwoo walks leisurely, a warm wetness spreading between your legs as he practically devours you with his eyes on the way.

the closer he gets, the more you realise how tall he is. his lean frame towers over you as he grabs your jaw making you look up at him. under his rough grip he can feel it all — your blood rushing, your rhythmic pulse, the heat of your skin — you feel so alive and that makes him so hard.

he takes his thumb rubbing it across your plump lips and then without warning pricks you, immediately licking away the blood that oozes out ‘fuck, you’re delicious’ he mutters against your lips. he glances back to see seungcheol has taken a silent step forward and rolls his eyes.

‘well’ he says, pushing you down to your knees ‘i hope for your sake you fuck as good as you taste’ he unzips his pants, pulling out his cock and stroking himself as you see him lick his lips again desperate for another taste of your sweet blood.

‘go on, what are you waiting for? open your fucking mouth’

god, you’re in for a really hard night.

him or me? | k. mingyu

Mingyu figured he had properly moved on from the fact that his girlfriend used to fuck one of his members. Inviting everyone out to an accommodation near the seaside for the weekend. An opportunity to relax was all he had in mind.

Good food, good company, good time, right ?

Who knew years of healing could be reset in one evening.

contents: smut. afab reader, mentions of alcohol, ex FWB hoshi being drunk af, boyfriend Mingyu with a temper… yeah, semi public jealousy sex, size kink lowkey, desperation, condescending attitudes, slight dub con, bit of edging, oral (m receiving), mating press, raw sex, cream pie, Dino just trying to live his life man.

Fingers rim the emptied shot glass in front of him as he contemplated your attendance to the outing. Its too late to come up with an excuse to leave, but any train of thought was better than focusing on the conversation between you and your former fuck-buddy.

Your arrival was smooth. Everyone was well behaved for dinner. The real problem started a couple bottles of soju later. 

Hoshi lives for the spotlight and Mingyu was naive enough to think he’d keep the theatrics down tonight. Unabashedly chatting your ear off as you sat next to your boyfriend; causing laughter to rip from your stomach as you showcased that pretty little smile that would usually be directed towards Mingyu, now on display for everyone to see. For Hoshi to see.

It took a few shots before the physical closeness started getting to him, personal bubbles being invaded after each sip. Vigilantly watching hands that brushed past each other in movement turn stationary. Resting on your arm while talking, wrapping around your shoulder like practiced movements, because to be fair, that's just how close you two are. 

Well, were .

Dino’s unaffectedness led him to call for another round, and of course—being off camera—they all respected the maknae’s wish without deliberation.

Hoshi giggles at the way your face twists at the bitterness, bringing a finger to the corner of your mouth to swipe at the droplet of soju that lingered there, “ Ah, so cute.”

He’s been lenient enough. The burning in his chest becomes too unbearable to ignore, “Let’s not overdo it.”

His tone raises heads, concerned eyes immediately lifting to assess what had happened. 

Hoshi’s drunk, filter far from removed, “What? ‘S true .” His ditzy gaze takes a lap around the room before landing on you again, “ ‘Y know—you’re really lucky, Mings.” Puffy eyes drag over your body, licking at his lips before he speaks again, “I bet you two have loads of fun. I know we did .”

Seats draw back in unison, shaking the table with their abrupt motions. Coups immediately jumps in to haul Hoshi back, muttering something about getting to bed while the others swoop in to create some distance between the two.

Hands smooth over his tense chest, soothing voice attempting to coax him into calming down, “Mingyu— hey. C’mon babe, he’s just drunk.” 

Something in the way you were defending Hoshi ruptured what was left of Mingyu’s composure, voice projecting louder than anyone had anticipated, “What do you mean he’s just drunk? Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you?” 

The table falls silent, leaving it crystal clear to hear the next words that spill from his mouth, “Or is it that you liked it?”

Each syllable is heavy; coated with accusations and overflowing your ears, leaving you in a murky puddle of fury and embarrassment.

Seungkwan tries coming to your defense, “Hyung, c’mon, this isn’t on her—”

“Let her answer.” His jaw tenses, paying the younger boy no mind as his gaze continues to pierce right through you.

You open your mouth, lips parting in an attempt to speak up for yourself but nothing makes it past the sudden strain in your throat. His glower leaves you paralyzed. It’s unwavering, stinging your cheeks with its intensity. 

Seconds of icy silence go by before Mingyu exits with a not so subtle tch. Head nodding in disbelievement as he makes his way into the first bedroom he sees. 

Luckily, you’re able to catch the door before it slams shut, stinging your palm in the process, shutting it with a gentle click instead, “Mingyu, please.”

He snaps his neck backwards, “Oh, now you have something to say? Let's hear it, then.”

His attitude only worsens when you just look at him unimpressed, chin jutting out in irritation, “Nothing? Ha.” It’s a mocked laugh, filled with every opposite connotation of joy.

“You sure had a lot to talk about back there, maybe you should go talk to your friend instead.”

Addressing Hoshi had never felt so hateful. It was almost comical how fired up he’d gotten over the whole situation. You wanna console him, reassure him of his place, but the embarrassment from his public scolding prods at your ego, “You know what, maybe I should.”

Swift feet turn to head towards the door. Hands clasp and twist the handle, seeing the light bleed in from the hallway till the door suddenly slams shut, rattling the frame. 

A strong hand falls on your shoulder, forcing you around. He inclines to match your eye level, eliminating the distance keeping you apart—so much so that you can almost taste the soju on his breath, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, huh?”

You stare at his unrelenting grasp in warning, burning holes in the skin before looking forward to speak levelly, “To talk to my friend.” 

Aggravation suddenly peaks, shoving at his arm, using the entirety of your strength to push and prod at his chest, making him take steps back towards the small bed with each word, “Isn’t. That. What. You. Wanted?”

You’re in his face now, huffing from the exertion, and it takes everything in him not to cackle. Rejoicing over the fact you’re this affected after he let you push him, gracefully granting his feet to stumble backwards just to allow you to feel some semblance of power.

But enough with the bullshit, you’ve had your fun all evening. 

In the blink of an eye you’re flinged onto the bed, head bouncing against the springs as he settles between your legs, descending to plant his toned arms on either side of your face. He wants to add some of his weight on you to assert his strength, but decides against it when he feels you lose your fight. 

The position suits you, he thinks. Your sudden toughness fizzling away with every second he’s got you caged up under him like this, with that naive little deer in the headlights gaze, so weak and helpless. It makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

The pad of his thumb reaches out to caress your cheek, “Pretty girl just thinks she can do whatever she wants, hmm?” 

His voice is tantalizing, drawing goosebumps on your skin as his lips press onto the shell of your ear, “You thought I was just gonna let you waltz out there with him?” Hips press into your clothed heat to drill in his sentiment, “When you’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted right here ?”

Haughty chuckles fan over your jugular as he hears you whimper, parting your legs wider to feel more of that delicious friction.

He’s relentless in his movements, feeding you as much as he can with the barrier of your clothes still standing strong. Lifting from the crook of your neck, eyes desperate to take in the picture of your pathetic face; lids screwed shut with your lips tucked between your teeth to try and hush your sounds as you grind against his movements, “Do you really think he can make you feel as good as me?”

He’s already won the physical battle, you won’t let him bag the psychological one too. You know he’s easily provoked. Wearing his emotions on his face, buttons all shiny and waiting to be mashed on. It’s only natural that you’d want to exploit them. So you lock your ankles behind his back, pressing more of his weight into your core, “Prove to me that he can’t.”

The flicker of determination in his eyes makes your stomach churn in excitement. Defenses slowly crumble down as he glides heavy palms over your body, slithering towards your sex, pushing your panties into the sweltering heat through the denim. Lazing tracing over your clothed slit to have you bucking against his touch.

He feels kind in the moment, letting you enjoy the feeling before delivering a harsh slap. Using his legs to keep you spread as you try to shield yourself from the second one. 

“You really thought that would work?” His lips pursed in a mocking tut as he leaned in closer, “Prove to me you deserve it.”

Disbelief overcomes your features, tugging your lips into a faint pout as you defeatedly slide down the mattress, onto your knees where you knew he wanted you. 

He sneers at the way you await instruction, fingernails digging into your thighs in anticipation of whatever morsel of himself he’d offer up. 

You pick up on nuances so well, he’s contemplating whether or not you deserve a treat.

Thick fingers take their time in fiddling with his belt buckle, the sound of metal clinking and unclasping ringing in your ears, mocking you as they fall mid thigh. Wasting no time in shoving his hand in his boxers to grip and pump at the length. Satisfaction swelling within his chest when he sees you gnawing on your lips, eyes silently pleading for a peek.

A conceited smile shines in the dimly lit room as he continues to tug, “Wanna see?”

Lust dumbs you out, pushing your knees together to try and pacify the throbbing between your legs as you sit there rapidly nodding up and down. He beckons you with a low voice that vibrates from anticipation, “C’mere.”

Kneecaps knock along the wood as you scoot closer. Eager hands reach out and quickly drag down the waistband of his boxers, prompting his hard cock to spring up and tap against his abdomen. Smearing the carved out muscles with a dollop of pre. He winces, catching you by the roots of your hair, forcing your attention upwards just before your tongue is able to latch onto his tip, “I said see, not touch. Understand ?”

Asshole . 

You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness but his grip only tightens, craning your neck farther back and shaking you by the strands to extract some sort of confirmation, “Well? Do you? ”

Your jaw ticks in irritation. Partly from the tug, but more-so over the fact that you lack the will to refute him. A weak ‘yes’ tumbles past your lips and he pretends to mishear, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Lungs push out a sigh in defeat. If you were able to slump over you would, but his strong hold kept you in place, “Yes.” The word comes out thorny, well enunciated to make sure he didn't miss it this time.

He doesn’t even try to hide his smile, “Good.”

“I’m gonna let go now, you just have to stay still and sit pretty for me. Think you can manage?”

You scoff under him, “I'll try my best.”

With a nod of his head, a hand reaches to pinch at your cheek, “That’s the spirit.”

Locks of hair fall from between his fingers as he finally releases you. Opting to clutch onto his girth instead, starting at the base where droplets of pre gathered the most. Fresh beads oozing out each time he squeezed harder, soft groans fill the room as he pumps slowly in front of your face. Rocking into his fist as he throws his head back to really sell how good it feels. 

Hands stop working himself before he shuffles closer to lay the sticky head on your soft lips, a small gasp escaping at his sudden action. He pays attention to the way your thighs press together in reaction. 

“Spit on it for me, will you?”

Warm saliva drips onto the head and he twitches in response, tucking his lower lip between his teeth to suppress a moan, “You take direction that well from anyone, or just me?”

He’s dying to know. Even if it hurts, he needs to know if you’d renounce your self-respect like this for anyone, or if he was the exception.

Glossy eyes peer up at him through furrowed brows, revealing everything he needed to know then and there. But he still awaits his response.

“Just you Mingyu, please, let me taste it.”

He fights back every instinct that yells at him to let you gag on his cock, re-threading his fingers through your hair to get a solid grip, “I don’t know if you’ve earned it, baby.” He guides your face lower to where his balls hang, “I don’t think you deserve a taste just yet.”

A sadistic grin tugs at his lips, thinking he’s successfully broken your pride. Little does he know that every last shred of dignity was stripped from your body the second he flinged it onto the mattress. Your mind was already set on being his ragdoll, he’s toying with himself , really.

Warm breath ghosts over his sensitive skin, “Let me prove it, then.”

Kisses along the tender flesh of his inner thighs turn to kitten licks before you take one of his balls on your mouth. The salivation from seeing his aching cock aids the pleasure he feels, swirling your tongue around it before detaching with a lewd pop, wasting no time in giving the other attention. Smugness blooms from within everytime you see his thighs tense up. 

He gets so lost in the feeling that his hand slips from your hair, moans claw from his taut throat when you pair your ministries with a tug to his length, making sure to drop a glob of spit on your palm before tugging upwards. Sliding your thumb over the leaky tip before gliding back down, squeezing at his base before pumping at an agonizing pace.

Mouth and hands switch places when you feel him rocking into your touch, desperately needing to feel his tip bruise the back of your throat.

Guttural growls pry from his chest as he feels the heat of your tongue glide along his veins, the plush of your inner cheeks greedily sucking him in. He sounds pathetic as you pick up the pace, doing everything in your power to draw more sounds so that everyone can hear just how desperate he is. How their big, tall, and strong friend Mingyu turns into nothing but a puddle of mush over some head.

If his moans weren’t enough to go off of, the stutter of his hips gave him away. You hollow your cheeks, faithfully prepping for the warm and salty batch of cum to ooze into your esophagus, letting your eyes fall shut as he repeatedly prods at your uvula, prompting your throat to tighten up around him with each thrust. 

Before you get your taste he retracts, finally allowing proper airflow into your lungs, coughing as drool dribbles past the corners of your mouth. 

That glint of anger in his eyes from earlier returns before he tugs you by your hands, helping you up just to shove you unceremoniously onto the bed.

“I’ve had enough of you.”

Impatient hands unbuckle your pants. You shimmy your hips to help him peel them off your skin, discarding them onto the floor.

Your legs fall open on their own, lips spreading under the cotton panties he decided to leave on. Nail beds trace the backs of your thighs, teasing there. Warm and playful, only stopping their glide when your hips cant upwards to chase the tickle, desperately needing to feel them in a more intimate spot.

He plays with the waistband of your underwear, and just as you think relief is so close, he yanks them up. Burying the cotton between your lips, dampening the fabric and causing the puffiness to spill out from its confines. Tugging in spontaneous spurts to see you pitifully rut against each motion. Seeing your legs spread wider to try to entice him into finally fucking you.

Mingyu wants to see the wet mess to spread more, pairing the tugs with gentle traces of circles along your clit to speed up the process. There’s a sudden wave of ease that washes over as he stands to hover above you. Drinking in the moisture of your orbs before leaning to plant himself between your legs once more.

The heat of his cock makes you feel even more dizzy, twitching with every slight brush of his skin contact, licking your lips at the mere thought of his entry. 

An entry that doesn't come. 

Only punishing drags along the damp fibers as he grazes your aching clit with the tip of his length. Burying himself deeper into the cotton to try and alleviate the burn in his stomach. 

He knows its not enough, but for the sake of pride, he’ll let you believe it is, “ Fuck— I think I can get off just like this, paint this pretty pussy, uh ?” He presses chaste kisses to your cheek, “ How’s that sound? ”

You groan, dissatisfied with his proposition, “ ’m sorry ah– about earlier, ok ?” Shaky fingers thread through his damp locks, “Now quit stalling and just fuck me already.” There’s a slight whine to your voice, quivering under him in desperation, "I need you and I know you need me too. ”

That's what it took to break him, have his hands shoving your underwear to the side to expose the way you flutter around nothing. It’s a sight he’d usually dote on, but the burn beneath his belly button is becoming unbearable. 

His toes curl into the wood panels when he finally breaches your heat, making the most of it by burying into the hilt. Taking a second to catch his breath before hitting you with a thrust that fizzles every nerve in your spine.

He’s losing his sanity, slowly toppling over till he finds himself in the crook of your neck. “Oh fuck.” 

White stars shine behind his eyelids, “You like that, don’t you? Squeezing me so fucking tight .” The typical confidence that embeds his voice shrivels up, slack jaw landing near your pulse point, “I’m not gonna go anywhere, greedy girl .”

There’s nothing to do but slowly spiral into pleasure. Laid on your back as he stills. Tracing each curve with his calloused palms, trudging over your soft skin because he knows he’ll give out if he moves too fast.

Hips drawn into a languid pace in an attempt to delay the inevitable. It's agonizing, and he knows it, he feels it too. 

As a distraction he decides to zero in on the not so subtle shlick shlick shlick that bounce off the walls each time he draws out. He smooths over your thighs to try and get you to focus too, “Hear that baby?” When your whimpers don’t die down he palms over your mouth, “Listen to how wet you are.” Smirking above you before resuming that mind-numbing, languorous pace.

The stalling is beginning to break his soul, evident in the way his hips begin to pick up speed. Reaching between your legs to swirl his fingers around your clit. Tensing every fiber of muscle in his abdomen each time he feels you clench, tight rings of muscle squeezing sporadically with each snap.

“He ever make you feel like this?”

Like the world was tipping on its axis, making every nerve in your body suffer through all three degrees of burns?

No, never . That was Mingyu’s speciality, and the way you can't form a sentence in response tells him just that.

He digs his finger into the pits of your knees. Planting your knees on either side of your head. Making you feel every ridge of his cock deeper than before, swollen tip bullying the soft and spongy nerves that makes you sob and squirm beneath him.

“Just like that, fuck—don’t hold back.” He cranes forward, resting his sweaty forehead on yours as he continues to drill into your sopping pussy, “Let him hear you—hear how good I fuck you. ”

He’s relentless, letting his hand lay over your throat but not constricting, ultimately scared he might like it too much and end up hurting you.

You babble away but everything comes out unintelligible except for the last few bits, “ Hnngh–fuck, Mingyu ’m gonna—”

“ Do it , make a fucking mess.”

On his cock, on the bed, wherever you want, it didn’t matter.

He knows you followed through when he feels a sudden spurt of liquids splash against his stomach. Warm and wet and trickling down his thighs as he chases his high. Shoving you deeper into the mattress as he fills you to the brim. Twitching from within you as he peppers your face with sloppy open mouthed kisses as a thank you. 

Grunting softly into your mouth when he feels his seed spill down the trail of his sack. Slowly lifting up to see his warmth ooze out of you.

Somehow, through the thick haze of bliss, you’re able to decipher his voice, “You look so perfect like this, all pretty and all mine .”

All ditzy, brain fuzzy from being fucked so good, really.

His observation is cut short by tumbles into the room. Unstable scuffles along the floor that somehow manage to find their footing. 

Mingyu tosses whatever he could find over your spent body before turning to look at the intruder. 

A disoriented Dino who’s attempting to piece the scene in front of him in his drunken stupor. Wobbling his index finger in the air to count the amount of bodies in the room before dismay finally hits, “ Hyung.. ” He’s whiny, letting his head fall against the door as he shuts his eyes, “ Really? On my bed?!”

(｡´•ᴗ•̀｡) boyfriend hcs : p1harmony (｡´•ᴗ•̀｡)

genre : fluff | wc >1.1k | gn!reader | requested

KEEHO:

words > actions even though the latter are present as well

low key enjoys therapy talk when you talk your issues through, especially because you get annoyed by that

pokes you, tickles you, pinches you when you get sulky

shared cultural field is so important for him, bonus points if you have similar taste in fashion and music

sends you selfies when bored

openly states that he loves praise and compliments, so expects you to shower him in those

but then you tease him for something, he teases back, and it turns into clownery you both love

so oblivious to the others’ signs of affection towards you, gets faux jealous only when you pay attention to somebody else for too long when he’s right next to you

voice of reason, loves to give advice and is really good at it

very in tune with your emotions, sometimes surprisingly attentive

contrary to popular belief, rather talks than listens

that bf that listens to you gossiping about people he doesn’t know and genuinely gasps

THEO:

the gentlest

he oozes reassurance and firmness

it’s hard for him to open up, but with time it gets better and he’s more open about his concerns and worries

prefers being low key about your relationship, but doesn’t mean you soft launching the relationship on your social media

loves to have with him something reminding of you

like a clothing item you bought him or a matching keyring

quietly approaches you when he thinks somebody’s trying to get with you in public, but other than that he doesn’t try to show off, he’s quite confident in your love for him and your ability to say ‘no’

big on quality time, let’s you come up with date ideas and activities just to spend some time with you

the type to get up before you do to make some breakfast

imo he’d try to bottle up his discontents and make the problem worse by blowing up later

it takes him some time to figure himself out before he’s ready to discuss again

shy about saying ‘sorry’ but he’s trying, that’s what counts

shows his love, gratitude or apologies through actions, small or big

JIUNG:

ironically cheesy

calls you when he’s bored and/or misses you, no matter time nor place 

all over you, and again, it doesn’t matter if you’re home or somewhere out

the type to make you show off your outfit, “do a spin, baby. so cute!”

sends you pictures of random objects and captions “you”

very forward with something that’s upsetting him, but laughs it off as something not really important to avoid a fight

kind of shy about romantic gestures but tries to do them nevertheless

snaps pictures of you when you don’t look your best to tease you later, but loves them himself since it’s still your pictures

him and you create the loudest duo even though sometimes you two are funny for each other only, others are simply patient

sneaks candies into your bag, gives you small snacks when you’re tired

pouts when he’s upset, with you or not – doesn’t matter, and asks you to kiss it better

recharges while just being with you

INTAK:

unironically cheesy

wins you a bear at an arcade and expects to post it on your story with sweet caption

keeps count on anniversaries of your firsts

prefers to go out to crowded, loud places

would be seriously invested in your friends’ drama, probably would spill something about his friends to you and then make you promise you won’t tell a soul

clingy when no one else sees it, but in public or around some other people looks chill, nonchalantly keeping an arm around your shoulders and not much more

says whatever crosses his mind, and sometimes those things aren’t nice, so the fights that are caused by him are usually because he can’t keep his mouth shut and think things through

apologizes, but it takes him a while to get into the accustomed rhythm of your relationship 

the type to grant you big gifts, he wants to spoil you or at least have an air of somebody who can

you send him a song you liked – later it’s in the background of a live

SOUL:

shy and quiet, looks at you with such obvious adoration it’s borderline unbearable for others

shares everything he finds amazing or lovely with you immediately

kinder surprise eggs for two, and eventually he gives you his chocolate and you give him a toy, so now he has a small collection of those, paired up

the type to look at the entrance in anticipation, waiting for you, and relax instantly once you’re by his side

may be bothered by somebody hitting on you but never acts on it, never says anything, probably is very relieved once he hears your firm rejection towards a stranger

adores getting lost in a conversation with you, which more often than not is actually him spilling whatever he has on his mind and you listening and adoring

not good at communicating his feelings and doesn’t think it’s worth voicing, so you have to drag his worries out of his soul against his will and work on it

in general, can take things too close to heart, but doesn’t hold a grudge

may be awkward with all the usual couple things to do, but he’s learning fast

stargazing with shota >>>

may cry when you gift him something thoughtful, just so you know

JONGSEOB:

also the teasing type, never lets you breath

would smack you on the face with your birthday cake and await for you to do the same on his birthday

billion of dorky pictures on your phone, not just the two of you together, but also from those moments when he stole your phone and clattered your gallery

your insta feed is much more aesthetic now because of the pictures he takes

not big on physical signs of affection, but if it’s your thing he welcomes it with time and gets weirded out if you don’t cling to his side

also loves receiving acts of service and tries his best to do some for you

the type to laugh to the face of those who try to hit on you

loves to fall asleep on call with you, especially when tired and exhausted

doesn’t shy away from things he doesn’t like and may be harsh about it, but talks things through immediately, hates miscommunication

loves playing video games with you, will teach you if you don’t know how to

extra pat on the top of your head when you win against somebody, sulky jongseob if you win against him

loves walks and window shopping, simple dates and exploring the city

『 cruel 』

pairings: seungkwan × gn!reader

genre: ANGST‼️i feel the need to hurt everyone right now 😈

summary: seungkwan told you that he used you to win a bet.

warnings: drama w/o plot, this a bit slightly quite painful and has a huge impact on me :'), crying, harsh!seungkwan, mention of parents neglecting the reader, reader speaking from trauma, mention of vernon, someone using the reader for a bet, rejection (?) (lmk if i missed something or if i made a mistake!)

word counts: 597

notes: this is a very short drabble to let y'all know that a short fic of han, and hoshi is coming. i've never had a free time since my last uploaded fic so i would like to apologize to the sitting requests on my ask! i promise im working on them! also, pls don't hate verkwan! love lots ^^ (our exam week is next week, wish me a luck!)

“i never loved you.”

those exact words are enough to crush your wholeness. you almost hear your heart shattering on the pit of your stomach.

you felt bad. you are upset. you are disappointed.

the person you trusted the most just confessed that he fooled you. and for what?

“you're nothing but a bet. vernon lose, i won. now, it’s over.”

a bet. he won a bet. you are the bet.

and vernon? your bestfriend?

“what? aren't you mad at me? come on, y/n, hit me! i know you want to hurt me, too! i used you.” seungkwan grabbed your hand, forcing you to hit his hard chest.

but you're to numb to do so. as much as you want to show him how much it hurts you can die right now, you know physical pain wouldn't be enough.

he hit himself, he slap his cheek using your hand but you pulled it away. your eyes fixated on the ground while breathing fast, trying to stop your tears.

seungkwan then tried to find your line of vision but you keep avoiding it. not now. not when you're too fragile, too weak, too scared.

“come on, say something. lash out on me! i know you're upset—”

“i knew it...” your whispers made him shut up. something bitter spilled inside you. “i knew something was up the day you asked me out.” with shaking voice, you let it out.

even with a blurry eyes, you force yourself to meet his gaze only to see how shocked he was. seungkwan looked pale and his pupils were going back and forth on your eyes trying to find something you don't know of.

“don’t worry. i-i figured it out r-right away– you– i... knew this day would come.” you manage to utter those despite you choking on your own saliva and the nonstop tears.

you covered your face as you breakdown infront of seungkwan, shaking your head. so what if you look hopeless and pathetic right now? so what if he use this against you someday? so what if he makes fun of your misery right now. you don't want to think of the future at the moment. it hurts, it's killing you inside-out.

“you never actually like the cupcake i baked you, right? you never once liked my outfit every time we go out. you did not really want to say my 'i love yous' back, you just don't have a choice!”

fuck. this is a different kind of pain when your pet died in an accident. this is not the same pain you felt when your parents failed to recognize your academic success back in highschool. this pain is on another level. the one that could hold you back for years, again. the pain that brought you back to your thirteen year old self.

seungkwan did not say anything. he stood there frozen. you bet on your life, tomorrow everyone will turn their back on you. your colleagues will laugh at your situation. this has happened before, none of them was your friend, they were seungkwan’s.

no matter how hard it is to swallow, your only best friend, vernon, used you too.

you hate the universe for why must it be hard to live on earth. if you aren't allowed to feel loved then why must people hurt you? they could've just push you away, not stay for a short period of time just to leave you again. not pretend they accept you when in reality they are disgusted by you. why must everyone have to be so cruel?

©genezpen

all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, plagiarize, repost to another platform/sites without my permission. this is solely available on tumblr.

MARRIAGE — jeon wonwoo x reader

summary: where wonwoo’s nightmare is coming true.

notes: yours and wonwoo’s relationship isn’t the focus in this. but you guys are married and have a daughter together!

I might create a whole series where I write drabbles/one shots of seventeen as fathers. I have some ideas of what to post, however, I’ll accept requests. this one just popped into my head today and I wasn’t able to get it out UNLESS I actually wrote it. enjoy!

“Daddy, when did you know you wanted to marry Mommy?” Yours and Wonwoo’s daughter asked.

Keep reading

Maniac au // jiung x reader SMUT

You should turn back to your rat pack, tell 'em I'm trash

Tags: jiung x reader, non-idol school!au, band kid/misfit jiung, popular pretty aesthetic!reader, reader has female parts but isnt referred in feminine terms Warnings: ROUGH smut, basically a HATEFUCK, 'slut' 'whore' spitting in your face, CHOKING (yeah…), begging for his cock (yeah…), thanking him for fucking you, fingering + blowjob ONLY, cumplay + swallowing it, DUMBIFICATION I think??? Not 2 sure :/

Popular kid!YN broke up with Jiung out of… peer pressure. But of course they still want him back 💔💔 and Jiung will only let them have him on his terms.

2.5k

~~~

You clutch your purse to your side as you wait on the bus stop bench outside of school, occasionally looking back towards the school to see if he was coming. It’s been 2 hours since you’ve waited outside; Jiung was practicing for his band in the music room, and you knew he would come out at 4…

Suddenly you see it, his head of intricately dyed hair, with his bandmates Keeho, Shota and Jongseob trailing behind him. They got on their bikes, and as they rushed to leave the campus, you could tell by Jiung’s face that he did not look happy.

You didn’t look happy either, and it’s not because you had been waiting for too long; it’s because of Jiung.

Ever since you’d broken up with him, and things just hadn’t been right… you just needed to talk to him. And you knew he had to feel the same way, you just weren’t happy without each other.

“Oh hell no,” Jiung muttered loud enough for you to hear, as you ran after his bike. “Guys, go go go—fast!” He started driving the others like you were a bear chasing them.

“Jiung, wait!” You hated this right now, this was putting a damper on your pretty little outfit, and your heels weren’t made to run in. It’s just so insulting, that you had to run after him.

“Keeho,” Jiung demanded with a whine, “pedal faster!”

“What is wrong with you?” Keeho carped at Jiung, “just talk to them!”

“Do I look like I’m in a talking mood?” Jiung started pedaling so fast he’d surpassed Soul, far away from you now. You felt like crying, but you couldn’t just give up. You’d waited two long hours in the scorching sun…

.

Okay so in retrospect, it was a bad idea to tell your friend to tell your boyfriend that you’re breaking up with him. But Intak had stressed it to you that he could absolutely do it in the most humane way, just trust him!

Now you’re reflecting on your actions! Why won’t Jiung just listen? You get that he’s mad, but he has to.

You decide you would find him at home anyway, if all else fails, and sure enough, there he is, home alone—perfect.

If only he’d open the door.

“Jiung,” you stomped on his carpet outside, “just please open the door? We need to talk.”

“Why don’t you just send Intak to speak for you again? It worked great last time!” he yelled back from the other side of the door.

“Jiung! I’m trying to fix this, do you know how long I waited for you at school today?”

He opened the door. Yanked you inside by the sleeve of your cardigan. “You’re embarrassing the neighbors—how do you expect me to even look at you? After everything that happened?” he demanded. “You sent Intak to break up with me, you couldn’t even do it yourself.”

“It was a mistake,” you stressed, “I thought Intak could explain it better—”

“Because he’s the one telling you to break up with me, isn’t he?”

“Well…” you stammered. “Not just him. Kazuha said… things.”

“They’re always saying things.” Jiung was exasperated. You really started to believe he didn’t want to see you after all. “Zuha and Intak don’t like me, Y/N, you know that. I didn’t think you’d finally start listening to them, though, I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you!” You throw your arms around him, but he stiffened himself, unable to conform into your hug, so you just cup his thin cheeks in your hands. “I’m so sorry, I hate that I did this—”

“I can’t believe I was with someone like you. I should have known before we started dating, you’re just as mean and superficial as Kazuha and everybody else.” You shake your head, eyes filling up with defiance. No, no, no— “Did you tell Intak what to say? Because his speech said, you’re tired of me, I don’t deserve you, and there was that part where he insulted my whole family for being poorer—”

You gasped. “I didn’t know he said that—Jiung, oh my god, i’m so fucking sorr—”

“Of course you don’t know!” He swatted at the wall in anger. “I don’t know what’s worse—that you just let him say whatever to get me off your back, or if you’d actually given bulletpoints to why you’re breaking up with me—1) Jiung’s a freak, 2) Jiung plays band, making him a loser—”

“I don’t think that!”

“Well, Intak said everything you’d ever need to say to me, so please leave now.” he started pushing you out the door, but you push back.

You claw at him, making him close the door, keeping you inside. “Jiung! Wait! I told Intak to finish the job because I couldn't even bare looking at you-because I really cared about you!”

“'Finish the job' are you kidding me? What am I, a mortal combat final boss?” Jiung, with a glance at you, saw your shaking pupils, pretending to rain down tears, and yielded. He sighed. “Fine… fine. I'll agree that you were confused, Intak and Kazuha are assholes that influenced you—”

“I went insane,” you say, “momentarily. Can we please get back together?”

Jiung looked at you with scrutiny. “You were an asshole,” he says finally. “You promise you'll never act that way again?”

“Yes!” You swear there's happy tears forming at the edges of your eyes as you approached him, wanting to dive into his arms like you always used to—but he holds you at arm's length.

“You promise you won't be a jerk again, and we can date, and you won't let those assholes you call your friends get into your head?”

“Well…” you stammered. “Well… Intak and Zuha can’t know we're together again.”

Jiung's eyes flashed with some sort of animalistic rage. “What?!” Before you can explain, he starts to bellow with laughter. “Oh, I’m your dirty secret? You want me to kiss you behind closed doors, it’s sooo shameful to fuck me, is that it? Do you believe everything Intak tells you about me? That I’m some worthless, nerdy freak, not even on your level?”

“Of course not!”

“Why do you even want me back if I’m such a loser, huh? Oh, what, because you want what you can’t have?”

“Ji…” you swallow, looking into his wild eyes. It seemed you’d only dug yourself into a deeper hole with every word you speak. “I really do love you. It’s just complicated…”

“My feelings aren't complicated,” he says plainly. “I fucking hate you. Get out my house—”

“No, Jiung!” You grapple, grabbing at his arms which are forcing you out, like you're in a soap opera. “I’m sorry! Please, just give me a chance to fix it!”

Because you’re holding onto his arms, there’s not much he can do with your weight hanging on—but he yanks his hand back, and you keep holding on, which makes him and you both topple over each other, onto his parents’ strawberry colored carpet.

He’s angry that he even has to be lying on top of you, you didn’t deserve to be close to him, and he’s right—you were a coward and a superficial asshole, but if you could just fix it—you grab his face and pull him in a kiss, desperately wanting him close to you, his familiar tongue in your mouth.

But Jiung immediately pulls away, hands pinning you down so you can’t sneak attack him again. “You’re so desperate, it’s pathetic, Y/N.” But his hands slowly went under the bottoms you were wearing, like it was just magnetic, chemistry, Jiung can’t keep his fingers off Y/N.

You encourage the roaming of his hands all over your body, in fact guiding them so they could feel the best parts of you, remind him what he still loves.

You guide his hands all over your body, under your little pink bra, which he was stretching out as his hand went under it to grope you until your nipple hardened, while his other hand squeezed your butt, nails digging in like into juicy forbidden fruit.

Jiung’s breath hitches as you watch; he’s shaking with anger, but he still wants you, and you hope he could just fuck the rage out and love you like before.

Jiung feels you over your panties, there’s so much hesitation in his expression—like he’s gambling with his pride letting you fuck him again. But he quickly gives in, pushing the wet fabric to the side and wets his fingers, before carefully prodding your entrance, while his thumb rubbed over the clit on top.

You moan and scoot backwards at the sudden feeling, it felt like discovering your clit for the first time, so much feeling in one swipe of his thumb. You whined, "Jiung…"

“Shh,” he snapped. “You better not get smart right now.”

His finger entered you, just the middle one, taller than your own, which curled up and hit you exactly where it felt heavenly, making you moan.

When it wasn't enough, he added a second one, and loved the way your walls felt so tight and warm around them, and with the volume of both digits, he started to pump in and out of you, each thrust coating his fingers in more slick, white on his digits.

You threw your head back and called for his name, fingernails digging into the carpet.

"Good?" He prodded.

You nodded, rocking your hips into him until he was knuckles deep.

"Words," he demands.

"Yes, so good, so, so good, oh, Jiung…" you gave your best pornographic moan, still on a mission to seduce him back.

“What was that you were telling Intak? I’m a nerd with fingers that are good for math and not much else?”

“Jiung…” You could scream, but you focus on your breathing.

“You better be running back to Intak telling him how well I fuck you.” Oh, he's mad… Yes you get that he's mad, but he's actually really mad. “Slut,” he snarled, “it’s almost like you have no fucking shame in you-and look, you’re tight around my fingers, little slut gonna cum?”

You mewled, hard, pushing him back, not willing to take any more humiliation. But it still scared you that he might stop and never fuck you this way again, because, goddammit, no one fucks you like Jiung does.

You grow perturbed, but his thumb against your clit just made a dumb little bimbo out of you, so you jut your lips out in a pout, eyebrows furrowed. “J-Ji… kiss… kisseu…”

Instead of showering you in a million soft kisses like he used to on the good days, Jiung growls at you again, and with the curl of the corner of his lips, he spits on your needy mouth.

"You'll swallow it if you want me to make you cum," he commands, so you do as he demands. He’s holding your orgasm ransom.

It’s wet, you know you’re dripping all over his carpet and his fingers, and it feels like relief but you still feel… empty. You need Jiung so bad.

You had a sweet, pure relationship that you could count the number of times you had sex on your fingers-meaning not that much-and he'd never fucked you like he hated you, so it makes you nervous… but Jiung understands exactly what you want from him once your gaze lands on his crotch.

"You look pathetic right now," he says. "Tell me how much you want my cock now, and maybe I'll consider fucking you."

You glare up at him. “N-no… you wouldn't… you wouldn't just walk away, you were gonna fuck me anyway.”

He scoffs. Suddenly his fingers are out of your wet cunt, and he wipes the slick digits on your bare thighs. "Try me, Y/n."

No nicknames, no softness. He starts to walk away.

You crawl up, on all fours, on your knees, grabbing at his pants. "W-wait! Please!" Now you’re really begging, on your knees even, rather than lying on your back-you'd made it more humiliating for yourself.

"Please, Ji! I-I'm so sorry, and you know I love you!"

"Love me?"

"I do! I do love you, I just-"

"Do people dump the people they love through second-hand?”

“I—Ji! Please! Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it! I’ll beg like a dog—”

“Shhh.” He’d lost that rage in his eyes, replaced by a calm storm that brewed in the dark pupils. “You’ve swallowed my spit, I think you’ve surpassed patheticness.” He nods at you, so you think you’ve both reached an agreement—you reach out and pull his pants down, the baggy sweatpants coming off easily. He's more than semi-hard from seeing your cunt, but it’s not like he needs you, or even wants you.

“Do you think your pussy deserves my cock?” He asks. “Honest question, really: do you think that?”

You falter. “N-no… no, you deserve… better…”

You see his gaze soften as he looks at you, and you almost think he’d kiss you, but he just reaches forward and pets your head. "Go on, then," he told you. "Go ahead, suck my cock that you don’t deserve."

You stared up his cock for a second, almost in adoration, before you realized what you were meant to be doing, and immediately took it in your warm mouth, tongue wrapping around the underside softly like trying to not break a thin candy.

Jiung gathered your hair out of your face and into a ponytail, as if he werent even affected by your warm mouth around him. "I always did like your hair like this, no matter what Zuha says about letting your hair down," he says wistfully. "You’re such a little dummy. You do everything they tell you to do."

You moaned around his cock, wanting to speak, but the way he was hardening on your tongue meant that he did want you, and you didn’t want to lose that.

"Dating me was, what? The one individual choice you made for yourself? Poor Y/n, they couldn't let you have that. Now you've lost me, and yourself."

He's way too deep, you feel your own spit and his precum dripping down your throat, it’s disgusting but you loved it, loved having Jiung come apart for you like this. You were the only one he wanted to fuck this way, you had to be!

You were tearing up, you didn’t know if it were from his words or your gag reflex straining itself. But you put more work into sucking his cock, pumping it with your hands like you knew would get him cumming down your throat.

"Stop."

He's almost there. You can feel him pulsating in each quivering vein.

"I said stop," Jiung says sternly, pushing your head back with one finger on your forehead. You stop, mouth still wide open, tongue out, like you've seen in all those amateur movies.

Jiung's cum starts to spray white unto your tongue, as he pumped it, and you take it all with a hum. More, more! You hoped he'd finally show you some love at the end of it, but…

He thumbed away your tears with a fake coo. "I gave you my cum, what do you say?"

"Th-thank you…"

"See," Jiung starts to say, "pretty little dummies can be taught, after all."

He stuck his fingers down your tongue, swirling the cum and spit around. "I think you should go, if you stay any longer I might start to feel bad."

He helps you fix your dislocated bra, and the too, and your sopping wet panties he just takes off and throws into his room, they were too wet to wear, anyway. You start to ask if you were back together, if things could be okay again, but he repeatedly shuts you down.

“Go back to your rat pack and tell them I at least fucked you good one last time,” Jiung speaks in low mutters, like he’s too good for you to hear his voice properly.

You missed all of him, especially his voice. He used to be so gentle with you, never once cursing…

“I’m done with you.”

Eyes teary from gagging, you reach out for a piece of his shirt, crying. “Please, no, Jiung—”

“That’s enough,” he says decisively, “we’re over.”

He doesn’t push you away, but he does leave the front door open, where anyone from the porch could see you kneeling on the carpet, eyes filled with tears. It hurt your heart, but you couldn’t be more humiliated than right now, and you gave up, scared of what he’d do if you stayed.

But you did love him, you wanted to say it to him a thousand times now, over and over again, as if that would fix all your mistakes.

ミღ crybaby — l. chan x reader

i want you to cry, cry for me (cry for me / twice)

description. you've always had a tendency to cry over minuscule things and chan kind of hates it—he thinks it's irritating and immature and stupid. it also doesn't help that he's fighting off the feeling that he might be super into it, because that would just be scandalous, right?

✘ genre. smut (18+), minor angst, fluff ✘ tags. *smut tags under cut* tattooist chan, crybaby reader, use of alcohol & weed, brief descriptions of pain, unrealistic portrayal of getting a tattoo done but who cares, chan is kinda mean in this but he makes up for it promieee ✘ w/c. 7.9k

✘ smut tags. dacryphilia, fingering, semi-public sex, praise kink, petnames (baby, good girl, crybaby), brief condescension

You’re a crybaby—there’s no simpler way of putting it.

Glossy eyes and sticky cheeks are no stranger to your everyday life. Your parents thought you’d grow out of it, even when the tears followed you through middle school and were the root of some fucking embarrassing moments in high school.

Surely university would change things. Surely it’d teach you that the big girl world has no room for your whimpers. Surely you wouldn’t end up crying to your childhood friends, Jeonghan and Jihoon, because you tripped over your own laces even now that you’re in your twenties.

You learn that the thing about being a crybaby is that you never really stop being one.

So yeah. Here you are, in your twenties, knocking on Jeonghan and Jihoon’s door, as you try to hold back the tears that threaten to spill because you tripped over your shoelaces in front of the lobbyman on the way up to their apartment.

You were supposed to meet up with them and a couple other friends from your little circle, but of course you just had to mess things up for yourself, silently reprimanding yourself for letting something as silly and stupid as this get to your head.

You’re expecting Jeonghan to open the door—he’s usually the one by the door—so it’s safe to say that you’re just a little surprised when you see Chan open the door.

Chan runs in your friend circle—he’s a good friend of Jihoon’s, so naturally you see each other often. Though, you wouldn’t exactly call the two of you close. Chan’s a bit … intimidating. Tight lipped and narrow eyes, he doesn’t speak to anyone much, let alone you.

That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy him; after all, Chan is a nice guy, and he’s patted your back and soothed your tears on multiple occasions before. You’ve had some fun conversations here and there, usually when you two are the first to get to a spot and sit and wait for the others to show up.

Chan is also … handsome. Intimidating and kind and handsome—an odd mix, really, but it has your gears turning whenever you’re around him, so rest assured you’re at least a little frazzled when he opens the door instead of Jeonghan.

He glances at you as you furiously wipe away your tears and frowns. “What happened?”

You choke out a small laugh as your breaths finally even out, shaking your head as you move to the side of the couch so he can have some room to sit. “Embarrassed myself in front of the lobbyman,” you mutter, finally letting your hands drop from your face and by your side.

Chan just hums and nods, not prying any further, telling you, “I’m sure he didn’t notice,” before stepping to the side so you can shuffle into the room. With burning cheeks, the two of you make your way to the living room, and you’re grateful that Chan was the only one to arrive before you, so the only others in the room are Jeonghan and Jihoon.

Jihoon catches the sight of your tear streaked cheeks faces first, sighing as you sit down next to him. You can tell he’s about to ask you what happened, but you hold up your hand to stop him. “Don’t ask, it was embarrassing,” you mutter, sinking into the cushions.

Jeonghan clicks his tongue but pats your head from the armchair next to the sofa as Chan sits on the ground across from him. The four of you fall into conversation pretty quickly, and you soon forget all about your stupid laces and stupid tears and laugh along with your friends as the others begin to show up.

It’s how it always goes: the tears and then the laughter that always follows. You’ve grown accustomed to it, and as you adjust to the so-called big girl world, you learn that if your habits can’t be dumped, you might as well learn to live your life around them.

Your friend Soyeon greets you at the tattoo parlor the next day. Smiling, she waves you down to her counter, peeling her eyes away from the screen to look up at you. “Hey,” she says with a smile as you adjust the bag over your shoulder. “Was waiting for you to finally stop by.”

You chuckle and shake your head, looking down. “I know, I know … I’ve been saying I want to get something done since forever but I just never had the time or the cash but I finally caved,” you explain.

Soyeon’s a good friend of yours, and she works as a piercer at the parlor by your apartment complex. You figure she doesn’t have any appointments now, which is why she’s working at the reception, and to be honest, you’re glad it’s her and not some stranger who’s helping you out right now.

“You short on cash?” she asked with a brow raised as she scrolls through the screen, presumably looking through appointments. You reach into your bag and hand her a paper of the design you want. It’s simple, and small, and she examines the image before nodding and handing it back to you.

You shake your head. “Well, I’ve been saving up to see TWICE, so I was just being cautious but now that I’ve got the tickets, I can breathe easy now.”

“Hmm, yeah that makes sense. If you’re still interested in a discounted price though, you can book an appointment with the apprentice.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Who?”

Soyeon chuckles, and points at the design on your paper. “You know, a new tattoo artist. Like, the one we got has been doing it for almost 2 years now so he’s pretty good, but it’s still lower cost than if you got this done with the regulars. And since you have a really simple design, you can trust that nothing’s really gonna go wrong.”

“Really? That’s great!” you say, bouncing excitedly as you nod your head before pausing. “Like, is there a chance it might go wrong?”

“Hmm, I doubt it. Our guy is actually great, and like I said, he’s on his final leg of his apprenticeship anyways so I’d be surprised if he messes this up, honestly.”

“That’s nice then, can you book me for an appointment with him?”

“Yeah sure,” Soyeon replies, scrolling through the computer before holding a finger up. “He should be free two days from now in the evening right before we close. That’s when he usually works, but he doesn’t have a booking for that day … does that work?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” you agree, and Soyeon smiles as she pulls out a clipboard and a paper.

“I’ll write you down for six then. Sign this waiver, and then just come in then.”

You smile and nod. “Sounds good!”

It’s the next evening, and you’re pressing your back into a wall wondering how you got yourself into this situation. One overly sweet drink in a cup held close to your chest, people dancing and playing games, talking and screaming over the loud music that blasts into your ears and straight down to your heart, you stand in a corner twiddling with your fingers.

you: hey where r u?  [8:43 PM] you: kinda worried … ur still coming right?? [8:45 PM] you: jihoooon hello? [8:50 PM] jihoon: hey i’m rly sorry [8:56 PM] jihoon: i can’t go today [8:56 PM] you: what why?? [8:57 PM] jihoon: i forgot i promised jj that i’d go over to his tonight [8:57 PM] jihoon: i’m rly sorry [8:57 PM] you: :/ it’s okay [8:58 PM] jihoon: sorry again [8:59 PM] jihoon: i know chan and jun are there, stick w them , i’m sure they wouldn’t mind [9:00 PM]

Fat chance with the latter, since Jun is in the corner of the room with a girl grinding down on him as they eat each other’s faces off.

you: yeah, i’ll just go look for chan [9:02 PM]

And that’s what you do, clutching the red solo cup to your chest as you let the situation sink into your skin. You’re a little upset, of course. Jihoon didn’t intend to flake on you, you know that for sure, but it doesn’t really help the fact that he still did it.

Needless to say you’re feeling … oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no. Not this again. No way you’re going to start crying in the middle of a fucking college party because one of your friends didn’t tag along. You’re not even alone—there’s that nice girl from your chem in the kitchen and she looks perfectly sober and ready to hold a decent conversation, there’s the goofy guy from your freshman orientation group smoking in a corner and you’re sure he wouldn’t mind catching up, and then your eyes land on Chan, relief hitting your body in recurring waves.

He’s on the couch, dark hair pushed back so they don’t fall over his eyes as he sinks into the cushions. He looks relaxed and calm, and looking at the joint that sits between his fingers, you have a feeling you know why. His other hand holds his phone, and under the glaring artificial light of his phone and the alternating colors of the led lights that train the wall, he looks handsome.

The tears that poked at your eyes just moments ago seem to die back down as you approach him, glad to see a much more familiar face—one that isn’t being sucked off by another girl at the moment.

“Hey,” you murmur, sitting down next to Chan on the worn-out sofa (you’re pretty sure you knocked over someone’s drink as your feet shuffle on the ground, but you’re a bit too much in your feels to say anything about it). You think you see Chan’s eyes narrow at you when he looks up from his phone, but you can’t quite tell.

“What’s up?” he asks, voice low and gruff as he looks back down at his phone. You remember Jeonghan saying something about how they played basketball together today so you think he’s just a bit, yet you can’t help but feel that ugly knot tie up in your throat again.

(Are you just oddly vulnerable in this moment, or does Chan look at you with something a little more demeaning than just fatigue?)

“Uh—” Fuck, there’s that stupid feeling in your throat. The one that, no matter how many times you try to gulp down, it comes bubbling back up hotter and harder to avoid until you feel your eyes sting and face grow warmer. You want to forget about Jihoon and his stupid text that you let ruin your night, and you want to tell Chan that you like his shirt because that might be the only thing that stops the hot drops from pooling in your lash line and—

“Are you going to cry?” Chan asks you flatly.

If your chances of crying were fifty-fifty one moment ago, they’re definitely one-hundred-to-one now.

“What?” All creaky and hoarse, the words come out as a strained whisper—Chan doesn’t even need to look at the fat tears that are already rolling down your face to know the answer.

You expect him to sigh heavily. To give you a ‘I knew it’ sorta look, but without the meanness. To pat your shoulder and tell you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Chan scoffs at you, and you come to the conclusion that this is easily the worst night of your life.

He could’ve stopped there. The damage was most definitely dealt and as you hold your breath and try to hold back the tears amidst the crowd (it won’t work, it never does, but you’d be a fool to not at least try), you hold onto what shreds of dignity you have left and hope he doesn’t continue.

Because again, Chan could’ve stopped there. He was right. Those five words made their point, and the grief stricken look on your face is enough to tell him that you’ve gotten his message.

Chan could’ve stopped, but he doesn’t.

“Seriously like—” he scoffs again, running a hand through his thick dark locks before shoving his phone in his pocket and turning to face you.

Oh.

There’s that face; eyebrows knitted together and jaw taut, a sharp gaze and lips almost curved into a sneer. Chan is annoyed, and he’s annoyed with you.

Oh.

You think you’d get used to it by now: the snotty tears and soft hiccups for air as you try to breathe in a room filled with so many people while feeling so alone. You guess the funny thing about being a crybaby is that no matter how many tears you waste, you’re always pushed back to square one after each time.

“—D’you ever not cry?” You think Chan intends for the words to come out as a mean joke, and through the wavering thoughts and emotions that flood through your brain and send a rush through your ears, you commend him: mission accomplished, because this is one hell of a mean, mean joke.

“Chan—” It’s a fruitless attempt, you’re starting to realize, to try and stop him.

“Like is there a single day that goes by where you aren’t bursting into tears over every damn inconvenience? Fuck, it’s so annoying.” He huffs loudly when your mouth opens agape but fails to let any words out, reaching for the joint that sits on the coffee table in front of you. Chan holds the roll close to his lips, not bothering to even glance your way as he inhales heavily. The blow of smoke from his lips moments later fogs between you two, and for a second you’re grateful that he won’t be able to see your face.

“If you want someone to wipe your tears like a baby, go look for Jeonghan or Jihoon or something,” he says finally, the smoke clearing up and fading into the crowd of people in the room. Chan leans back into the sofa, black shirt clinging close to his skin, and you can tell that this is his way of telling you to get out. “Whatever you do, leave me out of it.”

You think about Chan’s words more than you should, honestly. And you cry over it, of course. (When do you not cry about it?) You don’t tell Jeonghan or Jihoon anything about what happened that night, which is a first. Then again, it’s not every day that someone you’d confided in, someone you’d trusted, someone you’d cried to, holds an impromptu announcement of his irritation with you.

Jeonhgan would hear this and correct you, saying, “Channie isn’t annoyed with you, he just … doesn’t like how you cry often,” to which you would say that this is you! This is who you are and if Chan doesn’t like that, then he can’t ever like you!

Jihoon would hear this and tell you that Chan was just high off his mind, to which you would argue that words said under the influence always do wear a ring of honesty. They don’t bear the barrier of a filter that the sober mind does, and you would go even further to say that the words Chan spat at you that night were as true as they come.

Still, you try not to dwell on it, mainly because you fear you’ll cry if you think about it too much, and that would just be proving his point. Instead, you focus on your plans for this evening: getting your first tattoo.

It’s exciting, really, as you put on a cute skirt and simple top, skipping down the street to make your way to Soyeon’s parlor. Maybe this is a new phase of your life, you tell yourself as you slip into the parlor. It’s quiet, and you recall your friend telling you that she booked your appointment near closing time.

“Hey!” she greets you happily when you walk through the door. “You look cute.”

Smiling bashfully, you look down at the outfit. “Yeah, thanks,” you reply with a giggle.

“You excited? You’re getting your tattoo cherry popped today, right?”

“Yeah! I’m a little nervous, but I’ve also been really wanting to do this for a while,” you admit.

“That’s great to hear … the guy who’s doing your thing is just cleaning up his area, and he’ll take you to his room in just a sec …”

There are a few thudding footsteps that you hear in the distance, and when you see who approaches from behind Soyeon at the counter, your heart drops.

Of course. Of fucking course.

“Hey Chan, you ready to take her to the back?” she asks, turning around to face the one person who you’ve been trying so damn hard not to think about. Clad in a tight fit white t-shirt and dark jeans, Chan looks up from his phone, eyes landing on you in an instant.

The evening sun beams on his skin and for a moment he glows. The memories of the night before flood back to you though, and suddenly it all seems dull.

“Uh …” It seems he’s just as surprised as you, and you can only thank the gods that Soyeon is looking at him instead of you, because god knows that he is doing a much better job at hiding it. He nods his head, near-black hair wisping over his forehead as he gestures to a room in the far end of the parlor. “Yeah, everything’s set up, so it should all be good now.” Fuck, how is he able to act so normal?

“Okay great, you two can head on back there. How long you think it’ll take?”

Chan shrugs—he’s too nonchalant, and you can’t seem to read him. “Uh, like an hour. I can close if you want.”

“Nah, it’s chill,” Soyeon replies. “I gotta stock up on some packages anyways, so I’ll be here for a while.”

Chan nods, and then for the first time he meets your eyes. “C’mon,” he waves you over when he turns around, and silently you follow him through the hallway and to a door near the back. “Didn’t know tattoos were your thing,” he says as you walk into the room. The walls are light blue and most of the equipment is dark and steel—it feels sterile, and the cold distance between you and your friend (?) is not helping to ease your nerves.

“They’re, uh, just something I’m trying out. Th-this is my first one.” Shit, this is so awkward.

Chan only hums and nods, closing the door and walking over to a desk space on the side that’s littered with equipment, ink, a laptop, tissues, a couple bottles of god knows what, and some papers.

“This is what you want?” he asks finally, breaking the heavy silence as he holds up a stamp with the printed shape of a crescent moon.

“Uh—yeah,” you say quietly as he gestures towards the chair beside him.

“Cool. It’s simple, so it shouldn’t take more than an hour with all the prep and clean up,” Chan tells you when he sits down on his own swivel chair next to the larger stationed one where you’re perched by. He moves back and forth as you settle down, and he soon brings over the temporary tattoo to your arm. “Show me exactly where you want it.”

It’s a few moments of you two going back and forth, pressing the stamp over different areas of your arm before settling it on a spot just above your elbow that you like. The setting is … oddly professional, although you’re not sure if you’re happy or upset about it.

Chan and you are friends—at least you thought you were until last night—so now you wonder how things would’ve gone today if he hadn’t been honest with you last night. Would you have sat in this same chair, laughing along to jokes or catching up on your lives? Would you have voiced your nervousness, and would he have comforted you?

You don’t know, and you realize that you’ll probably never find out.

After the final position is chosen, he transfers the stamp onto your skin to create the temporary template, cleaning the area on your arm and disinfecting his needles in the process. He doesn’t really talk to you, only letting a few words slip to let you know what he’s doing, and what he’s going to do next.

Are you overthinking things? This is a purely professional setting so there’s no reason for either of you to bring up what happened last night, and Chan’s made it pretty clear he’s not interested in your feelings anyways, so maybe you should let this all go.

Your mind fills with a race of thoughts despite your desperate attempts to tell your brain to shut up, and so naturally you find yourself fidgeting in your seat.

Chan watches you from the corner of his vision. As much as he hates to admit it, there’s something … endearing about the way you squirm in front of him. It sets his heart ablaze when you avert your gaze every time the two of you make eye contact, and Chan isn’t quite sure if it’s because he wants you to hold it or if it’s just because he finds your apprehension irritating.

“We’re gonna start now,” he says finally, slipping on two black gloves and holding up the buzzing tattoo pen. “It’s gonna hurt and all, ‘m sure you know,” he hums, holding your arm and scooting forward in the rolly chair so his face is dangerously close to yours. “Let me know if you want a break, yeah?”

Strictly professional, you remind yourself when you nod, helping him adjust the angle of your arm for his ease. Taking a deep breath, you watch carefully as Chan holds the need close to your skin.

It’s a small pinch at first, and then it burns. You bite down hard on your bottom lip and press your eyes shut tight as you silently curse yourself for not preparing yourself any better for this before. Oh well, there isn’t much backing out of this now.

You aren’t sure how long it lasts, and you choose to look away because actually seeing the needle pressed against your skin makes you feel a bit more dizzy than you’d like. You enjoy the few moments where Chan takes a break, fixes something with the gun, before going back in with a few short and warning words. It’s after a few moments that the pain returns, and you slightly jerk as an instinctive reaction.

“Calm down.” Chan’s voice is deep and low, but you can hardly hear it through the rush in your ears when a hand presses over your thigh. Fuck. Fuck. Why is his hand so warm? Is he burning or are you burning and—fuck. It’s so big, and splays over the plush of your thigh so nicely and— “I can’t do this if you keep fidgeting.”

“S-sorry,” you reply quietly, peeling your eyes away as he lifts off his hand. You’re half convinced there’ll be a burn spot in the shape of his hand from where it was placed. You two are awfully close, and if you weren’t so fucking vulnerable right now you might have basked in the pretty view that is his face.

Chan feels your tears first, hears your soft sniffles second. Dropping onto his forearm that sits under your face, when he glances up at you, you’re already wiping them away and turning to look at the wall on the other side.

There it is again. That weird feeling in his chest that he always gets when he sees you tear up, and now more than ever, Chan wonders if it’s something more than discontent.

“Sorry,” you whimper, biting down on your bottom lip hard. Fuck, this is embarrassing. You can feel the burn of his eyes on you, and you’re growing more and more impatient as you wait for him to turn away. It’s a heavy few moments, although it feels like hours until he finally lifts his hand off your thigh.

“It’s okay,” he finally says, his voice lower and quieter than you expected. “Is it the pain?”

“Y-yeah,” you admit bashfully once the tears have finally stopped falling. “I have a low pain tolerance but I thought I’d be able to handle without—”

“It’s okay,” he says again, and his tone is surprisingly soft, forcing you to look down at him as he holds your arm gently. His brown eyes are wide and kind—has he always looked at you so fondly? “Calm down, we’re almost done.”

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly, and Chan senses the anxiousness in your voice. He battles himself in his mind, before telling himself that if he doesn’t give in now, he might regret it forever.

“Here,” he murmurs, easing one hand onto your lap. “Hold my hand.”

“W-what?”

“Hold my hand,” Chan repeats, a little bit firmer, but he still shyly averts his gaze, as if he too is aware of how out of character this is. “And, uh, you can squeeze it when it hurts.”

Steadily, you nod, slotting your hand into his. A perfect fit, you both seem to think as he encases his fingers around yours, but neither of you comment on it as Chan brings up the needle to your arm again, pressing it to your skin.

You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s holding you now, or because of the sheer intensity in the way he looked at you, but the tense knots in your muscles seem to relax even though you’re in pain. Tears prick at your eyes once more, but this time you make no effort to wipe them away.

You whimper a few times, and you swear on everything that Chan grips your hand a little tighter, but in your dizzy haze you can’t quite pinpoint why.

It’s a bit of a roller coaster for Chan himself. Your hand is just so … cute in his, and the soft sniffles and cries that he thought he loathed are making him second guess everything he’s ever thought about you, and as he’s finishing up drawing the little moon on your arm, he’s hit with epiphany.

Chan never hated you, and he never hated your tears. When you shift under him, press the pads of your fingers into his palm and knit your eyebrows together in an attempt to keep quiet … Chan fucking loves it.

Whenever he saw you in tears, he never hated you for crying, he hated that you were crying for any reason other than him, and he hated how you went to Jeonghan and Jihoon to wipe your tears away instead of him.

It’s a sickening thought, really, that he let those venomous words pierce your skin the night before instead of realizing his own fondness for you. His fondness for the flush of your cheeks and the pout of your lips, your fidgeting figure and wide, glossy eyes.

“Almost done …” he mutters, and it only takes two more minutes before he lifts the needle and looks up at you, still clasping your hands together.

“Is it done?” you ask meekly, tightening your grip on his fingers as you anticipate your answer. When Chan nods up at you, he watches your shoulders deflate in relief, and the light that overtakes your tear streaked face sends his heart in a frenzy.

“Just gotta put the ointment and wrap.”

You chew on your lip, and Chan thinks he might just pass out. “Is it gonna hurt too … ?”

“A little, but then it’ll feel really good,” he says honestly, giving your hand a light squeeze before letting go and taking his gloves off so he can grab some stuff from the table. You miss his warmth, but wonder if it’s for the better. Chan may be acting rather … lovingly right now, but you also never noticed his irritation with you earlier, so you don’t think you can really trust your senses.

You watch him bring out a tube, pushing out a clear ointment onto his fingers before bringing it up to your hand and smearing it over your skin. You make a disgruntled sort of sound when he does, unaware of the initial sting it came with, quickly pressing your lips together when you realize Chan is still here.

He hums, not looking up at you but still murmuring, “Good job,” as he slides the ointment over the little symbol. “So good for me …”

Fuck, this is so dirty. It’s so dirty and so sexy, and even though every bone in your body is telling you ‘no! no! no!’ you can’t help but let the little depraved whimper that escapes your mouth at the praise. Chan hears it, and he definitely feels your desperation in the air. It’s suffocating in the best way possible, to say the least.

So, to test the water, he eases one hand back onto your thigh, slightly close to your knee as he uses his other hand to pull out the clear film. “It might hurt while I put it on but it’ll feel good afterwards, ‘kay?” And when his voice is so tender and sweet, how can you do anything but look at him shyly and nod, bottom lip clasped between your teeth.

As he places the sheet over the fresh tattoo, he lets his hand inch up your thigh. Your arm stings as the film sticks to your skin, but none of it compares to the flame he lights across your skin with his gentle touch.

Oh. Oh.

This is real. This is happening.

“Chan,” you whine, and then Chan knows it in his bones.

“Does it hurt?” he asks innocently, smoothing his fingers over the film to make sure it sticks before turning his attention to the hand back at your thigh. It’s awfully close to the hem of your skirt which is already ridden up to the max, brushing dangerously close to your core.

“Not really,” you murmur, finally meeting Chan’s gaze. He’s still sitting down now, right by your chair and head a bit under yours so you can see the white light reflect against his brown eyes as you both sit in the silence.

You could hear a pin drop, and the only thing you’re focused on is the shattering touch of Chan against you, so when he whispers, “You okay?” you know he’s asking something else. Is this okay?

When you whimper as his hand slips beneath your skirt, Chan gets his answer.

“Quiet baby, quiet,” he shushes, lips ghosting over your arm as he presses a thumb against your clit roughly, toying with the nub through your panties. “‘m gonna take care of you, but you gotta be quiet, okay?”

“S’hard Channie,” you whine before slamming a hand over your mouth. “Don’t think I can …” Chan gives you a warning look before sighing and starting to gain speed.

“Soyeon’s gonna hear you,” he murmurs, rubbing circles over your panties as he starts to stand up. It has your vision going blurry—the way his fingers are so methodical and his gaze is intense on your form as he now looks down at you from above.

You don’t even have time to think about what this moment means for the two of you because Chan is leaning down and using his unoccupied hand to grab your face, smashing your parted lips against his. 

You kiss him sweetly, and Chan feels himself melt right into your touch with the way your tongue plays around shyly with his. Holding one of your cheeks, he feels the moistness of your tears under his touch, only fueling his vigor as he licks into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he hums against your lips as he pulls away, grazing his fingers over your clothed cunt. You jerk against him, using one hand to grab his firm bicep, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Channie,” you pout, swiveling your hips in the squeaky chair as you chase for more relief. Chan hums, leaning down to graze his teeth over your neck before biting down lightly. Mewling at the pleasurable sting, you sink your nails into his arm tighter as you feel a warmth boil in your tummy.

“Promise you’re gonna be quiet, baby,” Chan murmurs into your skin as he peels your panties off and to the side of your slick core, exploding the fluttering folds to the cold air of the room.

“I—” you hiccup of your own moan, a few stray tears falling when Chan eases one finger into your pulsing cunt, his thumb still toying with your clit, “—I promise,” you tell him, as quietly as you can when you blink up at him.

“That’s my girl,” he mutters when you whimper as he slips in another finger, finding a rhythm when he fucks them in and out of you at an increasingly fervent pace. They’re long and thick, finding all the spots inside of you that have you writhing in his chair, curling his fingers into them until you’re biting down on your lip so hard you might have drawn blood.

Chan watches you carefully as a fresh mark blooms at the base of your neck, a filling sense of pride overtaking him when he sees your own tears fall on the mark. “Fuck,” he groans, drinking in your choked moans that break free, despite your obvious attempts to keep quiet. You’re trying so hard for him, it’s admirable and fucking adorable. “Crying already?” he croons, starting to grind the palm of his hand against your clit in tune with the swiveling of your hips.

“C-can’t help it,” you whimper, digging your face into his chest as a futile attempt to calm down your breaths even as you approach your inevitable high. “Feels s’good,” you confess bashfully, pulling away so you can crane your neck up to look at him.

Your lashes are stuck together and your under eyes are shiny, and Chan doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything hotter. His jeans feel ten sizes too small with the way his hardness is pressing against them, and he aches for nothing more than to stick it in and fuck you until you don’t know how to cry about anything but him.

Fuck, he’s in deep. So, so deep.

Here you are, panting into his chest as he finger fucks you into oblivion, whispering words of endless praise into your ear—the two you of don’t know how things ended up like this, but you’re sure neither of you are complaining.

“‘m gonna cum,” you whine, thankful that his shirt muffles at least some of the noise. If Soyeon were ever to hear this, you might just have to never speak to her again. “Fuck, I’m so close Channie.”

It’s the way you call for him—Channie—so sweetly and with such mind numbing passion that Chan starts to lose control. He told himself he’d take his time with you, working you up to a heavy orgasm but you’re already muffling sobs into his chest and he hasn’t even stuck it in yet. It’s a sight too pretty, too cute, and Chan can’t help but indulge in you, speeding up his fingers until you let out a squeak and more tears, cunt pulsing and clenching around his fat fingers.

“There you go, baby,” he praises, curling his fingers into all the right spots as you grow limp beneath him, sobbing through your orgasm. “There you go, fuck yourself on my fingers … feels good right? Made you feel good?”

“Good,” you slur, body drifting back so you lay against the headrest of the chair, Chan’s fingers still inside of you as overstimulation replaces desperation. You look at him as if he holds all the answers in the words, shiny eyes that are blown out, sweat stuck to your skin so it makes you shine and fuck, Chan thinks you look so sexy. Legs spread and skirt ridden up when he finally slips two fingers from your dripping core, slick coating the chair and the insides of your thigh.

“Messy girl,” he chides, and you whine at both the words and the loss of him inside of you. Your breaths are shaky still, recovering from the orgasm that wracked through your body, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of this situation.

Thoughts buzz through your mind at a million miles per hour and you aren’t sure what’s more dizzying—that Can possibly likes you or that he just fingered you in a tattoo parlor. Eyes glossing over your figure, you catch the way he looks at you with pink cheeks and a tent in his jeans. Oh god.

“Can we—”

“Yes,” he breathes out. “I just—” For once, Chan looks like he’s lost. You always thought Chan to be well composed in all situations. Cool. Chan was cool, and he was intimidating, and he was hot, but now he looks at you like he wants to lay with you forever and melt into your bones, and without a second of hesitation, you know that you want to do the same.

He kisses you with a new found vigor, as if to remind you that he’s still here, wiping away the tears that still linger on your face before easing one hand around your waist, running up and down along the side of your body. “Gonna make you cry,” he grunts, turning your body so your legs hang over the side of the chair instead of the front. Pushing himself in between your legs, they instinctively part and wrap around his waist, drenched panties pressing against his crotch.

“Shit,” you hiss at the friction, glancing up at him as you flip your skirt up so you can both watch the way your hips connect. “I—”

You’re cut off by knocking on your door, all your muscles tensing when you hear Soyeon’s voice. “Hey Chan, I actually think I’m gonna head out now,” she calls out. Chan doesn’t turn around, his eyes firmly set on you under him, and he tentatively juts his hips forward, pressing his erection against your clothed core even harder.

You almost moan. Almost. You narrow your eyes up at him, but the hint of a smirk tugs at his lips before opening his mouth and saying, “Yeah, go ahead. We still got …” Chan’s eyes glaze over you, and something in them darkens as he watches you struggle not to make a sound. “We still got stuff to take care of,” he tells Soyeon through the door. “I’ll close up, just leave the keys in the box.”

“Are you sure, because—”

“Yeah,” Chan says, a bit louder and firmer this time, causing you to twitch beneath him, reaching out for a hand to hold. Chan watches you fondly as you do so, fingers going in a grabbing motion towards him, and something inside him melts when he slots one hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. “Just go Soyeon, I’ll take care of everything. Just go.”

You can hear Soyeon mutter something about Chan being an asshole as her footsteps fade away, but neither of you care after Chan looks down at you again. “Fuck,” he mutters, letting go of your hand and grabbing the back of your neck, smashing his mouth on yours as he grinds into you.

“Wan’ it now, Chan,” you moan as you fruitlessly gyrate your hips, the action proving to be difficult when your legs are locked around Chan’s torso.

“Fuck, me too baby,” he grunts, pushing your shirt upwards so that they bunch up over your bra. You help him out, unclipping the flimsy material and throwing your bra off to the side. Chan takes this time to unbuckle the black belt secured around his waistband, wasting no time to shove his jeans down to pool at his knees, leaving him in nothing but boxers that are starting to look painfully tight.

His bulge is basically staring at you, and you feel your mouth water at just the thought of what hides behind the thin fabric. Growing impatient, you reach forward and help him out, tugging down his boxers as he fondles one of your tits with a large hand. A soft gasp escapes your lips when his cock is freed, springing up and against your hand, smearing precum all over your palm.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Chan groans when you wrap your hand around the base of his fat length, steadily jerking him off as you admire how pretty he is. You look so enamored with him, and Chan feels himself growing dizzy. Fuck, this is happening. This is really happening.

Firmly yet carefully, he pushes your shoulders back and then smooths a hand over your thighs before finally pulling your hips closer to his. He traces his touch over your soiled panties, admiring the wet stain and the way you jerk against him when he brushes a finger over your clit.

You hear the rip first. The feeling of cool air against your sopping pussy hits you a second later, and you gape up at Chan who yanks your now torn panties right off of you. You can’t control your moan this time, the depraved noise ripping through your throat as you lean backwards.

“You ready baby?” Chan rasps out, shuffling forward so the pretty pink head of his cock brushes against your folds.

“Oh god,” you whine at the contact. “Yes,” you blabber. “Ready, ‘m so ready Channie.”

Chan chuckles, moving his hips ever so slightly so the tip pushes into your throbbing cunt only barely before leaving you empty again. He’s teasing you, you can feel it, but watching the lust overtake his features, you know he won’t be able to hold out much longer. “I believe you baby,” he says quietly, securing one hand by your neck and the other at your waist. “Think you can take it?”

“Yeah,” you almost scoff. “‘course I can take it, I—oh.”

Shit, he’s so big, stretching out your pussy as his cock bullies its entire length into you until his balls are pressed to your skin. “What were you saying baby?” Chan chuckles again, using his grip on your neck to pepper kisses by your collarbone as you hiccup.

“Channie,” you gasp out as he stills inside of you. You’ve never felt so full of anything before, and it’s numbing all your senses, a burn exploding through your entire body as your eyes sting.

“Oh baby,” he coos condescendingly, when he pulls away and looks at you. “My poor baby,” he murmurs, rocking his hips into yours so slightly but it still punches moans out of your lungs. “My poor, poor baby—crying already?”

“C-can’t help it,” you whimper, eyes shut tight as Chan starts to pull out further now, leaving you empty around halfway before filling you right back up. You really, really can’t help it—the way the tears flow from your eyes as if that’s all you were made to do: cry for Chan and his words that are so mean yet so nice.

“I know baby …” he huffs out, the strain in his own voice apparent. Your cunt is sucking him and and he wonders how you could be so perfect, crying beneath him from just a few strokes and dirty words—you were fucking made for him. “My little crybaby … looks so cute when she cries.”

You don’t know why, but his words only make you cry harder, choking over your own strangled moans and broken pleas as you tap his forearm and intertwine your fingers with his again. Chan thinks this is it for him—he’s fucking into you, thrusting so mean, but here you are mewling his name and gripping onto his hand like it’s a lifeline.

“Perfect,” he growls, using the hand on your hip to push you down so he can jam his hips into yours faster. “You’re so fucking perfect—my pretty crybaby.”

Your gummy walls pulse around him, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tight your vision starts to grow hazy. Your tears fall onto your shirt and something about the small stains has Chan going into a frenzy, snapping his cock into you so hard you swear it kisses your cervix every single time.

“So-o-o full,” you gasp out, feeling tears drop on your lips. Chan leans down, capturing your wet lips in a hot kiss, licking the saltiness right from your mouth. “I—I can’t wait!” you cry out when he curves his thrust into that spot.

“Channie making you feel good?” he groans, your wetness starting to drip down his pelvis, a squelching sound filling the room from every slam of his hips.

“Amazing,” you choke. “Love it, love it so much.”

“So much it makes you cry, huh baby?” Chan whispers through his own heavy pants. “Love it, love it when you cry for me …”

You can’t think, you can’t feel anything except for his cock hammering down onto you as you bury your face into his chest. “Only you, only for you, Channie!”

“Fuckin’ better be. Only I get to see you like this, right baby? My pretty crybaby. Say it.”

“Yours! Your pretty cry baby!” you cry out as you clench down on him so tight Chan thinks he might bust on the spot.

“Fuck, yes baby, yes—that’s my good girl, crying on my cock.”

“Channie—Chan! ‘m gonna—ah!”

It hits you like a truck. When you cum, it’s with tears soaking his shirt as you blubber for the impending release, your cum fully creaming his cock and making an even bigger mess between your lower halves, as he fucks it all into you. The squeezing of your gummy walls around him is more than enough for his own eyes to be rolling to the back of his head and once he’s sure you’re fucked through, he slips out of you and wraps a hand around the base of his cock.

Your face is aflame and your mind buzzes but something about the way Chan’s hands looks so prettier around his even prettier cock as you shuffling to the ground and on your knees in front of him. Still sniffling from the onslaught of stimulation, you close your eyes and hold your tongue open for him as his cock twitches.

His seed hits you in thick ribbons of white, warm as some lands on your lips and tongue, some mixing with the rest of the wetness on your cheeks. As he cums, Chan mumbles your name under his breath in broken and whiny syllables, the sound echoing off the walls in a beautiful pattern.

As he looks down at you, his cock successfully milked dry, he thinks he might just pass out.

You’re the prettiest girl in the world like this, face coated in tears and his cum. And when your lips curve up in a dopey smile and you look at him with puffy eyes, Chan knows that he doesn’t mind a crybaby as long as it’s you.

requested by @som1ig / cw ex!joshua, club setting, mention of “drinks”

the most infuriating thing about joshua is that it’s too hard to be mad at him.

it comes mostly from the fact that he’s so good. he’s genuine and kind and sweet with a. kind of uncommon sincerity — which is exactly how you fell in love with him so long ago.

so no, when you see him from afar for the first time in a year and half, you’re not mad. or angry or bitter or upset. you couldn’t be even if you wanted to be.

sure, there’s something that tugs at your heart a little; wistfulness, maybe. nostalgia. a pang of sadness, and even a fleeting moment of longing. because a year or two ago, you would’ve been right there in the club next to him. his arm wrapped around your waist or his hand laced with yours, but that space — your space — is empty.

joshua still looks okay, though — from far, at least. he’s laughing, throwing his head back, and although there’s absolutely no way you would be able to hear it from this far (with the music thumping and the buzz of conversation swelling around you), you feel like you can hear it. probably laughing at something that seungkwan is saying — seungkwan who you haven’t seen in almost as long as joshua, seungkwan who tried to reach out to you after the breakup, seungkwan who you pushed away, because he was joshua’s friend first and you didn’t want him to have to pick.

stupid of you, really. he wasn’t just joshua’s friend, he was yours too. but it’s too late for that now.

mina, your best friend appears in front of you, waving a hand in front of your eyes, giggling about how you’ve zoned out again — you shake off your feelings, take your drink from her with a laugh, and only protest a little when she drags you to the dance floor.

but it’s when you leave the dance floor, breathless and laughing, heading to rejoin your other friends at the table, that things get a little more complicated. complicated in that you run smack bang into two men — and lo and behold! what a coincidence! it’s joshua and seungkwan.

“___?” their surprised exclamations are synched, but where seungkwan is loudly incredulous, joshua is softly disbelieving.

“oh my god!” seungkwan is already hugging you, and you meet joshua’s eyes over his shoulder, offering him a tentative smile as seungkwan scolds you for not being around anymore.

there’s the brief small talk (“who are you here with?” — “how have you been?” — “are you still with that job?”) and then seungkwan melts away, claiming he has to find soonyoung immediately, leaving you and joshua alone on the edge of a dance floor.

“hey,” he says suddenly, jerking a thumb towards the door. “you want to get some air? catch up where i can actually hear you?”

you don’t really need to think about it, nodding and sending a text to your friends so they know where you are. by the time you two are outside, you’ve received a string of texts ranging from “tell him i say hi!” to “tell him that i’ll throw my heel at him if he hurts you!”

“so?” joshua turns to you with an expectant smile when you guys are finally under the coolness of the night air.

you lean against the wall, parroting the question back to him. “so?”

“you’ve been okay?”

a softer smile takes over your face. “yeah. yeah, i’ve been okay. but — hey, i heard you got promoted, big shot!”

“oh! yeah,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “i got the job.”

“i guess choi seungcheol had nothing on you in the end,” you say, referring to his rivalry with his co-worker, the one he used to affectionately complain about every few days.

you remember that well. he’d launch himself onto you, shifting his head into your lap, talk to you about his day while you played with his hair. speaking of which — “you dyed your hair again,” you observe. it’s a rich, deep red colour, and it suits him well.

“i did! you like?” he runs a hand through it, and then pauses. “hey, remember when you dyed my hair?”

“do i?” you burst out laughing. “fuck, i was so worried i was going to mess it up!”

“you did great,” joshua consoles.

(he was always good at that, comforting you with the smallest things. and the bigger things, too. he was just good, in general.)

your phone vibrates a couple times in your hand. you glance at it, and then at joshua, but before you can even open your mouth, he asks for you — “need to go?”

you offer him an apologetic smile. “sorry. you know how drunk mina gets.”

“has she threatened me with her heels yet?”

“about five times, and it might get to a sixth soon.”

joshua blinks, smiles, and then his brown eyes soften. “god. i am sorry, you know?”

you predicted this, and you wave it off immediately. “don’t be. it was our time, right? couldn’t be changed.”

like the tide. you couldn’t stop it — neither of you could — no matter how much you wanted to.

there was a time limit on the two of you, and that’s how it was meant to be.

“we’re okay, though?” joshua’s eyes, soft and sweet and concerned and a little bit guilty, gaze at you.

you can’t help it; you hug him, carefully. “we’re okay,” you murmur into his shirt — muffled, but by the way his arms tighten around you slightly, you know he’s heard.

you pull away, and smile. “we had something good. as long as you don’t forget that, then we’re okay.”

joshua squeezes your hands, a smile on his face.

“i won’t forget,” he breathes. “we’re okay.”

an after 3748929238 years i’m back!!! i apologise for the wait, especially to may because she has been the SWEETEST in dealing w me and my fickle decisions and late response <3

JAKE 230706 WEVERSE LIVE