Vampires Pt. 2 | Pt. 1

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

— 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.

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