Pairing: Changbin X Reader

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Wordcount: 12,944 words.

Includes: Fem!Reader, babysitter!Changbin, MILF!Reader. Age gap between characters (male character is said to be 24, whilst reader's age is not explicited but there's an 11 years gap between the two). It's kind of an important topic throughout the plot, but it's not the main topic. Alcohol consumption. Smut warnings under the cut.

Author's Note: Finally, I finished this Changbin fic I've been work for an embarrassing amount of time. I had fun writing this, but right in the middle I kind of started questioning my existence and I started feeling conflicted about how I was portraying everything. I'm not sure if I'm satisfied, but I had a good time so I guess that's what counts. I know for a fact that there are a couple of grammar mistakes and misspelled words. I promise I'll fix them all soon. In the mean time, enjoy! Also, as usual, please remember that english is not my first language.

If you wish to support my work further, you can leave a reblog/ask/ comment. I also have a ko-fi, in case you want to (and are able to) leave me a tip. As a broke, college student I will highly appreciate it (the job hunting it's definitely not going anywhere, anytime soon. I'm doing my best though!). As I'm based in México, even a dollar helps me tons.

Smut warnings: Perv!Changbin, panty sniffing, jerking off to the smell of used underwear. Non-consensual recording in the beginning (but not really, you'll find out why). Dirty talk, mentions of masturbation (f. and m.), oral sex (f. and m. receiving), mentions of spit/drool, brief pussy slapping, overstimulation, impregnation fantasies (but it's not explicit between the characters), very mild humiliation/fantasies regarding humiliation, consensual recording of sexual activities, unprotected sex, creampie. Changbin talks lot about reader's ex-husband during the smut part so bear with him, it's his ego talking.

“You saw what?!”

Myeong’s high-pitched voice attracts a couple of stares from other people at the café, and you sulk into your spot at the sofa. If there's one person you trust in this world, whole-heartedly, it's her —your friend is good at keeping secrets, but she is not that great at being discreet.

Even so, she is the only one you can talk to about this. You didn't even tell your therapist yet, afraid you might get confronted in a not-so-friendly manner.

“Keep your voice down,” you insist, kicking her leg with your feet underneath the table. The short haired hisses and curses under her breath, but she doesn’t complain. Part of her feels like she earned it by being so loud. “And don’t make me repeat it again”.

“He did not,” Myeong’s eyes embody true shock as she stares right into you, her lips slightly parted while there's a blank expression all over her face. It starts regaining its true colors once her eyebrows quirk, and the corners of her lips turn into a hysterical smirk. “He did not!”

“Yes, he did,” you sigh, brushing a couple of strands away from your face before guiding the white, coffee mug to your lips, “And it’s all video-”.

“Shut up,” Myeong’s hand flies to her mouth and she covers it, repressing any urges to scream or laugh out loud. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I’m not,” you shrug your shoulders, “and it wasn’t just one video I found”.

 Myeong smacks her palm against her thigh, offering you a warm but teasingly smirk, “this might be the greatest day, ever”.

“This is not okay, Myeong,” there’s a lump in your throat that doesn’t go away, not even with all the sips you’ve taken from your coffee as of right now. The words are caught up in your throat, and you're afraid you might spill them if your friend spins the conversation to the wrong direction.

“How is this not okay?” The amusement in her eyes tells you that she is definitely watching the issue from another perspective. A perspective you know well, but that you no longer share, “he is clearly into you, I bet if you ask him to sleep with you he would do it right away, without thinking it twice”.

“He is a college student,” you emphasize, “and he is barely 24”. 

“So?” Myeong cocks an eyebrow. “It’s not illegal, is it?”

You roll your eyes.

“No, it is not illegal,” your friend smiles proudly when you prove her right, but her smile fades away as you start talking, “but it feels wrong”.

“You’re so boring sometimes, you know,” your friend snorts, taking a sip from her green tea. “When was the last time you got laid?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, actually it does,” the conversation is slowly spinning towards you, and you don’t like it. At the same time, you can’t help but answer every question Myeong has, hoping to get some clarity out of the dilemmas she is putting you through. “If you can look into my eyes and promise that your sexual life is satisfactory enough right now, I will let this go”.

Had you been a hell of a liar, you would've done just that —stare into her eyes and blatantly lie. But is it more embarrassing to lie about having a great sexual life and get caught, or admitting it has been practically non-existent ever since your divorce?

Your silence and crestfallen gaze speaks for themselves, and that sparks curiosity in Myeong.

“Because you do… have an active sexual life, right?” A group of older women passes by your table and stares judgingly, which prompts you to shush your friend. Her blank expressions turns into amusement again, and she pokes her tongue through her cheek. “Oh, my God!”

“Look, I don’t need it, okay?” You're not a good liar, but the frustration and the rising heat on your cheeks prompts you to talk without thinking. “I don’t fuck these days and I totally don’t care”.

“What a day!” Myeong scoffs with mirth, “and it is barely nine in the morning”. 

You pick at the hems of your blazer and don’t dare to look at her, at least not until she regains her composure.

“Oh my God,” she sighs again, taking a sip from her tea. “No, I see it, you definitely look like you haven't had sex in ages”.

“My sexual life is not up for discussion today,” you cut her short, rising your hand to catch the attention of a waiter not that far from your table, wanting to get another coffee refill. “But I really need to figure out what to do with the other thing I just told you about”.

“You’re such a prude,” your friend chuckles softly, “you can’t even say his name or address the situation as it happened —you caught him jerking off with your underw-”

“Don’t,” you stop her, glaring at the waiter that's just approaching you. He gets to your table and offers you both a bright smile, before asking if you need anything else. You hand him your coffee mug and ask for another refill, to which he nods compliantly.

You wish you could have elongated the time of his presence near you, to save you from Myeong's accusatory interventions, but there was little you could do when another table called him. After, the mischevious smile in your friend’s lips appeared again.

“So you caught Changbin jerking him in your bedroom, rubbing himself with a pair of your used panties,” you nod quietly, biting the insides of your cheek. There's something crude about the way she puts it, but that's exactly what happened. “What are you going to do about it? Fire him?”

“Yeah,” you agree, and furrow your eyebrows when Myeong shakes her head in disapproval. “Isn’t that the obvious thing to do in this situation?”

“You said he was great, though”.

“He is great at babysitting,” you let out a frustrated sigh, brushing your hair away from your face, “he is so accessible, and Jihun adores him”.

“And you’re still going to fire him?” Myeong asks with a look of disbelief.

“Isn’t that what I am supposed to do?”  The sudden raise of your voice attracts a couple of stares, to which Myeong responds with a friendly smile. You quickly mutter a quick sorry to your table neighbors and other passerbys, and lower the volume of your voice. “The idea of not firing him just doesn't make any sense”.

“Alright, let’s say you fire him,” Myeong takes a deep sigh and leans back against his seat, “do you already have someone in mind for the job?”

You chew on your bottom lip as you shake your head.

“If you’re going to fire him, you better start there,” your friend rightfully points out. “Once you have a new babysitter, then you can fire him. If not, you’re at risk of being left empty-handed”.

“Yeah, but-” you hesitate. The idea of having to look for someone else to take care of Jihun it’s incredibly overwhelming. What if you can’t find someone like Changbin all over again? What if you end up stuck with a shitty, irresponsible babysitter that Jihun might not even get along with? “God, I just don’t want to fire him”.

“Then don’t!”

“But-”

“Jesus, you’re so complicated,” Myeong huffed, taking one last sip of her tea cup before putting it to the side. “What is so wrong about him jerking off in your room? That he did it with your dirty underwear?”.

You keep quiet for a second, which your friend takes advantage of to continue ranting.

“I mean, that’s a little bit nasty, but is it weird of me to say that it’s kind of hot too?”

“It’s a perverted behavior,” you murmur under your breath, but Myeong picks it on very clearly.

“It turned you on and you know it,” she scoffs. “We have going at this for over an hour, and not once I’ve sense any kind of disgust from you when you talk about it. You’re scared, and awkward, and probably confused, but disgusted? I just don’t see it, no matter how hard you try to portray just that”.

Damned be Myeong, who knows you a bit too well for your own liking.

“What were you thinking when you saw those videos?” the short-haired asks you, stretching her arms and placing both palms on top of the table. “Or better yet, what did you feel?”.

She doesn’t know, you tell yourself, but the heat rising up to your cheeks and the sudden throb between your legs betrays you. Myeong might not know what you thought or felt, but you do —no matter how much you try to repress or deny it, the ghost of your hand trailing from your tummy to your aching core is still there.

“Nothing,” you reply, not daring to share the truth.

“Nothing?” Myeong challenges you, “you mean to tell me that it didn’t spark anything inside you?”

It sparked everything inside you, but you couldn’t get yourself to admit it. The whole situation makes you feel silly, and you can't understand why.

“Alright,” she exhales, scratching her head. “I’m going to be pretty straight forward with you”.

Myeong isn't known for her tact, so you're preparing in advance for whatever it is that she has to say. Whether you want her blunt honesty or not, it is perhaps what you need to get yourself out of this dilemma, “shoot”.

“We’ve been friends for what? 18 years?” you simply nod, unsure where this is going to take her. “We went to college together, we finished our majors and graduated on time. I was there on your wedding day, and the day Jihun was born. I was also there the day you decided to get a divorce”.

“Thank you for the quick trip to memory lane,” you joke.

“What I’m saying is that we have known each other for years, I obviously can tell when you’re lying,” she cocks her eyebrows and gives you an accusatory look, but continues on with her speech. “I also can tell how much you’ve changed since that useless marriage of you, and I hate it. You’re far from being the confident woman I once knew”.

“What does that has any to do with the Changbin situation?” A nervous smile peeks through the corners of your lips.

“Please,” she spits, “it has everything to do with it”.

She keeps quiet for a second and stares at you long enough before continuing, almost as if she's trying to get answers from you telepathically. Not that she needs them.

“What are you so scared of?” Myeong queries. Whether she asked it as a rhetorical question or not, you do have an answer of your own. A bunch, actually. “Why did you stop being a woman, and got stuck with the role of a divorced, single mother?”

You know it wasn't her intention, but the stinging feeling of your tears pricking in the corner of your eyes tells you that she has hit a weak spot. Something you weren't expecting to talk about on a Thursday morning during breakfast at a fucking café downtown.

“I know you like him, Changbin,” the way she stitched those words together makes you feel eerie, but the statement is not far from the truth —you don't picture a long life together, and you don't necessarily want anything serious, but you still like him. You're attracted to him, and you've known that for a while now. “It’s really obvious”.

“How come?” The question is stupid, but you really ought to know why.

“I’m your best friend,” she smiles triumphantly, “I just know”.

Your cup of coffee it’s getting empty, and there’s only a couple of minutes before 10. You invited Myeong to grab some breakfast in hopes of finding a solution to your conflict, yet a ton of more questions were awakened.

You can’t tell if that is a good thing or a bad one.

“It’s obvious he feels attracted to you too,” Myeong tells you, getting you out of your own thoughts. “Perhaps it wasn't the best way to find out, but you can clearly tell he has a thing for you”.

“So?”

“So,” she exhales, grabbing her purse from the side of the table. “Do with that information as you please. Jesus, woman, I can’t solve every single one of your mind riddles for you!”

“You’re saying I should tell him?” you rush to ask before she stands up. “You know, about the videos”.

“I’m saying: do whatever the fuck you want for once,” Myeong smiles. “If you want to get fucked by him, go ahead. If you don’t, then you don’t and that’s it”.

“You’re not helping me,” you huff, crossing your arms against your chest while leaning back.

“No one will be able to help you if you don’t let them,” with a tilt of her head, and her lips pressed together in a straight line, Myeong chooses her next words carefully. “What happened with Kyungho doesn't have to keep on taking tolls in your life, especially in your womanhood”.

She extends her arm on the table and looks out for your hand, holding it carefully while giving you a reassurance gaze.

“It’s difficult,” you exhale, fixing your eyes in the way she rubs your hand with her thumb.

“I know,” the short-haired nods. “But you too deserve to have fun, to meet people and feel desired. It is not wrong, you know?”

After your divorce, picturing you with someone became impossible. At first, and for obvious reasons, you didn't feel like putting yourself out there. You had way too much on your plate at the time to even consider dating, and the idea never really crossed your mind. Your work and Jihun occupied most of the space in your mind and concerns, and there was very little room for you and your needs.

As you got a hang of everything, you started to realize the pitch feeling of dissatisfaction inside your chest —there was something you were missing, and you couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it was.

Love, with Jihun and your loved ones you had plenty. Money, just enough to live a pretty decent life.

But sex? There was nothing there to tell.

“I’ve got to get going,” Myeong murmurs, squeezing your hand one last time before sliding her chair backwards, “don’t get into your head too much, alright?”

“I can’t promise you that,” you tell her, standing up from the sofa while grabbing your purse while giving her an unapologetic smile. 

The rest of the day you’re spending it thinking about your conversation with Myeong earlier, and the videotapes you found the night before. Most of the things she said are lingering in your head, presenting itself one after the other, like a hook of an essay meant to capture your attention and lure you into all that reading the rest.

She gives you a soft pat on your head and returns the smile, her warmth giving you some sense of comfort, “just try”.

You don’t want to read the rest of your own thoughts. You don't want to acknowledge them, nor deal with them, but Myeong’s voice is still ringing loud and clear in your ears.

What were you thinking? What did you feel? Had you been brave enough, you would have told her everything, from the very start and without gaps. You would have told her about the way your heart started to race as you realized what was hapenning in the tapes, how you stood awake all night watching them, examining them, touching yourself to them.

Now that you think about it, you're not any better than him.

Paperwork is accumulating at the edge of your desk, but you can't begin to care. Time is passing, but you’re still stuck in last night without being able to move forward or backward. Your mind is latched to the sight of him throwing his head back while he wraps your underwear around his cock, the way he starts increasing the movement of his wrist once he is close. Your mind is latched to everything you saw, and all the tiny details you might have missed.

The dates of each footage spin in your head, trying to find a pattern but, at the same time, making no sense. There is, however, a common denominator every single time —Changbin only visits your room when the apartment was empty. It doesn’t happens too often, though, but it has happened a couple of times in the past months. For instance, that April morning you took Jihun to his doctor’s appointment and forgot to inform Changbin, who showed up to your apartment right on time, but found it empty.

It had been a rabbit's hole, the stupid CCTV you haven't gotten rid of despite not being useful anymore. Before yesterday, you didn't even remember you had it —it had been Kyungho’s idea, to install a closed-circuit television system after a spate of burglaries at the apartment complex. At the time, you didn't protest because you thought it was convenient. But, eventually, the burglaries stopped.

After that, the system never came in handy until Wednesday, when you thought you had lost a usb with important work documents. You looked for it everywhere —the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and even Jihun's playroom.

“You know, kids love small, shiny things,” Myeong had told you over the phone, trying to ease your frustration, “maybe he took it and it’s hidden somewhere in between his toys, I don’t know”.

After a relentless search, and an agonizing feeling of having screwed up, you remembered the CCTV. Although its purpose was to surveill and not precisely find missing things you took a leap of faith —you were too desperate to find it, that the idea didn’t seem too crazy.

So you sat down and searched for the date in which you last remember ever using the USB. Tuesday, this week. You thought doing some home office was a good idea, so you took your stuff home and, after pouring a glass of red wine, you laid down in your bed and started reviewing some documents you have to deliver on Friday.

A glass of red wine became two, and soon you found yourself feeling sleepy. You could clearly see in the CCTV footage how you packed your things, placed your laptop inside your bag, took the glass and bottle of wine to the kitchen and returned to keep on getting your stuff ready for the following morning. Then, some frames of you walking towards one of your drawers, opening and closing them right away.

Perhaps you had been too sleepy, and the alcohol ingested did its thing, but you found the USB right there, where the footage showed it —inside one of the drawers. You smiled triumphantly as you packed the device where it should have been, inside your bag, and returned your attention to the television screen in front of you. What a useless purchase, you thought as you saw the amount of videos stored, but felt glad nonetheless about it becoming in handy.

You could have stop right there. And really, you should have.

But one thumbnail in particular captured your attention. It dated from Wednesday, last week, and it showed you an image of a man walking inside your room, the same 3 frames repeating themselves over and over again.

Wednesday, last week, had been the parent-teaching meeting at Jihun’s preschool. It took longer than expected, so Changbin had to wait at your place for around 20 minutes before you came home. The timestamp in the bottom right corner of the thumbnail confirmed so —it had been recorded at 12:06 p.m., when he was by himself.

Said footage lead you to look for another.

And another.

And another.

[18:01 p.m., You: Do you think I can have a word after your shift today?]

And at one point, you didn’t know who had sunk lower —Changbin, for what he did, or you, for liking it.

[19:23 p.m., Babysitter: Sure. Is everything alright?]

[19:41 p.m., You: Yeah, there’s just something I want to discuss with you]

Myeong's words still resonate inside your mind and, as you park your car outside the apartment complex, you realize you don't have a plan. You had been brave enough to let Changbin know there's something you want to talk about, but you didn't think anything further from it. You just don’t know how to bring the topic up, because there is a lot to explain from your side.

“Yeah, I have cameras all over the apartment and I saw you getting off to my used underwear,” you rehearse, but even the choice of words sounds extremely creepy. You're glad the windows of your car are rolled up, because if any passerby hears you they would’ve give you a perturbated look.

You take a deep breath, grip the steering wheel of your car and go at it again. “Listen, Changbin, I found some videos- fuck!”.

You feel conflicted, and guilty. And a part of you makes you want to believe it is because of the whole CCTV issue, that you should've told him beforehand when he started working with you. But, prior to this week, you didn't even remember it. You didn't avoid telling him out of mischief, but because it was so irrelevant it never cross your mind.

However, the other part of you knows it is because of what you did watching those tapes. You know about the pooling wetness in your underwear as you remember the images of Changbin stroking himself, wrapping your used underwear around his cock and fucking himself with it. You know about the countless times you made yourself come last night while thinking about him, about how good he smells and how much of a gentleman he is.

You know about your attraction towards him, and that is something you can deny to everyone but yourself.

After not being able to find the correct words to use tonight, you leave your car and walk towards your apartment with frustration penting up inside of you. Because, really, what was the worst thing that could happen? Him, quitting his job? At some point, you voted for that solution to this situation. So the more you think about it, the more you expose yourself —the worst thing that can happen is nothing at all.

You take one last deep breath before typing the password in the keypad of your door, and the first thing you're welcomed with is a delicious smell you're not used to.

“I’m home,” you announce, hanging your bag and blazer on the coat rack. These days you're not greeted by Jihun as you usually were. Now that he started his second year at kindergarten, he wakes up earlier than usual and, therefore, goes to bed early too. His absence doesn’t surprise you tonight, but the fact that Changbin isn’t sitting at your living room as he usually does, do. “Changbin?”

“Right here, Miss,” a voice from the kitchen speaks.

You find him standing in front of the kitchen stove, not facing you, wearing some thight jeans, a light blue shirt and your white apron. In the dinner table there's a plate and a glass, along with a bottle of wine you can't quite recognize. Did he bring it himself?

“What is this?” you ask. There's not irritation or annoyance in your voice, but rather confusion and curiosity.

The corner of his lips rise in a soft, proud smirk. One that you can’t capture due to the position he is in. “Dinner,” he tells you, maneuvering a couple of kitchen utensils on his pan. “I figure you might be hungry, and so I decided to cook some dinner for you”.

Static, you stare at his back for endless seconds until his voice brings you back to reality yet again.

“I cooked us some bibimbap, Jihun was craving some,” Changbin explains. “There were a couple of leftover ingredients”.

“Oh,” you murmur, walking cautiously towards the dining table, “you shouldn’t have”.

“It’s no big deal,” Changbin reassures you, getting your dish ready.

You watch him as he moves around the kitchen, and that conversation with Myeong comes back to your mind —he is a college student, 11 years younger than you are. But the more you look at him, the more he doesn't look like one.

His facial features, the way he walks and carries himself. The way he talks and expresses his thoughts, his voice, his gaze... Everything is so appealing to you. He is even more of a man than half men your age, you often think.

“Almost done, Miss,” he tells you, and the title which he uses to address you suddenly weighs heavy on your mind.

“How was Jihun today?” you ask, clearing your throat and preventing any other thoughts from resurfacing.

“He was good,” Changbin walks towards the table and offers you the dish, not without pouring a bit of wine on your glass. “I helped him with his homework, and he asked me if he could watch television afterwards. We spent almost all day at his playroom”.

“Thanks,” you mutter under your breath as he sets the table ready for you. “Is he already in bed?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I hope the dinner is good by the way”.

You give him a quick smile, and thank him again. The dish looks great, and it smells just as good, but you can’t get yourself to take one bite from it. Or at least not when you’re this nervous.

So you decide to start now.

“Changbin,” you sigh, feeling even more conflicted about such gesture. His name it's all that's needed for you to capture his attention, which you do almost immediately. “Please, sit down”.  

He follows compliantly, taking a seat right in front of yours. You're not quite sure how to begin, but you go for it anyways.

“What’s going on?” he asks you, with an innocent smile that gets a little under your nerves. “What was the thing you wanted to discuss?”

You clear your throat and eye the glass of wine in front of you. Silly move, a part of you thinks once you chug it down in one sit. You look nervous, and he can tell. Ironically enough, you're not the one who should be in such a state. You weren't caught doing something wrong, and your job wasn't at risk. So why do you feel cornered, just like he is supposed to feel?

“How do I even say this,” you mumble to yourself, exhaling the sweet taste of wine. It tastes nothing like the ones you usually consume, but it is nice. You know it isn't yours, but you don't dare to ask him the reason behind this odd, unexpected gift. “Jesus”.

He looks at you with empty eyes, that seem to be trying hard to figure out what's going on inside your mind.

“Look, I’m just going to say it like it happened,” Changbin is sitting right in front of you, but it seems as if you’re engaging on a conversation alone with yourself. You hardly recognize his presence there, only fixing your eyes to the now empty glass of wine. “And I know I should’ve told you this when I first met you and hired you as Jihun’s babysitter, but I didn’t because I completely forgot about them and I honestly didn’t think much of it”.

There's a short silence between the two of you, one you use to organize your thoughts, and then continue.

“There’s a CCTV system in the apartment,” you say, without beating around the bush. Saying it out loud, for you, sounds like a shocker, but Changbin doesn't seem fazed at all. “There’s cameras on every room, and they have been there for a while now, longer than you have been working for me”.

After you tell him that, he leans back against his seat and his body relaxes, almost as if he was expecting something else. Something worse.

As if what you’re just about to say isn’t wrong enough.

“I saw some stuff,” you confess, still not daring to look at him.

You hate how this whole interaction is being. You hate how small you feel, even though you're the one calling him out, the one supposed to be in control. You hate how he looks at you, with that heavy gaze of his that secretly whispers an I know what you did. You hate how the eleven-year gap does not cross your mind because in front of him you feel so defenseless.

You hate how you can't even scold him for what he did because you didn't dislike any second of it.

Changbin smiles after a couple of seconds in silence, finding amusement in the way you get flustered as you try to keep your speech going.

“I know about the cameras,” he tells you, and your nervous countenance suddenly drifts into one of confusion. “I’ve known for a while. They’re not hard to spot”.

There's rage within you, probably because of how much time you invested being nervous just for him to shrug it off so lightly.

“Oh,” you blink a couple of times, still in awe.

It takes you a while, but the realization hits you. If he was aware of the CCTV system the whole time, that means…

“Then you know what I saw,” it’s not a question, it’s an affirmation. Hostility lingers in your voice, but that is not enough to alarm Changbin, who licks his lips and tiltes his head at you with a serious deadpan.

“Miss,” he tells you. “What did you see?”

You gulp loudly and finally get the courage to look at him, with an incredulous expression that calls out his cynism. “Do you really want me to say it out loud?”

Another silence dawns up on you, and you're not quite sure how to follow the conversation without his participation, as he isn't really saying anything. So, to save you time and awkwardness, you just let the words freely fall from your mouth.

“I saw footages of you, inside my room,” you spit, seeing if that is enough to get a reaction from him, but realizing you failed again. Not that it surprises you, so you just keep going. “I saw everything, every video there was. I don’t- I’m not sure why I did it, but I did”.

You're reminded of Myeong, again, and how she asked you to do whatever the fuck you wanted for once.

“So, why?” you ask, staring deep into him. You’re not angry, nor disappointed, you also don’t seem grossed out, so Changbin smiles triumphantly. He has gotten away with it. “If you knew there was cameras, why risk doing that knowing I could easily find out?”

“Because I wanted you to find out,” he simply replies, as if the answer wasn’t completely obvious to both parties.

“Yeah, but why?”

“I wanted to end up right here,” Changbin explains, leaning against the table while placing both of his elbows on it. “With you, confronting me about it”.

You look at him in disbelief, trying to give his answers some sense but failing miserably.

“You’re not thinking about firing me,” he continues, looking for your gaze underneath your shock. “It would’ve been the first thing to say”. 

It seems as if the roles have been reversed, and you're now the one who isn't speaking, despite you being the one who initially brought the topic up.Right now you want to listen to him and try to understand what he is meaning with all of this, so you stay quiet.

“So if you’re not firing me, what is it that truly you wanted to discuss?”

The soft smirk he offers you makes you feel dizzy, and you find yourself holding your breath. As if a deep exhale it's going to betray you, to sell you out and reveal your deepest fantasies.

And quickly, you realize can’t fulfill Myeong’s promise, because you’re already too far gone inside your head.

“It was- not okay,” you sigh. “You’re just- way too young for me. I have an exhusband, and a child. I’m a fucking mother, Changbin”.

“So?” he asks you with one of his brows slightly raised. Defiantly, intimidating, ready to prove you wrong. “Does that mean I can't find you attractive?”

The sudden confession makes your heart feel as if you were on top of the roller coaster, despite Myeong bringing the possibility to the table earlier today.

“You shouldn’t,” you cut him short. “There’s nothing I can offer you. You should seek women your age”.

“But I want you,” he makes it very clear, with no hesitation in his voice. There’s a table between you two, but it is not enough of a barrier to prevent you from feeling him close. “It’s you who I think about when I jerk off, not them”.

There’s another silence that accompanies the realization sinking. Changbin is attracted to you, and he does jerks off thinking about you. You shouldn’t feel flattered, but you do, and it’s dangerous.

It has been a while since someone lusted after you like this.

“Changbin,” you swallow thickly, but not even that small amount of saliva does anything to ease the dry feeling in your throat. “You’re too young”.

He gives a smile that hides cockiness behind it, almost as if he wanted you to bring that up.

“I can treat you better than men your age, in every way,” the tip of his tongue grazes against his cheek in an arrogant manner that don’t really hate. The attitude looks good on him. “Even better than your exhusband”.

The heat is rising up to your cheeks, and it feels awkward. Your thighs are squeezing together, too, and you pray for him to not notice any crevice of all that you are trying so hard to hide.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep talking about this,” you mumble, standing up from your seat while he does the same. “Go home, and I’ll see you on Monday”. 

“So you’re really not going to fire me,” Changbin murmurs, dangerously approaching you. “Hm?”

You’re too close to spit it out. To give in, tell him that he can do with you whatever he wants. You’re too close to break in front of him, just like he is to pressing his body against yours.

“No,” you inhale, anticipating the contact of his hand against your hips.

“Is there a good reason behind such a decision?”

You swallow thickly, and think about how long it has been since the last time you felt someone’s body against yours —it has been ages, to say the least.

“I-” you can’t think straight. The mere touch of his hand against your clothes, and his deep gaze staring right through you is enough to overwhelm you. “Jihun likes you too much, I can’t- I don’t want to hire anybody else”.

“And you?” Changbin asks you, tilting his head. “Do you like me?”

What is the point of resisting? Now that his lips are too close to yours, and you're aching to feel his hips pressed against your body, you no longer care about anything you did a couple minutes ago. You like Changbin. You like his body, his gentleness, his sympathy. You like how attractive and confident he is, how he stares at you, how he desires you.

You like him. Isn’t that enough to give in?

“Just admit it,” he whispers, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek, “and I’ll take care of the rest”.

“What’s going to happen if I do?” you ask him, nibbling at the skin of your lower lip.

“You know what is going to happen,” Changbin scoffs, so softly it sounds like a melody rather than a teasing laugh. “Didn't the videos gave you enough hints about how desperate I am for you?”

You're not used to him being this straight-forward. Maybe you are a prude, because the way he is talking to you right now is making it difficult to hold the eye contact, and it's making your skin warmer.

Changbin is quick to pick up on that, on the way you can hardly look at him while he speaks, and the way you swallow thickly with each words that leaves his lips —he makes a mental note to remember it later.

“Tomorrow,” you tell him and, for the first time tonight, you feel the air actually getting to your lungs. “Jihun is spending the weekend with his father”.

He smiles cockily against your lips, leaning in further to place a quick peck on them. A quick peck that leaves you craving for more, that makes your chest feel heavy and your limbs numb.

“See you tomorrow, then”.

You can’t stop eyeing your phone screen, thinking that staring at the clock for too long will prevent it from letting time pass.

You've given in. And there's no turning back.

It’s 18:41. And it has been 18:41 for the past hour or so. The seconds are passing excruciatingly slow, and that does nothing to ease your anguish.

You tried to catch up on all the paperwork you left undone yesterday, went and lunch somewhere else rather than the company’s cafeteria to kill some time, and even texted Myeong asking her if she was busy because you wanted to talk to her. Myeong hasn’t texted you back yet, but the two other activities weren’t enough to distract you from the inevitable.

18:41, still. Anticipation is killing you, what have you gotten yourself into?

You can't shake off the feeling of his lips against yours, no matter how minimal and quick the contact was. It wasn’t a kiss in all the sense of the word, it was just a peck. Yet that is enough for your mind to keep on repeating the moment on loop, making you feel the pressure on your lips, despite him not being anywhere around you right now.

You glance at your phone screen again.

18:42. You swallow thickly.

The sudden buzz of your phone inside your hand makes your heart skips a beat, and you hold it right against your chest. Please let it be Myeong, you pray, feeling a pit in your stomach and the sudden sensation of having to visit the restroom. Please let it be Myeong.

[18:42, Myeong: Just got out of a meeting. What’s up?]

[18:42, You: I’m meeting Changbin after work]

Not even two seconds after pressing the sent button, your phone is buzzing repeatedly and Myeong's image is being shown right at the center of the screen.

“What?!” Her squealing is what welcomes you after you pick up the call. She screams so loud you have to move your phone away from your ear, allowing her to scream as much as she wants without compromising one of your senses. “Oh my fucking God!”

It takes her a while to regain her composure, but she gets there. After panting and letting out sighs of amusement, Myeong gives you the word.

“I’m nervous,” you admit. “I’m so fucking nervous, I feel like a teenager”.

“Of course,” Myeong sighs, and you don’t have to see her to know she is probably smiling. “Isn’t that expected? It has been a while since, you know, you put yourself out there”.

“Yeah, I know,” you murmur, biting the skin around your nails. “But God, I feel so pathetic”.

“Once you're being dicked down you're definitely going to forget that feeling, don't worry,” your friend jokes with a teasing chuckle, and you huff under your breath. “Or you can ask him to make you feel that way even more, if you’re into that”.

A quick train of thoughts passes through your mind, but Myeong's voice snaps you back into reality again.

“You don't have to feel nervous,” she continues. “It’s just sex. It's not like you haven't had it before”.

“Why am I even making such a big deal out of this?” You let out a frustrated sigh, and lean back against your office chair.

“You’re getting too much into your own head, again,” Myeong scolds you. “I’m praying he can get you out of there”.

“We’ll see,” your lips press into a thin line, and the thoughts that were pushed away by Myeong resuface again. “I have to go, my desk is a mess and I need to tidy it up before I leave”.

It’s part true, your desk is a mess. But you don’t think you can organize it in under 10 minutes, let alone do it while thinking about Changbin. So your say your goodbyes, hang up and stare at the glass doors that lead to your office for a bit too long.

What is Changbin like in bed?

You didn’t ask him, but it’s rather obvious he has a couple experiences of his own. You have some too, but none of them are worth telling —just normal sex, with a little bit of foreplay and, luckily, some cuddles in the end. Nothing wrong with that, but your experiences weren't nearly as fascinating as some you've heard over the past years.

The clock on your phone screen captures your attention, and you realize you can't dwell in your own thoughts too much.

18:58.

Despite knowing the password to the door keypad, Changbin waited for you to let him know you were already at the apartment to finally show up, wearing some tight jeans, and a plain black t-shirt.

Technically, you can leave your office now.

Upon arriving home, you opted for taking a shower and wear much more comfortable clothes.

They aren’t sexy, nor luring. They are just your regular pijamas, ones that make you feel comfortable and aren't as awkward as those work skirts that makes you feel like your stomach it's all the way up to your chest.

They are just your pijamas, but Changbin’s gaze and the soft smirk that peeks from the corners of his lips tells you that he likes them.

“Do you want some wine?” You ask him, just as he follows you around the living room.

He gets the sense that you might need a glass, so he agrees. You grab the bottle of wine he brought yesterday, along with two glasses, and join him in the couch, sitting right next to him while leaving the stuff on top of a small coffee table. Not having a whole table as a barrier feels kind of weird now, and you sigh loudly when you take into account how close you really are from him.

“Thank you, by the way,” you mumble, pouring him some wine. “For the dinner, yesterday. I ate it after you left, it was really good”.

He offers you a soft smile, and you hand him the glass. Is this too formal? you start thinking. Why would I be drinking some wine, on a Friday afternoon, with the college student who babysits my son?

But then again, you’re about to get fucked by him too. So moral questionings doesn’t really matter this time.

“You’re welcome,” Changbin coos. “I’d be happy to cook something else for you another time”.

Another time, the words resonate in your head over and over again. Will this happen another time, too? What will things be like on Monday, for example, when he shows up for work? Will things be weird, or will he be casual about it? What happens if you soon realize it was a mistake?

You’re getting too much into your own head, again, so you clear your throat and shake your head.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, his lips tinted with the cherry color of the wine. The sight makes you want to lean in and kiss him again, to taste the sweet flavor off his lips, but you’re not brave enough to make the first move.

“I’m just nervous,” you admit, staring at the glass between your hands. “It’s weird that we both know why you are here”.

Changbin lets out a soft scoff.

“And?”

“It feels odd, you know?” You lick your lips. “I don't know what to say, or where to begin. I'm not rushed to get into it, it's just... I don't know what the fuck to do”.

“You don’t need to do anything,” he reassures you, taking one last sip from the wine before putting his glass on the table again. “Why don’t you leave everything to me, hm?”

You gulp loudly and nod, unsure of what that means. But either way, you feel relieved.

He places his hand on your naked thigh, and then guides it a little bit further up. It’s a suggestive touch, but not obsecene —still, you feel your breath hitching. You don't even bother to try and hide your reaction, because the proud smile in his face tells you that he noticed it.

“Come here,” he whispers, guiding his available hand to softly grip your chin and turning it to face him. He doesn’t give you time to process the action, and just crashes his lips into yours. It starts like a peck, but when you part your lips and invite his tongue in, it turns into something else.

Changbin smiles against your lips, again, a proud smile. You can feel his soft scoff when he does so, right before losing yourself in the kiss. A kiss that tastes like wine and mint, that is making your thighs squeeze together even with his hand almost in between them, and that has you gasping for air when you realice you’re running out of breath.

He lets go of you to breathe, but kisses you right after without losing any time. You don’t get to complain because you’re dying for him to kiss you again, so you just take all his lips are offering you.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this,” he murmurs in between kisses. The hand that was forcing your head against his suddenly leaves the sides of your face and travels all the way to your hips, and you instinctively shift your position on the couch until you’re on top of him.

He kisses you one last time on your lips before descending to your neck and chest, peppering kisses all over your naked skin and nibbling at the flesh of your most sensitive spots. You latch your fingers against his dark locks, pulling him in further as you arch your back.

“Changbin,” you sigh, closing your eyes. He hums in response, and you continue, “it has been a while since I’ve been with someone”.

He smirks proudly against your skin and his cock gets even harder; there is something enticing about you being too unfamiliar with sex these days. Knowing that your ex husband, who you utterly despise now, was the last man to ever touch you, turns him on in unimaginable ways.

He has confidence in knowing that probably no man has ever made you feel the same way he is going to make you feel tonight.

“I don’t know why I am telling you this,” you exhale, your body instinctively grinding against his. You can feel some pressure between your legs, and you get wet just by knowing he is hard. Are you really this touch starved?

“You can tell me anything you want,” Changbin smiles, looking up to you with quite a gaze you hadn't seen before.

You whimper when you feel his lips too close to your breasts, and suddenly the clothes you’re wearing feel too uncomfortable. Not only that, but you take him at his word and your mouth starts talking on its own, without your brain knowing about it. Without making any sense. 

“I touched myself,” you sigh, looking down on him while he sucks the naked skin of your flesh. “When I found the videos, I touched myself while watching them”.

He let out a quiet chuckle, and his cock twitches at the sudden confession.

“Did you come?” his voice is low, and raspier than it usually is, “watching me stroke my cock with your underwear?”

You swallow thickly, loud enough for him to notice it. That makes him bring back the mental note he made yesterday, when he realized how receptive you are to dirty words.

“I bet you did,” he continues, and you feel your skin getting warmer with each thing he says. Not only that, but the way he is groping your ass and hips isn't helping you in keeping quiet.

“Y-yes,” it’s all you can answer before your words get muffle with your whines, and your hips acquire a pace of its own against his. “Fuck”.

“What where you thinking while watching those videos?” He removes one strap of your tank top and lets it hang around your arm, placing a kiss on the place that was occupied by it just now. “Tell me”.

There were plenty of thoughts roaming around your head as you watched every video, but there was one that predominated over the rest.

“I was thinking about you, eating me out,” even saying those words out loud makes you feel flustered, but you really can't begin to care. For some reason, the way he is looking at you just makes you want to tell him more, let him know about all the things you've thought. “I was- really, just thinking about having your face between my legs, kissing me and just- you know”.

His gaze darkens when you tell him that, and the fabric of his jeans against his crotch starts being unbearable. He can't spend any more time without knowing how you actually taste and smell, other than those used panties he has jerked off to.

At the same time, though, he wants to take his time with you. He doesn't want to rush anything. He doesn't want to jump straight into it. He wants to savor it, just like he spent doing it the past months when all he had was your underwear and the faint smell of cologne you always left around the apartment.

“Yeah?” he purrs in a way that makes your whole skin get cover in goosebumps. He sounds so good when he is aroused, you wonder if he sounds this nice when he is being pleasured.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I want- that”.

He stops himself for a while, and looks directly into your eyes.

“Do you want me to taste you?”

You nod almost immediately, and you think it's pathetic but Changbin finds it endearing how desperate you are. You really haven’t been touched in a while, he thinks.

“But first,” he guides his hands to the hems of your tank top, and he pulls it up higher as a way of motioning for you to take it off. You follow compliantly and raise it over your arms, discarding it somewhere next to the couch.

Changbin stares at your breasts, and then makes eye contact with you. He holds a teasing gaze that is making you look away timidly.

“Pretty,” he whispers, tracing the lace with the tip of his index finger.  “You wore this for me?”

You know he doesn't mean to embarrass you, but the way he is bringing it up makes you feel shy. What else were you supposed to wear? The sports bra and high-briefs you wear on a regular?

His fingers graze against the hems of the short’s waistband and he pulls them down slightly, only to find a pair of laced panties that match the bra. He chuckles softly, but cockily, and that only makes your skin get even hotter.

“Of course you did,” he murmurs, with such a teasing tone that you're not sure if you like it or you hate it. “What else have you done for me, hm?”

 You stare at him while he sneaks a hand inside your pijamas, between the fabric of your shorts and your underwear. Two of his fingers come in contact with your clothed pussy, sliding them along your slit while he quietly groans.

“All of this?” he asks you, getting his hand out of your shorts. His fingers are glistening underneath the dim lights of the living room, and you’re surprised at how wet his digits are —you can’t recall a moment in which someone has made your body react like that. “Just for me?”

He loses no time into guiding said fingers into his mouth, he loses no time guiding said fingers into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them off while letting out a soft groan. There's a faint taste of you in them, but it is not enough. Nothing will ever be enough other than tasting you himself, to drag his tongue against your pussy and have you coming all over himself.

So, with a quick movement, he switches the position yet again and sits you right on the couch, kneeling in front of you while he drags your shorts and underwear off of you.  

No matter how many times Changbin fantasized about this sight, none of those thoughts compared to the real you. The one in front of him right now, with his legs spread and his cunt soaked.

“Fuck,” he murmurs quietly and, for a second, fear fear washes upon him. What if he gets to finally taste you, and he loses control of himself? What if he comes in his pants right there? He is nearly about to come untouched, and he fears that your taste might trigger his release.

He wraps both of his arms under your thighs and pull you closer to him, making you slide against the couch in a much more comfortable position for you both.

“Is this what you thought about when you were touching yourself?” Changbin asks you, feeling his breath too close to your core that you’re desperate to pull him against it. “Having me between your legs like this?”

You nod eagerly, anticipating the contact of his wet lips against your pussy. He is so close, you can practically feel his nose brushing against your clit.

“Please,” you whimper, your hips grinding ever so slightly against nothing.You’re desperate for his touch, and he is just as desperate to touch you.

He looks at you, and then at the sight in front of him. Never in a thousand years Changbin thought he would have you all for himself. You, the woman of his wildest dreams, the mother of the kid he babysits as a side gig.

Changbin would be lying if the whole age gap situation didn't turn him on even more. It's not particularly the reason why he got so fixated on you, but it was definitely something that he couldn't ignore. You being older than him only fueled his desire to pleasure you, to prove to you that he is better than every man you can think of.

However, he thinks you're conflicted by it. The age gap. You were so reluctant to fall into his charms that you thought it had everything to do with the fact that he was way younger than you. Which partly, it was.

But truth is that the whole thing turns you on too, despite you trying to deny it to yourself.

“You smell so fucking good,” he whispers underneath his breath, digging his finger tips on the flesh of your thighs. Your heart is going at a thousand miles per hour, and you are impatient to feel him against you. So impatient you latch your fingers onto his hair, and guide him even closer to you, until his nose finally makes contact with your sensitive bud.

“Please,” you beg weakly, one more time.

And the next thing you feel, is his tongue lapping at your slit while the tip of his nose presses against your clit even harder, making you feel a weird but pleasant stimulation by doing so.

“God,” he groans against you, gripping your legs harsher. You can hear him moaning and hissing against your pussy, devouring it, licking and kissing every inch of it. He is kind of messy with it, but you adore it. “You taste- fuck, you’re so good”.

You arch your back against the couch, tightening your legs on either side of him as much as the grip he has on you allows you to.

“I want you to come all over me,” Changbin tells you, spitting all over his fingers and your pussy. “Show me how much you’ve thought about this”.

He then sinks his middle and ring finger inside your cunt, feeling your warmth and the way your walls clench around him. You’ve fucked yourself with your fingers, countless of times. But they can’t compare to the way his feel, how much thicker they are, how better they fill you up.

“Shit,” you murmur, furrowing your eyebrows and closing your eyes when Changbin’s tongue makes contact again with your clit, licking it and softly sucking on it while his fingers. “Just- like that”.

The noise his fingers make every time he thrusts them inside you, and your moans combined with his only send you closer to the edge, reminding you who is the man between your legs and how deliciously he is wrecking you.  

“Who would’ve thought we were going to end up like this, hm?,” Changbin groans, staring right at you while sucking on your clit. “With you practically grinding your pussy against my face in the living room of your apartment?”

You moan at his words, and keep on bucking your hips against him.

“Did your ex husband ever did this for you, right here?” he asks, and when he feels you clenching almost aggressively around his fingers he realices he’s just discovered something. “Did he taste you like this?”

Because of his job babysitting Jihun, Changbin is fully aware who Kyungho is. They know each other personally, and you've seen them engage in small talk every time Kyungho comes to pick up Jihun to spend the weekend with him.

You don’t see the point in thinking about your ex husband right now, but you find it hot when Changbin is the one to bring his name up.

“No,” you whine, gripping his hair with one of your hands while the other grasps the edge of the couch. “He didn’t”.

“Was he good?” Changbin asks, tilting his head at you. “Was he better than me?”

You shake your head, desperate to come, “n-no”.

“No? He wasn’t this good?” There’s a cocky tone in his voice, and you love it. You love how confident he is getting now that the topic is on the table, and because of how honest you’re really being. It is definitely true —your ex husband wasn’t this good at eating your pussy.

“No!” you gasp, feeling your orgasm getting closer and closer with each word that falls from his lips.

“Who would’ve thought,” he chuckles lowly, offering you a tempting smile, “that men your age can’t make you feel like I can”.

“F-fuck, Changbin,” you feel a spark of electricity that starts on your core and drifts all the way to your feet, making you tremble underneath his hold. You’re almost there, but for some reason you’re trying to hold it in.

As if you wanted to live in this feeling forever, in the sight of Changbin’s dark eyes staring right at you with a desire that you haven’t been able to find anywhere else, in any other man.

“Come for me,” he tells you, fucking you even faster with his fingers. “Make a mess, I need you wet for my cock”.

Him and his fucking dirty talk. It leaves you with no time to process anything, as you’re now coming undone for him, riding his fingers and grinding your hips against his palm while you try to hold tight to the couch, doing everything you can to endure the stimulation.

“Don’t run for me,” Changbin groans, forcing your legs open and holding your right in place. “I know you can take it”.

A sharp, painful moan escapes your lips and your body jolts right in its place, with him still between your legs. Waves and waves of pleasure wash upon you, debilitating you and making you feel dizzy. This is the hardest you've come, ever, and there's no doubt of that.

“C-changbin,” you whine, matching the slow pace of his thrusts with the movements of your hips. You're descending now from your high, and you're again looking forward to feel that ecstasy again.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, smearing your wetness with his fingers. He gives you a soft slap to your pussy that makes your body shakes, and he smiles at how overstimulated you are. “You’re so wet, my cock is going to slide right inside you”.

Your pussy clenches around thin air at the idea.

“N-not yet,” you tell him, and kiss him when he hovers over you to place a peck on your lips. He kisses you deeply again, fucking your mouth with his tongue, allowing you to taste your own orgasm from him.

“Not yet?” Changbin purrs, biting your lower lip and pulling it just enough for you to whine.

“I want to suck you off”.

As desperate as he is to bury his cock inside you, who is he to say no? It’s comically how it all happens too fast, but in the blink of an eye you’ve already swaped positions and he is now sitting on top of the mess you made on the couch, with his legs spread and his jeans unbuckled just enough to free his clothed bulge.

You kneel in front of him, and your pair of curious hands trace the silhouette of his erection over his underwear. With ease, you lower his clothes and free his hard cock, that is already leaking with precum and it’s warm to the touch. There are several, prominant veins that start at the base and fade right near the tip.

Fuck, it’s making your mouth water.

“Good enough?” he asks you, cockily. Perhaps you’re giving yourself away by the way you stare at him like it’s the first time you ever see a cock —it might be, because you can’t think of any other that’s just as appealing as his.

You just nod and grab it by the base, gripping it tightly while you guide your mouth from the top and all along it. It’s taking him a lot of effort not to bust right then and there, with your lips wrapped around his tip while your hand squeeze the base and part of his testicles.

“Swirl your tongue,” he purrs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Get it nice and wet, remember I’m fucking you with it later”.

Like Changbin, you prefer it messy. So you do as he asks you to, you spit on it and smear your own drool all over its length, not caring if you make a mess in the middle.

“You said it's been a long time since you've been with someone,” he groans, kicking his head back and closing his eyes. “But you're still so good at sucking cock. You didn't forget about that?"

It catches you by surprise, but you find yourself getting wetter at the comment. He is not necessarily implying anything, but the tint of humiliation it carries makes you aroused.

“I like that,” you gasp, breathing for air after having all of himself inside you. “I like it when you talk to me like that. It makes me feel kind of humiliated and I like it”.

It isn’t a shocker that his words have an effect on you —yesterday Changbin noticed how weak you are for dirty talk. However, it is a shocker how you trust him with that information, indirectly asking him to do it more.

“Aren’t you full of surprises,” he chuckles.  

Perhaps this conversation should’ve taken place earlier, when you two were having a glass of wine. You decided to just go for it, without talking about preferences, likes or dislikes.

It’s not too late to get to know each other, you think. Even when his cock is deep inside your throat and he already made you come once tonight.

“I’m just figuring it out,” you tell him, smacking the tip of his cock against your tongue. Had it been any other time, or any other setting, you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to talk openly about this. “There’s a lot of things I wish to try”.

His eyebrows are furrowed, and his half-lidded eyes are staring right at yours, with his lips parted and a couple of quiet groans escaping through them.

“Tell me about them,” he groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You stroke him softly, coating all his length with your drool and his precum. You can feel his cock twitching inside your fist, and you can also feel how his body spasms every time you squeeze him a bit too hard. You can tell he is close to coming, and you truly wouldn’t mind.

The thing is, you can’t wait to feel him inside you. So you wish to edge him just a bit because there’s something you want.

“Creampies,” you murmur, smiling shyly, while jerking him off. “Not just… creampies but- I want you to come inside me. Watch how it leaks out, knowing it was you who did it”.

You know you’ve hit a weak spot in Changbin when his hips buck against your fist, and he lets out a quiet whimper that shows just how needy he is for you.

He has thought about it, an insane amount of times. But Changbin isn’t in it just for the sake of a creampie, no. He wants to fill you up, completely. To hear you begging for his release, to wrap your legs around his waist and prevent him from pulling out.

Would that be a bit too much to bring up the first time you fuck?

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” he whispers, caressing the sides of your face before putting his thumb inside your mouth. “I want to fuck you right now”.

He stands up from the couch and you follow, feeling a bit confused about the sudden movements. You spent the past half hour or so sucking each other off in this couch, you thought you’d be fucking there too. But it seems as if he prefers a true bed over a couch, and you too, so you don’t say anything.

“This angle is better, right?” Changbin asks you once you’re in your room.

“Huh?”

“The camera,” he replies, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you closer to him. “its placed right above the television, in front of your bed isn’t it?”

You blink a couple of times, trying to understand what he’s all about. Perhaps you're too dizzy from your orgasm and the way his taste lingers on the tip of your tongue, but you're not following him. Still, you nod because he is right —the camera is right in front of your bed.

“I want to fuck you in front of it,” Changbin murmurs, and when the realization hits you can feel your knees going numb. “I want you to go back to this tape when you feel like having my cock inside those holes of you, and I want you to touch yourself watching us”.

You swallow thickly and feel your nipples hardening against his chest, whimpering when you feel the slightest stimulation.

He gives you one last kiss before guiding you into your bed, laying down as you watch how he strips for you.

The way his muscles keep on flexing as he takes off his clothes is hypnotizing. You can see every inch of his soft skin, every curve, every flexed part that demands your attention. You want him to fuck you while he’s hugging you tightly, to trap you between his arms and not allowing you to move.

You want him to use his strength to overpower you, to pin you down and fuck you mercilessly against your own bed.

A bed that you once shared with your ex husband, a bed that will now remind you of that time you fucked with a college student, way younger than you.

“Come here,” he whispers, grabbing your legs and just sliding you over the bed. He then crawls on top of you, positioning himself between your legs while you spread them wide open for him.

God, how much your body turns him on.

“You don’t want me to-”

“No,” you shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck when he leans over you. “Please don’t use a condom”.

 He bites his lower lip when he hears those words from you, and his mind spirals again into this silly fetish of him. Impregnation.

“You’ve wanted this all along, don’t you?” Changbin asks you, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time you think about me fucking you raw, letting me come inside you”.

Embarrassingly enough, it isn’t.

“I thought you said yesterday I was too young for you,” he pouts, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. Again, you shouldn’t feel aroused when you’re reminded about the elephant in the room, but you are. “Do you still think the same?”

 “Jesus,” you sigh, pulling him closer to you. “Don’t remind me”.

“Why not?” he teases you, leaving quick pecks on your cheeks and jaw. “You can’t accept the fact that it’s me who is making you feel this good? Someone that apparently is too young for you, but just made you come harder than your ex husband ever did?”

Again, you grind your hips when he says that.

“I’m starting to think you like me bringing him up,” he chuckles. “Every time I say something like that, you get more desperate”.

“It’s- not that,” you try to explain, arching your back against him. “I don’t- know why it turns me on when you say things like that. When you remind me is you who’s between my legs, someone who is not supposed to”.

“Someone who is not supposed to?” he murmurs, leaving a trail of kisses from your cheeks, along your jaw and into the crook of your neck. “Miss, I know we've thought about this since the day you hire me for the babysitter position”.

The low tone of his voice, and the way he whispers such things against your ear is making you go insane. You need him inside you, and you need him to stop talking if you wish to elongate your orgasm as much as you can.

“Or are you going to deny it?” You don’t answer, which only proves him right. “Don’t go around saying we shouldn’t be fucking, because that’s something you’ve wanted since we met”.

It's only after he finishes when you feel a harsh, sharp thrust of his hips around you, and a sudden stretch that's both painful and pleasant at the same time. He sinks his hips against yours, and his cock bottoms out inside you.

“Fuck,” you groan, digging your nails deeper into the flesh of his biceps.

“You know, that pussy of yours did a good job at coming,” he groans through gritted teeth. “It slipped right inside”.

You moan at his words and spread your legs further, wrapping them around his hips. Changbin gives you a couple of times to get used to his girth, and only starts moving when you ask him to.

“It feels so-,” you want to speak, but it’s practically impossible —you’re too distracted by the feeling of his cock stretching you out. “Shit, you feel so hard inside me”.

“I bet all the other dicks you've had before didn't fill you right,” he groans, thrusting his cock iinside you. “but don't worry, you can have mine whenever you feel like having something worthy between your legs”.

You love how cocky he turns in bed.

“Right there,” you gasp when his cock reaches a particular spot inside your pussy. That spot, that no one but you and his fingers has found before. “Fuck, f-fuck, right there, right there”.

He keeps fucking you for a couple more minutes until he starts feeling your walls clenching around him, similar to when he was fucking you with his fingers. He knows you’re close, and there’s nothing he wants more than for you to come all over his cock.

“I can feel you squeezing my cock,” Changbin hisses, forcing your chin to face him. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come again”.

“S-shit,” you cry. “Yes, f-fuck I’m so close”.

“Already?” he asks you, holding your chin firmly. “Is my cock that good?”

You don’t know what to answer, but his cock it’s the best you’ve ever taken. So maybe yes, his cock is that good.

“And to think that you almost reject me,” he murmurs, his dark, half-lidded eyes fixed on yours. “Now you don’t care that I’m younger than you, do you? Because every time I remind you of it, you clench even harder around me, practically begging for my cum”.

You moan loudly, shamelessly. He is right, and he has been right all along.

“I didn’t think you would give in to me,” Changbin groans against your skin, “but I can’t believe all it took me was to jerk off with your underwear for you to realice that you wanted me”.

It’s embarrassing. But nothing far from the truth.

“I’m- close,” you whisper, feeling the rush of pleasure spreading all over your body. “Please- keep, keep fucking me like this”.

“Open your eyes,” he tells you right after leaving a wet kiss on your cheek. “I want you to look at me when you come”.

It’s difficult when the pleasure is too overwhelming, but you still try.

“If you close them, I’ll pull out,” he wanrs you. “And I know that’s not what you want, so you better look at me while you come. I want you to remember who made you feel this good”.

It doesn’t take you long to reach your orgasm, especially after all the things he said. You grasp onto his shoulders tightly, while your body trembles violently underneath him.

You try so hard to keep your eyes open that they end up rolling to the back of your head, but that sight only makes Changbin’s cock spasm inside your pussy just at the same time you clench around him. He is getting really close, and the way you’re moaning and crying for him is only pushing him further to the edge.

“Look at me,” he demands, right after you’re done reaching your high and collapsing onto the bed. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck, and your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to pull out, you want him to fill you up, to give you all that he has been saving for you.

You stare at him with dazed and glossy eyes, waiting to feel his warmth spreading all along your tummy.

You need him to come inside you, and you need him to know how badly you want it.

“Please,” you beg, grabbing both sides of his face with your hands. “Please come inside me, Changbin”.

The overstimulation is becoming painful, but you’re willing to overcome it as long as he rewards you in the way you want to be rewarded.

“Promise me you’ll keep it all inside you,” Changbin says, his skin glistening in sweat while his dark locks stick to his forehead. “If it leaks out, I’ll fuck it back inside you again”.

“Yes,” you moan, arching your back and pressing your chest against his. “I’ll keep it inside me. Please, just- come for me”.

It’s your weak pleas what really triggers his orgasm. That, and the promise you just made. How you’re willing to keep it inside you, even while knowing the risks of it.

He comes a lot, you can feel it even inside you. He groans, and pants as he comes off his high, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while he tries to stabilize his breathing. You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasms, and feeling him buried deep inside you while he shoots his sticky arousal isn’t doing any favors to the painful overstimulation, but it feels good.

It makes you crave more of him. Even when he is still inside your pussy.

It feels nice to be full. And you wonder when you’re going to get the chance to be fucked by him again.

“Fuck,” Changbin sighs, Pulling out of you delicately, trying hard not to stimulate you further. You whine when you feel the sudden absence of him, and he gives you a cocky smirk. “Miss me already?”

You get up with your elbows and arms against the mattress as you stare right down to you crotch. You can't see it, but you can feel his cum leaking out of you, staining your bed sheets.

“Thought I made you a promise,” you smile, teasingly. “Your cum is leaking out, and I don’t see you fucking it back again”.

You’re surely going to be the death of him, but he has fantasized about you for so long that he is conditioned to get hard any time he sees anything that has to do with you.

Good thing he has great stamina.

And that he is going to fuck you sooner than you’d expect him.

If you wish to support my work further, you can leave a reblog/ask/ comment. I also have a ko-fi, in case you want to (and are able to) leave me a tip. As a broke, college student I will highly appreciate it (the job hunting it's definitely not going anywhere, anytime soon. I'm doing my best though!). As I'm based in México, even a dollar helps me tons.

P.O.V: You ask SKZ to buy you pads (Hyung Line)

Genre: crack

Warnings: none

Request: no

Characters: Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Y/N

---

Tag list ~ @koos-euphoria @raethethey @hugs4chan @hotmesshapa @manonblackbeak-trash @hendsernoodle @stanskzseungmin @ateez-babygirl @dalamjisung @dinosdawn @cookiemonstermusic258 @strwbrryfroyo @gazelle-des-pres @qtieskz @stigmvta @necromancersupreme @super-btstrash-posts @changlix-mp4 @exonations @changboobies @jeyelleohe @rae-blogging @planetdemon @dani41 @jumbocircus @octalalica @velvetand-roses @foivetimesacharm @anaaam @waverzzzzzzzz @peachy-flxwr @elizabeth11moreno @lenfilms @xhazmania @starshine-moon @justoutfromdead @snow-pegasus @lixiesbabyhands @bbychannie97 @laylasbunbunny @americanokisses @bluechan @bellamuerte1987 @meowmeowisdaname @chanssmiles @minunivers @septicrebel @bangchans-angel @spacegirlstuff @sstarryoong (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

21 - ᴠᴏʏᴇᴜʀɪꜱᴍ -

ꜱᴀɴ/ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ

ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

pairing: pornstar! wooyoung x pornstar! reader (fem) x older pornstar! san

summary: you star in the tenth installment of “Stepdad Fucks Stepson’s Slutty Girlfriend.”

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: aged up! san, hard dom! san, dom! wooyoung, sub! reader, there’s a whole stepdad/stepson theme that’s alluded to but it’s a porn setting so it’s not actually real, daddy kink, pet names, name calling, voyeurism, oral (receiving), squirting, two spanks, humiliation (m receiving), unprotected sex, cumshot

a/n: dilf pornstar san <3 that's it. that's my entire note <3 also yes this is just me simping over san for an hour straight leave me aloneeee

FFF Masterlist

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

On your way to your next shoot, you sat in the backseat of your driver’s car, staring off into space. It wasn’t until you felt your phone vibrate on your lap that you looked down at it, reading the text you received from the intern at the company you worked for. They sent you a link to the script, which you promptly opened. They usually just consisted of a really vague explanation of scenes, along with some basic dialogue. It was relatively easy to remember. Reading the small text on the first page, you realized that you’d be working with someone else besides your friend and coworker Wooyoung. It was Choi San. The Choi San. Not only was he aging like the finest wine available at a Michelin restaurant, he was quite the celebrity in the industry, known mainly for his stamina, his ability to stay hard for a prolonged amount of time, and the thing that initially got him noticed back in the 80s — his ability to pump out endless cumshots. Despite being older, he was still able to keep up with the younger men and even surpass them, able to work for hours with few breaks in between, and always having a lot of enthusiasm. Needless to say, he was a very, very busy man.

“Hey, Woo,” you spoke, turning your head to look at your coworker sitting in the seat beside you, admiring his shiny dark brown hair, watching it bounce slightly as the car drove over a particularly rough road. “Did you know we’re working with Choi San? He’s going to wreck us!”

“He’s going to wreck you. It’s a straight person porn.” Wooyoung looked up from the game he was playing on his phone, blowing a bubble with the strawberry gum he was chewing. “And yeah, they told us before we got in the car back at the studio. Were you not listening?”

“I mean, I heard that we’re playing a couple that gets caught or whatever...” You pursed your glossy lips, idly watching Wooyoung continue to play an RPG game you weren’t familiar with, before gasping, “Oh my god, is San going to play the step dad role? That’s actually everything.”

Wooyoung paused the game, unable to focus on the battle that was taking place on the screen. “Y/N,” he started with an attitude, brushing a bit of perfectly-styled hair out of his line of sight. “Do you even watch his films? He always plays the step dad.”

“Not always.” You sucked your teeth, your lips forming a slight pout. “He’s done a ton of solo stuff. And I also saw one where he played a professor cheating on his wife.”

Wooyoung chuckled softly, reaching over to ruffle your hair, not wanting you to get pouty because you were upset. He’d rather see you be like that when you were begging for cock onset. “You’re right, Y/N. My bad…though in that one the husband was cheating on the wife with his stepdaughter.”

“Oh, yeah…” You looked down at Wooyoung’s hand when he lowered it to hold his phone again, your eyes slowly following a prominent vein that tracked up his forearm and eventually branched off in different directions, feeling a very familiar twinge of heat form inside your core. “Are you more excited about working with me or San?”

He didn’t bother looking up from his game, answering right away, “San.” In turn, you made a tiny hmph sound, unconsciously folding your arms across your chest.

Wooyoung smiled to himself, tapping and swiping his phone screen to wear down the enemy in his game, until he won. After emitting a small ‘yes’, he glanced over at you. “Come on, Y/N. I’m just kidding.”

“You’re not funny,” you mumbled in a pouty voice, suddenly caught off guard when he grabbed your chin and pulled you in closer. “What?”

He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, gazing at you with half-closed eyes, the tip of his tongue swiping near the beauty mark on his lower lip. “You don’t ask that every time we film with someone else, you know. The answer’s always you." Seeing your sheepish smile made his heart melt, though he had to be honest this time around. "But I think it might actually be San this time. I mean, just look at him," he sighed, already playing one of the man's latest films on his phone, sighing longingly at the sight of San pounding himself into a guy's ass, while his fingers were buried inside a woman's cunt.

"Wooyoung!" you whined, pushing on his shoulder. You stared at the clip, studying his intense lust-filled facial expressions, and admiring the way he just kept going and going, not showing any signs of exhaustion. "No, you're right. I'm with you on this."

Wooyoung smirked, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Thought so."

-

San was even more attractive in person. His angular face and sharp, chiseled jaw distracted you first, especially his Adam’s apple, watching it bob up and down as he took a few drinks from a water bottle. A few drops trickled down his freckled neck, disappearing inside his plain white button-up shirt. The one that was clinging to his broad upper body and becoming a little loose near his slim waist, though his Gucci belt kept it tucked in. He was expensive, and he didn't mind if everyone knew it, too. In fact, he preferred it when eyes were on him.

Wooyoung stood near you, sipping on a Red Bull through a bendy straw. “Y/N, are you just going to stare at him like that, or say hi?”

You put a hand up in front of his face, murmuring, “Shhh, I’m concentrating.” You were, to be fair, but you were also thinking about all the ways San could probably destroy you.

Zoning back in on the man, you focused on his striking dark eyes that gazed intensely through a pair of sleek black glasses at someone in the film crew that was speaking to him. Jesus, he was fine. You licked your lips at the sight of the crow’s feet that appeared underneath San’s eyes when he smiled at them. You needed him inside you sooner rather than later.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t watch this anymore,” Wooyoung announced exasperatedly, walking past you and up to San when he was done talking, tucking some hair behind his ear and pushing on the older man’s chest. After a few moments, he motioned to you and beckoned you in their direction.

San greeted you with a warm smile, holding his hand out to shake yours. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Wooyoung, Miss Y/N.”

“Oh, did you now?” you returned, giggling softly, placing a hand on your hip and trying not to smile too hard back. “What’d you hear about me?”

The man’s once friendly eyes darkened in front of you, his tongue rubbing over his bottom lip. “I heard you squirt a lot. I really want to see.” The polite image he portrayed just a second ago disappeared all together. It was so jarring that it made your knees feel a bit weak. “You’ll let me see that, won’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded almost right away, not even noticing that you were starting to drool when Wooyoung put an arm around you and quickly wiped it away with his thumb, distracting San when he asked, “Is it true that you once came for 2 minutes straight?”

-

Once someone counted down from five and gave you all the thumbs up, the camera framed the shot, capturing you and Wooyoung sitting on a leather couch in a living room, pretending to watch the tv playing an old football game. San sat in a recliner with an empty beer in his hand, not able to see the two of you unless he turned his head back.

With his arm around you, Wooyoung began to slowly pull down the thin strap of your tank top. “Baby, I’m so horny,” he complained, glancing down at your tits, idly flicking one of your nipples to make it stiff.

“Your stepdad’s right there…” You feigned embarrassment, pushing his hand away, only for him to position you so that you were sitting against his chest with the two of his hands working on your tits, kneading then in circles and rubbing your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. “Babyyyy, he’s going to hear us…”

Wooyoung pressed his lips to your ear, whispering loud enough that the boom mic captured his low voice, “He’ll only hear if you’re too loud, baby.” He slipped one hand into your loose non-existent athletic shorts, rubbing circles around your clit, his other hand pushing up underneath your tank top to grab at your tit directly, continuing to tweak your nipple. Delighted by your small, breathy moans, he rubbed his fingers up and down your dripping cunt, his fingers teasing your hole. “Mm, you’re so wet…”

Soon enough, Wooyoung was on his knees with his face in between your legs, three fingers deep in your cunt, and slurping on your clit like it was his life mission. The cameraman positioned himself in front of San, who was watching the both of you over his shoulder and fisting his cock, still able to capture the two of you behind him.

“It’s so good, baby,” you panted out, going between gazing down at Wooyoung and San, making sure not to acknowledge the camera at all. You fucked yourself on Wooyoung’s slender fingers the best you could, sinking further and further down the couch cushion behind you, your shorts hanging off one of your ankles and your top rolled up over your tits, all while panting and moaning like a bitch in heat.

“Cum, baby, come on, you can do it,” Wooyoung encouraged in a muffled voice, dragging his tongue up and down your pulsing clit, rubbing your g-spot in just the right way to make your hips stutter and your moans to raise in pitch. As soon as your warm arousal began to drip out, he moved his fingers rapidly across your clit instead, shoving his tongue inside you to fuck the cum out of you. “That’s it, that’s it, baby. Good girl. Gooood girl.”

Your coworker’s praise caused you to barrel over the edge, your orgasm so intense you let out a desperate, almost sob-like cry, seeing stars. You painted Wooyoung’s mouth and face with your squirt, some of the tiny clear droplets hanging onto his long lashes.

“You got a slutty little girlfriend there, son.” The older man finally stood up and walked over to the couch, sitting on his knees beside you, his hand still idly stroking his long, veiny length. “But she looks like she wants something more than just your fingers and tongue.”

Wooyoung gave your cunt one nice, long lick, before looking up at San with a curious expression, despite knowing what he’d say. “What’s that?”

“A nice big cock,” San replied, letting go of his own and letting it slap up into his abdomen, waiting for the cameraman to zoom in before he ran a thick finger up from the bottom of his shaft and along one of his prominent veins, slowly panning up to your surprised, but enticed face. “You want Daddy’s cock instead of your boyfriend’s, huh?” He slipped his fingers into your hair and brought your face closer to his cockhead, slapping it down onto your tongue a few times when you opened up. “Mm, I’ll take that as a yes. Now, open wide and show me what you’re made of.”

-

San’s stamina was no joke. It was well over two hours and you already filmed two deepthroat scenes, having to redo it after he pinched your nose for too long and you almost died choking on his cum, another solo jerk off scene for a separate catalog, and then he had to enter you in various positions, having to go slow, but stay hard, so that the photographer could take pictures for another catalog. Now, he was fucking you into next week for the camera. All the while, Wooyoung was able to cum a couple times, mostly on his own, but you were so gracious enough to lend a hand even when you were getting face-fucked.

Though, Wooyoung didn’t even bother jerking off himself at the point, knowing the camera wasn’t even on him anymore. He sighed to himself, idly running his hand up and down his abdomen, watching San fuck the shit out of you right next to him. He couldn’t be too upset. He already knew that the studio you were filming for was made for straight men.

You could hardly think straight, unable to even acknowledge Wooyoung sulking on the couch nearby. It wasn’t your fault, though. San was showing you what it really meant to get dicked-down. The man was like a well-oiled machine, pistoning his cock in and out of you like he was built for it. In fact, his cock was buried so deep inside you, you swore he was going to quite literally rearrange your guts. You wanted to tell the man all of that, but instead you spoke how you usually did during your films, “It’s so good, Daddy. You’re making me feel so full with your big cock in my tiny little pussy.”

“Mm-hmmm,” San nodded his head in agreement, pushed you further down into the couch, his solid body flush against yours. “Daddy’s fucking you good, huh? Much better than your pathetic little boyfriend. You want Daddy’s dick from now on instead?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” you chanted in an obnoxiously whiny voice, each time he pounded into you, hooking your feet together around his slim waist, locking him in place. When the cameraman zoomed in on your face specifically, you emitted a few small whining sounds, making a small ‘o’ with your swollen lips, gazing at the older man with glossy eyes, your eyebrows drawn.

“Baby girl’s so fucked out for Daddy already…” San reached down in between your bodies to rub your clit, the camera now following his movements. The older man pulled his body back slightly, giving the camera a good view of him pounding into you so brutally fast and hard that you’d have no choice but to squirt for him. He knew it’d make a nice money shot.

“Fuck, Daddy, it’s so fucking good!” you yelled, almost growling the last few words out, digging your manicured nails into his broad back and scraping them downwards, making the man groan. This happened sometimes. You got so lost in the pleasure that it made you aggressive. Made you want to cum so badly that if you didn’t get to, you’d throw a fit. “Don’t you fucking stop!”

“I’m not going to stop until I made you squirt, princess.” San ran his tongue across his bottom lip, squeezing and thumbing your throbbing clit, shoving his cock into your aching cunt so viciously that he couldn’t help but let a loud grunting sound each time. “Squirt all over Daddy’s cock. Come on. Fucking do it."

Two rough slaps to your ass and one brutal thrust later, you tossed your head back into the couch, your face contorting like you were in pain, your jaw tensing up as you moaned, “Oh my fucking god.” San pulled out and moved out of the way, holding one of your legs up so that the cameramen could get in there, allowing him to catch a crystal clear view of your dripping hole clenching around nothing until a small amount of liquid began squirting out of you. “Oh my goddddd…”

To make you squirt as much as possible, San hunched over the couch and brought two fingers onto your extremely sensitive clit, rubbing it so quickly, your hips jolted away from his touch, encouraging him to hold you down with one strong hand on your nearest hip.

“Saaaan,” you choked out, tears spilling out of your eyes from how insanely good it felt. Your arousal started to spray out of you instead, covering your cunt and inner thighs, getting onto the leather couch, and of course, even wetting the cameraman himself.

San sighed to himself, admiring such a beautiful sight. “Fucking hell, you’re making such a mess, baby. Look at you.” Without wasting a single second, he got back onto the couch and sat on his knees, using your slick and his dripping pre-cum to lube his cock, jerking off so fast his shoulders were starting to tremble. “Gonna cum all over you, kitten. You want Daddy’s milk, yeah?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded, gazing up at his dimpled smile, the small wrinkles underneath his upturned eyes, the pretty moles that decorated his strained neck. You couldn’t help but reach in between your legs to play with your pulsing cunt, rubbing the wetness around, making sure to spread your legs to give the camera a good view.

“Here it comes, baby,” San grunted huskily, pumping his hand slowly up and down his veiny shaft. “Oh, yeah that’s it…” He leaned his head down to look at your lewd face, forcing a long, thick rope of cum out onto your tits at first, making sure he covered the majority of your face in it, until he began working his way down your body. “Take Daddy’s load, kitten. Take all of it.” He continued to stroke the base of his twitching cock, the milky liquid splattering all over your tits and abdomen, some even landing on your mound and sliding down to your hole.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you purred, swiping your fingers through the vast amount of cum on your sweaty body and popping them into your mouth to suck on them.

“You’re very welcome, baby girl.” He admired the messy painting he made on his pretty canvas, taking in deep breaths to slow down his racing heart.

Once you relaxed and melted into the couch, San grabbed your chin and pressed his lips to your cheek, then made you face Wooyoung who sat up straight and gave you his best pouty face now that the camera was on him. “Tell my pathetic stepson that you’ll come to me when he can’t fuck you right.”

“I’m going to let Daddy fuck me whenever your cock doesn’t satisfy me, baby,” you told your scene partner, reaching over to caress his cheek. “That’s alright with you, yeah?”

Wooyoung nuzzled your hand, nodding his head sadly. Even though he was acting, you still felt a twinge of guilt inside your chest. He was good. The cameraman zoomed out slowly, then lowered it and gave a thumbs up to the other staff in the room, causing them to sigh and split apart in their own directions.

San patted your head and gave you a bright smile, wiping some sweat from his forehead. "Great job, Y/N. You really gave it your all." When you gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, he leaned in, adding in a low voice, "It was fun watching you squirt. Maybe I can see it again sometime."

"Uh-huh!" you answered a little too quickly, your cheeks burning, making Wooyoung roll his eyes and let out a small chuckle at your reaction.

San turned to Wooyoung, pushing some of his damp raven hair back and fixing his glasses. "Maybe we can get a bit more involved next time. You seem like a brat. Makes me want to put you in your place."

Blushing, Wooyoung couldn't even form a sentence, too caught off guard by the older man's words. You shoved Wooyoung's shoulder a bit, knowing he was just as whipped for San as you were.

San found you both to be quite cute, but preferred to keep it to himself for now. "Mm, anyway, it was nice working with you two! Bye for now." He showed off his charming smile, accompanied by the dimples that he was known for, before walking off to find his clothes.

Once you both got cleaned up and dressed, you stood near Wooyoung who was checking his phone game, leaning on him, periodically looking over at San, watching him pop a few white tablets into his mouth and swallowing them down with water. "So, it's Viagra..."

"Huh?" Wooyoung mumbled, glancing up at you for a second.

"Why he's able to stay hard for so long, you know." You sighed, missing the feeling of being stretched out by him.

"That still doesn't answer why he's able to cum so goddamn much." Wooyoung paused his game, putting an arm around you, joining in on the fuck-me eyes you were giving San. "Ugh, I really wanted him in my ass. It's not fair."

"Why don't we try to get him to join us for that one upcoming shoot?" you suggested, nudging Wooyoung's ribs with your elbow.

"Are you talking about '2 Sluts 1 Cock?' " he asked nonchalantly, turning to look at you, idly licking his lips.

"That's the one," you chimed, your eyelids lowering slightly, gazing at Wooyoung for a while, until the two of you went back to eye-fucking San across the room, letting out long, lovesick sighs.

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© toxicccred, 2023.

DON'T LET ME LOVE YOU | Chapter 2

« PREVIOUS CHAPTER · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

«I’m fucking done with your teasing.»

CONNECTION 📜10.3k | Approx. 44-min. read 🚨Refer to series masterlist for general themes & warnings of this story: Heavy sexual tension and horniness galore, mentions of food, risqué behavior, rendezvous shenanigans, consensual filming of sexual acts, mentions of free use, narratophilia (mc talks about a cnc fantasy, it's not acted upon), aggressive semi-public sex (feat. marking, groping, spanking), sex toys, nipple play, spitting, cumplay/cum eating, unprotected sex, creampie. 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

This chapter features NSFW audio purely for the sake of an immersive story experience. Should you choose to listen to it, please proceed at your own risk.

When the clock turned from PM to AM, it was time for your demons to run loose. 

You uncaged them and allowed them to say whatever the fuck they wanted into your ears. Sometimes they would be so mean, whispering things to remind you of what a terrible human being you were, and you let them. You knew you deserved that punishment every once in a while for everything you had done with complete disregard for anything other than yourself.

Some other times, however, they would just sit next to you and relentlessly tempt you. Persuade you into doing things you knew were wrong by an average person’s moral compass. Then again, you were no average person, and your compass was long broken, so you let them coax you, cajole you into turning into an absolute menace. To society, to the people around you.

To yourself.

Much like that night as you were wrapped in a blanket on the swing on your balcony with your peach vodka in your hand. 

The cold, delicious drink was awfully reminiscent of Chris. So sweet. Refreshing. You fucking knew it needed to be consumed in moderation, but the buzz wouldn’t even set in until you downed a couple of glasses, conveniently giving you the false impression that there wasn’t even any alcohol in it. You would only realize you were completely smashed when you attempted to get up, and by then it would already be too late. 

There you were, on your balcony, wrapped in your blanket, thinking about Chris again. You were never not thinking about Chris.

It was a terrifying thing to notice, but ever since the dinner party at his place, something had shifted inside you. You wished you were making it up, but you knew something had changed for him, too.

You darted your eyes from the tar-like night sky to your phone when you heard the notification sound.

Chris I can’t stop thinking about you How the fuck am I supposed to go back now that I know what your skin on mine feels like?

No ‘Hey’, no greeting, nothing—he just got straight to the point. Little did he know, you were pondering the exact same thing while very much drunk. You weren’t even sure if you were drunk on the vodka or Chris at this point, and it was driving you insane that you didn’t know why this was happening to you. He could have very well been a patron in one of the clubs you used to dance at. Would you feel this intensely about him then, too?

You Who says you need to go back? Chris I’m serious You So am I Chris [Typing…] Then where do we go from here?

Where would you go from here? You had already crossed a line, and it seemed like both of you had picked up an instant addiction. To be fair, it was most likely a very strong infatuation for both of you. Maybe it was the fact that he was taken. Maybe it had been just too long since someone else made him cum. And maybe things just got lost in translation afterwards.

Then why the fuck were you instantly excited just thinking about him?

You Are you familiar with the term ‘free use’ Dr. Bang? Chris As in [Typing…] With benefits? You All the benefits you can think of I think we both know your stroker can’t make you cum as hard as I can Just come over whenever you wanna blow off some steam Chris [Typing…] Can I come over right now?

What?

At this hour? Was Casey away? You were already trapped between the blurry lines of tipsy and drunk; you wouldn’t even be able to live up to the expectations you set for yourself.

But you really, really, really wanted to see Chris. Everybody had a weakness, and maybe he had become yours.

You Sure

In about thirty seconds, you heard a faint knock on your door. You almost trampled yourself on the way over how excited you were. You were acutely aware of how ridiculous it was for you to feel this way, but still…

When you opened the door and locked eyes with Chris, neither of you said anything for five seconds. Seeing him in the flesh felt like a cold splash of water on your face, and for some reason, he looked like he instantly came to his senses, as well.

“I have no fucking clue what I was thinking. This looks really bad I know, I swear I’m not actually like this. I just…” Chris let out a defeated sigh, “I really wanted to see you.”

The feeling in the pit of your stomach shapeshifted all of a sudden. You were overcome with an intense surge of affection and endearment towards him.

“I know,” you spoke with a smile.

Chris could be many things, but one thing he wasn’t was a bad person. He wasn’t like you. He wasn’t like most people you had known for that matter. He was a human being with flaws, but you knew his heart was in the right place.

Because he was not like you.

“Just so you know, the benefits involve unlimited talking privileges,” you flashed your car keys at him, “How about we go for a drive instead?”

He broke into a smile and nodded. Meanwhile, you grabbed your jacket and handed your keys to him.

“You’re driving,” you instructed him while closing your front door, “Can we stop by a drive-thru? I need me some trash food to sober up.”

You didn’t even give a damn if you were seen or not. If anybody fucking asked, you just called a friend to take you to your beloved burgers because you were in no state to drive by yourself and the damn place wouldn’t deliver at this hour. End of story. 

You cruised on the empty streets for a while. With your head resting on the passenger seat window, you watched Chris’ silhouette as he drove with all his attention on the road. Neither of you talked, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was needed, actually; it enveloped the two of you in a soothing bubble of serenity. Judging by the way he was comfortably sprawled behind the steering wheel rather than assuming his usual tense posture, Chris seemed to be able to breathe easy. It put a smile on your face.

“Do you really know five languages?” Chris asked in the parking lot before munching on his burger. You looked at him with a judgmental ‘I beg your fucking pardon?’ look while slurping on your drink, and responded.

“多分。”

“Was that Japanese?”

“Yyyup.”

He let out a very entertained giggle and continued his questions like he was interviewing you.

“So what are your favorite places around here so far?”

“Librerías y papelerías. Son muy bonitas.”

“How did you even decide on which languages to study for?”

“Qui cherche, trouve, chéri.”

“Not gonna lie, I’m a little turned on right now.”

“야 그만해라.”

His giggles turned into their final and most devastating form, and you laughed along with him. At that empty parking lot, Chris felt like he was making his first genuine connection with someone after what seemed like several forevers. For once, there was no hidden agenda to be in his good graces. No underhanded motive. Nothing about money, power, influence, or whatever the fuck else these people loved around here. Just two people enjoying each other’s company, talking about the most random things they could think of while scarfing down burgers and driving back home at some godforsaken time of the night.

All this time you two were alone. You could have done things if one of you so much as insinuated something, but you didn’t even kiss. It felt like both of you were in dire need of something much more humane than an animalistic impulse. 

And it felt nice for a change.

“Whenever you wanna blow off steam,” you quietly uttered as Chris was about to leave, having considerably sobered up by then, “Just talk to me, okay?”

He gave you a smiling nod and made his way back to his own prison. Talk to you. Talking to you was the easiest thing in the world.

One trip to some fast food joint at 2 AM. That was all it took for you both to form a new habit.

Your night drives with Chris became somewhat regular. Granted, you had much more ulterior motives when you first brought up free use, but this version seemed to be just as nice. One of you would shoot a text to the other, you would meet, and drive to some parking lot to grab a bite, watch the sea, or just talk. That confined space of your vehicles turned into somewhat of a bootleg therapist’s office where you got a little bit closer to each other every time. You were both a little too experienced with reading between the lines, so no excruciating details needed to be depicted. You talked about your love for thistles. He talked about growing up with his grandmother, and how he decided to leave the country for good no postcards from his mom later. 

“Is there a reason you came to Sunderland specifically?”

“The commercials looked really nice,” you shrugged, “I’ve always been a nomad. Wanted to take a stab at settling down by myself for a change. My ex husband didn’t seem to understand the concept very well.”

“Your… your ex husband?”

“I used to be married.”

Even though his eyes spelled “Really?” he didn’t say anything out loud.

You were sort of baiting Chris with moderately outrageous facts about yourself to assess his reactions. Just to confirm whether your intuition about him was true. He was never once judgemental like the most people populating this town. He didn’t shame you. Didn’t break into monologues about morals, or doing the right thing, or whatever. Even when you told him what you used to do for a living.

You were lowkey hoping he would do or say something to disappoint you because otherwise…

“Well, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive,” he shrugged instead, “Don’t expect the people here to understand you, though, because they can’t.”

The first commandment of being a nomad was not to get attached. To anything. Anywhere. Anyone. All you did so far was rental exchanges with strangers for your own entertainment, pleasure, or personal gains, and that was it. You didn’t give a fuck about the other person because you were only supposed to look out for yourself. It had always been that way.

That was exactly why connecting with Chris to this extent made you panic for your dear life because you didn’t know what you were capable of doing if you actually fell for someone. You were trying your hardest to tread with caution, but it felt like trying to find your way in pitch-black darkness by only touching the things around you, not knowing what they were or where you were even going.

One night as you were on a quest for the donuts he wouldn’t shut up about, Chris went on and on and on about the beaches back home. The way he talked about it like a kid on a sugar high endeared the crap out of you. With each word he uttered, you felt something swell in your chest.

Something was indeed happening to you, and you fucking hated that feeling.

“Damn, man, did the Ministry of Tourism commission you to be their ambassador or something?” 

“I wish,” he widened his eyes, “That would have been the dream. I love the sea.”

“You surf?”

“I used to.”

“What else do you like?”

“I mean… donuts,” he held up the half-bitten piece of pastry in his hand. You giggled.

“What do you hate then?”

As he was swallowing his bite, Chris creased his brows. He took a long while to come up with an answer, but he was still empty-handed by the end of it.

“No one’s ever asked me that question before.”

“How about I go first then?” you shifted in your seat, “For example, I hate olives.”

“Oh,” he quickly scanned the index of his strong dislikes, “In that case, I hate pineapples in my burger.”

“What the hell do you have against pineapples? They’re delicious!”

“Hey, I’m a pineapple juice lover, okay?” he dramatically emphasized, “There are some things you just should not put in your food is all I’m saying.”

“Fair enough,” you punctuated the pseudo-argument with a smile.

After his laughter faded, Chris’ aura changed colors. He looked way too somber all of a sudden and put the donut back into the box, seemingly having lost his appetite. You examined his face trying to understand what was wrong, but before you could even ask a question, the words spilled from his lips on their own.

“I hate that I have to pretend.”

You grabbed the box, shoved it into the glove compartment, and scooted a little closer to him. You held his chin and turned his face towards yours to look into his eyes.

“Pretend what?”

He finally locked his eyes with you and responded in a tone stuck between angry and sad.

“That I don’t hate things.”

“If you don’t mind me observing,” you rolled the words in your mouth for a little while and finally spat them out, “You’re not sleeping with your wife, are you?”

The only reply you received was a silent shake of the head as he was looking away.

“Because?”

Chris heavily exhaled and leaned into his seat.

“You can’t really bring yourself to touch someone you detest with your entire being.”

“Then why are you even married to this person?” you questioned, “Unhappy people getting a divorce is not unheard of, you know?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He brokenly smiled and turned to his right to look at you so that you knew how sincere his wish was.

“I really hope I can tell you someday.”

You reflected his broken smile back at him and wiped the Bavarian cream clinging to the corner of his mouth. Chris inadvertently flinched when you touched him out of the blue and immediately sat up straight.

“I– I don’t think you understand my frustration levels,” he cleared his throat, “I’m one minor contact away from having an accident, so please…”

You chuckled, “If you’re one minor contact away, how do you deal with your clients every day?”

“You know the profile of my clientele, right?”

“Oh, come on! Surely some hot piece of ass walks into your office every once in a while to rejuvenate her vagina or something.”

“I mean, occasionally, yeah,” he spoke matter-of-factly, “But they’re my patients. I’m not attracted to them.”

“You have a type?”

Chris couldn’t help his smile at your incessant mischievous questioning with that grin slapped on your face, and brazenly responded.

“Yes, I do.” 

Only silence ensued as he was looking at you intently. After several seconds, you pointed your finger at yourself questioningly, and when he nodded, you bust out a cackle.

“So you like ‘em flirty and promiscuous.”

“No, I like ‘em fearless and dangerous.”

Your mutual giggling eventually died down, and you were just looking at one another, attentively examining the little details on each other’s faces. His eyes eventually darted to your lips, reminding him of what they looked like wrapped around him not too long ago, and he felt a warm sensation rapidly spread in the pit of his stomach.

Goddammit…

He was doing so fucking well up until that moment. Chris was beyond frustrated, not because he didn’t get laid, but because he couldn’t touch you. Sexting or masturbating to you wasn’t enough anymore. Feeling you just once wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough for quite some time. He needed to fuck you. He needed to fuck you right here right now. Hard. Fast. Sloppy. Into his backseat. Fuck you until you fogged all the windows of his car. Choke you until you begged for some air. Grope you until you had bruises on you in the exact shape of his fingerprints. Kiss you until your skin was healed. Finger you until your eyes rolled back. Eat your pussy until you arched into his mouth. If only he wasn’t able to smell how wet you were between your legs because now that he could, it was getting way too hard to restrain himself with each passing second.

Just why the fuck did your scent have to be so… fucking… delicious?!?!

He closed his eyes, licked his lips, and took a very deep breath to seemingly calm himself, which was to no avail because as much as he was able to sense you, you were able to notice the strain under his pants, too. You scooted even closer to him and placed your hand on his thigh to gently caress it.

“Should I take this as a compliment then?”

Chris was embarrassingly hard already, and your touch was not helping his situation at all. Why, yes, you should take that as a goddamn compliment because were you even aware how many times he had to touch himself in a single day because of you?

“Please…”

You weren’t able to hold back anymore either. Once the spark from that match was alive, there was no turning back. It immediately turned into an uncontainable fire. You leaned into his reddening ear which looked like smoke was about to come out of it any second now.

“I want you, Chris.”

“Please,” he couldn’t dare open his eyes, “Don’t… Don’t prey on my weakness like that.”

But how could you not when he specifically told you not to in that desperate voice of his? Having had a knack for languages for so long, you knew exactly what that translated into.

Keep going and I will not take any responsibility for what happens.

“Your weakness?” you started sliding your hand up his thigh, “Is that what you call being touch-starved?”

“No, it’s– it’s you,” he thickly gulped, “Please.”

His words said Have mercy, but the fine print said something else. If you stopped right then and there, he was probably going to go back home and wreck everything in his garage into a pile of debris out of sheer frustration. Then wouldn’t having mercy be the complete opposite of what his lips were saying?

“I want you bad,” you placed a kiss on his earlobe, “I know you want me, too.”

“Please.”

You brushed your nose on his cheek, and when you spoke against his skin, your warm breath carried your words right to the pit of his stomach.

“You keep thinking about us, too, don’t you?” you loosened the button of his jeans, “You touch yourself to how incredible it felt in my mouth, don’t you handsome?”

“Please!”

“It’s just you and me. Just two people who deliriously want each other. Nothing more, nothing less.”

And when you finally touched his neck and whispered loudly in his ear with that much air—

“Fuck me, gorgeous.”

“ENOUGH!”

Chris jolted in his seat like he was electrocuted and grabbed your face.

“I’m fucking done with your teasing.”

Ironically enough, your first kiss came way later than the first time you made him cum. It was a kiss. A goddamn kiss, but by god, you had never experienced something this erotically charged before. The way he kissed you felt like he was trying to invade the void in your soul. When you touched his torso under his shirt, you almost charred your skin for his temperature was a million degrees. You were scared he was going to suffer a seizure or something due to acute fever.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. Who the fuck told you to be this fucking hot?”

Chris lowered your seat all the way back with one pull of a lever, and you started stripping each other a little too roughly like your life was at stake. He actually managed to rip off several buttons of your shirt and tore the lace of your bra, immediately latching himself to your nipples on sight. He was way too enthused for his own good, and you could feel him gently biting on the pebbled skin while getting rid of your pants in the meantime.

Why the fuck did you love getting tossed around by him this much?

“I want you,” Chris breathed into your neck, “Endlessly.”

You’d had your fair share of steamy encounters. Well, you’d had a lot of people’s share of steamy encounters for that matter, but you were aware of what those entailed. Both parties were always a placeholder. Temporary. Disposable.

Nobody had ever wanted you before.

“Gosh, you’re soaked,” Chris brought his thumb dangerously close to your clit and ogled you with his lips parted.

You were so goddamn slippery and on edge that the way he kept denying you contact annoyed the shit out of you. When you attempted to buck your hips for a little bit of friction, he groped your thighs and pinned you down.

“Behave.”

Sunkissed friendly guys who would get you soaked just with their filthy mouths. 

Well-behaved guys who were into kinky shit behind closed doors. 

Considerate guys who would mark their girls in their beds. 

Laid-back guys who fucking lost their shit when someone else touched what was theirs. 

Turns out, Chris was one of them.

“Don’t fucking act like you don’t wanna bury your face there,” you grabbed his wrists, “Now I’m gonna soak you.”

With one quick reflex, you straddled him and started grinding your clit against his rock hard cock. A throaty groan ripped from his throat. You felt him grope your ass as he made out with your neck. He was gasping for air against your skin. You inadvertently moaned when he landed a spank on your hips. The moment you locked eyes with him again, you saw how content he was with your reaction, biting on his lips with a twisted smile.

“God, you’re into some messed up stuff, aren’t you?”

“What are you gonna do if I am?” Chris shoved his fingers into your mouth, “Do you mind if I use this real quick?”

He loved the way you started swirling your tongue around his fingers, letting out sharp exhales each time you sucked on them. The deeper you took them in your mouth, the louder he moaned.

“I wanna do so many things to you,” you pressed your forehead against his.

“Do fucking everything to me.”

“You said everything,” you slithered your hands behind his nape, “No takebacks.”

“But I can’t wait that long.”

“Fucking use me. I know you’re sick of it,” you grabbed him by his neck, “Eat me alive.”

“Stop talking like that!” he grunted almost in the form of a whine. Meanwhile, you just shamelessly grinned at him.

“Why? Because treating me like a cumdump is disrespectful?”

“STOP!”

He turned you around in his lap, aligned his leaking length with your entrance, and pressed you closer to him so that your back was flush against his chest.

“Sit on it,” he firmly instructed you, “I wanna disappear into you.”

As you lowered yourself, Chris also pushed you down from your thighs, and you almost imploded for the sensation was way too overwhelming.

“Fucking—!”

“I can feel how creamy you are on my cock, fucking christ,” he rested one hand on your breast and spread your thighs further apart with the other, “Ain’t no way I’m not cumming inside.”

Chris felt fucking incredible inside you. He was pounding into you so hard and fast that pornographically sloppy sounds accompanied the echo of both your moans in the car.

“How does it feel sitting on me? As good as you imagined?”

“Fucking better.”

“Feel every inch,” he kissed your neck, “Every… fucking… inch. You did this to me.”

You threw your arm behind you to hold onto his nape and rested your head on his shoulder. Not too long after, he started rubbing your clit with his wet fingers while marking hickeys on your neck.

“Harder! I said eat me alive.”

“The fuck are you doing to me?”

He started thrusting into you with sharper movements, and when you started contracting, it basically spelled his impending doom.

“Don’t clench. Don’t… clench!”

“But I’m gonna.”

“Don’t— FUCK!!!”

Chris barely lasted five minutes. The way he violently spurted inside you, the way he clenched his teeth and moaned against your skin, the way he rode out his orgasm… It was all so hot to witness that you didn’t even give a fuck you didn’t get to cum.

“I’m– I’m so sorry. I couldn’t—”

“It’s fine,” you chuckled, “Didn’t that feel really good just now?”

“It really did,” he rested his head against your temple, “I’d forgotten what fucking feels like.”

You carefully got off him and laid down in the backseat as Chris hugged you. You kept caressing his unruly hair until he caught his breath. Unfortunately for you, right at that moment that swelling feeling in your chest tightened, and you felt something click like it got permanently locked inside.

Please don’t let me love you, gorgeous. Otherwise, we’re fucking doomed.

Ever since that day, you started observing Casey a lot more closely whenever you saw her. What she was doing, what kind of a person she actually was, the fucking front she was putting up, and tried to understand the reason why. Chris didn’t say he didn’t want to get a divorce. He said he couldn’t, and you just fucking knew this bitch had something to do with it. 

It was somewhat tolerable when you watched her doing some domestic shit in her garden from afar, waving at each other with fake smiles, but it was straight up making your skin crawl whenever she was right in your face.

“Oh my god, your garden is a mess!” she shrieked pointing at the thistles, and scared the crap out of you, “Do you need a gardener? I can give the number of ours to you. He does a fantastic job weeding out our yard.”

“Oh, this is very much voluntary,” you replied all unfazed, “I’m growing them myself.”

“Really?” she contorted her face in mild disgust, “Why would you grow thistles when you could have beautiful roses and jasmine shrubs instead?”

It took everything in your willpower not to smack her with the pruning shears in your hand.

“I’m a little busy. Did you need something?”

“Oh, nothing, I just wanted to say hi,” Casey flashed a disgustingly sweet smile and waved, “Toodles!”

The second she was at a safe distance, you mumbled to yourself through your teeth.

“It’s not like I’m growing cannabis here, you Sharpay Evans looking-ass cunt.”

“You’re not gonna believe what happened the other night,” Nathalie appeared out of thin air, giving you your second heart attack within a span of two minutes, “Inside. Now.”

She looked somewhat distraught, so you immediately dropped everything and followed her to the kitchen area.

“Is everything okay sweetie?” you took out the gloves from your hand and brought out a pitcher of sangria from the fridge, “Did those bitches do something again? Whose ass do I have to kick?”

“It’s not like that. Sit,” Nathalie fervently patted the couch and went off, “You know the Lees down the street, right?” 

“I think?”

“I was at the farmer’s market on Monday morning, and I ran into Chaeryong.”

“Oh, right, I remember her,” you snapped your fingers, “Contrary to her counterparts, she seems like a nice lady, actually. All quiet and everything.”

“I know, right?” Nathalie widened her eyes and flapped her hand quickly, “Anyway, we sort of started shopping together and then she invited me for brunch.”

“Bitch, you’re brunch-cheating on me?!”

“Will you fucking listen?” she slapped your thigh, “We get to talking, and then all of a sudden she asks me if Jisung and I would be interested in an exclusive party they’re hosting. Apparently, they get together every month.”

“Something like Casey’s pretentious-ass dinner party?”

“I thought so. I say ‘Sure’ and Ji and I drag our asses to the address she’s given me. It’s like this big-ass mansion, right? We’re greeted by a butler. A fucking butler!”

“Whose house even was this?” you furrowed your brows and refilled your glass.

“I don’t know!” Nathalie squealed with gigantic eyes, “I thought it was going to be a restaurant or something at first. Almost everything inside is marble, and then we’re escorted to what I thought was going to be a dining room.”

“It– it wasn’t?”

“Oh, there was some eating going on alright,” she took a very deep breath and punctuated her story, “Bitch, it was a whole-ass swinger party going on inside!”

Your jaw dropped all the way to the floor so fast that there was surely a dent in your hardwood floors now. A swinger party? In fucking suburbia galore? You started to die laughing.

“What the fuck did you guys do?!”

“We freaked out and went home!” Nathalie downed her entire glass, “But somehow that whole scene… It unlocked something for us.”

“How so?” 

“When we got back home Jisung seemed a little too… riled up,” she uttered somewhat bashfully, “Talking about how he would knock a bitch out if they dared touch his girl and shit.”

“And? Did he finally hit that like you wanted?”

Clearly replaying her memories in her head, she melted into the couch.

“God, it was the best sex of my goddamn life.”

You started laughing even louder, but at the end of the day good for your friend, right? Effective proof right there that disasters were indeed salvageable. 

“It’s always the quiet ones, I swear,” you wiped the tears from your eyes, “See? Instead of waiting for the neighborhood deviants to point shit out to you, you should talk to each other more often.”

“I didn’t know how I would ease into it, but I guess anything I bring up will be way too tame compared to this now,” she leaned back into her seat, “So yeah. What have you been up to lately?”

Well, I finally fucked Chris, and it blew my goddamn mind, was what you wanted to say, but for some reason, you couldn’t really bring yourself to reveal this piece of information to your friend yet. Technically, you weren’t lying to her; you just... didn’t bring it up.

“Nothing much,” you smiled at her, “Sangria?”

Nathalie hung out with you until the evening hours, and once you saw her off, you briefly questioned yourself regarding why you chose to hide the whole Chris situation. Were you feeling bad about it? No. Would you do it again? Hell, yeah. Were you aware that it wasn’t exactly the right thing to do?

Well, technically…

Right before a whole-ass debate broke out inside your head, your phone screen lit up with a notification from Chris.

Chris Since I’m kinda bored at the office Bets open How many times did I cum to that ass since the last time I last saw you?

Boom! Your logic? Gone. Common sense? Gone. Immediately. You sprawled on your couch and responded to him.

You Four Chris Eleven I keep replaying it in my head I can still feel you under my touch

You involuntarily bit into your smile because samesies. You were sort of scared to bring it up again, especially after that weird post-sex feeling, but you never stopped thinking about that night, either. It was under control when you were just relying on your imagination, but now that you had actual evidence of what Chris felt like in all your five senses, you were the one who was one minor contact away from having an accident.

You Did I ever tell you That your voice drives me fucking crazy? Let me hear it again [IMG304.jpeg] Here’s a little motivation 

Right after you sent the text involving a picture of your breasts squeezed together, you started waiting for the indicator to change with bated breath. After what felt like hours, there it was again, exciting you way too much on cue.

Chris [Recording audio…]

Your hand reached inside your underwear, and you started caressing yourself with very gentle touches. Just the thought of Chris jerking off to you right now was so fucking hot you didn’t even need to hear the audio itself to get wet.

Then you finally got the notification you were waiting for.

The way he kept hissing, the wet sounds of him stroking himself, the little whimpers he let out every now and then, panting and moaning to an image of you… It was fucking customized porn. Unadulterated, top-notch, cutting-edge, state-of-the-art quality porn made just for you.

Oh, you’re fucking killing me with this.

But the important question was why were you touching yourself all alone in your living room when he could be touching you?

Your wits spectacularly lost the battle against your urges. Shortly after, you found yourself getting ready as fast as you could and driving to his clinic. 

Between you leaving home and arriving at his building, the sky lost complete consciousness and turned from dusk to pitch-black. Even as you were riding the elevator eighteen floors up, your rationality was still nowhere to be found. You caught a glimpse of Chris taking out his white coat through the open door to his office. Very casually. As if he didn’t indulge in some shameless acts not too long ago. Seeing him in the flesh looking like that, your sanity peaced out for good. You watched yourself push the glass door open and walk into that lobby with a ridiculous amount of confidence.

“Good evening, Dr. Bang,” you called out to him.

Chris was stunned to see you right before his eyes as though he somehow manifested you there out of sheer willpower. Before giving him a chance to speak, you continued.

“I apologize for the last-minute consult. I’m aware I don’t have an appointment and it’s late, but I really need this resolved as soon as possible. You see, my boyfriend’s coming to town.”

“Dr. Bang, I’m taking off for today.”

“Uh– Thanks, Stacy. I’ll see you on Monday,” Chris saw the woman behind the information desk off and called you in, “Please come in.”

You followed him into his office, your heart thumping in your ears for some reason. 

“Your boyfriend?” Chris raised his brows questioningly. You, on the other hand, were entertained out of your mind.

“Your receptionist needed something to chew on, no?”

His relief was so obvious from the way he deeply exhaled. It was quite endearing, actually.

“You’re crazy,” he started laughing.

“And you get a kick out of it,” you started walking towards his chair, “Actually, there might really be something wrong with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been told you’re the best doctor in town for this, so I think you can really help me with my problem,” you sat on his desk and spoke with a solemn voice, “Do you also happen to specialize in sexual health, Dr. Bang?”

Chris was sort of caught off-guard as he was expecting a legitimate consult on his professional opinion. He did his best to try to suppress his laughter and responded as seriously as he could manage.

“I’d like to assure you all my clients leave here figuring out what works for them, and they carry on enjoying a healthy sex life.”

“Oh, I’m not here to figure things out. I know what works for me.“

“Then what’s the purpose of your visit?”

You got up from the desk and made yourself comfortable in his lap. The way you brushed your fingers against his neck gave him goosebumps.

“I have a problem getting enough.”

“Insatiability,” a shadow of a smile passed through his lips, “Well, that’s a first.”

The second you took his full lips between yours, you started melting into each other again. You kept teasing one another with little touches here and there, scared to lose complete control if you did anything more than that.

“Did you miss me?”

“A lot,” Chris spoke against your lips, “You’re like bad drugs I swear to fucking god…”

“Touch me,” you brought his hands around your waist, “I don’t care where. Just touch me.”

The way you started moaning into each other’s mouths gradually more loudly was the signal that this was about to get out of hand pretty quickly. You broke the kiss before either of you started doing something earthshatteringly stupid.

“Down for a little escapade with me?”

“H-here?”

“One of these days, I am gonna fuck you in your office, and you’re not gonna be able to look at this place the same,” you chuckled and fixed the collar of his shirt, “but today is not that day.”

“Where do you wanna go then?”

“Somewhere only we know. Just to be safe,” you started explaining the little plan you concocted, “Come to the parking lot in ten minutes and follow my car. We’ll drive separately. I’ll go in first. You’ll come sometime after me and ask for a single room with a single bed. Just to cover our bases. I’ll be waiting for you by the elevators, Dr. Bang.”

A thirty-minute drive later, there you were. In the lobby of The Ritz in Mayweather. 

You checked into a suite with a sea view and started going through your phone mindlessly until your person of interest stood right next to you to call for an elevator. He didn’t even have to say anything; his sandalwood scent made you keenly aware of his presence anyway.

The second those elevator doors closed behind you you were all over each other. Tongues clashing, bites on lips, tugs of the flesh. You felt his hand slithering up your thigh.

“Finger me.”

Chris hastily turned you around, spat on his fingers, and slid his hand inside your underwear.

“You got twenty three floors to cum,” he pressed your body against the mirror, “Show me what you got.”

He was quietly moaning while making out with your neck as he fingered you. You could feel how hard he was getting on your hips, and you were both fogging the mirror with how heavily you were breathing. 

“Just give it to me.”

“Faster. Right– right there!”

If you had a little more time you could actually cum on his fingers maybe, but you were severely cockblocked by the sound telling you you’d reached your floor.

“Tsk, this won’t do,” Chris licked his fingers, “I told you you got twenty three floors.”

When you walked into the spacious room, the first thing Chris did was pour drinks for both of you to chug. You could feel that his aura was a little different. There was a delicious flicker of danger emitting from him. When you attempted to unbutton his shirt, he stopped you.

“You know what, I have an idea,” he poured himself another drink and pointed at the bed, “Sit.”

You had no clue what it was about him that night that made you want to follow each and every instruction, but you just did. Chris dragged a chair right in front of you and leaned back with one ankle resting on his other knee. Then he took his phone out.

“Do you mind if I get a souvenir?” he playfully smirked, “I think it’s only fair if you returned the favor.”

“Go ahead,” you reciprocated his smile.

“Strip for me.”

He sipped on his drink as you undressed, licking his lips with every piece of clothing you took off.

“Spread your legs wide.”

He zoomed in to get a close-up of your pussy and smiled to himself.

“Lay down,” he continued his instructions, “Now you’re gonna touch yourself and let me watch you,” 

“Can I use aids?”

“Why, of course.”

You reached out for your purse and took out the bullet vibrator you were carrying in your wallet because fuck a lipstick, this was a girl’s best friend.

“Close your eyes,” Chris started speaking in a huskier tone, the giveaway sign of how turned on he was, “I want you to tell me everything you want me to do to you.” 

“Everything?” you softly chuckled, “Sure you’re not gonna get scared?”

“Try me. I haven’t always been a suburbia guy,” he nonchalantly uttered, “I have some conditions, though.”

“I’m listening.”

“If you can do those things to yourself, you’re gonna manifest me on your body,” he savored the taste of the gin on his tongue, “Wanna get your pretty pussy eaten? I’d better see you dripping.”

You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the sense of freedom that transformed Chris into this, but you absolutely weren’t complaining. You made a mental note of each and every thing he said like a meticulous student.

“Want me to make you scream? You’d better stop it with those quiet moans. You act like you don’t actually want me to drill you into that mattress? Just lazy rubs on that clit? That’s all you’re getting from me.”

His voice was commanding. Enthralling. Categorically tantalizing. You couldn’t even remember whether anybody else was ever able to get you this worked up.

“But if you can show me what you exactly want?” Chris carried on with his directions, “Then I’ll show you I can do it way better than you can ever do to yourself.”

He downed half his glass in one go and pressed record.

“You may begin.”

May. He said fucking may like he was giving you goddamn permission to entertain him for his viewing pleasure. 

You wished you didn’t salivate over this cocky side of Chris.

“You and I are out, having drinks. Away from anybody we ever know. Just the two of us,” you started fondling your breasts, “I look a bit too good, and you’re not so bad yourself.”

You felt the soft sound of his amused chuckle tickling your ears. Your hand started sliding down your torso, and you started caressing your pussy with gentle movements.

“There’s a guy in the corner ogling me. He seems like he doesn’t really care that you’re there with me. I excuse myself to the restroom. When I come out, he’s right there, asking for my number,” you dragged your fingers on your tongue to get them wet and started playing with your nipple, “I tell him I’m not interested and come back to the table. Unfortunately for me, you see this exchange.”

You applied more pressure on your pussy, which elicited a moan out of you. Per your instructions, you didn’t try to suppress it. You started rubbing your clit to get yourself wetter.

“You ask me what the hell that was and I tell you it’s nothing. Because it is nothing. I only have eyes for you. Even when you’re not with me, I can’t stop thinking about you. You know that, but you act like you don’t believe me. You’re so gone with jealousy that you see red. You grab me by my wrist and drag me to an alley outside. It excites the fuck out of me.”

“Pay attention to how your clit is throbbing,” Chris spoke with a low voice, “Keep caressing yourself.”

You grabbed the vibrator sitting next to you, clicked on it, and started dragging it on your pussy.

“You shove me against the wall and slide my dress up. It angers you that I have underwear on. You rip it off me and tell me to arch my ass. I say I don’t want to, but you know I do. You know I want you to do completely disrespectful, borderline illegal things to me,” you spread your legs wider and began fucking yourself, “If I told you what I really want you to do, I would sound like an absolute masochist that needs to be institutionalized. You awaken the worst parts of me and I fucking love it.”

Chris let out a loud groan indicative of how he was about to pass a precarious threshold, and it pleased you more than you were pleasing yourself.

“Lick your own juices,” he firmly ordered you, “Then finger yourself.”

You turned off the vibrator and sucked on it as if you were sucking on him to get him to cum. Then you pushed two fingers inside you while pinching your nipples.

“I love the way you fuck, gorgeous. I love how mad you are. I love how you’re overcome with this urge to put me in my place. I fucking love the way you ruthlessly take it out on me.”

You were panting and moaning to this make-believe scenario you depicted for him, and Chris couldn’t really calculate that this sight was going to cause him to cum untouched if he let you keep going. It was just too hot to handle.

“Stop.”

You halted your movements and waited for further instructions while catching your breath.

“Sit up. Look at me.”

You did as you were told and locked eyes with him. He was still filming you.

“How much do you want me?”

“Endlessly,” you echoed his haunting declaration back to him. 

He hurriedly unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. The sight of his precum induced an intense desire in you to just lap at it.

“Open up,” he guided his cock into your mouth, “Suck it deep for me.”

You looked right into the lens while blowing him to give him his ultimate personal porn. The way he was reacting to you with his loud groans was fucking everything.

“My pretty girl,” he placed his hand on your head, “That’s it, choke on it.”

Your enthusiasm suddenly tripled when he called you that. You took more of him down your throat while swirling your tongue around him.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking good at this,” he threw his head back in pure ecstasy, “Deeper. Take it deeper.”

As he was guiding your head, Chris got a little too excited and started fucking into your mouth. 

“Do it again,” his voice came out as a desperate plea, “Make me cum hard in your mouth again.”

When you started moaning on his cock, that was simply the last straw for him. You felt the warm, bitter liquid shooting down your throat, and once his tremors died down, he stopped the recording.

“That was for me. Now we’re gonna make something for you,” he handed you the phone, “Give me your vibrator.”

“Damn, no ‘please’ or anything?” you sarcastically laughed.

“Did I sound like I was asking? Because I wasn’t.”

Good fucking god, who the fuck was this man because you were losing your whole entire shit over him. You watched Chris strip and nestle himself between your legs.

“No cumming until I tell you to.”

“Because?”

“Because I fucking said so.” 

At this rate, you would jump off that window if he asked you to because it was getting impossible to say no to him.

“Now film me.”

He started caressing your nipples with his thumbs just to watch the way the skin hardened. Zero hurry. Compared to some of your other erogenous zones, your breasts weren’t that sensitive. At least, you had always thought so.

That night you learned what would happen if someone actually took their sweet time working you.

“It’s a shame, really,” he let out a disappointed sigh, “It would be fucking amazing if your cum also squirted out of your nipples.”

Since WHEN are you this forward, my guy?

Chris was paying so much attention to your breasts with excruciating gentleness, kissing them, taking them into his mouth, and drawing slow circles on them with his tongue. He was treating your nipples no different than your clit. Every single movement of him was so unrushed that you felt yourself gradually shift to a realm of pleasure that you didn’t even know existed. He wasn’t doing anything else. No aids. Nothing. Just hyperfixating on your chest area to make you aware of how good this could feel.

After some time, the teasing reached such an unbearable level that you simply started oozing between your legs. You needed him. On you. In you. Behind you. Everywhere. 

Right at that moment, he started descending from your chest with kisses to your ribcage, your stomach, all the way down to your crotch, and stopped in front of your cunt. He wasn’t touching you—his eyes were glued on your folds, admiring it, gawking at how glossy they were because of him. It was like he was waiting for you to snap or something.

“Spit on it.”

You didn’t even know where those words came from; they just forced themselves out of you. Chris paused for a brief moment while looking into your eyes with a knowing smile and then fulfilled your request. 

It indeed pushed you a little closer to snapping.

“Fucking god, eat me. I need to feel your tongue on me,” you tangled your fingers in his hair, “Just lick me. Suck me. Slurp on me until I cum in your mouth.”

He was beyond content with how impatient you were getting, and promptly got to work. You almost lost your fucking mind watching this through the screen, and it was going to be on record forever. This absolute perfection of a man between your legs making out with your pussy. You were instinctively grinding against his face and with every roll of your hips, you were five steps closer to your orgasm. Your legs started shaking not long after.

“Ah, yes. Yes, just like that. Nice and slow,” you felt yourself dissolve on his tongue, “Who the fuck told you to eat pussy this good, my GOD!”

“Told you I’m gonna drive you insane,” he placed a wet kiss on your thigh, “Hold it. I’m not done eating yet.”

That prompted a heated push and pull of who was in charge. You pulled on his hair, he shoved his tongue into your entrance. You scratched his back, he squeezed your thighs. You loudly moaned, he moaned louder into your pussy.

“I wish I could stimulate you from everywhere all at once,” he softly chuckled, “You should see this. You’re soaking the sheets.”

You spread your pussy lips to expose your clit to him and zoomed in on the way he lapped at it with his eyes closed, completely basking himself in your taste.

“So wet,” he pecked your pussy, “Come on, you can give me more.”

At long last, Chris finally grabbed the vibrator, but didn’t turn it on. He just dragged it from your clit down to your entrance and pushed it inside with no pressure, yet it still met resistance.

“You feel that?” he demonstrated how he wasn’t able to go further with a few more pumps, “You’re so aroused, your walls are all swollen.”

He pulled the toy out of you and dragged it back up to a very dangerous zone.

“Clitoris is such a fascinating part of the body, you know,” he started speaking in a beguilingly calm voice, “It’s like there is this annihilate button right out in the open. Who wouldn’t wanna press that?”

He clicked on the vibrator to turn it on, but he still wasn’t pressing it against your clit very much on purpose. All you could feel was the very very faint, feather-like vibrations around it.

“Interesting things, bullet vibrators,” he continued with the same tranquil tone, “They’re supposed to make you feel good, but they don’t have very strong motors. Not to mention you can’t properly fuck yourself with it because of their size. They don’t reach very deep.”

Then he locked eyes with you, and the way he smiled at you was simply demonic.

“That’s why in the wrong hands, they become straight up torture devices, don’t you reckon?”

You were dying. Chris was killing you with his words and ruthless teasing. He kept dragging that damn thing you were cursing yourself to bring out in the first place, and he suddenly discovered a critical spot.

“CHRIS!”

“Oh, found it. Right here under your clit, isn’t it?” he lightly poked his target once, “Want me to work that?

That was a very much rhetorical question because of course he wasn’t going to. He slowly glided the small device currently drenched in your sweet arousal just to bring it down to your entrance again. He pushed the very tip through your swollen hole, fucked a few shallow pumps, and when he met resistance, he moved it back up. His other hand started playing with your nipples again while teasing you to death. You had brought this on yourself—you were the one initiating this arson on your body. You were so sensitive by then that you could feel everything he was doing, and threefold more intensely for that matter. The way he made out with your nipples like he was munching on your clit. The way he contently hummed against your skin like he was getting his dick sucked. The way he slowly slid down the vibrator to that sweet spot right under your clit. Everything.

Then you said the one thing you absolutely shouldn’t have.

“I’m g– I’m gonna cum!”

Chris halted all his ministrations immediately and clicked on the bullet to turn it off. Then he stared you down with a threatening look. 

“I think the fuck you’re not.”

“Chris, please!” you were about to rip your hair out due to unadulterated frustration, “Fucking stop this torture!”

“I don’t think you heard me,” he adamantly declared, “I said no.”

With that, he went back to work you all the way from the top as if you had messed up a one-take shot. Just your breasts again. Just kisses. No contact with your cunt whatsoever. He turned on the vibrator and used it to get your nipples wet with your own juices while pressing the tip on the hardened skin. You wondered if he was trying to see whether you would actually squirt your cum out of them. When your whimpers became too much, he turned the device off and channeled his attention to somewhere else.

He very carefully touched your folds with his thumb, just lightly caressing and avoiding your clit at all costs. He started drawing very slow, languid circles around your clit with the toy as if it was a pen and proceeded to fuck you with very very shallow thrusts again. He kept alternating between the two, but the second your breathing got labored he stopped.

“Stop this!” you pleaded on the brink of tears, “Please stop edging me!”

“But I’m gonna,” he kissed the soft skin right above your pussy, “I’m gonna edge you. I’m gonna edge myself. I’m gonna keep on edging until one of us fucking loses it.”

He turned the vibrator on and swirled the faint vibrations on your outer labia first. Then your inner labia. Then around your clit. Then finally… 

Fucking finally he pressed it on your clit.

“Oh, fuck, yes!”

“Hold it.”

“Chris, yes!”

“Hold it.”

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

“I… said… hold… it.”

His lips might have been saying one thing, but Chris forced you to cum very violently by aggressively fucking you with the toy and sucking on your clit, knowing damn well there was no way in hell you would be able to hold it. That wasn’t an orgasm you experienced.

You fucking combusted and shattered into a million pieces.

“What did I just tell you?” he disapprovingly tsked, “You don’t know how to listen. There should be consequences for what you’ve done, don’t you reckon?”

Your brain completely reset. You didn’t know who you were or where you were anymore.

“What– what consequences?”

“Shh, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Chris hovered over your body, “I just want a kiss. Taste yourself on me just like you wanted.”

This was the consequence? Why, by all means, you could give him all the kisses he asked for. 

He placed the phone that slid from your hand on the nightstand, still recording for that matter, so that you were both in the frame, then shifted you on top of his body. He was kissing you long and deep while playing with your tongue and sucking on it. You were feeling yourself slowly resurrecting.

“I’m not gonna do anything, I swear. I’ll only grind against you,” he started moving his hips, “I just want some friction for myself.”

Chris continued with his kisses while grinding, but that didn’t last very long. When he aligned his cock against your entrance, you chortled.

“That feels like more than just friction.”

“Just the tip, baby. Come on.”

Oh, hell no.

This was supposed to be a sweet escape. You were doing extremely obscene things to each other, but when he uttered that damn word, the dynamics suddenly changed. 

The lock in your chest was trapped under a deadbolt now.

“A little more,” he moaned into your mouth, “I only want a little more.”

He turned you around and engulfed your body under his, then you felt him completely sink into you with one sharp push.

“Chris…”

“Fucking need you,” he threw your legs on his shoulder, “I won’t cum inside, I promise.”

He could feel how thick your walls still were, still slightly contracting from your earlier orgasm. Warm. Wet. Perfectly wrapped around his cock like a custom-made sleeve. Then at long last, what he was doing finally hit you and you started laughing.

“You’ve been after making a cum-filled wreck out of me all along, haven’t you?”

Chris looked deep into your eyes with an absolutely maniacal grin and whispered.

“Bingo.”

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

“You should manipulate me more often.”

“You should fuck me more often,” he caressed your cheeks, “You should fuck me all the time.”

“Then fill me up. To the brim. I wanna feel your cum leak out of me.”

“No leaking. You’re gonna keep it inside, yeah?” he kissed you again, “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

He started fucking you with a much faster rhythm and shoved his fingers into your mouth. When you started sucking on them in the exact same way you sucked on his cock, Chris let go and squirted his load all over your walls. 

“Inside, baby. Keep it inside,” he grabbed his preferred assault weapon one last time, “Look into my eyes.”

Without driving you up a wall this time, he pressed the vibrator right on target, under your clit to make you cum on his cock. You were still pretty sensitive from earlier, so it didn’t take long for him to hit the nail on the head. Chris stopped the recording and collapsed right next to you. When he pulled out, as much as you wanted to keep it inside, you leaked a little. He brushed his finger on the white liquid to taste it.

“It’s much better when we’re mixed together,” he brought his finger in your mouth, “See for yourself.”

It was indeed much better. The aftercare involving lots of hugs and kisses was very much worth almost passing out.

“Do you think I should get this mole removed?” you pointed at the freckle on your chest.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It looks so sexy on you,” Chris placed a kiss on it, “I love it.”

“Did you know our pristine neighborhood has a swinger’s club?”

“A what?”

You bust out laughing at his reaction and turned to your side to face him.

“Yeah, Nat told me.”

“Who knew? maybe this town isn’t so boring after all.”

“So they never asked you to join, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Would you have been interested at all if they had?”

“God no,” he furrowed his brows, almost slightly nauseated, “Certainly not in my current situation.”

“What do you mean current?”

He heaved an annoyed sigh, “Even if we were both willing parties, such a scenario wouldn’t be a turn on with Casey.”

“Why not? You don’t find her sexually attractive?”

“Sexually, morally, as a human being overall.”

You couldn’t help the snort that came out of you because samesies. Then all of a sudden, the way he worded it caught your attention and you pulled yourself closer to Chris.

“So it’s not that you wouldn’t wanna do it, but it’s who is involved,” you knowingly smiled, “Would you want to share me with someone else?”

There was a total blue screen on Chris’ face. No thoughts, head empty, just thinking about the lewdest scenarios you just sparked in his mind. What if people were in the room to watch him please you beyond humanely possible? What if they listened to your screams of pleasure when you begged him to give you more? Or stop stimulating you anymore? What if you fucked all night long and people touched themselves to the hottest fucking sight they’d ever witnessed? What if it was so damn seductive that they started fucking each other?

His throat got super dry all of a sudden.

“What uh– What did you have in mind?”

“We can talk about it,” your smile grew wider, “but I have different priorities. I was promised twenty four hours of fucking.”

You straddled him and lowered your body on his. Even though neither of you fully recuperated yet, you didn’t want to be away from him for one second.

“Spend me, gorgeous.”

“I think I enjoy your insatiability problem a bit too much,” he smiled into your lips.

Right when you started another round, your phone screen flashed in your purse with a text notification.

Minho Call me when you can This bitch is sus af

«TO BE CONTINUED»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

*dun dun dun* Sound ref: moon xx (several sources retrieved and compiled from creator's public content)

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.

-R. (CB97%)

📢Regarding tagging: Please do not ask me to tag you if you won't be meaningfully engaging with my work. Additionally, I do not tag ageless and/or blank blogs, nor can I tag you if your blog is listed as "invisible" / if you've changed your URL and didn't let me know. Thank you for your cooperation in advance!

🔖Story taglist: Moved to comments because Tumblr won't let me tag more than 50 URLs.

📌Permanent taglist: @sai-kida134 ; @straywrds ; @hwan-g ; @svintsandghosts ; @skz317cb97 ; @abiaswreck ; @changbinluvr ; @lotus-dly ; @downforseochangbin ; @nabis-dreamscape-world ; @oiphoebe ; @chansynie ; @staytheword : @venustired ; @yoongihan ; @hyunskizz ; @sikebishes ; @changbinheart ; @downbadreading ; @bxffietheblxxdy ; @j-0ne25 ; @binstitsweat ; @skizzel-reblogs ; @reallyloudstarlight ; @lifeinakpopbubble ; @shincode ; @djeniryuu ; @squishylee612 ; @hgema ; @gold-dragon-slayer ; @babebatter ; @ladylexis ; @dwaekkiluver ; @quokka95scum ; @guiltycoco ; @sunnyseungup ; @blu-kyl ; @8makes1scream ; @midsoulz ; @aquavv02 ; @exquisite-fics-rec ; @leebitsimpracha ; @rairacha ; @fairy-jojo ; @mxnsxngie ; @itstorimf

REPLAY : Limbo

REPLAY Masterlist | w/c: 3.3k | Lee Know x Reader

warnings: light angst, swearing, bullying/name calling between friends (this is meant as like...friendly roasting/teasing, no malicious intent), breakup mention, food

synopsis: Lee Minho was great at a lot of things; taking care of you being near the top of his list. As any best friend should upon receiving a distraught phone call, he sets off on a mission to comfort you as best as he can. But, as any best friend knows they should not, he's managed to find himself absolutely enamored by you. With you effectively comforted, the only question he has now is whether or not he should keep it to himself.

“I know it’ll change with just one word, the word I cannot say.”

Minho rushed through the aisles of the local grocery store - his mind on one thing and one thing alone; where the fuck was your favorite ice cream?

When he’d seen your contact name pop up on his screen, he’d answered almost too quickly - eager to hear from you after you’d been out all day with your boyfriend. Naturally, when he heard you sobbing instead of gushing about the date on the other end of the line, he’d shifted immediately into Best Friend Mode.

Stay put, give me a half an hour.

His instructions were simple, earning a broken affirmation from you before the call disconnected, marking the start of his countdown.

He’d already grabbed a small, plush cat and a copy of your favorite film - a disgustingly sappy romcom that he would never be caught dead choosing of his own volition.

But this was you Minho was doing this for. You needed this. You needed him.

He cursed under his breath as he scanned the freezer section, wondering when exactly they’d decided twenty flavors of a single brand was a good idea. Normally, it took more than excessive ice cream varieties to get under Minho’s skin, but he’d already spent five minutes looking for the sickeningly sweet flavor he’d always tease you about loving so much.

The urge to actually shout in excitement as he spotted a container of the gooey, chocolatey treat was strong. He snatched it up quickly, tossing it in his basket before speeding over to the drink aisle.

Water was next on Minho’s list. If the garbled state of your voice was any indicator, you’d likely cried out enough of your body’s water content to be on the verge of dehydration. He tutted under his breath to himself, voicing his concern outwardly despite not yet being there with you. He put a couple of bottles of water alongside the ice cream before heading to the checkout.

Minho nearly sprinted to his car once he’d paid for the items, not bothering to grab his change in his hurry to make it to you. Typically, he tried to keep a level head - not letting his emotions show one way or the other. This was different, though.

You were different.

His thoughts were on you as he got into his car, tossing his haul into the passenger seat before turning the key in the ignition.

This was not Minho’s first time assisting you through heartbreak. He’d tell you the same thing, each and every time.

“They didn’t deserve you, anyway.”

And he meant it, each and every time. You were…astounding to Minho. Soft despite the hardships you’d faced, but strong enough to pull through and stand up for yourself. Hardheaded. Strong willed. Although he’d frequently feign annoyance, Minho had always found your stubbornness extremely endearing.

Minho had always been completely honest with you. Your outfit isn’t flattering? He’d say something. You had food in your teeth? He’d point it out. He disliked your partner? You’d know about it.

The only thing he’d never been able to tell you was that he loved you.

Not that he’d never said those words to you before, having been your best friend for several years now - but this was different. 

This wasn’t an offhanded, platonic, “Yeah, yeah, I love you, too,” as he’d normally say, rolling his eyes at your affectionate statement.

This was an, “I want to kiss you until I can’t breathe, hold you every night and never let go,” type of love. 

This was an, “It hurts me every time you give one of these jerks a chance, because I know I can love you better,” type of love.

This was a, “Despite my feelings for you, I am buying you all of your favorite things and coming over to comfort you after someone - who didn’t deserve you in the first place - fucked up,” type of love.

Minho sighed to himself as he spotted your apartment complex, pulling into park next to your car. He prepared himself to see your blotchy, reddened face and not blur the line between “concerned friend” and “madly in love.”

He grabbed the grocery bag before jogging up the steps, two at a time, and arriving outside of your door. 

Minho felt his concern growing as the door remained closed. He raised his hand to knock again, only to stop as he heard a faint sniffle followed by shuffling footsteps on the other side. 

When you opened the door, his heart dropped into his stomach.

Your eyes were swollen and red, glistening as though you’d been crying up until the moment you revealed yourself to him. You had your favorite blanket - a gift from Minho himself - wrapped snugly around your head and shoulders as if it were a hood. Your cheeks were flushed, and your nose was a startling shade of crimson.

“You look like shit,” Minho said bluntly, stepping inside and slipping the shoes off of his feet.

“Gee, thanks,” you replied dryly, sarcasm only broken by the slightest twitch of a smirk on your lips.

Minho handed you the bag wordlessly, making a quick detour into the kitchen to grab you a spoon before placing a gentle hand in the middle of your back and leading you to the couch.

He sat down, patting the spot next to him to urge you to do the same. You followed suit, finally looking into the plastic bag you’d been handed. 

“Water?” You asked him, your voice just sad enough to sound more pathetic, less unamused.

“As if you’d remember to hydrate in the midst of your crisis,” he rebutted immediately, raising a brow, “Drink.”

You unscrewed the cap, taking a small sip of the still-cold liquid. You hadn’t realized just how parched you’d become in the midst of your breakdown, immediately raising the bottle back to your lips for a more prolonged drink.

Minho nodded as you drank, content with the lack of resistance when it came to something as important as your health. After finishing a quarter of the bottle, setting it down on the coffee table, you peered into the bag once more.

You slowly pulled out the brown and white plush from the bag, smiling softly despite the heavy sadness in your heart.

“Looked like Dori,” he explained before you could ask, “Your apartment doesn’t allow pets, or I would’ve just brought her along.”

You nodded, setting it carefully in your lap. You’d always loved playing with Dori, the most playful of Minho’s children, and - despite being unable to play with the plush as you would’ve the real thing - you still valued the sentiment.

There was a ghost of a smile on your lips as you grabbed the next thing out of the bag, recognizing it by its shape and cold exterior before it had even entered your field of view.

“Brownie batter?” you asked quietly, sniffling once more.

“That better be the right one,” he warned playfully, “You need a new favorite brand, twenty flavors to search through is too many.”

That ghost of a smile grew increasingly closer to becoming genuine as you met his eyes, “I’m not choosing a new brand just because you’re lazy,” you tried to tease back, though it sounded a bit more like a whiny complaint in your current state. Minho chuckled warmly at your reply, regardless of how stuffy and downtrodden you sounded, “Besides, this flavor is the best.”

“Sure,” he quipped, rolling his eyes despite the overwhelming relief he felt to have you acting like yourself already. Seeing a smile on your face - regardless of how small - after having nearly panicked upon hearing you on the verge of hyperventilating on the phone soothed his heart. 

He watched you pull the final gift from his bag of heartbreak remedies, already steeling himself for what was bound to be a dramatic reaction.

“You didn’t buy this, I refuse to believe that,” you said, stone-faced as you held the movie in your hands, “You wouldn’t be caught dead purchasing this in public.”

“Yet here I am, delivering it to you personally,” Minho easily countered. He’d always been so quick with the counterarguments - something you’d once been bothered by, but now found hopelessly entertaining.

“Are you sure I’m the one who needs taken care of?” You raised a brow as you spoke, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, “I’m allowed to give a shit about you, yeah?”

You laughed softly as Minho offered you the spoon he’d grabbed from the kitchen, “Yeah, I guess I’ll allow it.”

“Good,” he deadpanned, turning his body until he was facing you directly, “Now, tell me what happened.” Your face fell, the smile you’d finally found dropping immediately at the reminder of your pain. This didn’t go unnoticed by Minho, however, as he attempted to bribe you, “You can eat your ice cream and I’ll watch this horrible movie with you afterwards.”

“It’s not horrible, you’re just a cynic,” you mumbled, avoiding both eye contact and giving him a direct answer.

“And you’re hoping I debate this with you to give you an excuse not to talk.”

Damn him for knowing you so well.

You sighed, shaking your head. You couldn’t tell him he was wrong - because that was exactly what you’d hoped for. A shaky inhale prefaced your next words, your throat tightening as you made your best attempt to explain without crying again.

You’d been seeing Jay for a few months now, and you’d truly thought things were going well. Naturally, you were blindsided by his sudden admittance of falling for someone else. Admittedly, you did prefer being told to your face to actually be cheated on - but, damn, it still hurt. 

Minho listened intently as you recounted the conversation, not interrupting even once - save for a hum here and there to show you he was still paying attention. When you finished explaining the reason for your blubbering phone call, Minho sighed softly.

“He didn’t deserve you, anyways,” just as you’d predicted, he’d resorted to his faithful response any time a man had played with your heart.

“How did I know you were gonna say that?” you whispered, a breathy laugh on the tip of your tongue.

“Because you know that it's the truth,” he said with a small smirk, reaching out to ruffle your hair. 

You pulled away, lips pursed into a frown, “Do you really think I’d keep getting into these situations if I knew they’d turn out this way?” You patted down your now-tousled hair as Minho shook his head.

“I suppose you’re right,” he mused, the mischievous glimmer not once leaving his eyes, “Be kinda dumb if you did it on purpose.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, crossing your arms.

Minho simply laughed brightly, taking the movie from where you’d set it next to you as he approached the blu-ray player. 

“You’re really gonna watch it with me?” you asked, genuine surprise in your voice as you opened the pint of ice cream.

“Mhm,” Minho replied, as if it would’ve been obvious. 

“You hate it, though,” you said softly, worried that he was putting himself into a situation he wouldn’t enjoy just for your benefit, “You said it was ‘so mushy you could throw up’ when I tried to show it to you before.”

“You are correct,” Minho said plainly, opening the case to put the disc into the player, “I do hate it.”

He made his way back to the couch, sitting next to you as he grabbed the remote from the table.

“Then why are you watching it, willingly, on purpose?” You questioned, suspicion evident in the way your voice slowed with each descriptor.

“Because I love you, and you love this gooey shit.”

His eyes were focused on the screen as he navigated the menu, for which you were grateful considering the way heat had prickled up your cheeks. It wasn’t as though Minho had never told you he loved you before, but you were typically the instigator in those rare moments of affection.

Of course, you couldn’t show him that his words affected you this way - you’d never live it down.

So you settled for the next best thing - deflection via humor.

“Now you’re so mushy I could throw up,” you nudged his side with your blanket-wrapped shoulder as you teased him, earning a scoff as he hit play.

“This is why I don’t do nice things,” he muttered as though he were annoyed - though the warm smile on his face showed you that he truly wasn’t all that bothered.

“Whatever, you love me,” you said back, focusing your attention towards the tv as the movie began.

“That’s what I said, yes,” Minho nearly whispered, watching you rather than the screen as the opening sequence immediately enraptured you. 

You didn’t see the way his gaze softened as he reaffirmed that he did, in fact, love you. Nor did you pick up on how serious he’d been when he’d said it in the first place. You’d figured he was just being nicer than usual because you were sad, nothing more, and had settled in to watch the movie with the pint of ice cream in your lap.

Minho was kicking himself internally. Why couldn’t he have just…clarified that he meant what he’d said. Why hadn’t he pushed a little farther, finally telling you that he loved you beyond the level which was acceptable between friends? 

He hadn’t expected you to notice his shift in demeanor, let alone point it out. Yet, here you were, staring at his furrowed brow after turning to catch his reaction to a particularly cheesy scene.

“You okay, Minho? You didn’t even gag at that,” your brow was raised as you put another bite of ice cream into your mouth. 

“Hm?” He asked before your words had fully registered, “Yeah, I’m alright,” he said with his best attempt at a reassuring smile.

The benefit to how brutally honest Minho was, was how painfully obvious it was when he was lying.

“Minho…” you urged, turning to face him, “Don’t lie to me, you’re terrible at it.”

He chuckled, glancing over to you as he shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Too late.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I came here because I was worried about you, not for you to worry about me.”

Your lips tightened into a thin line as you stared him down, not budging in your desire to know what he was thinking, “Giving a shit about each other goes both ways,” you reminded him, casually using the terminology he had earlier.

Minho smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time around. He tilted his head as he met your expectant gaze, “Well, well, using my own words against me?” he inquired, raising a brow.

Normally, you’d humor him with a laugh - or at least crack a smile - but Minho appearing to be anything other than okay was a rare enough sight that it took every ounce of your attention - whether you wanted it to or not.

“You aren’t letting this go, are you?” Minho asked after feeling your eyes bore into him for several seconds. His tone had shifted from his typical lighthearted banter to something more vulnerable - something soft, and small.

“No, I’m not,” you confirmed, scooting a bit closer to him in order to place your hand on top of his, “You know you can tell me anything, Min.”

The look of genuine worry in your eyes was enough to send Minho’s heart into a frenzied pace, forcing him to swallow a sudden lump in his throat. 

“I love you,” he said softly, one corner of his lips curling up into a halfhearted smile.

You returned it in kind, squeezing his hand gently, “I love you, too, Minho. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

He laughed humorlessly, looking up to the ceiling before allowing his eyes to meet yours once again, “I just did.”

“What?” You were confused for a few seconds, what he’d meant going right over your head at first.

Until it didn’t.

It hit you like a ton of bricks that Lee Minho, your best friend in the entire world - the man who’d helped you pick up the broken pieces of your heart more times than you could count - just said he loved you.

And meant it.

You felt your eyes turn into saucers as you studied his face, looking for any hint of humor - any clue that he was just joking - as your lips slowly parted.

“You…you mean as more than just a friend, right?” you whispered, a sudden heaviness in your chest as you waited for his answer. Minho had quite the proclivity for pranking you, but something told you that this was definitely not one of those times.

“I thought that was obvious, yeah,” he answered, his snark coming through even in a moment where he was baring his soul. You didn’t blame him, though. You knew him well enough to know that it was only because of how nervous he must be feeling, revealing something so potentially catastrophic.

“This is your one chance to tell me if you’re fucking with me,” you warned, swallowing hard as you stared into his dark eyes - searching for any hint of doubt in their depths.

“I’m not,” he said softly, holding your intense stare with one of his own as he turned his hand over, lacing his slender fingers between yours.

“I swear to God, Minho, if this is some sort of sick joke I’m gonna lose my –” “Goddamnit, it’s not a joke!” he cut you off, his brows furrowing together as he took a deep breath to get control of himself, “I’m…I’m serious.”

“Oh my God…” you whispered, shock still written all over your face as you felt him squeeze your hand tighter, “You’re…you’re really not kidding, are you?”

“I’m really not kidding.”

“You love me?” your words came out slowly, tentative as you continued to search his face.

“Yes,” he answered, smiling softly - relief evident on his face the longer you went without freaking out on him.

“Like…love me, love me?” you pressed, blinking rapidly.

He scoffed, eyes lighting up with a strange mixture of affection and annoyance, “Oh my God, yes! I love you love you, whatever the fuck that means.”

“Minho?” you asked, looking down at your hand joined with his, grazing your thumb across his knuckles gently.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me?”

Minho hadn’t realized how much he’d craved to hear those words escape your lips until they did - sounding like the sweetest song he’d ever heard in his entire life. His free hand came up to cup your cheek delicately, a smirk on his lips as he - in typical Minho fashion - had to get the last word, “I thought you’d never ask.”

You didn’t even have time to so much as roll your eyes before his deceptively soft lips were capturing yours. Your head instantly felt light, as though you were floating, your own empty hand reaching up to rest against his chest. You could feel the hammering of his heart beneath your palm, though his mouth moved with a calm certainty against yours. 

When he finally pulled back, cheeks reddened and lips slightly swollen, he gave you a crooked smile - his eyes sparkling with the familiar mischief you’d come to adore.

You’d come to love.

“What?” you asked him, suddenly self-conscious as you laughed breathlessly.

“I think you were right,” he teased, his lips parting further to reveal a brilliant grin.

“About what?” your confusion must’ve been evident, bringing a light chuckle forth from his lips as they gently brushed yours once more.

“About that ice cream being the best,” he started, smirking as he licked the taste of it from his lips. He pulled back to look you in the eyes, clearly amused.

"Is that so?" You asked, an uncharacteristically flustered giggle bursting forth from your lips.

His smirk evolved into a full, bright, beaming smile before he said in a surprisingly serious voice, “Yeah, I think it’s my favorite now, too.”

permanent taglist: @svintsandghosts

all for nothing | twelve.

♡ series masterlist | spotify playlist

—summary: after experiencing heartbreak and betrayal, hyunjin has become incredibly closed off and reserved. he hated opening up to people, nor did he think the time or effort was worth it. but when hyunjin meets you, he finally realizes the importance of having someone by your side throughout all the ups and downs of life.

—pairing: hyunjin x f. reader

—genre: (18+) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 5.2k

—chapter warnings: hyunjin to the rescue again, surfer hyunjin and seungmin lol, flashbacks in chapter, oc has a moment with hobi, so so many feels and butterflies!!

—a/n: happy new year my loves! thank you for all your support on this blog 🥺wishing you all a safe, healthy and amazing new year <33 you deserve the world and more!

Keep reading