#platonic jisung x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lisired · 4 months

Text

smile for the camera

pairing: haechan x (f) reader x jisung (ft. a reoccurring renjun who’s mainly there for suspenseful purposes)

genre/warnings: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, dom!haechan, switch!jisung, switch!reader, jisung is a virgin, degradation, praise, spanking, pussy slapping, sexting, rough kink, edging, really bad 3some scenes bc I am terrible @ balancing attention, oral (both m/f receiving), f I missed smth lmk

summary: upon accidentally finding a video of you and your boyfriend haechan doing some very sexual things, jisung knows that he shouldn’t watch it. he knows that it would be an extreme invasion of privacy, but he’s unable to control himself when he sees the thumbnail. so he settles for only watching 30 seconds. except, 30 seconds turns into 30 minutes, and by then he’s buried himself too deep into a life-changing situation—or in which jisung’s terrible at keeping secrets.

wored count: 19.8k of pure filfth (what the fuck is wrong with me)

author’s note: this is a repost of an oldie but goldie, i think. i hope. feedback is appreciated!

Fuck.

Jisung knows that there’s a plethora and a half reasons why this is a terrible idea. For one, it’s an invasion of privacy. The thumbnail is explicit, leaving zero room for ignorance—the bare, nearly naked sight of you and Haechan blankets over the screen, and if that isn’t enough to tell him that this isn’t something he was supposed to see, then the rather intimate position you and your boyfriend are in is quite the message.

He didn’t mean to find it. He wasn’t searching, wasn’t looking—not for this video in particular anyways. He was simply going through the camera roll in search of something else, and happened to stumble across what is so obviously you and Haechan’s sextape. If he had known that there was inappropriate things on there, Jisung would have asked for permission before he went on Haechan’s laptop. Yet the shocking discovery has him filled to the brim with curiosity, despite him knowing it would be wrong.

Thirty seconds. I can watch thirty seconds, then cut it off, he thinks. What’s thirty seconds out of a minutes-long video? You and Haechan can go for hours, the sounds you make whenever you stay the night at the dorm keep Jisung up long enough to know that. A part of him doesn’t mind since you sound so sweet, and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take Haechan’s place, to have you crying his name. No, he shakes his head. He doesn’t need to think like that. It’s bad enough that he’s watching this video. So he looks around the room a couple times, even though no one’s home except Renjun, and he’s asleep. Then he reluctantly presses play, turning up the volume a couple notches. He’d never miss the opportunity to hear you.

The tape starts off quick, you already sitting on your knees between your boyfriend’s legs as you took him in your mouth. Haechan pointed the camera in a way that gives Jisung a near-perfect image of what it would be like to have you sucking him off, with your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock and your eyes so round as you gazed up at him innocently. If you looked at him like that, Jisung would probably cum on the spot.

“Gonna show the camera what a whore you are for me?” Haechan said, out of Jisung’s vision for the most part and he prefers it that way. He’d feel too guilty looking at his friend’s face, and of course he’ll feel even more guilty looking at yours, but he’ll suppress those feelings until he inevitably sees you in person.

Then-you nodded a little in response, looking so desperate and eager to please. If only you knew Jisung would be watching this, would you have still agreed to filming yourself so explicitly? He doubts that you would’ve, it isn’t like your relationship has ever been anything other than platonic. He’s nothing more than the best friend of the man you’re dating, of course you only see him as a friend, too. Nothing more.

“Then get to work, baby.”

It took nothing more for you to comply, sucking your boyfriend’s dick in your mouth while your tongue swirled alive. Your hand wrapped around him too, grip not too heavy, yet not too loose either. It’s no surprise to Jisung, but you look amazing with a cock stuffed between your lips and he imagines it’s him instead. You’d probably feel just as good as you look. Honestly, Jisung’s never had anything other than his own hands around his dick, and you look so skilled that he knows you’d be promising.

Even if he couldn’t see, he can hear. Haechan’s a moaner - quite a loud one - and he’s making it obvious you’re doing a great job with how utterly verbal he is. All the moans and praises spilling from between his lips had you soaking and motivated you to work harder.

By the time Jisung thinks to check the timestamp, he’s already more than thirty seconds in. This sends him into mini-panic, but he slowly decides it wouldn’t hurt to watch a little more. So he does, in too deep to stop.

02:05, you looked up at Haechan with a gaze that gets Jisung hard. 06:48, you were gagging because Haechan had gotten a little rough on you, tugging at your hair and using his hands to control you, facefucking you. 07:12, 10:22, 12:57, by the time Jisung’s thirteen minutes in, Haechan’s patience had dissipated and he’d thrown you onto the bed, claiming he wanted to cum in you—not your mouth. Then Jisung has this thought of what it would be like to cum inside you, and wonders if one day you’d ever let him. He knows that you wouldn’t, but it’s still a fun fantasy.

Jisung finds himself enjoying this new angle better. Your whole body is on display, thanks to Haechan taking off your undergarments as well as the remaining portions of his own clothes. He had you on all fours, waiting impatiently for him as he teased your slit from behind you, gliding his cock over it while being careful not to slide in. The moment you whined, Jisung pulls his own dick out, not entirely, but enough to where his fingers can touch him in place of yours.

“So needy,” Haechan cooed, brushing his cock against your wetness, “you’re so wet. All for me, right? Tell me who got you this wet.”

“You,” you muttered.

Haechan drew back, sounding a desperate whimper from you, “Speak up, baby. Can’t hear you.”

“You!” you said it louder, adding something extra you knew your boyfriend would like enough to quit his teasing and finally slide in, “you, Hyuck, only you. Want you s-so bad.”

Just like that, Haechan gave back in, finally slipping himself in and stretching you far and wide. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, gripping your waist and rocking against your hips.

At the same time, Jisung strokes himself, watching the way you let your boyfriend toy with you, how needily you take everything he gives you. He thinks you look beautiful, your back in a pretty arch, your thighs and breast shaking as your body lurches forward at the impact of Haechan’s thrusts, your face—god, do you look gorgeous when you moan. Maybe there is a privilege in being a viewer. Haechan couldn’t, though Jisung can see your face perfectly.

“Harder,” you begged, your voice practically muffled as you whimpered into the pillows and mattress, yet he still heard you, “harder, Hyuck, please, please, please?”

“Baby want’s it harder?” He chuckled. “You’ve been so good for me, so I’ll give you everything my sweet girl wants.”

Watching Haechan touch you in all the places Jisung oh so desperately wishes he was, he feels like he’s going insane. You’re so incredibly fucked out, so out of it that the pleasure has practically locked you inside of a trance. Knowing you’re a sucker for contact, your boyfriend toyed with your body a little more, rubbing your clit to heighten the feeling, slowly yet steadily climbing his hands up your skin until they’re brushing your chest. Jisung moans when you do, unable to shake his urge to be inside you. Just one time, he begs to no one in particular, one time, and he’ll be able to happily move on with his life.

It feels like with every moment that passes, he’s closer to the edge. He’s blocked out everything else in the world, hyper-focused on your body and face. Your mouth agape, the pretty sounds that tumbled loose every time your boyfriend hit the spot, how caught up in the pleasure you were. If you gave him a chance, he thinks he could make you feel good, too. Sure, all the experience he has is with the palm of his hand, and he’s no where near as experienced as your boyfriend, but with a little guidance, he thinks he’d make you crack.

Though right now, he’s about to crack.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jisung’s been here plenty enough times before to know that’s he’s almost there—not necessarily watching you like this, but on those occasions when you stay over and go at it with Haechan during the dead nights where you think no one is awake, where he’s secretly hearing you and shutting his eyes, imagining a twisted fantasy of you and him. He even sometimes does it when you’re not there, getting off to the memory of your pretty lips or gentle fingers, both around his cock. Up until now, it worried him that the thought of fucking your mouth kept crawling stealthily back inside his brain. You’re so gorgeous, so cute and loving. Though upon seeing you beg for Haechan to be rougher with you, witnessing secondhand how you took your boyfriend’s length despite him forcing it down your throat, he thinks you can handle it.

Fuuuuucck. Jisung bites at his bottom lip as he cums, shutting his eyes as the pressure breaks through his body. It’s so intense, taking everything in him not to make noise as his cum shoots into his pants.

When he’s done, it takes him a couple seconds to blink back in. Then the realization of what he’s done hits, following with the guilt and shame of his actions. He always feels bad after he cums to you, but this was different. This time, he had done something inexcusable, and he can’t help but wonder about how you’d feel if you found out. Would you think he’s a creep? Could you ever look at him the same again? Jisung doesn’t think he can live with that, so he quickly exits the tab and discards all evidence of his activity, shutting the laptop and buttoning back up his pants. He’ll definitely need to wash those himself.

Swiftly, he swoops the laptop up, and walks into the hall to put it back. The video he was originally looking for is long-forgotten, and he spent over half an hour watching you and Haechan. Jisung’s a terrible liar. If Haechan comes back before he can put his laptop back, he’s toast.

“Why do you have Haechan’s MacBook?”

Jisung freezes. Fuck, he forget about Renjun.

“I don’t,” he winces, realizing that’s a boldfaced lie. He has puppy stickers on his MacBook. Unmistakable puppy stickers, all your doing. “Okay, so maybe I do—”

Renjun glares.

“Fine, I totally do! But I wasn’t doing anything, I was just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach!” Jisung defends himself like he’s being accused of murder, “You know Haechan keeps everything on his laptop!”

Renjun nods his head. Valid. He’s still skeptical, but he doesn’t care enough to further interrogate the younger, so he just shrugs and walks into the living room. Jisung sighs in relief. He’s gotten away with it for now. Now he just needs to put the laptop back in Haechan’s room and pretend that what happened never actually happened.

Jisung’s been acting weird lately.

No scooting next to you on the couch and lying his head in your lap. No asking you how your day has been. No shyly waving at you whenever you first walk through the dorm door. No awkward hello’s (hell, he’s hardly even speaking to you.)

Even when you try and speak to him, his answers are plain and simple.

How’s your day? Fine.

Did you guys have a good practice? It was nice.

Have you been thinking about trying any new hair colors? Not really.

You don’t think he’s even looking at you. And Jisung’s really not that shy as you originally thought him out to be, after he got to know you a little, he was holding eye contact with you during conversations just fine. He’s a confident speaker even. But you try not to overthink things and try to get used to the emptiness without his normal self, chalking it up to him having a bad week or something. It’s normal, everyone has those.

Mission unsuccessful. You are the queen of overthinking. In fact, you are literally the walking definition of overthinking. If someone Googled the meaning of overthink, your name would probably pop up next to it.

So you turn to your all-time favorite therapist, AKA your boyfriend.

“Is it just me, or has Jisung been acting different lately?”

You’re at the dorms, in the middle of folding laundry. Haechan stands near you, doing absolutely nothing. Normally the guys would absolutely never let you do their laundry, and it’s Haechan’s turn this week, but you offered and somewhat aggressively insisted on folding, so he let you. He knows that you willingly do chores when there’s something on your mind and you’re trying to get it off but you can’t, so he was aware there was only a matter of time before you asked him some ridiculous question.

Your boyfriend blinks, not expecting the question, but if he’s caught off-guard then he conceals it quickly. “Just you, babe.”

You frown, “Think about it. He’s been acting so weird.”

“Jisung’s always weird,” Haechan laughs, “I haven’t noticed anything. He seems the same to me. Why are you so worried about him anyways?”

“Because he’s being weird, Haechan, I’m telling you. He doesn’t wave at or greet me anymore, doesn’t sit next to me during movies, and he won’t even talk to me anymore! I asked him if there was any hair colors he wanted to try and he said not really. He always has a list of hell no’s and shit that’s on his bucket list. This isn’t normal, Hyuck,” you ramble, halting in the middle of folding some Adidas sweatshirt.

Haechan pauses, rewinding a little and realizing that you may have a point. A small point, but a point nonetheless. “Well now that you mentioned it, I don’t remember having to hyper watch him during movie nights.”

“Exactly, because he doesn’t lay in my lap!”

“Thank God, maybe he’s finally learning boundaries,” Haechan says, relieved if that’s the case. Jisung’s never been particularly touchy with you, but he does use you like a human pillow during movie nights. Not that you mine, but your slightly possessive boyfriend does. “I was gonna kill him if he kept that shit up any longer.”

“Babe,” you whine, “seriously.”

“Oh, I am being serious. But I’ll ask the guys if they’ve noticed anything,” and as if perfectly on-cue, Renjun walks into the living room, “Yo Renjun, you think Jisung’s been acting weird lately?”

Renjun shrugs. “Nope, why?”

“Cause y/n thinks he is, and she’s like super worried. Been tryna tell her it’s probably nothing, but you know how she is—”

“Hey!”

Renjun pauses for a couple seconds, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to think. And then it dawns on him. “Wait, the other day I did see him leave his room with your MacBook.”

Haechan furrows his eyebrows. “My MacBook?”

“Yeah, it had puppy stickers on the cover. I asked him why he had it, and he did a whole defensive rant talking about how he was simply, and I quote, ‘just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach’. I hope he never gets interrogated for something serious,” Renjun says coolly.

MacBook. Video. Haechan’s MacBook. Video. Oh god, this cannot be what you think it is. Yet as you gaze at your boyfriend, you can tell he’s thinking the exact same thing as you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans. “When was this?”

“Like four days ago, why?” Renjun questions, utterly confused.

The time lines up, that’s when he started acting distant with you. He definitely saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, tugging your boyfriend’s hair.

The ultimate stress reliever, head from your boyfriend. You’re not even exaggerating, the man eats pussy like his life depends on every lap. In this case particularly however, you’re ninety-nine percent sure he’s more so trying to shut you up by distracting you with something that’ll make you whimper in pleasure instead of distress, and you refuse to go down without a challenge. It is, needless to say, a challenge, especially with how the way that he makes you see stars clouds your mind, but you won’t succumb yet.

“Feel good?” Haechan parts for a split second to speak, then dips right back in unhesitatingly. He really doesn’t have to ask, but you know he only is because he wants to hear it from you, as though your moans aren’t telling enough.

“Yes, f-fuck,” you moan, unable to numb yourself to the pleasure. You wouldn’t even if you could, though it would be useful for you to convey your thoughts right now—the ones that keep slipping away the more he works between your thighs, yet you’re clutching onto them desperately. “But babe, gosh, what about Jisung—”

Haechan draws back, resulting in a whine to sound from you. “Baby, tell me you’re not talking about another man while I’m eating you out.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” you bemoan, “I mean, I could, but I don’t want to. I’m worried about him, you know, like what if he’s traumatized. And what if he never looks at me the same again, he’s never gonna—oh.”

Haechan cuts you off mid-rant by stuffing his fingers inside you, catching you a little off-guard since you hadn’t suspected his actions, or even take notice of how he moved from between your thighs, positioning himself behind you with your back to his chest. “Do you want him to forget?”

His question seems to catch you off-guard a little more. “Huh?”

“Do you want Jisung to forget what he saw?” He repeats. “He saw you naked, baby. He saw you sucking me off, maybe even you getting fucked into this mattress if he’s that nosy. Do you want him to forget that he saw you like that, or do you want him to remember? To get curious?”

If you’re bring frank, the thought has crossed your mind at one point. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself (because you already have a man, how dare you want another?) but a part of you craves Jisung. You think it has for a while, you’re just now coming to terms with it. That doesn’t mean that you don’t want Haechan—you do want him, you love him and you’ll never stop—though you can’t help but want Jisung a little, too.

“I… I don’t know,” you lie, afraid of choosing the wrong answer. How would Haechan take that you want to fuck another guy? And how could you unabashedly admit that to him?

“Stop being complicated, I know that you know,” he pulls away his fingers, as though to punish you for lying, “do you wanna fuck him or not, y/n?”

As expected, you whine once more for the umpteenth time this hour. You’re thinking about answering honestly if it means that he’ll stop denying you pleasure. “Why are you asking me this when you said you’d kill him if he kept lying on my lap!”

“I know what I said, and it has nothing to do with my question. Now if you wanna cum, tell me the truth,” your boyfriend whispers, silk voice giving you goosebumps, “if it helps, I know Jisung and I’m like a hundred-percent sure that he is absolutely anything but traumatized. The horny bastard probably got off to it if anything, and now he’s all embarrassed and worried about you finding out. That’s why he’s avoiding you.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “And not you?”

“I’m assuming it’s because you’re the one he wants to fuck,” Haechan shrugs, “since he’s usually all over you instead of me.”

Well fuck. You hate this. You hate it because if Jisung wants you just as bad as you want him, then something could really happen, and worst of all, Haechan’s okay with that. That’s probably all the reasons you need to love this, but you can’t shake the feeling that something about this is wrong, even if you want it. It’s the same feeling that’s prevented you from accepting how you feel, all of the shame and the guilt inside you. But fuck, are you willing to ignore it. Your moral compass is malfunctioning. You’re malfunctioning, probably. There’s no reason you’re turned on thinking about all the ways you could have both of them, and you can’t say the fantasies aren’t fun. You can’t say that you don’t want to take a chance at living them out. And even though technically, you can, that would most definitely be lying. You’re a woman of truth, and nothing but.

So you decide to tell him the truth.

“I… want him to remember,” you admit, your voice low but audible.

“Course you do,” Haechan crams a pair of his fingers back inside you, prompting a fairly loud gasp from between your lips in response, “you’re such a cock-hungry fucking slut, you’ll never be satisfied with just one, hm?”

“N-no, not a—fuck—slut,” even though you deny it, Haechan feels the way you clench around his fingers when he degrades you. He even felt the way you clenched around them when he described all the ways Jisung’s potentially seen you, and from that moment forward, he knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes, you are, baby,” he disagrees, observing how you moan for him so needily. He thinks about how Jisung felt the moment he saw you like this in that video, so gone and pathetic. Then he remembers Jisung’s horniness is through the roof, and he was definitely turned on. “Such a slut. My greedy slut. Tell me you’re my slut.”

“I-I’m your slut, Hyuck,” you whisper, too caught up in bliss to speak an octave louder without forcing yourself.

Haechan slaps your thigh, and you moan consequently, “Louder.”

“I’m your slut!” you cry, louder than intended, yet your volume pleases him.

Satisfied, he smirks a little to himself. “Good girl. You wanna cum?”

“God, yes,” you’re nodding your head almost violently, “please?”

“Go ahead, baby. Let go for me.”

You’re in a daze-like state, feeling almost lightheaded as you clutch your boyfriend’s thighs for leverage. It’s either extremely early in the morning or extremely late at night and you’re at the dorms again, so you dig your teeth into your lips to try and conceal your moans as you cum, almost too out of it to even do that. Though as many times as you’ve been in this situation, biting back moans until your lips are bleeding, you like to think that you’ve perfected the silent skill.

The moment you come down from your high you lie your head against your boyfriend’s chest, and he whispers into your ear all these sweet praises, telling you how good you are for him. Everything is typical, with him holding you tight and close.

“Now, I want you to hear something,” Haechan says, throwing you off a little.

“Hear what?” You ask, nothing but confused.

“Shh,” he whispers, “listen carefully.”

Allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, your lips press together in absolute silence, and you’re even holding in your breath so that it won’t distract you too much. It takes a couple of seconds, but your ears begin to pick up on the faint sounds of groans coming from the wall that separates Haechan and Jisung’s rooms, which could only mean one thing.

He’s jerking off… to you?

Fuck, why does that turn you on? You wish that you were right there next to him, so that you could perfectly hear how deep his voice is when he grunts like that. Better yet, you wish that you were touching him yourself, so that you could see how his face looks when you make him cum. It isn’t fair. He’s seen you naked, while you’re left with not much more than your imagination.

“Haechan…” you whisper speechlessly.

“I know,” he whispers back. “He’s been doing this every night we fuck when you stay over. I know you’re always too fucked out to hear anything, though.”

Oh, god. The walls are severely thin here, you can only imagine all the noises he’s heard you make over the nights. All the times he’s came, and no wonder you hear him insisting on washing his own laundry. The guys already tease him, saying that it’s because he’s always jacking off, but you’re the sole one that never would’ve thought he was truly this horny—that he’d jack off to you.

“What do we do?” You ask, although your head isn’t exactly blank. It’s just that everything you’re thinking, you’re not sure your boyfriend would approve of.

“Confront him,” Haechan replies, like the answers obvious, and the moment you stare back at him in shock and appalled, he adds, “I’m not mad at you or against it, baby. If you wanna fuck him, then you can once on the condition that I have to be there. I’m sure that horny fuck wouldn’t care.”

You don’t believe your ears. “Really?”

“Yes,” he begins to yawn a little, “but tomorrow. For now let’s go to bed.”

The two of you lie down, and you go to sleep imagining all the possibilities of what could happen within the next twenty-four hours, snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms.

The following day, you and Haechan plan out the confrontation quietly in his bedroom. Since the walls are thinner than you thought, most of your conversation is in hushed whispers and low tone.

Just thinking about it has you excited. If everything goes according to plan—essentially meaning if Jisung doesn’t shy off despite your boyfriend’s insistence on watching instead of participating—then you’ll have him wrapped around your finger, right where you want him. You just hope that he won’t freak out too much.

“You got it?” Haechan whispers once he finishes explaining the rundown of the plan.

It’s nothing like some elaborate scheme, or intricately-detailed ploy. There isn’t much to it but patience and faith in the slight steps to play out in your favor, although the ratio of your amount of the two things is dramatic.

“Yeah,” you reply a little too fast, a little too enthusiastically, “can’t wait.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” he taunts, “you don’t have a choice. But I’ll get the rest of the guys out of here by two, and then you’ll have Virgin Mary all to yourself. He just won’t have you to himself.”

You make a confused face, “What’s with the emphasis on him being a horny virgin?”

“You don’t get why I want to watch, do you?” Haechan asks, and you shake your head. You’ve been tempted to ask, but you’ve already come to terms with the fact that your boyfriend sometimes works in mysterious ways far beyond your comprehension level. “Baby, I doubt Jisung’s gonna know what to do with you. He’s gonna need a couple of pointers plus a push in the right direction. And who knows your body and how to fuck you better than to me?”

No one. Not a single soul. You find it a little embarrassing, but not even you. Haechan didn’t take your virginity, but the first time sure felt like he had—he had reached places you didn’t know were there, let alone reachable, and he made sex seem like something totally new. No one has quite pleased you the way your boyfriend has.

“So you’re going to… teach him?” Is the conclusion you make when you put the pieces together, and Haechan nods.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

That is what you want to call it.

Time passes rather slowly. Every hour feels twice as long, and you feel as though you’re going to die any moment now. The second you hear the sound of the guys piling outside the dorm, there’s a burst of excitement in you, making your stomach turn and swarm with butterflies. (It’s killed briefly when Jaemin rushes back inside, claiming he forgot his phone, but once they drive away you’re filled with bliss once more.)

Jisung steps outside his room, “Where’s everyone going?”

“Away,” Haechan replies vaguely as you two walk back down the hall.

“So it’s just us three?”

“Yep,” you and your boyfriend answer in unison.

Jisung looks absolutely petrified, though not wanting to appear suspicious (he’s kind of late, but it’s the effort that counts) his face soothes soon after. “Cool.” To him, it is anything but cool.

“Cool,” you repeat, “so you wanna watch a movie with us in Haechan’s room?”

“I don’t think I should—”

“Please?” Your eyes are begging him, pleading at him, and for safe measure, you add, “I miss you Sungie, it feels like it’s been forever.”

Truthfully, it hasn’t been anywhere near that long. Though Jisung knows that he’s been extremely distant with you—probably why you feel kicked away—and he feels terrible. Plus, it’s impossible to say no to you, especially when you give him that look, gazing at him like a sad puppy.

He gives in, “Okay.”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. You clutch Jisung’s fist and begin to drag him down the hallway, “Babe go make popcorn!”

Some moments later, everyone’s settled down. The three of you sitting on Haechan’s bed, with you squeezed in the middle like the cream of an oreo. You rest your head on Jisung’s shoulder and he tenses a little at first, though eventually relaxs.

Everything’s going great and according to plan. Jisung looks calm, laughing the movie and being as naturally clingy as he usually is during movie nights. You and Haechan glance at one another occasionally, silently deciding on the perfect moment to strike and telepathically agreeing that that moment is now.

Haechan pauses Netflix, making Jisung whine in complaint. “Why’d you do that? It was getting suspenseful.”

“You’re getting a little comfortable, don’t you think?” Haechan tilts his head.

It takes Jisung a couple of seconds to realize what Haechan’s talking about, but once he does, he quickly separates his hands away from you and scoots over to put a little distance between the two of you.

His face burns like fire. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re a repeat offender, Jisung, sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time,” and before Jisung can apologize again, Haechan adds, “plus, I have another question for you.”

“What is it?” Jisung swallows sharply.

“When you watched that video, did you cum?” It’s you that asks the question this time, much to Jisung’s surprise. He’s chewing hard on his lip, nervousness spelt out across his face.

Still, he plays dumb, holding onto the slim piece of remaining hope he has to consider that maybe this is a joke, that you aren’t serious and don’t actually know he’s seen the video. “W-what video?” Even his own voice betrays him, and Jisung knows from this moment that he’s screwed. Terribly fucking screwed.

“I’m sure you know it very well. The one where she’s giving me head and I’m fucking her into this mattress, remember?” Haechan inquires, a smirk blooming onto his lips as he watches Jisung break.

He’s done, he thinks. You probably hate him. You’re probably disgusted with him, repulsed by him, and appalled that his prying eyes saw you in such a sexual context. He doesn’t look at you, afraid of what he might see, holding his head down low in shame as he’s unable to lie to you anymore. “Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I didn’t, I wasn’t trying—I didn’t mean to, I just… I was just trying to find—”

“That video of me and Jeno from the beach, yes, Renjun told us. But you found something you liked better and just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Something about humiliating Jisung, toying with him a little simply to see how he reacts is fun to Haechan. All of his reactions, needless to say, are amusing; shuffling in his spot; fidgeting with his hands; swallowing and gulping hard; biting his bottom lip; and his eyes widening in panic as his cheeks sting with embarrassment.

You add, “We heard you last night, too. Do you always listen in on us like that?”

Jisung whimpers, “Y/n…”

“Answer my question, Sungie,” you lean into his ear, “do you always listen in on us like that?”

Whenever he’s awake, he definitely does. Jisung isn’t oblivious to the fact that if he can overhear Haechan’s room, then you guys can certainly overhear him in his room, but he thought he was quiet enough to get away with it. You have to give him credit, if Haechan would’ve never pointed it out you probably would have never noticed.

“Y-yes,” he admits in a low murmur, head still hanging low, “I’m sorry, you just sound so pretty when you… make noises, and it wakes me up. But sometimes I stay up and wait because I know you’ll start soon. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? You don’t get it, do you?” You move to straddle his lap, gripping his chin to force eye contact with him. He appears taken aback by your actions, but doesn’t fight them. “If I was mad, we wouldn’t be doing this, Jisung. I’m here because I want you, and you want me, right?”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs as silence prevails over his voice.

“Answer her,” Haechan commands. “Do you want her?”

Jisung chokes out, “Yes.”

Shaking your head in dissatisfaction, you instruct, “Say it. Tell me what you want. Do I have to walk you through it like an ameteur?”

Jisung instantly shakes his head. He’s not a baby, he can do this. “You,” he finds the courage to say, fighting the urge to cower, “I want you.”

“Good boy,” you purr, “but you didn’t answer my first question, so I have some more for you.”

Trying his hardest to conceal how evidently the pet name fazes him while simultaneously bracing himself for the severity of your question, he asks coolly, “What are they?”

You lean back into his ear, but with you in his lap and his hands holding your waist this time, it feels so much different. “Do you moan for me when you cum?” Your voice tickles his neck, but he thinks he that likes it, “do you say my name?”

Fuck. Jisung could get hard at the memory, recalling all the times he’s came to you, moaning your name quietly to himself as he imagines you’re around his cock—your hands, your pussy, your mouth, anything. He’ll take anything as long as it’s from you. The only time he doesn’t moan your name is when he has to be silent, like when he was watching that video of you, in spite of how badly he wanted to call out for you right then and pray that you would somehow answer.

“Yes, fuck,” slowly, all of his shame and dignity is dissipating, “I imagine it’s you,” he mutters.

That gets you going as well. Jisung fucking his hand to the thought of you, pretending that it’s you, and moaning your name as he cums is a sight you’d pay to see. You’re pretty sure he’d send you a video for free though.

Deciding this needs to escalate quicker than it is, Haechan instructs, “Touch her, Jisung.”

“T-touch her?” Jisung repeats back, incredulous that this is the same Haechan who shoots him knife sharp glares whenever he so much as accidentally brushes his fingers against yours during movie nights. “Are you sure?”

“You think I’d ask you to touch my girlfriend if I wasn’t sure?” Haechan deadpans. “Honestly, you’re asking the wrong person.”

So Jisung shifts his focus back to you, and you eye him with these lustful eyes that tell him, scream at him that you want him. It’s so much like a fantasy that he’s half-tempted to pinch himself to test if he’s dreaming or if this is just a wet dream come true. “Can I touch you?” Jisung asks. His eyes are a little wide still, but he sounds so much more confident.

“Please,” you answer, and that’s all it takes for his hands to roam your body.

Jisung’s fingers move gracefully yet like the wild, untamable waver of a flame. As his fingers pull your top above your head, you can’t help but gaze at his fingers, long and bony. Fuck, you can only imagine the places they could reach, and you’re not too proud to say you’ve thought about it on more than one occasion. Because of your willingness to push it away though, the thought hasn’t ever bloomed into a full-on fantasy. Not until now, of course. This time however, you’re finding it perfectly acceptable to wonder.

He struggles to unclasp your bra though, earning a chorus of laughs from you and your boyfriend. But upon seeing Jisung’s flushed face, you try and teach him, with Haechan helping do a perfect demonstration.

Once Jisung thinks he has the hang of it, he says, “Put it back on.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “For what?”

“I want to see if I can do it,” he replies, making you and your boyfriend both scoff. But you indeed put the bra back on, and he successfully takes it off with a dramatic decrease in effort.

You nod in approval, “Good job.”

Jisung realizes he loves being praised by you. And in that same moment, he realizes that there isn’t much he won’t do to satisfy you so that he can hear you praise him some more.

He sucks your nipple into his mouth, fingers fiddling with your other one so that it wouldn’t be neglected. When Haechan talked down on Jisung for being a virgin, it made you think that you would have to teach him everything. But it seems like he’s done his research, because he knows a thing or two. That or he’s just naturally good.

“Shit,” you gasp, “Feels so good, Sungie.”

The look on your face tells him everything. You’re genuinely enjoying this, lips parted as you continue to moan little by little. If Jisung wasn’t hard before, he definitely is now. Something about your moans is severely intoxicating, and being able to hear them, seeing how you look when you moan in person is just on another level that the computer screen doesn’t compare to. It simply doesn’t do you justice.

You’re quickly becoming very needy and impatient. Jisung can feel Haechan’s eyes biting into his skin, silently waiting for the right moment to open his mouth, so Jisung decides not to make any advances on his own in dread of setting your boyfriend off. You on the other hand need him to pick up the pace, so you make the advance for him, picking up him free hand by the wrist and sticking it down your shorts. “Touch me,” you beg him with your mouth and eyes, “Please.”

He looks at Haechan, but surprisingly he’s nodding, urging him on. So Jisung complies, fighting the pitter-patter of his heart against his chest as he rubs you through your panties. You’re wet, he knows that much. Really fucking wet. It turns him on to think that he’s the root of it all, the reason why you’re soaking your underwear, especially because he’s wanted to touch you there for so long. He wonders how long it’ll be before he gets to touch you directly, without some flimsy fabric in the way of all the good stuff.

Lust blinding the two of you results in things to escalate somewhat quickly. It started with Jisung rubbing you through your panties, then you begging him for skin on skin contact, and then a complete change of positions after he hungrily takes off your shorts, finger fucking you as you eventually asked with your back flat against the mattress.

“Pay attention to the angle,” Haechan advises. “You can’t just shove your fingers in her and hope for the best. And don’t let having longer fingers get to your head, it’s pointless if you don’t know how to use them. Same with your dick.”

“I know that,” Jisung hisses. “Just because I’m new to this doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“Just being careful, Ji. You’d be surprised how many people don’t know that. If you’re gonna fuck my girlfriend, I gotta at least make sure you’re doing it right,” you’re almost completely tuned out of the conversation, only picking up on bits of pieces as you’re too concentrated on the way Jisung’s fingers plunge in and out of you, coated in your arousal. “And pay attention to her body, it’ll tell you everything you need to know. See what makes her moan, squirm, beg—all that good stuff—and what doesn’t.”

If Haechan has you muffling screams when you fuck every other night, then Jisung’s sure he knows what he’s talking about, so he silently takes his advice. You seem to be enjoying this, and he wonders how he can take it further, how he can find out where you’re sensitive.

He decides to explore, not exactly letting his fingers run wild but experimenting here and there until he finds the spot. And when you cry out a little suddenly, he’s sure he’s found it. “Fuck,” you cry out in bliss, “Right there, Jisung, god.”

His fingers continue to hit you there, and he tries to burn the spot into his memory. It’s uncertain if he’ll ever get this opportunity again—and that’s when he realizes he should make sure this experience is as pleasurable as possible, just in case this is a once in a lifetime thing—but he wants to remember for safe measure.

For some reason, Jisung has the urge to look at Haechan again, so he does, and sees the man mouthing the words, Pull out.

Jisung is utterly confused. He mouths back, Why?

Just do it, Haechan says.

It takes Jisung a little. He’s reluctant. After all, one look at your face tells him that you’re all blissed out, and he thinks you’re pretty close. So why would he pull his fingers away? The point is to please you, isn’t it? Though not wanting to mess up, he hesitantly does as told.

“Jisung,” you whine when you’re suddenly empty, and Jisung hates it. He wants you to say his name in pleasure, in satisfaction, not like this.

“Haechan told me to!” He defends himself quickly.

“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”

Figuring that you’re wet enough, he turns to look at you. “Can I… can I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you’re literally about to beg, you’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like an eternity, “please do, I can’t wait anymore. Need you so bad, Sungie.”

Jisung feels like he’s out of his mind. A part of him still refuses to believe that this is real, that this is actually happening. That instead of being mad at him for invading your privacy, you’re here begging for him to fuck you. He’s not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you want to fuck him or the fact that Haechan is allowing this to happen, even telling him what to do to please you. You’re begging for him. You’re spreading your legs for him. You’re wet—all for him. It crosses his mind that maybe this isn’t a good idea, but with those three things considered, he can’t bring himself to care anymore. Haechan doesn’t care that he’s fucking his girlfriend, you don’t even care that he’s fucking you, so why should he?

Jisung drops his pants and lets his boxers hit the ground. There’s nothing holding him back anymore, not when he sees you gawking at him (unlike Haechan, he leans more to the lengthy side rather than girthy, though as long as he follows Haechan’s instructions you’re sure you’ll both be fine). It gives him a little ego boost.

“Condom?” He asks.

“You don’t have to use one,” you say, nearly making Jisung’s jaw drop, “just hurry up, please.”

What comes over him as he slides into you is beyond him, but the process is effortless and he just skates in. “Fuck,” he grunts, needing time for himself before he can even move. He’s barely moved an inch, but he can tell the real thing is a billion times better than his palm.

“Start slow,” Haechan says. “You’ve made her want it, but most importantly, you have to make her need it. Make her beg for you to pick up the pace, and then go faster. Not too fast, but not too slow, either.”

Jisung complies, drawing it out a little. With the way you feel around him it’s difficult to resist moving around freely, but then he remembers what he was thinking about making this as pleasure as possible for the two of you and decides it’s worth the wait. Something tells him to grip your waist so he does, his fingers dipping around your hips, and in return you let your hands fly to the empty space on his back.

You’re crying out in pleasure, need, yearning—all of the above. You probably should have expected Haechan to descend his teasing ways onto Jisung. He’s ever so slowly stretching you out, not pushing his whole size into you, but gently wedging it inside bit by bit at an agonizingly slow pace. It’s useful preparation, but once most of his length is sliding in and out of you so leisurely, your patience has ran significantly thin.

“Faster, Jisung. Please,” there’s tears pricking your eyes, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet, “want—no, I need you to fuck me so much.”

“How much?” He asks, catching everyone in the room, including himself, off-guard a little bit, but he doesn’t back down.

“It fucking hurts,” nothing but desperacy fills your tone when you whimper. Luckily enough you’re used to this tormenting treatment from your boyfriend, so you have a couple tricks up your sleeve. “Don’t you want it too, Sungie? You said it yourself that you think about this. Don’t you wanna make your dreams come true?”

Jisung grunts and caves in, allowing himself to move a little faster. He’s honestly tired of torturing you and himself.

“I’m almost impressed,” Haechan begins, nearly startling Jisung as his presence for once almost goes forgotten. It feels a little unnerving to Jisung that he’s been watching so closely, but he refuses to let that get in the way of fucking you. “Keep it up. Talk to her. Definitely not too much to point where’s it gets annoying, but not too little to the point where it’s awkward. Make observations, compliment her, ask her shit like you just did.”

Jisung simply nods in understanding, not bothering to drop some bitter reply. He’s too focused on you, on how you look, on how you feel, and he wonders if he’ll ever have the opportunity to see how you taste. He’s never ate anyone out before, but he thinks that your pussy is so pretty that there’s a first time for everything.

Meanwhile, you’re lost in the realm that is pleasure, savoring the way his dick inches in and out of you, filling you to the brim, slipping out, then pushing back inward. It’s hard to believe Jisung’s winging this—he has to have really been paying attention because he’s so fucking good at this, tip so far kissing all the right places. You like the way he holds your hips, so firm and secure like you’re precious and he’s afraid of shattering you (even though you wouldn’t mind if he did.)

From beside you your boyfriend is groaning, and that’s when you think to shift your gaze in his direction, realizing he’s finally stripped his lower body. His dick is in his palm, tall and erect, and you’re impressed that he’s gone this long without touching himself—or most surprisingly you. As much as Haechan likes to talk down on Jisung for being horny, he can’t blame him because he’s the exact same. Worse, even, especially for you.

“Touch her,” even in this state, Haechan still has pointers to offer, “Anywhere she’s sensitive for extra stimulation. Rub her clit—if you know where it is. Or what it is. Do you even know what that is, Jisung?”

“Yes, I know what it is, Haechan,” As if to prove his point, Jisung drops his hand down to your cunt. If you thought the way his fingers accidentally brushed against you was amazing, you were no where near prepared for the feeling of them toying with your clit. “Right here.”

“Oh, g-god, Jisung,” you stammer out, rocking your hips onto his hand. “More, please. I want more,” he’s quick to obey, applying pleasure to your clit while his fingers softly kiss your cunt in the same motion. “Just like that!”

Some moments pass, all actions consistent though Jisung isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this up. He’s having this fuzzy, trance-like feeling, where everything seems like nothing greater than his imagination. The only reason he knows he’s not dreaming is because of the way you feel around him. It’s like pinching himself, except this is pleasurable. Your bare walls are warm, tight, and wet as ever around him, and he knew from the moment he slid in you that he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.

That video doesn’t compare to this. His fist doesn’t compare to this. He can’t describe it, not with one-hundred percent accuracy, because absolutely no other feeling in the world compares to this. You look so fucked out beneath him, bliss spelt out across your face, and he’s proud that he’s the reason why. He had always known that he could do this with a little help, that he was fully capable of satisfying you. He just never thought that he’d ever be given the chance.

“Shit, y/n. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, the deepness of his voice driving you closer to the edge. You’ve always found it hot, but it’s more extreme with his dick inside you.

Close, I’m close,” you moan, feeling the tightening in your stomach, “are you gonna cum?”

“Shit, y-yeah. Gonna cum. Can I—”

Picking up on what he’s asking before he even has to chance to state it himself, you say, responding a little over-eagerly, “Yes, fuck, cum in me. Please don’t pull out.”

You’re seeing stars, you swear. Bright white twinkling ones that cloud your vision as you cum, digging your nails into Jisung’s back. It helps that he’s rubbing you in your most sensitive area, fucking you so perfectly, and that Haechan’s sweet moans are audible beside you. You aren’t sure who cums first between the three of you, but you do know his cum is leaking from your cunt after his hips stutter to a stop, and he can’t help but fill you with a load of white.

It takes you a long while to collect your breath. But afterwards your boyfriend swoops you into his arms, placing you in his care once the deed is done. “Last pointer,” he says, “always check up on the person you’re fucking. Good aftercare is extremely important after sex.”

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, and you find it cute how his eyes look so filled with concern.

“Seriously never been better,” you manage to respond through heavy breaths. “Haechan, can you join us next time?”

Haechan looks repulsed by the idea. “Who said there was going to be a next time?” This saddens you considerably, and Jisung too, but he does a better job at concealing it. “You did good, Jisung. Hope you find your own person to use your new skills on. C’mon babe, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You follow your boyfriend into the bathroom, and Jisung sees himself out. At least he has new material to jack off to, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t feel you again. You’re just too good to give away, so he understands why Haechan is so determined to keep you to himself.

But fuck, you’re too sweet to let go of.

“Ever heard the phrase sex is a remedy?”

“No.”

“That’s because I just made it up,” Haechan grins, and you roll your eyes consequently.

It proves true in some circumstances, you’ll give him that. Prime example: Jisung. Ever since that day, things between you have cooled. He started sitting next to you during movie nights again, even going as far putting his head in your lap (much to Haechan’s annoyance), actually talks to you, and looks at you (maybe a little too much.)

Yet surprisingly, he doesn’t seem that bashful anymore. It isn’t like he’s ever been the type to shy away, though this is next-level. No more shy waves or meek hello’s. No more weak eye contact. No more hesitance in touching you, despite him potentially being able to piss your boyfriend off. He’s so relaxed, so calm and so certain of his actions, and you kind of like it. There’s a chance the sex got to his head a little, but perhaps it was a push in the right direction and plus, you find confidence very sexy.

But you push these thoughts away as fast as they come. Whatever you had with Jisung is done, it can’t happen again. You all had your fun, now it’s time to let it go.

You pout, “Why are you leaving me alone for so long? I’m gonna miss you.”

Haechan’s going out with some of the guys to handle what he titles manly affairs. If you didn’t know any better you’d say that probably translates to I’m going somewhere to play video games, but you saw Jeno in his gym shorts. They’re definitely about to go hit the gym.

“Relax, I’m going to be back in a couple of hours and you aren’t alone—Renjun and Jisung will still be here to keep you company. Speaking of which, Renjun said that if you keep treating this like a second home he’s gonna start making you split the rent with us,” your boyfriend snickers.

“I was joking!” Renjun shouts from the hall, coincidentally walking down at the same time you happen to be talking about him.

“I think Renjun should mind his own business,” you say, and he rolls his eyes prior to stepping inside the bathroom. “And why aren’t they going with the rest of you?”

“Won rock paper scissors,” Haechan mutters, “but back to what I was saying about sex being a remedy, I promise I’ll make you cum at least three times when I get back.”

“Why three?”

“Because I don’t think you can handle four,” your boyfriend kisses you on the lips for a second so short it feels unreal, and you’re torn between focusing on that or informing him that he sounds like that one Reese’s commercial, “but I gotta go. See you later, babe, love you!”

“I love you more!”

“No, I love you mo—wait. I see what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work,” he catches on, earning a gloomy frown from you. At least you tried. “Now goodbye, I love you most!”

“No, I—” before you can even chuck out half your sentence, the door is rudely shut in your face.

You huff. He cheated.

Alas, you’re left alone. Flopping down onto the couch, you consider that Renjun’s probably right about you overstaying your welcome, though it isn’t like you’re here all day every day. Two days a week at most. You have your own lovely apartment free of men that fight over video games and superior pizza toppings. Speaking of men, you’re tempted to go annoy Renjun in order to pass the time, but then Jisung creeps from the shadows of his room and you’re suddenly no longer interested in the former.

“Sungie!”

You don’t seem to notice the look on his face when you call him that, and even if you did, you wouldn’t have been able to make out what it meant. It’s fleeting, gone before it’s ever really there. Jisung covers it up with a smile, though can’t help but feel the nickname has an entirely different feeling. It used to be cute—innocent and sweet. But then he heard you begging for him and that changed his perception of the word forever.

He figures that he should probably let it go, though. It happened almost a week ago, the sex. It was fun, he knows that. All parties enjoyed it, he knows that too, but he also knows that Haechan would never let it happen again. Hell, he’s still surprised that he let it happen a first time.

“Y/n,” he smiles cheerily, joining you on the couch. You sit upright to make room for him. “you’re here while Haechan’s not?”

“Oh, yeah. All my clothes that I have here are dirty so I’m waiting for them to finish washing and drying,” you explain, Jisung listening and nodding understandingly, “I also don’t feel like driving.”

Jisung laughs, “I can’t drive so I’d be zero help with that, but I can help with your laundry. Do you need any assistance?”

“I’m good,” you shake your head. “Thanks, though.”

Jisung nods. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

You both know shit is anything but cool. And if you’re being completely honest, the silence that fills the room is a tad bit awkward. You’re sure you’re both thinking the same thing, though neither of you want to say it. However, there’s a major difference between a want and a need.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” he initiates.

You sigh—in relief or not, Jisung can’t tell. “So I’m not the only one who realized.”

So, maybe your analogy was slightly wrong. Maybe sex wasn’t a perfect remedy for your Jisung situation. Or maybe Haechan’s made-up saying needs some clarification: sex is a temporary remedy, that eventually subsides into a plethora of other problems.

False advertisement.

“Yeah,” Jisung chews at his lip, “it’s been gnawing at me for a while. I mean, I get that it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but I can’t be the only one that’s having trouble forgetting.”

He isn’t, much to your misfortune, and it’s been gnawing at you. It’s even worse since Haechan hasn’t acknowledged that day since it happened, and you don’t have it in you to bring it up this time. You know he’s down to try lots of things, though at some point there’s a line you know better than to cross.

Yet the lingering memory is still tattooed onto your brain, and you can’t simply forget how wonderful it felt for Jisung to touch you; how good and deep he felt inside you; how perfectly his fingers felt on your clit; how blissful you felt when you came in his embrace. It doesn’t help that Jisung is impossibly attractive, and you can’t help but want to do things to him, or let him do things to you—you couldn’t care less.

“No, me too,” this time it’s you struggling to hold eye contact, opting to look down, “but Haechan already has, and is it really worth going behind his back?”

Jisung pokes his cheek. “I know. We don’t have to act on it, I just wanted to get it off my chest.”

“Okay.” You look up at him again. He’s still looking at you, unfaltering. “Wanna watch a movie with me?”

He nods a little. “Yeah. Sure.”

Fetching the remote, you open Netflix under Chenle’s account (poor him. The cons of sucking at GamePigeon 8ball.) and select a movie. It’s nothing spectacular, but holds your attention fairly well for a while. Nothing new seemingly happens with Jisung—he’s not on your lap, though still touchy, replacing his head with his hand as he lies his head on your shoulder. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. As if things couldn’t get any worse, your body refuses to listen to your brain, allowing itself to look at his hands as your brain shouts at it not to. With the sight of his fingers planted firmly into your brain, showering little seeds, it’s impossible to forget those six days ago. Even if you try and push the memory away, it’s helpless. Your body remembers, and doesn’t want to forget.

His slender fingers plunging inside you is all you can think about. You shut your eyes, yet the image burns into your eyelids. You open them again, yet it’s still there, fueled more by sight of his fingers close to you. It doesn’t help that they’re dangerously close to the inside of your thighs, the proximity making you sweat.

“Are we gonna pretend you don’t want me to finger you right now?”

His voice startles you. Jisung knows you think he hasn’t caught you, but he does—he did. It’s impossible to ignore the burn of your stare.

Fuck, when did he get so bold? “Jisung,” you whine, already sensing this is going to head in a direction you simultaneously do and don’t wish for it to.

“I want to do the right thing, I really do, but it isn’t easy knowing you want me, I want you, and we’re not doing anything about it,” he’s slowly rubbing circles onto your thigh, which is significantly bare since you’re in un-lengthy Dolphin shorts, “can’t we do it one more time? Fuck it out?”

“You and I both know that if we do it again this won’t be the last time,” you say.

He doesn’t look half-bothered by the idea. “That’s not something we have to worry about right now though, right?”

Fuck.

You know better than to give in like this, but it’s much too late the moment he sneaks you inside his room and lies you flat on his bed. You also know that you could stop at any time you wish, but as terrible as it sounds, you don’t want to stop. It’s basically been said that you’ll deal with the consequences later, letting impulsivity win.

“Can I taste you?” His voices sounds so hot when he says this. You can’t help but nod, allowing himself to have his way with you.

Jisung tugs down your shorts in fervor, your panties following suit and meeting one another in a growing pile on the floor. He’s seen it before, though he can’t help but gawk at the sight your cunt, dripping with arousal and he’s hardly even touched you. You’re so pretty to him that he can’t help but run a finger through your folds, spurred on further when you gasp aloud.

“Never done this before,” he says, yet he sounds ready as ever, “so tell me what to do.”

Impatiently, you nod. “Just go with the flow and I’ll help you from there.”

Your eager motion and the way you buck your hips up is more than enough to signal to Jisung that you’re ready. He takes it as you giving him the green light to begin, tongue experimentally prodding against your folds. It’s like all his hesitance dissipates the moment he gets a hold of you, as though the mere taste of you has put a spell on him that he can’t wake up from. He isn’t sure what comes over him in this moment, though he knows that he wants to savor it—the taste, the feeling, the craving. A single taste of you is enough to fill him with greed and then he’s eating you out like he just can’t get enough of you, as though there’s a burning fervor coursing through his veins that can’t be ceased.

“Sungie,” you cry. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been given head and you’d consider that a while, so the relief is extra phenomenal. You’re sure that even if it had been yesterday, you’d be just as weak to his touch.

Then, so torturously, he pulls away. Before you can complain, Jisung shushes you. “I’m sorry, but you have to be quiet. Renjun’s here.”

Your eyes widen slightly. You had honestly completely forgotten about the other, though fortunately, this isn’t your first rodeo. If there’s anything sneaking around in the middle of the night with Haechan has taught you, it’s how to be quiet. The only reason Jisung’s overheard you is because his room happens to be directly next to the one that your boyfriend owns.

“I can be quiet,” you murmur.

Jisung scoffs. “Sure, you can.”

Affronted, you’re inclined to protest, until Jisung’s lips meet your pussy again and you’re silenced, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to muffle any potential sounds you might make. He picks up again, listening with super-sense to the quiet moans you utter as you’re unable to hold all of the volume in. It helps him apply his knowledge, playing close mind to what garners pleased reactions from you and your body.

His tongue skirts around, and he gets the wonderful idea to target your clit. The moment the muscle swirls it’s way there, you know that staying quiet is gonna be more difficult than you thought. Your lips nearly shudder shut and he pushes them open, his grip firm as he spreads you apart ever so gently.

“G-good, feels so good,” you moan softly, careful to lower your volume, “you’re doing so well.”

Jisung’s tongue is anything but gentle, however. Spurred on, he darts his tongue like it knows magical spells of it’s own, putting one on you that you fall deeper into with every stroke. The pressure feels amazing, and you can practically feel your heartbeat between your thighs. It’s honestly admirable how quick of a learner he is, paying full attention to how your body responds to his touch and solely acting on that. No previous experiences, just you and his intuition.

You really don’t have to tell him what to do. If there’s any question, you naturally give him the perfect answer. When you moan, when you whimper, when you beg. When your thighs quiver and your hips buck up in greed, it’s all a telltale signal of arousal, perfect sign of pleasure. In the moment, your fingers reach for his hair, threading through his locks and drawing him closer to you desperately. You want to feel this to the maximum, until you quite literally are numb.

It’s a miracle that you’re far from numb right now though, feeling every lap. He’s making you feel so good and it’s so hard to stay silent to the point where you’re contemplating stuffing your fist in your mouth. If Jisung was extra nosy, he would have seen another video of you and Haechan on his MacBook, a video of Haechan eating you out while everyone else was seemingly asleep. You wonder if Jisung was listening in that night, if he heard your muffled sounds after Haechan stuffed your mouth with your panties. Gosh, you aren’t sure why the thought of him hearing you in such lewd ways still arouses you. You just know that you want him to have you, you want to pry into his mind and carry out every fantasy he’s ever imagined as he got off to the sound of you.

If this was amazing, you don’t think that there’s an accurate word in the dictionary to describe the feeling of what Jisung does next. He presses his tongue inside you, his hand replacing his mouth as he simultaneously plays with your clit. Your whole body feels hot now, like piece by piece, you’re being consumed by fire.

Between watching you struggle to conceal your moans, and the way your face scrunched in pleasure as you do, he doesn’t know what’s hotter. He could do this forever if it meant seeing you break on his tongue like this. Hastily your resolve is cracking, and he knows he could have you wrapped around his finger. In fact, he thinks he probably already does. It may be wrong, though it’s only fair since you’ve had him wrapped around yours since the moment he met you.

Then he notices something—your moans are getting louder, your thighs are quaking more, and overall you look so much more blissed out. That could mean only one thing: you’re close. He knows he doesn’t have to, but he pulls away.

“Jisung!” if it wasn’t for the fact that Renjun was home, you think that you’d probably scream your lungs off. You’re also beginning to think that Haechan influencing Jisung was a bad decision. “You know that you don’t have to edge me, right? Like, even if I cum from foreplay, you can make me cum again.”

“I know,” he smiles, licking your juices off his mouth, “but I wanted to.”

Scratch that. It was a horrible decision. Now, Jisung’s equally as much of a sadistic piece of shit as Haechan.

Before you can whine, he says, “But I’ll make it up to you, if you let me,” he starts palming you with his hand, earning these little moans from you. Then he looks at you, with that pretty gleam in his eye that makes you want to fuck the shit out of him. “Will you let me?”

Ultimately, you let him. It didn’t take much for you to cave in—he had already given you head, aroused you yet refused to let you cum, so now you’re desperate for an orgasm. Plus, this has already gone too far. It might’ve not done any wrong to stop things from going any further, yet it isn’t like it would do any good, either. You’re in too deep, once you’ve started you can’t stop.

Jisung undresses you, showing you that he remembers how to unclasp a bra, and then he undresses himself. The sight of your naked body isn’t foreign to him anymore, yet he’ll still continue to marvel as though it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Fuck that—it is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I wanna ride you,” you say, snapping him out of his daze.

He blinks dumbly. “Huh?”

Gently, you push him onto his back. “I wanna ride you,” his eyes are on you, watching you with a lustful shadow dimming his eyes. “Are you gonna let me?”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” he tells you, gaze never once leaving yours.

Fuck, he’s so damn hot.

You straddle him, and once your knees are on either side of him you sink onto his dick, a sound of relief being drawn from both of you. Instantly you feel so full, yet that doesn’t stop the need built up inside you from yelling for a release. You allow yourself to adjust all over again before you start really moving, grinding onto him.

The stretch almost makes it feel like you’ve never been here before but you take it, fingers clutching his shoulders for leverage as his arms anchor around your waist, keeping you in close proximity. You’ve allowed him to go in bare again so the feeling is as raw as it was the first time around, yet Jisung still doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. How your walls tighten around his dick, how the wet squelch of your cunt sounds when he enters you. It’s fucking mesmerizing—you’re fucking mesmerizing, and he’s happy to have you all to himself even if it’s for a moment.

“How does it feel, Sungie?” You ask, already having your answer when you look at his face.

The same way Jisung can see through you, he’s like glass to you, a mirror even. He’s beautiful beneath you, face scrunched up in pleasure, and the tightening grip on your waist is a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying this. It’s entertaining hearing him trying not to moan, his sounds muffled as deep little grunts that you’re sure he’s oblivious of how fucking sexy they are. In contrast you can’t stop thinking about what lives rent-free in your mind, wishing you could be louder so that you’d hear the full extent of his beautiful sounds.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, surprising yet pleasing you. If he keeps up the sexy noises, you’re going to cum hard.

You smile, “All for you.”

In this particular moment, it is all for him, and that’s enough for him. He likes that he’s able to get you wet, he likes that he turns you on, he likes that you want him, he likes that he has so much control and influence over your body. And you like when he treats you like you’re his.

Jisung also enjoys watching you fuck yourself on him, ever so desperately chasing your orgasm. He hates denying you it, but that unfortunately doesn’t make Haechan any less right. It is a part of the fun because it makes you needier, and there’s nothing he loves more than seeing you all delicate and fragile, so greedy for his touch. And in your determination to cum, you’re using his shoulders to hold yourself together as your pussy swallows his dick. He knows it’s going to be a sight when you actually do cum, to see you fall apart on top of him as you finally reach your climax.

His gaze lingering on your body, Jisung suddenly feels the urge to touch you. You’re so beautiful all over, it’s only right that he appreciates every aspect of your body equally. Slowly, he drags his hands up from your waist to your breast, fundling with your breast. His fingers graze over your nipples and when you gasp, he can’t contain his smile. You’re so sensitive there, it’s so fun to mess with you simply to see you react.

“Your body’s so beautiful,” he’s really just thinking aloud at this point, but you enjoy the compliment, especially as you notice the in-awe gleam in his eyes. He looks like he’s seen you pluck a star from the sky, or summon the moon with your palm.

That’s when he gets an idea. One he’s always daydreamed about, yet never thought to ask you until now, when he’s thinking of all the ways to show your body love. “Is it okay if I kiss you? Not on the lips, but your skin.”

He thinks it sounds weird to ask, but you’re delighted by the question. “Y-yeah,” you answer mid-moan, and you can feel his dick twitching inside you, “just don’t bite or suck or do anything that’ll leave a trail and make marks.”

He hadn’t even thought about marking you, though now that you mention it, he really wishes he had the chance. He’s ignored the faint ones that linger on your body from your boyfriend, fading blotches of color. Instead, he does what he can, delivering little kisses to your skin. It starts from the valley of your breast, and slowly yet steadily falls down.

Jisung notices your breath getting shallower when you kiss him. When he passes by your breast, he makes sure to flick at your nipples with his tongue, driving an unsuspecting mewl from you. His kisses leave a hot sensation all over your body, like some kind of Midas Touch where everything he touches feel like fire. It’s a kind of fire you don’t want to be put out, that you want to let it’s flames eat at you and burn you. That’s exactly what Jisung’s touch does, and it’s driving you crazy. You don’t know how long you can keep this up before you have to let go.

You’re fucking yourself onto him at a steady rhythm, biting your lip profusely as you rock yourself against him, finding the spot that drives you to insanity. You look so fucked out but Jisung’s not any better, struggling just as much as you are to keep your sounds in. He’s so vocal, and you’d appreciate it more if it weren’t for Renjun being only some yards away.

You think of the perfect way to shush him, leaning in to crash your lips against his. With your eyes shut, you miss the way his go wide, yet he lets your mouth guide him and sinks his hands back around your waist. After all, he did say that you could do whatever you wanted with him.

Once you’ve confirmed he’s not backing away, you shift your hands from his shoulders to his hair, carding your fingers through there and drawing him closer this way. A particular movement causes him to moan in your mouth, and by then you feel beyond ecstatic. You feel high off of the pleasure, senses heightened and everything around you seems to slow. It’s a beautiful moment, filled with heavy breath and low moans, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Jisung pulls away, panting, “I’m not going to last.”

You guess that gives you your answer, because you’re so in sync, your body’s mirroring one another.

“Me neither. Fill me up, Sungie. Please.”

You’re clenching around him repeatedly, and he’s sure that’s what triggers his orgasm. That’s when Jisung meets his breaking point, biting his lip as his cum shoots inside you, yet you’re still close enough to hear the deep sound of his perfect groans. He recalls thinking that having you like this one tike would be enough for him to move on from you, but he’s onto his second and it’s already been somewhat established that there’s plenty more where this comes from. You just feel too good, more than he could have ever imagined.

The way you draw his name when you cum, clutching onto him so tightly as you work your way through his orgasm before leaning against his shoulders, it’s enough to spur him on once more. He’s realizing that he could seriously do this forever—you’re that addicting.

“Are you okay?” He asks through heavy breathing, holding you to his chest.

“I’m good,” you sigh, satisfied. “Thighs are kinda sore, but I’m good. What about you?”

Jisung rubs your thighs gently, but replies honestly, “I want to go again.”

You’re honestly astonished. You already knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, however you also didn’t expect the third to be so soon. You’ve hardly relaxed from this round, and the ache in your thighs is screaming at you to slow it down.

“My thighs ache, Jisung,” you laugh.

He pushes you onto your back, moving his head between your legs again and kissing softly at your thighs. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers between kisses. “If you let me,” he gazes up at you, meeting your eyes. “Will you let me?”

In that moment, you feel purely hypnotized by him. Something tells you that this is a bad idea and that it’s getting out of hand, but it’s been that way since the moment this begun. You know it sounds corny, but though it’s wrong, you can’t stop this from feeling so fucking right.

And in that same moment, you realize that you’ll also let him do whatever he wants with you.

Sneaking around with Jisung becomes routine.

It’s like you two just can’t get enough of each other, drawn to the other’s body as though there’s some magnetic force between you, as though he’s a moth and you’re his flame.

When everyone’s back is turned, you find time to one another. Sometimes when the guys go away. Sometimes when they’re all asleep. Sometimes you even invite him over to the solace of your home, with no roommates, no one like you who uses the WiFi and the Netflix without paying even a quarter of a bill. Him and you. No more, no less.

Times such as now. Times when he has you backed against your front door as soon as he steps inside your apartment, out of sheer desperation. It isn’t always like this, sometimes you take turns taking control. Sometimes you fight for it until the other submits. Sometimes you’re so desperate for each other that neither of you can even think to care about control, just submitting to the desire in your bodies.

“Missed you, too,” you take his eager actions as a non-verbal way of saying I missed you. You gasp when he doesn’t respond, just pressing his lips to your skin. He doesn’t suck or bite, God knows he wants to though he knows better, but shows love to your body as he slides your shirt off.

It’s been longer than it usually is since the last time you’ve seen him, so he has every right to behave like a touch-starved virgin again. “God, I really fucking missed you,” he grumbles in your ear, cupping your chest. You bet he does. The reason you haven’t met up until now is because you two haven’t had the opportunity. It’s either the guy’s have been around more often, you’re prioritizing Haechan, or one of you are too busy and burdened with work to find time.

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he’s entirely clueless.

It isn’t like either of you are stupid enough to downright stick a hand down the other’s pants, however you’re still too touchy. Your fingers soothe through Jisung’s hair as his head lies in your lap, or his hand rests near the danger-zone of your thigh.

Haechan hasn’t brought this up, though you still feel the sting of his stare and it burns mightily. As a solution, you’ve come to the agreement to keep the contact to a minimum as long as he’s around, and use your place more often so that you aren’t starving each other of touch completely. It’s a solid plan. Haechan visits your place occasionally though not nearly as much as you visit the dorms, so you figure you two should be safe.

“Do you?” Jisung nods, not missing a beat and staring you down with the most hungry eyes. “Then show me, Sungie. Prove it.”

That’s all it takes for him to lead you to the couch and fuck you until you can’t even think — however if you could, you’d think that you honestly can’t handle it anymore.

There’s been times where you’ve almost been caught. Most recently, during the middle of the night the last time you stayed the night at the dorms. You decided to meet Jisung in his room for a quickie, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp and tiptoeing down the halls, thanking god that Haechan’s a heavy sleeper.

The minute you hooked your hand on his doorknob, you were given the scare of your life by no other than Huang Renjun (you swear, he’s always in the hallway at the most inconvenient of times ever.)

“What are you doing?”

You jumped. High as a Kangaroo. Turning to see who had caught you, you nearly let out a relieved breath when you realized it wasn’t Haechan. Then you realized it was Renjun, and all the panic in you resurfaced like clockwork.

Luckily, your lying skills are nothing short of impeccable because you follow one simple rule: don’t lie more than you have to.

“Going into Jisung’s room,” you answer honestly.

Renjun quirked his eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t he asleep?”

“Oh, you know how he is. Afraid of everything under the sun, and he texted me that he had a bad nightmare so I volunteered to be his human teddy bear until he falls asleep.”

“Typical,” Renjun snorted, but he looked more convinced than you thought he would. “Good night, then. And tell him I said to grow up.”

Putting forward your best, oscar-worthy laugh, you told him goodnight back as he slipped away to his room, and you finally entered Jisung’s, shutting the door behind you and trying desperately hard not to laugh as you saw his face.

He frowned, “Scared of everything under the sun? Human teddy bear? Seriously?”

“You should be grateful that my oscar-worthy performance kept us from being found out,” you replied as you walked to his bed. It wasn’t unrealistic, Jisung doesn’t have nightmares as much as he used to anymore, though he’s certainly a scaredy-cat. You have no idea how he found the balls to sneak around with you. “Actually, I think I deserve a reward.”

Jisung pulled your shorts down your ankles, “You think so?”

“I do,” you smiled.

“Then,” Jisung paused to kiss you, addicted to the feeling of your lips ever since you first pressed them against his. It was a craving he didn’t even know he had until you gave him a taste. “Let me reward you.”

“This isn’t gonna be a quickie, is it?”

“Bet me,” he said, a little smirk on his lips that he slightly tried to hide. “How fast you think I can make you cum.”

He’s insane. That’s the conclusion you’d drawn from every moment you’ve spent naked beside him. You can’t deny it though, you like it, even if it’s a little dangerous and very unwise.

You furrowed your brows, “Bet? Like, money? Or orgasms?”

An even better currency in mind, Jisung shook his head. “Rounds.”

You knew what that meant. Jisung wanted you to himself. He was never satisfied with only one round — even if it meant overstimulating himself, he was desperate to have you until neither of you could continue, sore and exhausted from the work.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Six minutes. If you can’t, you get one round. If you can, then gosh, you deserve as many rounds as you want.”

To be honest, you never pay much attention to how fast he makes you cum, too caught up in the moment to even consider the amount of time you’d spent in that way, skin on skin, body to body. So the only person you’re sure has made you cum in six minutes or less is Haechan, because you explicitly remember him setting a timer to prove himself to you.

In spite of all that, Jisung looked confident. He passed you his iPhone and shifted to your bottom half, pushing your thighs open. “I’m ready when you are.”

Nodding, you set the clock.

Long story short, Jisung had as much fun as he wanted with you that night.

You’ve also been setting precautions. If it’s too risky for you to see each other in person, then you settle for exchanging nudes and things alike.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t actually intended for it to. It was more of a joke, you were texting each other and you playfully suggested that Jisung should send you a video of his own as reparations for his snooping. When he didn’t respond for a while you had your suspensions, but you didn’t think he’d actually hit you back with a video of himself, stroking his dick and moaning your name with a tremble in his voice.

In that moment you were given an idea of what it was like when he got off to your moans in another room, how he sounded and not so much how he looked since the focus was never really on his face, but you’ve seen his blissed-out expressions enough to come up with it on your own. It turned you on, enough to make you send back a video of your own, and from that day on it became a bad habit of yours to exchange explicit images and videos whenever you were separated.

It’s so late at night yet so early in the morning when the text hits your phone, I need you.

He caught you at a good time. Feeling hot and bothered yourself, you were honestly about to fetch your vibrator from it’s hiding spot in your closet because you knew your boyfriend had fallen asleep and assumed that Jisung had as well, at least until he texted you.

How bad is it? You send back, instead choosing to lie back on your bed, resting on your stomach as you wait for the typing bubble to transform into some type of message.

This bad. The attachment makes you bite your lip after he sends it. Sometimes when Jisung sends nudes of himself he isn’t very nude, he likes to send dick prints to tease you because he knows you want the full image. Though this time, his pants and boxers are discarded, he has his hand curled around the base of his erect dick, and you can tell at once that he’s much too desperate to be in the position to tease you. In fact, he’s probably hoping you’ll be generous to him.

He’s needy as hell right now, you can feel it. And how cruel would it be of you to not help him?

You grab your vibrator and prop your phone on your pillow, positioning it so that it’d film you perfectly. It’s late, and you have work tomorrow so you don’t have that much time to sext with Jisung, so you instead decide to send him a video you know will last him for now. You press record, and wiggle yourself out of your panties exaggeratedly, knowing he’ll love the gesture. He always does. Then you spread your thighs apart, enough so that he’d easily be able to see how wet you are. For a while you tease yourself with your fingers, allowing little moans to fall from your lips before you desperately reach for your vibrator.

The feeling of it against you almost makes you forget that there’s a camera watching you, and that this is supposed to be for Jisung more than it is for you. You’re not worried, however. The thought of him has successfully infiltrated your mind, and you can’t help but moan his name louder than your ears can register. With your eyes firmly shut, you’re imagining it’s him between your thighs—his dick, his mouth, anything. In this moment you, don’t care. You can’t care.

“J-jisung,” you whimper when you’re close, not once, not twice, but several times in a chant-like manner. You can only imagine how much he’ll love that, and if he wasn’t hard already, it would’ve certainly did the trick.

It feels explosive when you cum—literally. That’s when you come to the realization that you’ve squirted, and you find it a nice touch to end the video with. You send the message Good night to Jisung, making sure to attach the video before preparing for bed.

The next day when you find some free time, Jisung calls you briefly and asks you to come over, informing you that the guy’s are away and won’t be back for some hours.

Of course you’d never miss the opportunity to see him, and you were there in record-time, wearing a cute skirt you know he likes. Time is blur when he opens the door for you, and you hardly remember what happened in the time between you walking inside and him sitting you atop the kitchen counter.

He slithers his hand up your skirt, making you sigh in pleasure when he rubs you through your panties.

“Missed this so much,” Jisung murmurs, acting as though he hasn’t seen you in days. You didn’t think it was possible, but somehow you’ve turned him from a virgin to a sex addict. He’s seriously a fiend for you, but you don’t mind it.

You snort. “You always miss me.”

“Yeah, well,” you can sense the disappointment in his voice, but you don’t know where it’s coming from, “I miss you more now because you kinda left me hanging last night.”

Is he talking about you not sexting him? There’s no way, you sent him a whole video. He isn’t entirely insatiable. “What do you mean? I sent you a video?”

“No, you didn’t,” when Jisung fills you stiffen in his grasp, he stops and steps back. The realization creeps up on him as quickly as it does you.

Your voice at a whisper, you quietly muse, “Then who did I send it to?”

“Me.”

You think you’re going to be sick. You don’t even have to turn your head, you can tell it’s Haechan from the sound of his voice. Still you do, your heart hammering against your chest as you look him the eyes. He’s standing by the door and you have no idea how long he’s been there, but you know it’s definitely been too long.

“Hyung,” Jisung looks equally horrified, “I thought you left.”

That’s right. Jisung did tell you everyone had left, and it surely seemed like they had. No cars outside, the apartment was quiet, and void of all life save for you and him. You had made a mistake, and fuck, so did he.

“I was asleep,” Haechan shrugs discardingly, too nonchalant to be relaxing. “Having fun here, aren’t we?”

You start, “Haechan, I—”

“Can explain? I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he’s upset, and it’s finally seeping through his calm demeanor. “When I saw that video I’m thinking I’m waking up to a sweet morning surprise from my girlfriend, ya’know, and then I hear you moaning my best friend’s fucking name,” his gaze pans to Jisung, who then practically cowers.

Fear has consumed half your body, though lust consumed the other half. You can’t help but bite your lip at the way your boyfriend looks when he’s mad, pushing your thighs together — and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You’re fucking turned on by this, aren’t now?” He’s doing that laugh, the one that’s more out of anger than genuine amusement. It doesn’t help you at all, because damn does he sound hot doing it. “You know what? Come on. You too, Jisung.”

Haechan hooks his arms around you and forces you down the hallway before you can even think to move. You know being thrown around by him shouldn’t turn you on and especially not right now, but you can’t help the way that the aggression combined with his angry attitude has you sopping.

Jisung trails behind, feeling as though he doesn’t have much of a choice. You can tell he’s scared shitless, but you on the other hand are somewhat thrilled to see where this’ll go.

You’re practically thrown onto the bed when Haechan takes you into his room, slamming your back onto his sheets without much care. “I’m going to play with you until I’m satisfied,” he announces, not leaving room for options. “And Jisung, you’re going to watch.”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Watch?”

“Yes, watch. You’ve been fucking my girlfriend right under my nose and think that I’m going to let you off easy?”

Neither of you are going to be let off easy, and that’s the scariest part about it.

He doesn’t say anything from then on, only dragging down your articles of clothing or pulling them above your head at paces nothing less than excruciatingly slow. You begin to feel bare and uncovered underneath him, as though nothing could escape him and as though he can see through you more than you could him in the moment. The inscrutable expression on his face as he strips you naked makes you feel like everything you’ve hid is being stolen from confines, open and on display for him. He can see so much of you, but you can’t tell what’s running through his mind as he touches you almost everywhere but where you need him to.

The little relief he’s permitting you as he hauls his fingers around your skin isn’t enough and you at least know that he’s aware of that, deliberately fighting shy of the space between your thighs. You try and squirm, to show any possible hint of you needing more, but Haechan moves his hands to hold your hips steady. “You’re only making this worse for yourself if you keep moving,” his grip tightens until you give up and lie still, realizing that cumming is probably going to cost you more than you initially thought. “I’m in control here. Not you, not him, me. If you want to cum, then you’ll have to play by my fucking rules.”

You lift your gaze to Jisung, finding him staring back at you. The look on his face appears as unsure as it had the second you were caught, but the bulge in his pants betrays any lack of will present in him. If he could, you know that he’d be running his hands all over your body too, and you realize that that’s probably what’s going on inside his head.

You look away. “I’m sorry.”

The way Haechan snorts, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. He knows you’re only sorry because you want relief, and know the more you disobey him, the longer you’ll wait for it. “If you’re truly sorry, you’ll take what I give you like a good girl.”

The thud of your heart against your chest is loud, yelling at you when you feel him finally spread your thighs apart. You wonder if he can hear it too, the hunger and desperation in you calling for him in one steady rhythm. He moves like he’s willing to satisfy your greed, although not all at once, taking his precious time with you as he presses delicate kisses and rubs patterns onto the insides of your thighs. You whimper, but the dark, shadow-y look in his eyes as he gazes up at you shuts you up instantly.

“C-can I touch her?” Jisung asks tentatively.

Haechan doesn’t look back, doesn’t even think about it as he replies, “Not yet. You can touch her when I say you can.”

He’s dipping his head onto you again, not to say he ever really left. You moan a little when he licks at you, fighting the urge to buck your hips onto his mouth in reluctance to anger him further. You don’t know what the consequence would be if you did, and you’re fine without knowing. Still, the pace he sets is agonizing and it takes everything in you not to let temptation prevail. You know you did a bad thing. You also know that bad behavior doesn’t get rewarded, but you can’t help but feel a little selfish, wishing he’d give you a little more instead of teasing you beyond imaginable.

Eventually, the little licks do become more, gradually developing from gentleness to Haechan lapping at you with the eager movements of his tongue weakening you as he becomes unable to resist his own temptations. As you grip his hair forget there’s even anyone else in the room with you, weak in a way you had never allowed yourself to become for Jisung. This type of fragility is what he hears at night and what he saw in the video, but what he’d never be capable of having. You’ve been desperate for him too, but Haechan’s broken you beyond desperation. He’s teased you until your cunt physically aches, then filled you with pleasure that gives you whiplash.

“Hyuck, Hyuck,” your knees feel weak, and you can’t even think. All you know is that this feels good, and you fucking need him.

“You wanna cum, angel?” He coos, only moving away from your cunt for a second before he’s latching onto you again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant. “Please.”

Your stomach feels like a rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching and you know that Haechan can too, with your body quivering in his grasp, your sounds increasing in frequency and volume, and your clutch on his locks tightening without you being capable of noticing.

In short, your stomach feels like an insane rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching you quickly and you’re sure that Haechan can too, especially from how your body quivers in his grasp, your sounds increase in frequency and volume, and your grip on his locks tightens without you being capable of noticing. It’s almost as though your body is physically here, yet you’ve elevated off in heaven somewhere. But when he pulls away just before that invisible string in you can snap, you feel shoved back into torturous reality.

“No!” You whine.

“You really think you deserve to cum?” The way he looks at you feels so degrading that you can’t resist shaking a little underneath him as he hovers above you, “I’m going to edge you until you understand that this pussy is mine.”

“No, no, no,” you whimper, “please let me cum, Hyuck. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Haechan scoffs. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that? You weren’t worried about being good when you decided to be a slut for Jisung.”

The mention of Jisung gives you the rough reminder than he’s still in the room again, watching closely how pathetically you unravel before your boyfriend. You can tell that he wants to do something but he’s mentally debating it, and he shies up every time you shift your gaze over to him again. He’s more nervous now that he’s been directly mentioned, unsure of what to do and how to react in a scenario like this. He knows he shouldn’t touch you, but should he be ashamed if he were to touch himself? Should he feel guilty about the things he’s done with you when your boyfriend’s back was turned?

“I, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what, babe?” He crooks his head. “Go ahead and tell me another lie.”

It’s almost embarrassing how easily Haechan makes you feel like such a pathetic mess. You can’t even find the words to say in response to that, and he’s simply amused by how quiet you’ve gone. It was never like you expected him to placate you after finding out about everything you did behind his back, but you didn’t think it would hurt to try, hoping he would show you some type of mercy and be even a little lenient. You know that he didn’t deserve for this to happen to him and that you don’t deserve even a sliver of his mercy, but you had hoped that maybe he would still find it in him to grace you with it anyway.

When Haechan moved his lips from between your thighs, soaring up your body and re-starting his teasing journey at your neck as he peppers the skin with gentle kisses that you know only temporarily betray his attitude, you had then accepted that nothing comes without a cost, and that this was your price to pay. He played fake soft with you, treating you like you had a fragile label warning printed across you in spite of being completely aware that you wanted more, that you needed more and would never be satisfied with what little he was giving you. That was what made it more fun for him though, because it seemed like no matter what amount of pleasure he was generous enough to give you, you would take it for granted and not value it enough.

Then Haechan’s movements get fiercer as he continues to follow this torturous pattern of gradually fulfilling your desires, kissing developing into biting and sucking at your flesh in ways that make you gasp out in response, and ways he knows will leave marks on your skin. He was satisfied that Jisung had at least successfully avoided that and you couldn’t imagine what side of him would unravel if he hadn’t. Haechan liked to joke and play around at times but he was never truly all that possessive over you unless you had truly set him off, and this was one of those instances where you had.

There isn’t a single sign of reluctance in him as he marks you up more and more little by little, sucking red spots into your neck and falling steadily down the rest of your body to cover every area he could. He knows that they aren’t tattoo permanent, but not extremely temporary either. In the moment you would feel him decorating your skin, but afterwards you would look in the mirror and see how he had left you covered practically head to toe in marks. If you were bold enough to try and sneak around with Jisung again, he would be reminded that you didn’t belong to him and you never would. You’re Haechan’s, and Haechan’s only.

Jisung speaks up again, asking in the faintest, meek voice, “Can I touch myself?”

For once it manages to make Haechan pause, and ultimately causes you to whimper by instinct when the rough contact between your skin and his mouth is broken, but the moment is thankfully brief when Haechan shrugs, “Go ahead.” Then he’s continuing again.

At the same time, Jisung manifests every sign of being eager to get his clothes off, desperate to feel some sort of relief that he’s been refused recently. He had planned on breaking that spell, on having you to himself today even if it was only for a while, and honestly couldn’t and wouldn’t have predicted that this would happen. After going without being inside of you for the past couple of days on top of you ghosting him last night (whether you intended to or not), he felt starved of everything he was craving.

Touching himself felt no where as good as being inside you would, and especially after he finally had received the experience to prove it, although it’s better than nothing and he’s accepted that Haechan is likely not going to let him anywhere near your body — not until he’s done playing whatever game he calls this. You would nickname it torment, and so would Jisung.

You’re back to square one soon enough, with Haechan reappearing between your thighs once more, still acting slowly and rather teasingly although not nearly as much as he had the first time around. As you feel his mouth on you, your sounds mix with the ones that Jisung audibly makes as he strokes himself to the sight, practically bouncing off of the walls. “Be quiet,” Haechan whispers momentarily, and you immediately frown. You instantly feel the urge to question why he suddenly has a problem with you making noise, but you figured it would be best to fight against them. If you thought about it, lacking self-control is what landed you in this particular situation in the first place.

In your attempt to hold back any sound, you bite the walls of your cheek. He has you right there on the edge again, at the point where it’s hardest for you to keep quiet, but you manage to comply with his rules. It’s relaxing your body that feels impossible, especially when he’s pushing the right buttons. Your thighs begin to tremble, and your senses feel so heightened that you could almost cry. You’re right there, so close, your orgasm practically in arm’s reach—yet then he torturously snatches it all away once more. This time you do cry, however for an entirely different reason than you anticipated. “Haechan, please let me cum. I’m sorry, I’ll do anything!” you’re past the point of caring that Jisung’s seeing you like this, all capability of feeling embarrassment and shame leaving you as you’re filled to the brim with nothing but denial and want. “Please.”

Swiping his thumb over your eyes, he coos mockingly, “Aw, did you wanna cum? Do you think you deserve it?”

You’re nodding your head impatiently, unable to stop the trail of tears that stream down your cheeks. “I’ve been—I’ve been good, Hyuck. I did everything you told me to do.”

Haechan seemed to debate the decision of his next move in his head, going back and forth with himself a couple of times before ultimately deciding he would he allow you a deal. “Here’s the deal: I’m gonna fuck you, and you better not make a sound unless I tell you to. If you don’t cum by the time that I do, then you won’t cum at all. Got it?”

Again, you nodded fervently, sealing your lips shut in fear of messing up your opportunity to cum before you ever really got the chance if you opened your mouth. Haechan stripped himself of his clothes in what felt like seconds, throwing them onto the floor to be concerned over another time. He had truthfully wanted to be inside you when he saw that video you’d accidentally sent him, just to prove to you that no one could ever make you feel as good as he could. He had a particular motive in not letting Jisung touch you, too. He was punishing not only you, but the both of you, and he wanted Jisung to see that no matter how much you crawled to him, you were Haechan’s. You belonged to him entirely, and he could please you like no other. It wouldn’t matter how good he was because Haechan was better, and with every second that passed, he proved it time and time again, relentlessly.

So when Haechan thrusts inside you, there’s no doubt that Jisung feels jealous. It’s his own fault for messing with someone who didn’t belong to him, but he’s attached to you in a way that he doesn’t think he could be with anybody else.

“Shit, babe,” he slides in easily, both from the fact that you’ve been dangerously aroused since the moment he grabbed you and the fact that he’s edged you twice already.

You had almost whimpered at the feeling of him gliding inside your cunt, but then you remembered the terms of your agreement and settled with digging your teeth into your bottom lip with a force slightly dangerous. In this moment, you’re content. All you had wanted was to be filled and Haechan does so greatly, shoving his girth inside you as though he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. With how much he had been edging you, you never really realized how much his own need was growing.

“Fucking slut,” Haechan growls, watching how eagerly you take him. You look like such a mess, cheeks stained with tears, skin covered in marks, and your body practically shaking in response to the pleasure. “Needed dick so bad you fuck my friend behind my back?”

When you don’t reply, his palm lands on your ass, causing you to barely hold in a moan. “That was a question, baby.”

“I—‘m sorry,” is all you can bring yourself to say. There’s no use in coming up with a better response, you already know there’s no words you could use that would placate him.

“I didn’t fucking ask if you were sorry though, did I?” he smacks your ass once more, and this time you’re unable to contain the loud yelp that tears from between your lips. “And I told you to shut the hell up. But I know you can’t think with nothing but that greedy fucking pussy.”

You’re then distracted by the ever so inviting sounds of Jisung’s moans the second they ripple through the air, instantly shifting your gaze towards him and observing how hot he looks as he gets himself off to this, to you, his hair in front of his face and his lips parted agape. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, eyes squeezing shut in a deepening moan as he strokes himself with his palm. If you were in your full mind, you would have realized that you’re only further proving your boyfriend’s point, however you just can’t help but still want the both of them—together.

Haechan slows his movements until he stops entirely, then grips your chin, slightly rough yet you display no sign of disliking it. In fact, it’s probably worse how much you enjoy him manhandling you. You’re so close to whimpering when he goes still, hardly remaining silent and although he doesn’t mention it, you know he could tell. “Look at me, not him. You’re fucking mine,” he enunciates the single syllable with one sharp, deep thrust. “This pussy is mine,” he repeats the motion again, rocking your body forward and nearly forcing a moan from you, “now tell me who you belong to.”

Weakly, you answer, “Y-you.”

It’s clear that Haechan isn’t moving again until you’ve complied, and he seems unsatisfied by your response. Your thoughts are confirmed when he instead smacks your thigh, resulting in tears to prick your eyes once more.

“Not satisfied. Try again.”

“You, Hyuck, f-fuck,” you sound weakened and broken, attempting to speak through your sobbing, “I’m yours, I belong to you! Only you. N-no one—no one but you.”

That seems to do the trick, because he finally re-starts thrusting into you habitually, temporarily making your vision go black when he strikes a particular, sweet spot. There’s no one word that perfectly captures how he feels inside you, and you wouldn’t even bother to try and think of one. Hell, you’re beyond the point of thinking. You would’ve been embarrassed by how dumb you’d gone at this point, unable to comprehend how loud you’re being and that you’re essentially breaking one of the terms of your deal. Haechan’s in too deep to stop now though, wanting to feel how you perfectly take every inch of him, and instead comes up with a better solution.

“Jisung, come—s-shit—come fuck her throat,” Haechan barely manages to grunt out, his own eyes closing firmly and his moans getting louder with every passing moment. “I know that’ll make a slut like her shut the fuck up.”

At first the command takes him by surprise, though then Jisung’s rushing over to fuck your throat without needing to be told twice. He’s a little unsure if you had even registered the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, however he can’t find it within him to stop once he slips into your mouth. He can’t stop the moan that tumbles from between his own when he feels your mouth around him, neither, the warm sensation already feeling levels bettet than his palms. It’s then that he realizes you’d never sucked him off before, that it had always been him giving head and you on the receiving end—not that he minded. He loves giving you head and watching the way your body reacts to his touch. However he discovers that he also likes the way your mouth feels.

He’s dreamed about this, and the reality is so much better than the expectations. You’d seemed a little lost when you noticed him in your mouth, but you sucked anyways, assuming Haechan had finally allowed interaction between the both of you and being glad about it. You also feel bad that he had been abandoned on his own for so long, unable to do much but watch, and wanted to please him to the best of your ability. The look on his face is hard to concentrate on when your boyfriend’s simultaneously fucking into you relentlessly, but the glimpses of it that you do manage to catch tell you that you’re most likely doing a great and successful job.

“S-shit, you feel so good,” Jisung moans, practically feeling his whole body tingle.

You’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling of having two dicks in you, although it’s clear as day that he isn’t going to last extremely long, especially considering that he had already been getting himself off beforehand. You listen to his deep groans while simultaneously watching the way Haechan’s face twists and scrunches with pleasure, the three of your sounds—although yours muffled—mixing together as one.

“G-gonna cu—f-fuck,” Jisung grunts, unable to finish his sentence before he’s filling your mouth with his cum, his eyes firmly closed as he murmurs a set of curses. He pulls away when he’s finished, watching with awe as you swallow as much as you can, and admiring the way you look as whatever you couldn’t take in your mouth dripped down and decorated your chin.

There’s something about the way you look at him that honestly makes him feel like he could cum again right then, right there.

Deciding slapping your ass isn’t effective enough, Haechan slaps your cunt to grab your attention, not caring that you whimper from the unexpected impact and almost tempted to do it again because of how sweet you sound. “Focus on me,” he commands, and you comply. “You close?”

Forgetting about what had happened earlier, you simply nod in response, much to his dissatisfaction.

Haechan slapped your cunt again, “It’s like you never learn, baby. Use your words.”

“Y-yeah, I’m close,” it’s written all over your face, you know he’s only asking for a chance to torment you some more, “can I—can I cum?”

“S-shit, cum for me babe. You better do it before I do,” he says, reminding you that you wouldn’t be allowed to cum if you didn’t by the time that he had. He’s just as close as you were, moaning needily, his grip on your waist tightening almost bruisingly. His thrusts get deeper yet they aren’t as precise as they were initially.

Whatever happens in the next couple of moments you don’t process, save for your orgasm and the feeling of Haechan’s cum filling you to the brim, warm and thick. He stops moving eventually, slowing the way he rocks into your hips until he pauses completely. When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum drips from your cunt, unable to hide the proud smile developing on his face. He knows you like it too, recalling vividly all the times you’ve begged for him to cum in you.

He scoops you into his arms afterwards, kissing your neck gently again, making you giggle when he avoids your mouth for obvious reasons. “You okay? Too rough?”

You shake your head. “I’m good.” He’s never too rough on you.

Jisung clears his throat from beside you, making you both shift your gaze to him. “So, um,” he begins awkwardly, “what now?”

The smirk on Haechan’s face is sinister, and you know whatever he’s thinking in his head can mean zero good, but a part of you is excited for it anyways. “We’re not done here,” he says plainly, then adds, “since you wanted it so bad, do you think you can take two dicks for us, y/n?”

You have no idea, but you guess you were about to find out.

When you slowly nodded in confirmation, you swear you saw Jisung eyes twinkle a little in excitement. “Can we record it?”

Haechan shrugs. “Is that okay with you, babe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply, thrilled by the idea. If this was the last time you’d ever be with the two of them at once, then you wanted to be able to remember it vividly, and there was no better way than recording.

Your boyfriend grabs his phone from the nightstand, grinning a little devilishly. “Are you ready?” When you nodded, he pressed record and immediately brought the camera to your face, still sticky with cum.

“Smile for the camera, baby.”

#nct dream smut #jisung smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #park jisung smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct

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baby-yongbok · 7 days

Text

Look At Me

Han Jisung x Afab!Reader

☼ Genre: Fluff ☼Summary: Jisung is just your friend... right? ☼ Word Count: 1.2k ☼ a/n: This is set up in a retail kind of setting. I pictured Target cause I used to work there 😭. I didn't edit this cause I'm running around like a headless chicken to prepare for vacation. I hope that you enjoy!

✧ Masterlist ✧

Jisung is just your friend. Your favorite co-worker and the only person on your 7pm to 11pm shift that can make you smile.

Jisung is just your friend that you’re always teamed up with to collect the carts from the parking lot before the store closes. He makes a game out of it, chasing you with carts and racing you to the front of the store. Sometimes when the parking lot is nearly empty he picks you up and puts you in the last cart that he collects. His arms wrap around you with a soft but firm grip as his chest vibrates with laughter, you love it… platonically of course.

Jisung is just your friend that brings you coffee before every shift. Your heart broke when you started to cut down caffeine. You thought that that would end his sweet gestures but he surprised you by bringing you an herbal tea instead, his favorite flavor that he hoped you’d like. Since he likes it you love it.

Jisung is just your friend that comes up behind you when he sees you struggling to get something off of a taller shelf. His hands grounds your hips and his back is against yours as he tells you to let him give it a shot. The small grunts that thrums through him as he stretches himself behind you makes you hot. He chuckles when he realizes that he’s too short to reach it too. “I’ll go get a ladder since we’re both tiny.”

Jisung is just your friend who gives you one of his wireless earbuds when you’re working in the same department. He shared a playlist with you on Spotify so that you can both DJ while you’re organizing the aisles. You can hear him humming along from the opposite side of the aisle, he sounds better than the song in your ear. So much better that you turn the music down until he’s almost all that you can hear.

Jisung is just your friend who holds your hand to guide you through the crowd of the Saturday afternoon rush. He twists and turns and dodges children running around the busy store with you close behind him. He stops to answer questions, turning to you with an adorable furrow when he doesn’t remember where something is. He holds your hand all the way until you get to the break room. “I can finally breathe.” He jokes as he lets your fingers fall from his. “Let’s hide in here, yeah?” He smiles at you and you at him.

Jisung is just your friend who buys you lunch on random days throughout the week. He’ll disappear from your section minutes before lunch is supposed to start then he’ll pop up in the break room with your favorite stuff. Whatever you’re craving is what he’s buying. “I just want you to eat well. You worked hard today, you deserve it. Now eat before they throw us back out there.”

Jisung is just your friend who's never spoken a word about his girlfriend. Does he have one? Is he single? You don’t really care… cause you’re not into him like that but you’re curious. He’s cute, really cute so he couldn’t possibly be single, right?

Jisung is just your friend. He’s your very single friend. “I haven’t dated in months. After my ex moved I just wanted to focus on myself, ya know?” The two of you are pushing carts filled to the top as he ponders his thoughts. “I could start seeing someone now but I think that I’m just waiting for the right person to look at me.” He looks over at you but you’re staring down at your cart. He smiles to himself.

Jisung is just your friend who drives you home on nights when your shift runs a bit later than it should. “Can’t have a pretty girl like you walking home near midnight.” You always blush when he teases you. He opens the passenger door for you with a cute small smile and you look away from him. Why does he always make you blush so hard?

Jisung is just your friend who turns up his radio and sings along to the song he’s been wanting to show you for days. He says that it’s his new favorite but you notice that it’s not what he typically likes. It’s softer and slower than his usual taste. You ask him what he likes about it as he turns onto your block.

Jisung is just your friend who looks you in the eye once he parks “It reminds me of you.”

Jisung is just your friend. Jisung is just your friend. He didn’t mean it like that .

Jisung did mean it like that. He turns towards you, shifting in the driver's seat and pushing his hair out of his face. He turns the radio down so that you can hear him. He needs you to hear him. “I know that we’ve been friends for awhile and I’ve loved every second of that but I don’t think that I wanna be friends anymore. I wanna know if you’ll allow me to be more than that.”

Jisung is not just your friend, he's the boy that you’ve had a crush on for months and he’s confessing to you right now. He’s making your heart race and your leg shake and your mouth dry. He’s looking over at you with hopeful eyes hoping that you’ll say yes to him or anything at all at this point.

Jisung is your crush that you’d be a fool to turn down. You muster up all of the courage hiding within you to sit up straighter and talk to him. You work yourself up to confess right back. Words start to form and you slowly push them out of your mouth, molding each one as perfectly as you can in the moment. “I would love for you to be more than that.”

Jisung is your crush who smiles to himself when you confess but you miss it, you’re looking away from him like you usually do when he makes you feel like this. When he makes you feel like you’re hugging the sun with a butterfly garden in your stomach. He thinks it’s cute but he wants to see your eyes. He wants you, the right person, to look at him.

Jisung is your crush who leans towards you and gently reaches for your hand that’s resting on your shaking knee. The touch snaps your attention over to him. Your eyes are finally on him. “Could you say that again? But this time, will you look at me? I wanna see your pretty eyes when you confess.” Your gaze wavers and he chuckles, fuck you’re so cute. “I’m over here.” He teases, big boba eyes shining as they try to find yours.

You’re looking at Jisung, sparkling eyes staring into each other when you confess again. His hand holds yours as he pulls you through the emotions you’ve been storing away in your chest. He pulls you right into this moment, grounding you with his gaze and sharing beguiling smiles.

Jisung was just your friend but now he’s so much more.

Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed!

Likes, Reblogs and Comments make my day! Thank you for all support, it keeps me going!

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revehae · 2 months

Text

maneater (r. fantasies)

warning: noncon, semi-public sex, jisung × (f) reader x jaemin

wc. 1.3k

love that i wrote this for @neocentral and she’s also the only reason i was able to recover this 🫶🏽 EVERYONE SAY WE LOVE YOU BELLE

maybe it was jisung's fault, the unfortunate outcome of his generous naivete. foolishly, he had mistaken your kindness for infatuation, your exuberant flashes of teeth when you glanced his way as flirtatious gestures of mutual affection.

jisung wouldn't consider himself a loser. he had a couple of friends. sure, he wasn't the most popular guy around, especially not with girls, but that didn't make him a loser. there was no reason to doubt his chances with one of the campus' most popular students, especially not when you made it so easy to like you.

too easy, jisung would think, clenching his pale, whitened knuckles into stiff fists when he saw other guys talking to you, checking you out from head to toe like you were a fresh slab of meat on display.

deep down inside, even if he refused to admit it to himself, jisung couldn't fault them like he wanted. your wit was admirable and your beauty rivaled that of goddesses. to say nothing of the fact that you were so amicable and approachable, maybe too approachable.

idiotically believing under the trance of your bewitching stare and enthralling smile that you reciprocated jisung's less than platonic feelings for you was his first mistake.

mustering the courage to approach you and ask you out was his second.

at the very least, you were sweet enough to let jisung down gently. even as you ripped his thudding heart out his chest and shredded it with bared teeth, unraveling the thread upon which his very world spun, your lips were fixed in a perfect smile as you apologetically told him that you didn't feel the same way, tenderly brushing your hand against his.

how kind of you to shatter his heart in the most beautiful way possible. you had to have done this a dozen times before, maybe even twice as much, so accustomed to rejecting every male's advance that you knew all the right words to say.

"you'll forget you ever felt this way," you'd told him at one point, most of your other words becoming white noise to his ears as indignation poked holes into his chest and swallowed him whole.

jisung liked to think that he handled the rejection fairly. outwardly, at least, it was true. you wouldn't have guessed from looking at him that the world as he knew it had been upturned and rage was festering in side of him quickly and brutally. he should've listened to his friends when they told him, dude, she's a maneater.

to think only days ago jisung thought so highly of you. now, whenever he saw you, only the most degrading of words came to mind. what a picky, arrogant whore, hissed his thoughts bitterly.

you must've thought you were so much better than him. you must've got a good laugh at his expense, leading him on and making him believe even for a minute that you liked him the way he liked you. or maybe you were just playing hard to get, so entitled that you thought he would chase you.

wrong. jisung was not like those other guys that would come begging at your feet and he refused to lower himself to such degradation, solely so that you could feel better about yourself.

it had to only have been a couple of weeks forward, jisung's anger intensifying by the day, when he heard those godawful noises coming from just around the corner.

he recognized that voice - your voice. jisung would never admit that he was obsessed with you, but there was no doubt in his mind that the high-pitched, agonized cry he heard came from between those glossy lips of yours.

naturally, it was jisung's first instinct to investigate, to wonder what was so terrible that you were shrieking so sharply. he became especially curious when the sound was cut off, suspicious sudden and abrupt, as if it had been muffled.

jisung tiptoed around the corner, quiet as to not disturb the scene unfolding just shy of him. although, given how busy the city was, bustling with everyday life, it would've been more difficult to hear him approaching.

jisung nearly gasped at what he saw, poking his head around the sturdy brick wall and spotting your frame caged behind jaemin's as your back was pinned harshly against a cold wall.

"shh, sweetheart." jaemin crooned, tone of voice cheating his violent hands. "wouldn't want anyone else to see you like this, now would you? imagine how hard it would be for you to have a good future if all anybody saw when they looked at you was this loose little pussy."

jisung wanted to say that that was already what people saw, but he held his tongue. he didn't want to risk making his presence known. one slightly wrong move, one bad step, and both of you would know that he was watching, lurking discreetly in the shadows.

shameless, jisung whispered in his brain, shaking his head as he kept his eyes locked on the incident in front of him. jaemin was forcing himself onto you in broad daylight, for fuck's sake. without a care in the world if anyone saw him.

even as people walked only mere feet away from the sight, burdened with the tasks of their own problems. people that wouldn't randomly think to check around an alleyway to see if there was a girl attempting to fight off her attacker.

your face was familiar, but hardly recognizable all at once. your usual heart-stopping smile was surely upturned into a piteous frown, though it was obscured from jisung's vision as jaemin smothered your screams with his palm. moisture stung your eyes, gathering at your lashes and dripping thickly down your tear-stained cheeks.

even with jaemin's palm pressed flat against your mouth, your whimpers still faintly traveled through the hot, stuffy air. you thrashed in his burly arms, struggling to wrest your way out, but jaemin kept you in place with his spare arm.

part of jisung was bristling with pain and seething with white-hot anger watching another guy touch in ways only he should've been able to, but he couldn't move and he definitely couldn't look away. your stiff nipples were exposed from where jaemin had yanked your shirt down, jisung arriving only moments to see how jaemin sucked at licked at the tender buds.

"i don't take no for an answer," jaemin whispered, stuffing you full of his thick, veiny cock. your pussy was sore from how vigorously he was using you, but nothing would stop jaemin from doing as he pleased if he wanted it enough.

jisung's cock twitched in his light sweatpants. he only wished he could've felt the way your cunt squeezed his cock for dear life, milking it for every last drop of cum like it did jaemin's. if only he would've had the courage to slam you against a wall and take what he wanted, show you who was in charge.

it kept him up sometimes fantasizing about how tight and wet you were as he fisted his own cock to ecstasy. the sight of jaemin abusing your poor little cunt was infuriating, but erotic. not taking out his cock and pumping in his hand took all of jisung's willpower.

watching how wide your gorgeous, fretful eyes were, how your chest heaved quicker and quicker, skipping breaths to get to the one that came after, jisung almost felt bad for you. he liked to think he would've been much more tender, had he gotten the opportunity, setting the mood and taking his time to please you.

until you broke his heart. now, whatever happened to you was out of his hands and jisung couldn't have cared less, ignoring the panic in your body language and obvious pain tensing your features.

jisung had the power to stop his friend if he really wanted, to intervene and save you from your troubles, and he most likely would've, had you not wounded him. but he remembered the gash still fresh on him, your smiles rubbing salt in the cut, and decided this was what you deserved. you'd get over it.

yeah, she'll forget she ever felt this way, jisung mimicked resentfully, those words burned onto his heart harshly. so in the end, against jisung's better judgment, he kept on walking.

#park jisung smut #tw: noncon #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #jisung smut #nct dream x reader #jisung x reader #nct jisung smut #revehae fantasies

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ipegchangbin · 1 month

Note

The idea of the boys wanting to put on a show for y/n. who do you think would be the slutty one "oh cmon don't get shy now ____, it's not like we don't make out all the time anyway. do it for y/n, i think they'd really like it. and i know you would, you literally said so last night." as he looks over to grin at you

And thennnnn! who would be the shy but eager one with his hands already on the other members belt as he leans in

idkidk just an idea

my fingers slipped here’s a quick mtl

🏷️ sub!skz ot8, member x dom!reader x member

MOST SHAMELESS SLUT

minho — it doesn’t matter whoever he’s with, he’s going to be a slut and be cocky about it. at this point, it isn’t even for show, or for the other; he wants to display his sexuality. absolutely loves it when the other gets riled up because it gets him going. definitely holds the other person by the back of his head, proximity so close that they’re nose-to-nose, all the while minho’s hand pumps the other’s cock against his own. the other hand? squeezing the other’s ass.

seungmin — knowing him, he’d take this opportunity to tease his friend. he’d dig into the word “friend” while sliding his hand into the other’s boxers. call them a “bro” while showing you how fast he can make him cum with just his palm. seungmin doesn’t really care about the dynamics or whatnot. he doesn’t even care if he gets noisy or messy with making out, sucking the other off, or even fucking him in front of you; he’ll show you all that you want and more.

hyunjin — doesn’t give a fuck. pulls the other person’s face close to his. locks their head into a tilt towards your direction with a tight grip of his fingers, but it softens the moment you praise him for it. he cares only about making the show as pleasing to you as possible. hyunjin will be rough on the other’s lips if he needs to be, but he’ll slow down once you tell him to. he gets off, you get off, the other gets off; and you all look pretty while doing it.

changbin — a natural slut and not really timid, but he’s mistaken for such from how quiet he is. in reality, he’s just calculated; he’ll put on a show specifically for the both of you. he’d pull in the other in a slow, steady strip, followed by swallowed kisses, all leading up to him going down on the other’s balls. he’s always checking if you’re enjoying it as much as he is. somehow, even under his submission to you, he smirks proudly every time he elicits a reaction out of the other person, showing you his work.

jeongin — he would probably be shy at first but all shame leaves him as soon as the first kiss hits. his hands would roam freely around his friend until they find each other’s cocks. he turns to you the most though, eyes begging for validation with every step of the way. jeongin’s especially slutty when the other’s about to cum, because he’s gonna cum with him — if he hadn’t cum first yet.

felix — it should be nothing to him, theoretically, since he’s so used to kissing you and his other members in both platonic, romantic, and sexual contexts. even so, presented the opportunity, his nervous system seems to restart as soon as he’s in this situation. his cock strains against his pants as he yearns to be touched by the other while you’re staring at him. shame only dissipates when he gets teary-eyed, begging to be touched.

han jisung — gets embarrassed that you’re even telling him to kiss the other person in front of you. it doesn’t matter how much you’ve all been fucking each other, he still gets beet red at the prospect of it. the idea spurs him on, don’t get it twisted, but he gets so dizzy even if his own arms are at work stripping the other off their clothes. gets massively horny after just one slip of the other’s tongue.

bang chan — he’s so shy about it. he’s shy even being in front of you, what more with someone else and you? he can’t handle it, but somehow, his hands express how needy he is inside. chan has little to no control over how his throat releases the whimpers he tries to bite back, or how his fingers search for the nipples of his other, or how his knees fold until he’s eye-level with the other’s cock. even then, he shies away, burying his face into the other’s skin.

LEAST SLUTTIEST

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!stray kids #sub!bang chan #sub!chan #sub!lee know #sub!minho #sub!changbin #sub!hyunjin #sub!han jisung #sub!jisung #sub!felix #sub!seungmin #sub!jeongin #💌 ipeginbox #<3 a lovely anon #💬 z is writimg

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anothershorthuman · 9 months

Text

Stay Alive Pt. 7

pairings: nct dream x platonic!reader, afab!reader (you wear a skirt, but they/them pronouns are used), ??? x reader x ???

genre: zombie apocalypse au, high school au, angst, fluff, humor, not really horror but it's zombies ya'know

word count: 6.25k

series warnings: blood, injuries & fighting, suicide, character death, swearing, again... zombies.

chpt warnings: sexual assault, swearing, grief, dead parents, mentions sex and periods, guns and violence

summary: nobody was ready for a zombie apocalypse. you were definitely not ready for a zombie apocalypse. while contemplating just giving up and accepting your fate, you meet a group of boys. life may seem pointless now, but at the very least, you now have a reason to stay alive.

previous: masterlist: next

…

Your shift with Jaemin ends when the sun rises; he wakes you up first before waking the other boys by banging two pots together. They complain at the idea of getting up while the sun is still rising but comply once Jaemin promises them breakfast before they go back to walking.

The boy's eagerness to eat is overwhelming for you, so you stand near the doorway to the kitchen, watching all of them stuff their faces with bacon and eggs as if they hadn’t eaten for days. You're watching Chenle and Jisung fight over a piece of bacon, eyebrows scrunching in disgust, when you feel someone nudging you with their elbow. You nod at Jeno in acknowledgement but say nothing as he hands you a plate with breakfast.

“You should eat.” You nod in what Jeno assumes is appreciation, before he walks away. He watches from afar as you ignore the utensils he left you and eat the scrambled eggs with your hand. His eyes smile when he sees you immediately go for a second bite.

…

The seven of you walked in silence for maybe 20 minutes before Haechan had started complaining about how bored he was. You’re a little surprised when he decides to focus on annoying you rather than any of the boys. He had been trying to hold your hand for a while now, but you were slapping it away. Eventually he gives up on holding your hand but hooks his arm with yours, and is pleased when you don’t shove him away. Despite your weariness, the physical affection isn’t awful, and it reminds you of Jungwoo a little.

“There’s the corner store!” Haechan exclaims before running over, pulling you with him.

Haechans fast pace doesn’t give you enough time to look at your surroundings and Haechan is too excited with the idea of seeing his family that he doesn’t notice the worried glances between Mark, Jeno, and Renjun.

You want to scold Haechan after you stumble into the store but become speechless after finally getting a good look at the inside of the store. The products of the store were completely scattered, on the floor and on the counter. The glass from the door and the freezers was shattered, with drinks and food scattered on the floor. The cash register was broken, as was the stool that was typically behind it.

Haechan disconnects from you and begins to wander the store. He calls out for his mom, and then his sister, not being able to control the growing waver in his voice.

You too are wandering the store when the rest of the boys finally enter the store. Walking past an aisle, you freeze. There’s a puddle of blood coming from behind a door, presumably a break room for the workers. You peak your head over an aisle, checking where the boys are. Haechan is the closest, but Renjun and Chenle are quickly approaching him and you hope they’ll keep him away from the blood, at least until you can figure out who it belongs to. You glance at Jeno and Mark who are standing by the cash register and consider grabbing one of them just in case things go wrong.

You step around the blood and reach with a shaking hand to grip the door handle. The sounds of the boys around you fade for a second as you gather your courage to open the door. You whip it open with a surprising amount of strength and scramble to catch it before it hits the wall, not wanting to alert the others of what you're doing. Once you are confident the door won't give you away, you take a look around the room. If not for the stream of blood leading to the back of the room, behind another tall shelf, you might have been pleased to see there was more supplies that would be useful for your group, like toilet paper and hand sanitizer. But alas, the sight of that much blood would spook anyone.

Peering around the corner of the bookshelf, you take a few deep breaths only to gag when you realize that you're standing in a pungent stench. There's a body behind the bookshelf. You cover your nose and mouth with your hand. The body is face down, but it’s a middle aged woman with long black hair. You had been preparing to see a dead body, it was inevitable given the circumstances, but the possibility of your first being someone Haechan might know, might be his mother, makes this moment a lot harder to cope with than you anticipated. You look around the room, looking for something to cover the body with. You use an abandoned sweater before quickly leaving the room.

All of the boys are gathered around the door, seemingly processing the same shock you felt when you first spotted the blood. You can’t help but to look into Haechans watery eyes, even though he instantly looks away from you.

“There’s a body in there,” you say, “a woman, not sure what happened, not sure I want to find out.”

Nobody replies for a second, knowing that there is a possibility of it being Haechans mother.

“I can check.” Renjun offers.

Haechan shakes his head strongly, “If it’s my mom then it should be me.”

“They’re faced down, so we would need to flip them over first.”

Jeno steps forward with Haechan and reassures him that he’ll help him with that much. You watch as the two go inside and stand quietly with the rest. The six of you hear Jeno count them down to presumably flip the body over. And then you hear Haechan start to wail.

Deciding to give him some space, you start to walk toward the entrance of the store, the rest of the boys following. It’s only until you all settle outside that you realize some of the other boys are crying too. Renjun has tears quietly streaming down his face and Jisung is straight up crying.

Jaemin tells you about how all of the sophomores would meet up at Haechans house to play games together. They would often stay for dinner, his mom made the best kimchi. She was kind, going to Jeno’s games when his parents were busy or gifting Renjun paint or packing an extra lunch for Haechan to give to Jaemin when she found out he would never eat at school.

And then he tells you that Jisung was just an empath, he had never met her.

While you had never met the woman or felt particularly close to your own mother, feeling helpless was not a foreign concept for you and you can’t help but pity Haechan. You sit outside for maybe 20 minutes before Mark is standing up and dusting off his pants. He says you should leave soon and that he was going to go get Haechan and Jeno. The three of them walk out and you all start to walk away without a destination in mind.

…

You didn’t mind walking aimlessly, but due to the literal zombie apocalypse, you think that it probably wouldn’t be wise to wander around for the entire day. Your entire group is clearly not in the right headspace. Anytime you hear a noise that could be other people or a zombie, they get spooked and switch directions. You had yet to run into other people.

You had been walking for an hour before Jisung started whining about wanting to take a break. Jaemin suggests breaking into another house but Renjun disagrees, saying that it feels oddly intimate being in a stranger's house without them in it. Mark offers his house, but quickly backtracks when he realizes that he has no idea how to get there, they are lost.

This of course causes all of them to focus on what's happening, trying to identify where they are. Chenle is trying to retrace their steps when you speak up, “I, uh, I think I know where we are.”

Their necks snap in your direction and they swarm you. And suddenly they’re bombarding you with questions. Their faces feel too close, you can feel their hot breaths on your skin and the way it makes the hair on your arms stand.

“I live near here!” You blurt out. Your sudden outburst has them backing away. “It’s a really small place, but we’re tired and there’s food there. We can spend the night there and figure out our next move.”

…

Jisung still has no idea where they are. He lived on the other side of school and even looking at the map on his phone, he didn’t really know how to get anywhere. So, he really was relieved when you said you recognized the area.

Part of him is confused, this is a pretty run down part of town, even before the apocalypse, he can recall his parents telling him to avoid this area. You lead them down a steep street and he finally seems to notice how eerily quiet everything is. All he can hear is the huffing coming from the boys breathing and their shoes scraping against the concrete.

They enter an apartment complex with flickering lights at its entrance. Jisung finds himself instinctively shuffling closer to Chenle as they go up three flights of stairs. The hallway smells of smoke and the yellowish tint of the walls prove that smokers lived here. He wonders if you smoke.

You open the door and he peeks over everybody's heads into the apartment. It's a studio, with a lofted bed and the eight of you struggle to fit into the… living room? Kitchen? Whatever you called it. Mark, Renjun, and Chenle squish themselves onto the couch and Jisung finds himself standing awkwardly next to them.

You scratch your neck uncomfortably, “It’s usually just me in here, so I forget how small it is. Sorry. We can look for someplace else if you guys want.”

Jisung watches Haechan walk in, make a beeline for the ladder that leads him up to your bed before promptly face planting on it.

Jaemin is the only one still standing near the entrance with you and Jisung can't help but be annoyed by him, leaning over you, a hand placed on the wall next to you.

“I like your place.” He says, “small, but cozy.”

You snort in amusement. When did you two get so friendly? Jisung thinks to himself.

…

“So, this is where you live?” Jungwoo looks around the small studio apartment. You can’t help but feel a bit self conscious and you cave into yourself, your arms crossing and shoulders hunched a little.

“Uh, no! Not like that,” Jungwoo tries to reassure you, “I guess part of me didn’t believe it when you said you lived by yourself.” He plops down on the small couch (which takes up a majority of the apartment.

“It’s okay.” You say. “...you're the first person I've brought over.”

“Really?”

You nod.

Jungwoo opens his backpack and starts going through his stuff. He pulls out a white polaroid camera and pulls you over by your sleeve so that you’re sitting next to each other. “We should take a photo then! This is a pretty big deal.”

He snaps the picture of you two and shakes it so that it’ll develop faster. He grins as he looks at the picture before handing it to you.

“Thanks for letting me come over.”

“It’s not like the place is impressive or anything”

“It doesn’t have to be impressive. I’m just glad you were comfortable enough hanging out outside of school.”

“...Yea, I am kind of sick of you.” You snicker as he lets out a gasp and hits you. “That was rude!” You say.

“That’s it, I'm leaving.”

…

You peer up into Jaemin’s eyes as he continues to loom over you. He’s still talking, but you stopped paying attention to him a while ago. You’re not sure if he hasn’t realized that you're not listening or if he just doesn’t care. Your eyes flicker around the room, up to Haechan, who is now sleeping in your bed.

Jaemin follows your gaze, “Don’t worry about him.”

Your eyes snap back to him, a bit dumbfounded, “What?”

“I mean don’t worry about him too much.”

“How can I not?” you ask him pointedly, “His mom died, Jaemin”

He moves so that he’s leaning against the wall next to you rather than standing in front of you.

“I think we all know that anyone could die in a zombie apocalypse.”

You sigh, “I know, but this makes it feel more real, ya’know? How am I suddenly the sympathetic one? Aren’t you guys friends?”

Jaemin picks at the skin around his fingernails. His movement makes you uncomfortable but you can’t bring yourself to stop him. “Of course I am. But I know Haechan, he doesn’t like being coddled, even though he could probably use the support right now. He doesn’t want it from me.”

“And I thought you were the bad boy.”

He shakes his head, “I might have the image, but he definitely has the emotional constipation that goes with it.”

You're silent for a little while before he leaves to join the guys. You sit on the floor, a little further from the group but close enough to listen to their antics. You catch Jisung and Renjun glancing at you every once in a while, but they don't ask you to come closer and you don’t bother to move.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, being in your apartment makes it easy to ignore how the world is ending outside. Except for Haechan, of course, who has not left the comfort of your bed.

You make them some ramen and you all watch cartoon reruns on your shitty tv, changing the channel everytime some sort of news starts. You watch them grow tired and fall asleep, one by one. Eventually, you get up from your spot on the floor and climb the ladder up to your bed.

Haechan shifts when you settle next to him. The bed is big enough that you aren’t pressed against each other, but if one of you were to roll over you’d end up laying on top of the other person.

Jaemin might know Haechan well enough to leave him alone for a while, but you don’t. Hesitantly, you lift your hand and place it on his arm. You can feel him tense under your touch and you retract your hand, worried that Jaemin had been right and you shouldn’t have overstepped. You even think about leaving the bed so that he can continue to have a little bit of privacy, but he’s turning around to face you. His movement is slow and calculated, you can tell that he’s trying to not crush you. When he stops moving, the first thing you notice are his eyes. You might not have known this boy for very long, but the warmth and liveliness that was in them when you first met was gone, now bloodshot and sunken from all the crying he’s been doing. The darkness of the room makes the contours of his face look darker and he resembles the characters of a Tim Burton movie.

Haechan is avoiding your gaze and you wait for him to say something. When he does, it’s in a whisper, “Will you hold me?”

You nod at him and slip an arm under his head. He shoved his face into the crook between your neck and shoulder. You don’t say anything when you feel his tears hit your skin and you don't say anything when he tightens his grip around you.

Haechans breath eventually evens out and you realize that he’s asleep. You aren't used to having anyone pressed up against you, and despite the way you squirm, it isn’t uncomfortable. You’re about to fall asleep when you hear someone climbing up the ladder. You quickly close your eyes and pretend to be asleep until the person goes down the steps. You peek an eye open just to see the top of Jeno’s head disappear. Was he just checking in on Haechan? You think about possibly asking him, but you’re much too tired to even try to get up.

It’s the best night's sleep you’ve gotten in months.

…

Everyone is surprised when Haechan is the one suggesting you all get moving the next morning, but no one fights him on this. Instead, they pack their bags before deciding to walk further north. Renjun had woken up early and watched the news without any sound while everyone else was still asleep. Apparently, there were some camps set up across the country in order to help people, maybe some of their families ended up there.

Nobody says anything when Haechan holds your hand when you start walking. You can tell that they’re surprised that you’re letting him, except for Jaemin, who sends you an annoying wink when your gaze meets.

Despite being the one to suggest leaving your apartment, Haechan is barely trailing after you. At times, it feels like you’re dragging him behind you. Yet, he never complains about the continuous walking or comment on the looks he receives when he wipes tears from his eyes.

You spend several hours walking. At one point, you came across a couple of bikes and rode them (two to a bike) until one of the tires popped, leaving Chenle with a nasty scrape on his knee after Jisung landed on top of him. You ditched the bikes after that. All the phones you guys had ran out of battery and you spent the night in an abandoned building.

Without your phones, the eight of you were truly lost. Time and distance feel insignificant even when zombies appear. Your group had developed a routine, with Jeno, Mark, and Jaemin as the first lines of defense, all swinging bats at any zombie that got too close. With no other weapons, you are the second line of defense, clutching the knife that Mark returned to you. Looking back, you were stupid not to take more knives from your apartment, but everyone was too frazzled to think about potentially fighting zombies.

Rarely do zombies get past the boys with bats, but there have been a few close calls when Haechan just doesn’t react to a zombie lunging at him and you end up shoving him out of the way. Jisungs instinct is always to run away and sometimes that means leaving the rest of you behind. Chenle will chase after him if he sees him run away, but once, when his knee injury was recent, his knee gave out trying to run and Jisung had gotten lost. Yelling would only attract more zombies, so you ended up going in circles in the area for maybe an hour, looking for him. You find him hiding behind a car, having a panic attack.

After four days of walking, Mark and Renjun are talking about finding a place to shower in. You’re currently taking a break from walking, all of the boys are munching on protein bars and you’re taking a nap, head on Haechans lap.

He isn’t talking much, but the two of you have become a clingy duo. Mark thought that you were just tolerating Haechan because you felt bad for him, but now, it seems like you reach out for him just as much as he reaches for you. Some of the other boys have taken it as a sign to be more comfortable with you too. Jaemin will often have an arm over your shoulder if you’re sitting next to each other. There's a look of longing in your eyes when you look at him that Mark just can’t figure out where it’s coming from, but he’s not that surprised that you like Jaemin, if anyone at all. Chenle and you have a habit of teasing Jisung, often about girls and his lack of knowledge about them.

The only one of the boys that still keeps his distance from you is Jeno. Mark hasn’t seen Jeno be so cold to anyone before. Sure, your first time meeting the boys was pretty rocky, but Jeno is supposed to be the nice one of the second years. Regardless, he keeps his distance and deals with you since the rest of the boys seem to like you.

When he asks Jeno why he hasn’t grown to like you, Jeno only shrugs and says, “they’re your guys’ friend, not mine.”

“They let us into their apartment and they take care of Haechan.”

“I don’t have to like everyone, Mark.”

Except Mark knows that that's bullshit and Jeno does like everyone… or at least everyone that the boys are friends with. There has to be something else, and Mark swears he’ll get to the bottom of it.

…

A day later, the eight of you stood on the side of a street. This street was elevated and overlooked a good part of the city. If you looked closely enough, you could see a zombie or two wandering. It turns out that zombies are mostly solitary beings, you don’t usually run into more than three of them at a time unless a loud noise attracts them. The view would be a lot nicer if you had seen it at sunset and Renjun suggests staying there until you get to see it. He found some color pencils in the house you all showered in the day before and took them with him. He had been sketching and drawing the entire day. Nobody disagrees with his idea to sit there for a while and let him draw.

The sun is only starting to set and he pulls out his warmer colored pencils. He notices a dark spot of red that he tries to smudge, but it doesn’t budge.

“What the-” he mutters, gaining the attention of Jeno, who is sat beside him. The dot seems to be a light, similar to one of those cat laser pointers. The two boys follow where it comes from, just down the road.

Jeno, quicker than Renjun at realizing what it is, yells “Fuck!” and throws himself at Renjun, getting them both out of the way quick enough before a bullet is now where Renjun was sitting.

The noise makes all of you jump, and for Jisung and Chenle to wake up. Jisungs flight instinct kicks in and he moves to get up, although a bit sluggish compared to his usual reflexes.

“No!” Jeno yells, flinging himself to grab onto Jisungs ankle to keep him from running directly into open fire. Jisung falls on his face instead.

Everyone is quiet for a second, trying to process that the first group of humans you’ll have to interact with since the apocalypse started just shot at you. Next thing you know, you're being swarmed.

Their lights are blinding and you all squint. You're all being yelled at to lay face down on the floor and you do. You're outnumbered, not that it matters considering they're all holding M4’s to all of your heads. The soldiers surrounding you haven’t stopped yelling and the whole situation makes you dizzy, your hands won’t stop shaking.

From your spot on the ground, it’s hard to see the boys. There seems to be a soldier standing next to each of you, except for Jeno, who’s got three of them standing next to him, but that’s about as much as you can figure out by looking at a bunch of shoes. They’re spilling the contents from your backpacks on the floor and one of them confiscates the knife that you had left on the floor next to you.

You yell out in alarm when the soldier next to you presses their knee to your back and pulls your arms behind you. The boys protest at your distress but shut up when Mark gets kicked in the gut. Your hands are tied behind your back with a zip tie and you think about how it might break open your skin with how tight the zip tie is.

“This one had a knife,” he announced to the rest of the soldiers. The soldier that you assume is in charge is eying the bats that are sitting a little further from you guys, covered in blood and dirt. He yells at the soldiers to sit us all up.

“I am Sergeant Park. Congratulations on having survived this long,” he gestures to the bats, “I see you have found ways to stay alive. Now, you will all be taken to a survivors camp close to this location. Cooperate, and we will get you there in no time.” He turns to a soldier, “Search them, start with their fighter and end with the one with the knife.”

The soldiers surrounding Jeno drag him into a standing position, his hands are also tied with zip ties. There's a soldier holding onto each of his arms and he is roughly patted down. The rest of the boys' pat downs go by smoothly for the most part. Jisung flinches everytime the soldier places their hands on him and the soldier seems to have fun with this. Mark doubles over in pain when the soldier puts pressure on his abdomen where he was kicked.

Finally, you’re stood up and are getting patted down. There's a man behind you, holding your arms despite you already being restrained. You try your best to keep still and not say anything, even when the soldier unnecessarily squeezes your breasts. The soldier smiles sleazily at you and watches your face for discomfort as he moves on to your next breast. You don’t protest until his hands go more south, lifting up your skirt. You cross your legs in defense and try to move away only to cry out at the way that the soldier holding your arms twists them and the ziptie cuts open the skin on your wrist.

“Get the fuck off them, man” you hear Jaemin protest. The soldier only laughs at him, “Little darling had a knife, kid. Gotta make sure they aren’t hiding anything else on them.”

Jeno struggles in their hold as well but is kicked onto his knees.

Jaemin’s frustration only grows, “I said get the fuck off of them!” He’s able to shove off the soldier that was only loosely holding him and punch the soldier that had touched you before he’s jumped by another two soldiers and put on his back and also ziptied. They kick him a couple of times before you protest, “Okay! Finish your pat down or whatever. Just leave him alone.”

The soldier smiles smugly at Jaemin before standing in front of you again. You can’t help trying to squirm away when he lifts up your skirt again and you look away from the shitty man in front of you.

Later, when you get to talk about this moment, Chenle tells you that all of the boys looked away. It had been a traumatizing moment for you and perhaps selfishly, the boys didn’t want to watch that.

The soldier grabs your crotch tightly and he leans in close to you before whispering, “See, it isn’t so bad.” He leaves after that.

The boys are allowed to stand up. Renjun helps Mark up. Jeno and Jaemin are being held by soldiers. Jaemin is visibly the most banged up by the encounter, but he holds himself well after having been in many fights.

A truck driven by more soldiers approaches and the soldiers holding all of you push you in their direction. One of them orders Jisung to pick up your bats and he scrambles to do so. Renjun returns all of your dumped items into the backpack, only for it to be snatched from him. When the truck stops in front of you, the soldiers shove the boys on first before climbing in themselves. With no space left for you to sit, one of the soldiers beckons for you to sit on their lap. You don’t protest.

The truck continues to go down the road, silently. It’s night now, so you can hear crickets and the crunching of the tire. Your group becomes alarmed when the truck takes a sudden turn, you would have fallen off the truck if not for the soldier's stiff grip. You’re now being driven away from the city, down a dirt path. The road is bumpy and you're sure the soldier under you is sporting a boner. You try to focus on controlling your breathing, closing your eyes so you can ignore the burning gaze of everyone on the truck. A hand falls on your thigh, radiating warmth as it presses against your skin. For a moment, you think you’re going to throw up. You feel a kick at your shoe and you open your eyes to see Chenle across from you. He smiles and winks at you and you can’t help but chuckle at his stupidity.

The truck abruptly stops and the eight of you are pulled out of the truck and ushered into the camp. A clearing has been made for the camp, that much is clear with how its in the middle of the forest, with trees surrounding it in every direction except for the small dirt road you came in from. The camp is surrounded by two sets of tall wired gates. From what you can see, there is only one entrance and it is heavily guarded, even if there are military personnel throughout the entire perimeter.You pass through the first gate quickly after the sergeant gives the order to let you in, but the second gate is a bit trickier. There's a table with two medical professionals, fully covered head to toe. Here, they do simple check-ups on each of you, using lights to look into your eyes, ears, and mouth. Chenle gets his scraped knee disinfected and bandaged, but when they hand you all identification cards with your names on them, his comes with an extra symbol. From here, there are three entrances to the camp, a small gate opening behind the table where military and medical staff come in and out of, and two identical buildings on either side of the building. You are informed that the one on the right is for men and the one on the left is for women. Soon, you’re being pulled away from the boys, you follow the staff without much of a fight when you see the soldiers watching you intently. Once inside, you give the staff the card they hand just given you as you are led down the hall and into an office.

You look around, trying to discern what sort of place this is. There are no windows and the walls are made of concrete. You can’t help feeling like you’re in jail. Despite this, the office is decently sized and well decorated, with a fancy looking desk and pc. You are directed to sit down and wait for the doctor before the staff closes the door. You sit in silence for a moment, listening to their footsteps fade away before you are out of your seat and trying to open the door; it’s locked. Defeated, you make your way back to your seat and look around the office. There's a plaque that reads Dr. Kang. You wonder if the boys are going through the same thing, locked into an office with an unpresent doctor. Your thoughts are interrupted when the door swings open and a woman walks in. She is young, maybe in her early thirties, with long dark hair and sharp eyes. She is wearing a sleek navy suit that accentuates the length of her legs. Her appearance would lead you to believe that nothing out of the ordinary was occurring and you can’t help but wonder how she has managed to find the time to keep her manicure looking nice.

She doesn’t say anything when she walks in or sits down on the other side of the desk from you. Her eyes flicker to you for a second before returning to her computer screen, not wasting a second in acknowledging her. Still, you keep your eyes on her, not wanting her to think that she has the upperhand in making you uncomfortable. A couple of minutes go by of her clicking on her mouse and keyboard and you staring at her. Finally she seems to stop and look up to you. A smile graces her features and she makes eye contact with you, “I am Dr. Kang, nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

Her smile makes you uncomfortable rather than feeling reassured and you decide at this moment not to trust her. “I’m sure you already know that. I arrived here with seven boys, when will I be able to see them?”

She laughs at this, “I do know your name, but it is respectful to introduce yourself when meeting someone new. Nonetheless, I can see those boys mean a great deal to you, so let's try to do this quickly and get you back to them.” She watches you with the same cold smile until you nod in agreement. She asks you questions about your family, if you've contacted them and the sorts. You give her vague answers which she types quickly into her files. The questionnaire is quite boring, similar to what your physician may ask you at your yearly check up. She asks you about where you were when the outbreak happened and if you had lost anyone, if you were with the boys when it happened. You think about lying, telling her that yes, you had been with the boys the entire time, they had been your school friends that were together when misfortune struck, but you worry about being caught lying. Would it even matter? Still, you keep most of the truth to yourself, skipping over the part with Jungwoo and tell her that you met up with the boys a couple of days after the outbreak first happened. You hope they say the same thing.

“When was your last period? Are you sexually active?” You know what she’s insinuating, of course. Her smug smile makes the question more telling as well. Although, you're not sure what reason she would have to feel smugly about knowing that you’re potentially having sex with one or multiple of the boys you were found with.

Still you smile at her rather sarcastically, “Celibate, actually.” Your smile grows when you see her fake smile falter slightly.

“And your period?”

“Haven’t gotten it in a couple months.”

She hums, “Well, if you're sure you're not pregnant, then you were probably under a lot of stress, or something else could be potentially wrong. We’ll check in with you about that occasionally.”

You give her a curt nod. She types away at her computer for a while longer. She talks to you without lifting her gaze from her screen, “We’re done here. You’ll be getting your blood tested to make sure there aren’t any mutations in your DNA or are in the middle of turning.”

You’re taken from that room into another with medical equipment. A younger nurse approaches you and explains how she’s going to draw some blood from your arm. Her attitude is just as unsettling as Dr. Kang’s due to how preppy she is, but it seems more authentic and you haven’t decided if that's more or less concerning.

You flinch when the needle is inserted into your arm and she makes a comment about not liking needles. You watch her flip through a file that you assume belongs to you. There's a page that she spends significantly longer looking through and you can’t help but wonder what is written on it.

“You arrived here with other people?” You nod.

“Are you all close?”

“We’re friends. Does it matter?”

She laughs at your stiffness, “Just trying to make conversation. Usually the women's evaluation process takes longer than the men’s, so they’re probably about done, they could be entering the camp now.”

You can imagine them looking for you, walking through all of the bunk beds filled with people. Chenle and Jaemin might even be yelling for you, with Jisung following behind them, covering his face in embarrassment. She takes your fingerprint and a strand of your hair while tests are being run on your blood. You want to ask her why they need them but refrain from asking questions you know you won’t be given answers to. The machine she’s standing by dings when your tests are done and she scrolls through them. Her smile seems to die and is replaced by a frown.

Your worry grows as she walks toward you and you sit up. She stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, watching her pull open a drawer next to you.

“I hope those boys care about you” she says before sticking a needle into your chest.

You want to scream but realize you don’t have the energy to. You try lifting your hand to remove the syringe but your arm flops over before you can get a proper grip on it. The nurse is laying you down as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

What– what did she do to me?

You’re unconscious before you can come up with an answer.

...

tagging! @staysstrays, @caspervoid, @alyselenai, @lethephin, @leechipp, @kodzukena, @kikookii, @rkiveruinz, @shley-chan, @butterfliesinthenightsky, @olxviaaaa

wanna be tagged? click here:)

a/n: hi! sorry for being gone for so long. I can't promise consistency, but I had a lot of fun working on this chapter and already have a decent part of the next one written. This chapter is pretty long too! Enjoy :3

#nct dream x reader #nct dream x platonic!reader #mark x reader #renjun x reader #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader #haechan x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader #stay alive

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secretsecretbunny · 4 months

Text

Just friends: stray kids smau.

Part 1.5: The Rumor.

paring: lee minho x f!reader - roommate!skz

genre: fluff, angst, roommates au.

warnings for this chapter: angst, cussing, alcohol mention, assault mention, sex mention, fighting.

Notes: ⚠️THIS IS A FLASHBACK CHAPTER. PLEASE READ THE CHARACTER INTRO AND PART ONE FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE. ⚠️

College. The origins of your friend group date back to your high school days, when you, Chan, and Changbin first bonded over your shared love of music and movies. From then on, the three of you were practically inseparable, supporting each other every step of the way.

Come freshman year of college, Chan and Bin befriended Minho, someone they met in class, but your friendship with Minho began later on that same semester when you were assigned that fated project together. After you and Minho got over your distaste for each other, your friend group became four, constantly together and causing trouble, much to Chan's dismay. It stayed that way until the start of sophomore year when Chan started inviting his cousin Felix to join in on your hangouts, and then Felix invited Jisung and Hyunjin, and finally Hyunjin started bringing Seungmin and Jeongin around. Eventually, you were a close knit group of nine wild idiots.

You had always been a platonically touchy person, craving physical contact and intimacy in all your friendships. Whether it was holding hands, cuddling, or simply sitting close together, you found comfort in the nearness of your friends. As a result, your circle embraced this trait and soon enough, it became the norm to see you all piled up in a cozy corner, phones out, scrolling mindlessly or studying together.

Halfway through sophomore year came the rumor. It had started at a party, most of your group was drunk save for Innie and Seungmin who were merely tipsy. In the midst of the lively party at the frat house, you discovered a secluded nook, packed with an assortment of soft bean bag chairs and pillows, which became the perfect setting for your drunken cuddle puddle.

You were sitting between Chan's legs, your back leaning against his chest while he stroked your hair. Jisung was sat the same way between your legs as your hand rubbed his arm while you scrolled through TikTok with the other one. Felix lay on both of yours and Chan's thighs, Minho rested a shoulder on Chan's left side and Jeongin did so likewise to his right. The remaining members laid across each other nearby. You were all touching in some way or another just vibing, chatting, and giggling.

After a while you started noticing people looking your way, whispering, laughing, and staring, but in your drunken state, you didn't think anything of it. Suddenly Chan sat up straight, lurching you forward a bit. "We need to go." He said sternly, looking at his phone, eyes wide, anger and concern written on his face. "What? Why?" you asked, clearly confused. Minho looked at Chan's phone over his shoulder, his face taking on the same expression. "What the fuck..." he whispered. "What?" you asked again. "It's nothing. Let's just get out of here, okay?" Chan reiterated. "What's going on, let me see!" you giggled, reaching for Chan's phone, he pulled it out of your reach. "It's not important." he lied. You pouted "come onnnnn, Channie." you whined. "y/n..." After struggling to get hold of his phone for a moment, you eventually succeeded but were taken aback by the unexpected image on the screen, making your face drop.

On his phone sat a photo posted on the school's official Facebook page. A photo of the nine of you, mere moments ago, with the word 'whore' scribbled sloppily across your face, and 'simp' scribbled on each of theirs. The caption read "I bet they pass her around like a joint". As you scanned the comments, reading each one, you noticed a common theme..

- "Ew. I bet those boys are infected with something now 🤢"

- "She's probably looser than a child's tooth lmfao"

- "bet she's had more turns than a door knob."

- "I heard she sleeps with professors too 😬"

- "wonder if she gets paid for it, I heard the two pretty boys are rich."

- "how many of them do you think she's taken at once? 😏"

- "at least she's hot, you think they'd share her with me?"

When you finally stopped reading the comments, all eight of the boys were looking at the phone with you, their faces reflecting a deep sense of horror and disbelief. Your eyes burned with tears as your face heated up with embarrassment, your heart racing and your mind filled with thoughts of shame and self-consciousness. Chan took his phone back and stood up, pulling you up with him. The boys followed suit, trailing behind you as Chan lead you out the door by your arm, guiding you through the crowded frat house with a firm grip. None of you even bothered grabbing your jackets from the corridor, the cold air outside nipping at your skin. It seemed nearly everyone there had gotten the notification about the post. They all stared and whispered as you made your way out of the party.

Your group's steadfast pace didn't stop until you were off campus, Felix mentioning that his family had a property that they could go to instead of heading back to their respective dorms. The boys came to a decision that you would all take the bus there, the next one arriving in somewhere around 30 minutes from then. You hadn't said a word since leaving the frat house, your eyes glued to the ground, unable to make eye contact with any of them. Changbin had given you his hoodie to keep you warm as you all waited for the bus.

"Who the fuck posted that?!" Changbin finally snapped, breaking the silence.

"I don't know but I'm going to kick their ass." Seungmin chimed in.

"No one's kicking anyone's ass.." Chan growled.

Minho scoffed. "Speak for yourself, Chris."

The four of them began bickering before Jisung finally spoke up "SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU'RE UPSETTING HER!!" he shouted at them. They went silent, looking at you with concern. Tears were streaming down your face as Jeongin rubbed your back gently and Jisung squatted in front of where you sat on the bench, holding your hands firmly. Hyunjin and Felix stood off to the side, scrolling through the comments on the post, attempting damage control by responding to negative remarks.

"It's gonna be okay, bug. I promise." Jisung whispered, rubbing the tops of your hands with his thumbs.

Jeongin stroked circles on your back. "Try not to let it get to you, noona."

The bus ride to the house was silent except for Felix and Hyunjin whispering quietly to each other while still engrossed in their phones. Minho sat next to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close as the dark scenery outside passed by in a blur.

The bus dropped you all off at the bus stop nearest to the house, but you still had to walk about 10 minutes to get there. Once you arrived, Felix punched in the code and ushered everyone inside. The interior was chilly as no one currently lived there full time, so the heating system didn't need to be on. Felix clicked it on and turned on the lights. "My parents were just here a couple of weeks ago when they came to visit, so there's probably still snacks and drinks if you guys want anything." He said, leading everyone to the living room.

You didn't speak again until a couple of hours had passed, everyone submerged in their phones, most likely still doing damage control. You broke the silence. "I'm so sorry.." you whispered, though in the thick silence, it was deafening. As you sat there, your eyes refused to leave the torn fabric of your jeans, as if searching for an answer that only they could provide. Your knees were pulled to your chest as if trying to shield yourself.

Hyunjin spoke for the first time in what seemed like hours "What? Why are you sorry?" he asked, sounding almost offended. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I- I should have known how it would look to everyone.. I'm always hanging all over you guys.." your eyes started started tearing up again. "how many relationships have I ruined for you guys? ...you never date.. is it because people see me all over you? How long have people been assuming this? Was this even the first post? What if they-" you were rambling when Felix stopped you "Hey hey hey, we all hang all over each other, bubs. It's not just you and you shouldn't be putting blame on yourself like that." Seungmin nodded in agreement "Those fuckasses don't even know what they're talking about, all they have is sex on the brain, obviously it's clouding their common fucking sense." he spat out, arms crossed over his chest. "Plus anyone who thinks physical affection is only sexual surely doesn't have a fully developed brain." Jeongin chimed in. Your hands were shaking, something that didn't go unnoticed by Minho. "Take a deep breath, princess." he said softly, taking your hands "this is gonna pass, everyone will forget about this soon enough."

But it didn't pass, and no one forgot. When you all went back to your classes on Monday, the whispers and stares were seemingly worse. Word had spread like wildfire and it felt like everyone knew about the rumor, even the professors and staff. It continued like that for weeks before things gradually got worse.

Guys would not leave you alone, all of them thinking you were easy and that they had a chance. They would get in your space, whistle at you, even straight up ask you for sexual favors. You even had to stop wearing skirts because guys would flip it up when they'd walk by you. Their behavior eventually caused your friends to get into fights. First it was Changbin, landing a punch to a guy who had grabbed your ass, successfully breaking the guy's nose. Then it was Seungmin, full on kicking a guy to the ground who dared to lift your dress to check the color of your panties. Jisung and Minho followed, teaming up on a few guys who had you cornered against a wall in the back of the library. Even sunshine boy Felix found himself in a fight or two. They all repeatedly got in trouble for violence while those creeps got away scot-free.

Eventually you started skipping your classes and began avoiding your friends. You even stopped staying at the big house and held yourself captive in your tiny dorm room, ignoring their calls and texts. Tensions ran high between the boys, they were always arguing and fighting, their group was completely falling apart and they hadn't seen you in almost two weeks.

Finally, after weeks of being ignored by you, who had suddenly become distant and unresponsive, Chan and Minho decided that they have had enough. Chan organized a group meeting in order to confront the issue head-on. Since you were still ignoring everyone's texts and calls at this point, Minho took matters into his own hands by physically going over to your dorm and practically breaking in just so he could retrieve you. "You can't just fucking ignore us like this, y/n! Do you know how worried we were?!" he said, his voice raised. You said nothing. "Chan wants to talk to everyone. We're going. Now." He stated, almost a demand. He threw some decent clothes at you for you to change into before basically dragging you off campus, and getting you an uber to the house.

When Minho got you into the house, he lead you to the living room where everyone sat, quietly bickering. "Got her." Minho stated as you both entered the living room. Everyone went quiet, looking at you. "Jesus, bug, you look like you haven't slept in weeks!" Jisung said as he got up, pulling you into a hug.

Seungmin broke the silence that followed. "So, what, why the hell are we here acting like we're having some sort of twisted intervention?"

Chan sighed, clearly frustrated. "I'm tired of this tearing us apart. This needs to stop. We're constantly fighting with each other and other students. Hell, Seungmin and Minho are one fight away from expulsion for fucks sake!!" he yelled.

Seungmin raised his voice back "yeah well y/n is just avoiding the fucking situation while we all fight for her ass!"

Okay, that one pissed you off. "Who the fuck asked you to fight for me?! Did you even stop to think for one god damn moment that I'm removing myself from the group to stop the fucking rumor!?!" you shouted. The room fell silent as everyone's eyes turned towards you, their faces etched with shock and disbelief. Never before had they heard you raise your voice, and rarely did you even show a hint of anger, especially not towards them. "Am I just supposed to continue like everything is normal?! Continue ruining your lives and reputations!? Having me around you only made shit worse!! Tell me, have you even gotten into fights with other students since I disappeared?!" You screamed. More silence followed. "Yeah.. that's what I fucking thought.." you mumbled, voice cracking. "Having me around will only make shit worse.."

Felix broke the next bout of silence. "but we want you around, y/n. We need you around." Now his voice was cracking.

"Our group isn't the same without you, sweetheart" Chan followed up, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're our glue."

"I miss my smoke buddy.." Jisung added.

"I miss my noona" Jeongin followed up.

Hyunjin chimed in next "who's going to judge people and gossip with me if you're not around?"

"Yeah, and it's not like these guys will watch cheesy dramas and romcoms with me.." Changbin all but whined.

"I mean I GUESS I miss you or whatever.." Seungmin grumbled, turning his face away to hide the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"Well, I definitely really fucking miss you, princess." Minho whispered, wiping a fresh tear from your cheek.

You let out a shaky breath. "What do we do? If I'm around you things just get worse.. they'll never stop talking about it. They'll never leave us alone. There's a new post about us almost every week! They're not going to let it go and if I keep going to class I'm just going to keep getting assaulted and you guys are going to get expelled for fighting!" You cried. "I miss you guys so fucking much it hurts!" you were full on sobbing at this point. "But what are we supposed to do besides drift apart?" Your last question came out as a whisper.

There was that silence.. Jisung was the one to break it again. "I mean.. what if we just.. dropped out?" he suggested.

Everyone looked between each other. "Well, I mean.. I'm going to be honest, I'm not even planning on using my degree." Chan said. "I've already started producing music in my spare time, and I know Bin and Ji are into it too, I'll have no problem building us a platform with it."

Seungmin shrugged. "I'm already in the process of starting my own business, and people seem interested. Shouldn't be an issue for me either."

"To be honest classes have been stressful with having a job at Bean Artisan, I like coffee a lot more than school, I skip half of my classes anyway.." Jeongin said with a shrug.

Minho looked at you. "I've been offered a full time teaching position at In Motion Studios. I wasn't going to take it because of school but.. I'd like to."

"and Felix and I have money coming out of our asses, who needs college?" Hyunjin added, Felix nodded in agreement before adding "and my family really wouldn't mind giving us the house. They only ever used this place to visit me because I was staying at the dorms."

You looked at all of them, your lip quivering. "why... why would you all drop out because of me..? I'm not worth that.." you murmured.

They all spoke together in a cacophony of convictions, each one trying to drown out the others with their own certainty. The air was thick with the clashing of various 'of course you are's, 'don't say that's, and 'we want to's. You chuckled through tears as you heard Seungmin throw in a "who cares, fuck the system!"

"and we can take care of you, bubs!" Felix said "I won't even notice a shift in my account if I started spending on you"

You shook your head "No, no. If we do this, I'll find work. I.. think I know a girl who could get me into something that pays well.."

The steady rhythm of the clock's ticking filled the quiet space, emphasizing the pause in conversation.

"Sooooo, are we doing this?" Jisung questioned with a smile, looking to you for the answer.

The attention in the room shifted from each other to focus entirely upon you; every eye turned towards you like a compass needle pointing north - making this moment yours alone to decide what happens next. They waited patiently (and perhaps also anxiously) for your answer to set the conversation in motion once again.

You looked between them, your eyes jumping from one boy to another, finally landing on Minho's encouraging gaze, his pleading eyes and nod of approval filling you with the confidence to finally speak. "...fuck it. Let's do this." you decided.

With wide grins spreading across all their faces, Chan quickly rounded everyone up until they were enveloped within one massive embrace where you sat snuggly at its heart. "Don't you ever disappear on us like that again, sweetheart. You worried us to death." Chan cooed, his chin resting on your head as he stroked your hair.

"Yes, daaaad~" you teased.

As Chan rolled his eyes, his subtle smile gave way to the amusement he felt, prompting the boys to snicker.

After a few weeks of adjustment, things finally started feeling like they were back to normal again, albeit a new kind of normalcy that everyone had to get used to. With everyone now living under the same roof, you all began to grow closer and more tight-knit as time went on. More jokes were shared as well as quality time, and you didn't have to worry about anyone judging your group for being affectionate with each other. Everything just seemed to fall into place and you were content. Happy even.

The only stress you had was brought in the form of your newly acquired job. But that's a story for another time..

mlist || part two

a/n: hopefully this will hold you guys over until I finish part two!! Please please let me know how you liked this by liking, reblogging, or leaving me a comment/ask!!

I don't do taglists!

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz #stray kids #straykids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bunbunworks #series: just friends #bangchan #lee minho #lee know #changbin #han jisung #hyunjin #felix #seungmin #jeongin #ot8 x reader

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yeonjuns-beanie · 1 year

Text

Mirotic

warnings: college!au frat party setting cuz i live vicariously thru fics, chan and reader are music majors, mirror sex, dirty talk, oral(f receiving), hair pulling, semi-rough sex, cocky chan, slim thick reader(really i just mention readers ass a lot), some self deprecating comments, weed usage, unprotected sex, squirting, having sex on someone else’s bed, i think that’s it lol

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts forever and I just never finished it. think imma start working on an ateez fic after i post this one but we’ll see. hope whoever reads this is having a good day/night and that you enjoy it! ~ nero

chan x female reader

word count: 5.4k

You parked your car on the side of the street knowing that it would be the easiest way for you to get back after leaving the party. You were coming up on the end of the semester and your friend Jisung was adamant that you needed to take a break. Take the edge off the imposing doom of finals and come to the party his frat was hosting. The aura frat parties brought was never really your essence, but you’d never turn down a free drink so you thought why not.

Stepping out of the car and brushing out your skirt you shut the door and began the trek to the building. You could hear the bass from the music echo outside, neon lights adorning the front of the frat and you felt your stomach drop a little. Suddenly feeling somewhat nervous.

I wonder if Chan is gonna be here tonight

You thought to yourself and suddenly you became critical of your outfit. It’s not that you looked bad, it’s just now you were wondering if it would catch enough of his attention.

Chan was one of Jisung’s best friends. He wasn’t in the frat technically, but he was around so much that they almost considered him an honorary member. Chan had also been in your music theory classes for the past three years and over time you developed a small crush on him but had never done anything about it. You’d much rather chew on your crush, hiding it in the deepest parts of yourself and keep it platonic rather than embarrass yourself by outing your feelings.

You finally reached the front steps of the frat house only to be greeted by none other than Chan himself.

“Hey! Y/n, how are you? I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.”

He held his red solo cup out to the side so he could give you a hug

“Hey Chan, I didn’t know you were gonna be here either. Ji insisted that I needed to take a break from preparing for finals.” you chuckled out

“Ugh, tell me about it. I know juries are coming up in a few weeks but I have no motivation to work on my pieces.”

“That’s exactly how I feel! But ya know we’re so close to being done we might as well just power through, ya know.”

Chan sighed

“Yeah, you’re right, but still.”

Letting out an airy chuckle, his attention seemed to divert for a moment. You looked at him trying to figure out where his mind went and you almost didn’t catch it, but you caught him raking over your body.

“Wanna go grab a drink? I feel bad keeping you right here at the door”

You nodded, following him inside the front door. Passing through the entryway, you realized how packed it was this time around. This wasn’t your first party Jisung invited you to, but it was definitely the first one where the house was almost completely packed. Forcing you to slide sideways through crowds of people

Guess everyone needed the night off

“Y/N, do you want punch or something from one of the coolers?”

It wasn’t Chan’s voice that brought you out of your thoughts but rather his hand resting on your lower back and his head coming to your ear so that you could hear.

“Ummm, I think I’ll do the punch for now. Are there any truly’s in the cooler?”

“I think so yeah.”

Walking over to the cooler you bent down to sift through all the cans. What you didn’t realize was that while you were digging through the variety of drinks, Chan was watching your every move. Watching every curve of your body bend with the way you moved. He almost lost his composure watching you finally stand up from your crouched position, your skirt riding up a tiny bit and your ass being accentuated. Turning around he had a solo cup waiting for you.

Shaking the truly can you looked at him and smiled

“Gotta add just a little extra”

“Oh, my bad I guess I should’ve asked”

You furrowed your brow wondering what he meant until you looked down at the cup and saw that he had filled it nearly to the brim

“God damn Chris! I know you’re a giver but shit!”

You laughed out. Taking the cup, you brought it to your lips and sucked down about a quarter of the punch so that you’d have room to add your truly to the mix in the cup.

“It will never not amaze me how you put away alcohol. It’s impressive honestly.”

You looked up at him after meticulously topping off your drink and finishing the truly in one go.

“It’s just cuz I’m fat, it takes a lil longer to metabolize for me. I feel it but not quickly.”

Chan rolled his eyes and looked at you with a slight glare.

“I’m kidding, damn! You don’t gotta eat me alive with your eyeballs”

“Y/N, you know I don’t vibe with you talking bad about yourself”

“But is it really talking bad about me if it’s a joke? Cause if that’s the case, I got a lot of beef with how you talk about yourself.”

Chan went to open his mouth but then immediately closed it after he considered that you were also right.

“That’s what I thought”

You smiled to yourself, finding amusement in the situation.

“Have you seen Ji, by the way? I wanna say hi to him before I forget tonight.”

Chan whipped his head towards you

“You plan on drinking that much??”

“Only if I get left unattended.”

“Well, then I guess that means you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of the night. And actually, I think he’s upstairs at the pong table.”

“Shall we go?”

Chan nodded and held his hand out. You eagerly took it while he led you through the house and up to the second level in the loft where the ping pong table was. There was already a game of beer pong in play so you just watched off to the side, noticing that Jisung had his turn next. Walking up to the edge of the table he noticed the two of you standing off to the side.

“Hey lovebirds! Lemme get this shot real quick”

Chan removed his hand from yours, Jisung’s comment making the blood rush to his ears. You paid no mind to it, even though you did kinda miss the feeling of his hand in yours. Jisung tossed his ball and it sank into a cup almost in slow motion

How is he always so good at this game?

He threw his fists in the air and walked over to you guys. Giving Chan a bear hug, he softened his body language when he turned to you.

“You made it!”

“Yes, I did. I figured you were right”

You giggled out.

“So what was with the hand holding? Y’all finally together?”

Unbeknownst to you, Jisung was teasing Chan. Chan had told Jisung in passing that he may have a crush on you. You also had told Jisung about your crush on Chan but never expected him to do anything about it. Obviously, Jisung had other plans that he informed neither of you about. He was trying his best to take advantage of this information and see if he could get it out of him in front of you. But before Chan could answer, you but in, saving him from his own embarrassment.

“Ji, it’s not like that! He just gave me his hand so it’d be easier to come up here. There are hella people downstairs. It’s crazy!”

You widened your eyes as a small warning to Jisung not to push it any further. He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Uh huh, whatever you say.”

You sucked your teeth and looked down the hallway trying to hide your own embarrassment. Searching for another topic quickly your eyes widened again.

“Ji! Is your balcony “off limits” tonight?”

“Yesss. Why you ask?”

“Well I might have a lil something something that I’d like to put to use”

“If you’ve got an extra joint to put in my nightstand by all means head to my room”

You hugged him, more than excited to get faded tonight as well. You looked over at Chan trying to get a gauge on where he was, but you couldn’t quite read him.

“Channnn, what you wanna do right now?”

“Huh, uhh, I kinda wanna play a round of pong”

You and Jisung spoke in unison

“For real?!”

Your mouth hung open and Jisung took the reigns

“Dude I haven’t seen you play literally since freshman year. You think you still good?”

“I used to whoop your ass at this Hannie, don’t get cocky now.”

Jisung laughed, bringing his hands together to rub.

“Well, if you’re playing that means Y/n’s gotta play too.”

“What?! Why me?”

“Cause baby, you never play and you should”

“Well, what’s in it for me?”

Chan set his cup down on the banister he was leaning on and faced you fully.

“How bout we make a bet? You be on Jisung’s team 'cause he’s gonna need help and then we can bet for the winner.”

Jisung’s mouth hung open.

“You’re wrong for that one man.”

Chan just laughed.

“If you guys win, you can pick a punishment of whatever for me. I’ll give you time to think about it since I know how you are. But if I win…I get to smoke whatever you brought over and..”

He paused, leaning down to your ear to whisper the next part

“...I get to fuck you.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate sped up. Heat immediately pooled between your thighs and you weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol finally taking over, Chan’s bet throwing you into an overdrive, or both. You took a deep breath and held your hand out.

“Deal.”

Jisung was looking at the two of you, wondering what the second part of the bet was. Narrowing his eyes he walked back over to the table to set up the cups for another round.

Needless to say, having Jisung as a partner was straight ass. He’d get a few good shots here and there, but Chan was a beast at the game for no reason. You really didn’t stand a chance from the beginning. With one last cup on either side, it was your shot. Your ball hit the edge of the cup on Chan’s side and you dropped your head in defeat.

You didn’t even wanna give Chan the chance to shoot his ball because you knew he’d make it anyway. So, you picked up the cup and began to bring it to your lips, but before you could, you felt liquid splash into your face. Looking down in the cup you saw the ping pong ball floating in your cup and you looked over a Chan to see his tongue in his cheek smiling.

“Asshole.”

You called out over the music.

“Ji you fucking suck!”

You laughed while pushing him on his shoulder

“Hey, I never said I was good baby. I just said I liked to play.”

Jisung came to your ear to whisper something

“What was the second half of his bet?”

You moved so he could hear you.

“I’ll tell you later.”

You giggled and chugged back the liquid in the cup. Chan walked over to your side of the table and motioned down the hallway.

“Wanna go smoke?”

“Uhh, yeah sure. Ji, you cool if we go?”

“Yeah that’s fine, just don't fuck on my bed.”

“Ohhh my god, dude.”

Chan chuckled but you were already making your way down the hallway, Jisung called out to you

“Make sure to leave the joint please!”

“Got it dickhead!”

“Love you!”

“Sure you do”

You mumbled under your breath. Making your way to his door, you walked in and waited for Chan to catch up. Once he did, you locked the door to make sure no one else would try and come out to the balcony as well. Digging in your bag, you found the joint and left it on his bedside table, and left an extra lighter. Knowing Jisung he probably lost the last one anyway. Turning around, you looked at Chan.

“Okay so I only have my bubbler because my pipe is gross, are you cool with that?”

“It’s your weed how am I gonna tell you how to smoke it?”

“Well part of your bet was to smoke my shit so I just wanted to make sure”

You chuckled a bit to make sure he knew that your comment was said in jest. You walked to the balcony door and laid out your stuff so you could pack a bowl. Chan followed you outside but didn’t say anything. You could tell he wanted to but he was holding back.

“Sooo, about your bet…you wanna fuck me?”

“Y/N, I- I don’t know what came over me when I said that, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Really it’s up to you and if you don’t want to then that’s cool too. Really, I don’t wanna ruin shit between us.”

You smiled to yourself as you finished filling the bubbler with water.

“Who said I didn’t want to?”

You looked up at him, eyes doe-like. The angle that you were at making him feel a little unhinged. You were on the floor setting everything up in fear of something falling out of your hands. So the way your eyes translated from the floor up to him, he felt his cock twitch behind the stiffness of his jeans.

“Wait, you want to?”

“Don’t you hear good? I just said that.”

You laughed again, your heart racing and now nerves were getting to you. You felt it on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to say it, to finally tell him but you didn’t want him to run away.

Fuck it.

“I… kinda like, like you like you. So I’m not terribly opposed to the idea of having sex with you. I want to actually”

Silence. Your heart dropped to your ass. You just fucked up. Handing the bubbler up to him, he simultaneously was coming down to your level to sit across from you. Wanting to change the subject you spoke again.

“Winner hits first. And please corner the bowl and not set the whole thing on fire, you dork.”

He looked up at you and something in his eyes had changed. He looked a lot less nervous. Before taking his hit he looked at you again and opened his mouth to speak.

“I like you like you too.”

He smiled and took a hit from the bowl.

“Shut up.”

“I do!”

Even in the pale moonlight shining on the both of you, you could tell he was going red again.

“Gimme the weed before I start screaming. I can’t believe this. How long?”

You took a long hit.

“How long what?”

Holding in the smoke and exhaling slowly, you handed the bubbler back to Chan.

“How long have you liked me for?”

“Since our second semester in freshman year…”

“Freshman year?!! Dude you’ve been holding out on me.”

He took his drag and handed the bubbler back to you.

“What about you?”

You looked up at him, hinting at your answer.

“It’s the same time wasn't it?”

“…yeah.”

You bowed your head embarrassed once again

“So You have no room to talk!”

Before you spoke you felt your body fall into its state of being crossed. Suddenly your eyes became heavy and you felt your reservations begin to melt away.

“Yeah but you’re the man! You’re supposed to tell me first!” you said giggling

“Yeah, and you’re hot! So I was nervous every time I came around you. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t wanna mess up our friendship.”

You took another hit before handing it back to Chan.

“God. We’re both idiots.”

You slammed your face in your palm and waited for Chan to finish. He went to hand it back but you passed your turn, knowing you had already hit your peak.

“You finish it, I'm gone.”

You watched him light the last of the bowl and something about the way he looked doing it sent palpitations straight to your core. You were fluttering around nothing and couldn’t do anything about it. You wanted him and you wanted him bad. But you refused to make the first move, you couldn’t. You had too much pride. You shifted your position, and the pressure from your legs made your eyes wanna roll to the back of your head. Watching him clear the smoke and blow it away from you sent you over the edge.

He’s so hot

As if he knew your thoughts, he turned to look at you, his tongue buried in his cheek again with a smug grin.

“Whatcha thinking about Y/n?”

“You.”

Your mouth moved before your brain did and you didn’t entirely regret it.

“Really now?”

Chan leaned forward and you bit your lip looking at him through hooded eyelids.

“Mhmm”

Chan placed the bubbler on the ground and you placed a hand on his knee, slowly making your way up his thigh. You looked at him again head on, and the look in his eyes was completely blown over by lust.

“Why don’t you come over here”

He chided. His smirk annoyed you but also set you ablaze. You untangled your legs and moved to straddle yourself across his lap. You wrapped your hands around his neck, one of your hands finding solace near the nape of his neck playing with his hair. Your eyes dropped to his lips and traced his face back up to his eyes, teasing him while also searching for permission. But again, your pride wouldn’t let you make the first move. You wanted him to show that he wanted you, but you so desperately needed friction.

You moved to reposition yourself, but in doing so you felt his bulge. His hands moved down to your ass, grabbing handfuls of the fat. Your eyebrows furrowed upwards, desire wreaking your sense of self.

“You’re hard already? I haven’t even done anything”

“Can’t help it when you’ve got the sexiest girl sitting in your lap. And this ass… fuck”

He moaned out and guided your hips to roll over his jean clad cock one more time.

“I need you, Y/N. But I need you to tell me you need me too because once I start I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then have me however you want, Chris. I need you so bad. Please, make me feel good.”

You whined out, rolling your hips against him one more time. He grabbed your face and his lips were on yours. Years of hidden desire and pleasure unleashed the moment your lips touched. You both had wanted this for so long and now the feeling of finally having him on you was almost too much to handle. His hands found their way back down to your ass again, squeezing and molding the flesh however he pleased. You moaned into his mouth, the licentious amalgamation of his mouth and his groping was enough to have your panties begin to stick to your lips.

Chan swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking access to something that was already granted. Your tongues didn’t battle for dominance but rather battled all the lost time you two had created. There was lust, love, and a burning need for each other being expressed. His hands moved toward the hem of your shirt and you swiped it off your torso immediately. His hands reached around your back to remove your bra and as it fell his lips wrapped around your nipple. You moaned out, throwing your head back and grasping his hair in your hand.

“Shit~Chan.”

You felt him smile against you and you pulled away to look at him. He motioned you to move back, and as you stood up, he followed you and then pressed your back against the door to the balcony. His hands wrapped around your face and neck again, cradling you as he smashed his lips against your own.

His hands traveled down your ass groping you once more, but what surprised you was what came out of his mouth next.

“Jump.”

“What?”

“You heard me baby, jump.”

“But ion wann-”

“I said jump. I promise you, we’ll be fine.”

Shutting your brain off for a moment you listened to him. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine and another flutter to your core. You jumped and instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He opened the door and placed you on Han’s bed. Chan crawled up to you, his face lingering over yours. He left a trail of kisses starting from your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts and he found himself again with his lips wrapped around your nipple. He continued his trail down to the hem of your skirt before you stopped him.

“Chan, wait. Ji said to not have sex in his bed.”

“What, are you gonna tell him?’

“Well, no.”

“Then we didn’t do anything in his bed.”

He smiled and almost made his way back to his destination before you stopped him with a whine.

“What is it, baby?”

“You still have your shirt on, it’s not fair”

Chan chuckled but swiftly removed himself from his shirt.

“Better?”

“Much.”

You smiled before he made his way back to the hem of your skirt and pulled it down exposing your black lace lined panties.

“Aww, how cute. You were expecting something weren’t you?”

“N-no. I just wanted to wear them.”

“Whatever you say, baby. But I have to ask, can I take them off of you now?”

“Fuck, please do.”

You moaned out and as soon as you gave the okay, you felt the cool air greet your wet pussy.

“Such pretty little pussy. Can I eat you out, baby?”

“Fuckin hell Chris, please. Please do whatever you want to me. I want you in every way you can imah~!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Chan’s tongue swiped up your folds and his tongue played with your clit like a little bell. Swiping back and forth, up and down, he was eating you out as if you were his final meal.

“Shit shit shit, Chris. Oh my god”

He smiled against you.

“Fuck princess, say my name like that again.”

“Ch-chris! Shit, you’re so good at thi-”

You moaned out again, your back arching away from the bed as he entered two fingers into your wet cavern. Gripping at his locks, you felt the heat begin to stew in your lower body. It was like electricity was flowing through your lower half and you wanted nothing more than to implode on yourself.

“Channie, I’m about to cum, please don’t stop.”

“C'mon Y/N, you know what to call me. Don’t slip up or I’ll have to stop.”

“No no no Chris, please, please don’t stop. I wanna cum. I wanna cum so bad.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg.”

He dove back into your center, picking up the pace slightly as he curled his fingers inside of you. You began to flutter around him incessantly, your orgasm just on the precipice. The pressure that was building was almost unbearable and you couldn’t hold out for much longer.

“Chris, I-I”

“C’mon baby, cum for me”

That was all you needed. His permission and with that you came around him. It felt like such a big release. You couldn’t tell if your orgasm was that intense because what you had been wishing for had finally happened or if the fact of you being crossed was the culprit.

“Y/n, that has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Han’s gonna be upset though.”

You looked at him confused.

“What do you mean”

Chan looked down and you followed his eyes to the puddle that was seeping through the duvet cover on Han’s bed. Mortified you shoved your face in your hands. You were about to apologize when Chan moved your hands away from your face.

“Don’t you even think about apologizing. That was one of the sexiest things you’ve done this entire night and I kinda want to see if I can make you do it again.”

He smiled at you, but you could see the devious intent behind his kind facade.

“Now I’d love to sit and admire you, but I really need to be inside of you Y/N.”

Chan moved from the bed to peel off his pants and he climbed back over you.

“Condom?”

“I’m uh, I’m on the pill”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, 100%. I want to feel you, all of you.”

“Fuckin hell baby, alright.”

Chan looked at you one last time before lining himself up with your entrance. He teased just his head and you mewled against him, trying to shove yourself down onto him. He chuckled before fully sheathing himself within you. You both moaned as he entered you fully, your breath hitching as he did. He started with a slow pace, so slow that it was agonizing.

“Chris. Please, faster. I can’t take it.”

“I’m not sure if you can take it, baby. I need to stretch you out a bit more, get you used to me”

You gripped at the sheets moaning again

“I can take it. Please, please just go faster! Have me however you want. Make me yours.”

At the end of your begging, you saw a switch flip. As if the sweetness that was Chan faded away and the person you were left with was far more immoral. Left with someone stricken by the pangs of lust and willing to do anything to satiate it.

“God, you’re so fuckin hot”

Chan picked up his pace and you realized you really weren’t ready. Chan grabbed your hips and began drilling into you. His cock was reaching you in places you never thought of. The tip of it kissed your cervix with every thrust and the pain transformed immediately into paramount pleasure. You could feel the ridges of his cock sliding in and out of you and you felt your senses start to become overstimulated.

“Chris, fuck. Fuck oh my god!”

Chan looked down at you

“Yeah? You feel good baby?”

“Yes, oh my god. Fuck you’re so big”

You began fluttering around him again and your nails found themselves sliding down his back. Marking him as your own. He moaned out at the stimulation.

“Wanna make sure everyone knows I’m yours, baby?”

You whimpered with a nod and rolled your head back into the bed. Suddenly he pulled out of you. Before you could complain why he had you flipped over on your hands and knees and reentered you from behind.

“Fuuuckk. Chris!”

“Oh, baby. Look at this ass, you’re so fuckin sexy.”

With each thrust, the fat of your ass rippled against him and it made him feel just a bit more untamed. Chan was grabbing at your ass, moving it counter with his thrusts. His hand then trailed down your back to wrap in your hair and when you looked up you saw yourself in the mirror behind Han’s bed.

“Look at my baby. All fucked out just from me, hmm?”

All you could do was moan in response. Thoughts were not coming in full, especially with the view of yourself looking right back at you.

“Too dumb to answer me Y/N? Have I fucked you dumb, baby?”

Moaning out again you found your voice

“Yes, yes! Just for you. All for you. You make me feel this good, Chris.”

Chan removed his hand from your hair and wrapped it around your neck instead, pressing on the pressure points underneath your jaw. You squeezed around him, the choking sensation bringing you to your peak faster than you thought.

“Aww my baby’s a little filthy, isn’t she? She likes being choked. I wonder what other filthy things you want me to do to you”

You moaned out his dirty talk bringing you right to the edge.

“Chris, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Please, please let me cum.”

You practically sobbed. He was making you feel so good and you couldn’t handle it. His hand came down to rub your clit and bring you to the release you’ve been craving since he entered you.

“Cum baby. Cum around me. Just one more time I know you can do it.”

And there it was. Just as abrupt as the last, your orgasm shook you. Your core vibrating with waves of pleasure and your pussy squeezing around Chan’s cock. You began heavy breathing as Chan fucked you through your orgasm.

“Please, cum inside me, Chris. I wanna feel you fill me up.”

That was what pushed him over the edge. You felt his ropes of hot cum splat and pool against your walls. His moans landing right in your ear with his head resting against your shoulder blades. He slowed his pace down, riding out the waves of his orgasm. Pulling out slowly he rolled over onto his back and you did the same.

“You squirted again.”

“Again?!! What the hell.”

He laughed

“I don’t know why you’re embarrassed by it. It tells me I’m doing a good job. So I’m not complaining.”

“You’re gross”

You punched his arm lightly.

“Says the one that begged me to fill them up”

“God please don’t repeat what I said out loud I’m gonna wanna run away.”

“But it’s so hot Y/N. You’re so beautiful and then the dirty little things that fall from your mouth. God. I can’t help but replay it.”

You rolled on your side to look at him

“Soo…”

“Sooour”

“I do not say it like that”

“Yes, you do Chan.”

Now the both of you were laughing both glowing in the aftermath of sex and finally confessing to each other. He moved a piece of hair from your face and looked at you with eyes full of wonder.

“So I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I really do like you and I want us to continue this beyond just sex…so be my girlfriend?”

“I think that’s the most forward I’ve ever heard you be.”

“Oh shut up, just answer the question.”

“I’d love to”

He made a small yes and double fisted at your answer

“I think we should get food in the morning to celebrate our discovery about each other.”

You laughed

“You’re such a dork. I think we should get food now because I am suffering severely from the munchies”

A hearty laugh left him. His eyes crinkled and that smile that you love so much was plastered on his face.

“One problem though.”

He turned and pulled you closer to him, to which you moved to straddle him again.

“We somehow gotta change Jisung’s sheets before he finds out.”

Chan sat up and you felt his cock begin to harden again.

“We’ll I kinda want another round with you before we fully clean up.”

“I’m up for that”

“Yeah?”

You nodded quickly and smiled at him before landing your lips on his. Grinding against him you felt him become fully hard again and before you two could continue you heard the lock on Jisung’s door turn to open.

“Oh, c'mon! I thought I said to not fuck on my bed.”

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfic #bang chan #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop imagines

1K notes · View notes

mayaflowerxs · 11 months

Note

hii! if u don't mind, can u do meandom!jaemin && softdom!jisung threesome please? :D

SHARING IS CARING

Synopsis: Loving you in secrecy is a lot harder than Jisung thought it’d be. Especially when your boyfriend is his possessive best friend. But maybe Jaemin’s kink for voyeurism may just be the way to your pants & possible heart.

Warning: Smut! / swear word usage, voyeurism kink, exhibition, est. relationship, threesome, creampies, dirty talking, and name calling, Jisung is a lovesick pup. (Not the best im so sorry!)

Pairing: Jaemin x f!reader x Jisung

Loud banging can be heard from downstairs. What was supposed to be a movie night soon turned into a sex marathon upstairs in Jaemin’s room. A part of the guys wanted to be understanding, okay yeah it has been a long time since there has been any alone time spent with you but to do it when everyone’s home? Jesus.

None of them really had the energy to get dressed and go out and hoped that maybe turning up the volume would heard. But to their dismay it only got louder upstairs. To say Jaemin was a beast would be an understatement, but to make it even more interesting. It wasn’t even just you and him up there, but one other person as well.

Their maknae.

“Fuck Jisung faster!“ They can hear you shout, the bed frame smacking into the thin wall over and over again. The guys send each other look, a silent agreement. “Movie theaters?” Mark makes the effort to speak up first. “Yeah sure.” A chorus was made as they are quick to drop everything and leave as soon as possible. Leaving with a loud slam on the door but that wasn’t going to stop the sinful actions going on in your boyfriends room.

Your relationship with Jaemin is for the most part not an open relationship. He’s made it very clear you’re all his, so to explain how you managed to get dicked down by both him and his roommate is just a bit confusing. Before you began dating the boy, it had been made painfully obvious both him and Jisung has had a massive crush on you.

So much it even almost broke up their friendship. Luckily though, Jisung had managed to ‘move on’ which in some parts he did. You fell for Jaemin and so he congratulated the two of you when you made it official. It wasn’t up until a month before their upcoming comeback did all those feelings for you start spiraling back up again. The two of you hung out more, you played video games with him as look as he let you give him a makeover. You forced him to go shopping with him and he forced you on scary rollercoaster rides in return. It should’ve been platonic but when he saw how the wind brushed your hair back, your perfume hitting his nostrils and the festivals bright colorful lights hit you as the moon cascaded down. He knew in that moment that maybe he wasn’t completely over you. And that was going to cause a problem all over again.

To hide it was even worse. Seeing you get all cuddly with Jaemin only made him yearn for you all the more. He watched how the two of you cooked and fed each other food. How you sat on his lap and played with his hair. To wear matching clothes and taking photo sessions with his camera. And when he got you to himself, he was foolish to feed himself to the same standards. Thinking it was okay to inch closer to you at the dinner table.

To hold your hand just as you’re about to cross on a busy road. To lend you his hoodies just so they’d smell like you when you gave them back and to pull you into his side when you got scared. Smiling fondly at you when you painted his nails and combed his hair. All of which did not go unnoticed by Jaemin himself. As much as Jaemin considers Jisung as his brother, there is a tiny flaw he has.

And that’s how insanely possessive he is. And to have to watch Jisung shamelessly flirt with you only irked him. He can’t blame you though, you’re gorgeous and the sweetest person ever. Who wouldn’t love you? And okay, so maybe he was a little out of line when he suddenly turned you around and smashed his lips on top of yours while you were mid conversation with Jisung. And a little out of line, when he smirked as he watched Jisung clear his throat uncomfortably and walk off into the comfort of his room.

But you were his. It was thought that the two of them had finally gotten past this. Over the course of the next few weeks you noticed how much more clinger Jaemin got. Pulling you into his lap every chance he got. Kissing your neck and murmuring lewd things in your ear. Slapping your ass each time you walked past him and of course in front of Jisung so that he knew, you were his. Jaemin thought he was doing all of this because of jealousy. Well at least that’s how it all started out as.

But that all changed the day you and him were alone in the dorms. At least that’s what you thought. You hadn’t noticed Jisung was in fact the only other person home, he had just been too preoccupied on his pc to care who was with him. It has been a long time since the two of you have had a proper day to relax. You decided why not?

Yet another loss Jisung gets in his game. Just as he’s about to press begin, he hears it. Staggered breathing, pants, groans, a bed squeaking and a slight banging on the door. As he takes off the head set his eyes widen at the realization that you were having sex with Jaemin in the room next door to his. He couldn’t believe it, a part of him felt his heart break but the majority felt curious. Wondering how you looked in such a vulnerable state. Are you just as beautiful as you always are? Of course you must be, the rushing thoughts of seeing you naked, hair disheveled and sweaty as you’re struggling to catch your breath while also begging for more made him make the irrational decision to get off his gaming chair and leave his room.

He planned to plant his ear up the door but when he sees it was actually slightly cracked open, he froze. ‘No this is wrong!’ But the closer he got the louder and more clearer he heard from you. After much conflict with himself, he did in fact get closer and boy did his imagination not do you justice. Legs pushed up to your chest, his best friend’s large hands gripping them as he focused on pounding into you. Forehead scrunched as he sets a brutal pace to your sopping cunt. Your body glistened with sweat, the ray of sunlight that pierced through the window made you glow so dearly. Your hair was scattered all over the bed but your skin. Your skin was bruised with Jaemin’s love bites that he made sure to be prominent for days despite your protests.

“Fuck Jaemin I can’t!” You cry out, hands desperately gripping the sheets as you hear your essence squelch with every hard thrust he makes. “Yes you can, fucking take it.” Jisung didn’t expect the harsh tone that falls out of his best friends mouth. To see how aggressive his thrusts were, how easily he manhandled you. Turning your body around, pressing your face down on the comforter as he returned to pounding you again. A hand gripping your hair, leaning down to suck even more hickies on your neck. Jisung felt slightly embarrassed by how easily turned on he’s getting. To feel the tight restriction in his pants the more he watches you be drilled into by his best friend.

Boy if only he knew that Jaemin was aware of his presence. And that there was a slightly possibility that the reason he began to fuck you like a madman was for Jisung’s perverted eyes.

And that he knew Jisung had been palming himself.

Jaemin couldn’t get that day out of his head. He couldn’t help but smirk when he encountered Jisung a few minutes after having sex with you and seeing how flustered he was. Feigning innocence. Even saying he wasn’t even aware that the two of you were even home and that he was too busy playing games. Jaemin knew, and he also knew that having Jisung watch turned Jaemin on a lot more than he would have liked.

He’d been bouncing back and forth with the idea of him possibly joining the two of you some time. And while he struggles to find reasons why he shouldn’t, he sees how much much closer Jisung gets with you. Boundaries he sure as hell knows he’s crossing. To catch Jisung shamelessly checking you out, smirking each time you grin at him and at some point even picked you up and throwing the both of you into the pool. Jaemin bites the inside of his cheek when he sees how turned on Jisung was when you clutched onto him. Your boobs pressed into his chest, and if he even thinks to look down he might just get motorboated by them. Your legs wrapped around his waist, having to bite his lip in order to prevent a moan from falling out his mouth you grind on him. Your thin bikini causing friction on his shorts that now, have a large dent in them.

Finally one night, he pops the question to you.

“What do you think of Jisung?” He said as you were cuddled up this side. “Jisung? Well he seems lovely, very funny. Why?” “If I allowed him to have sex with you would you?” Eyes bulging, you sit up with a look of shock on your face. “What?” You laugh nervously. “Tell me not you’re aware that he has a massive crush on you, not even that he’s in love with you.” Your face begins to heat up at the sudden news, “What? Jisung no way. We’re just friends-“ “That’s how we started off.”

“Okay but that’s different.” “No it’s not, before we started going out the two of us couldn’t even get along because we liked you so much.” “..really?” Nodding he sits up and takes ahold of your hands. “He loves you just as much as I do.” He sends you a soft smile in which you return.

“Which is why…if I were to talk about let’s say a threesome?” Chuckling nervously, you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know..I mean Jisung is attractive and I would be lying if I said there hasn’t been some sort of tension when he gets close to me.”

“Ah so you were aware that he’s been getting a lot closer to you then?” He raises a brow at you. “Well yeah! I mean who wouldn’t?” Shaking his head he grins and leans in for a kiss in which you gladly give him. “My dirty little slut, I bet you wondered how he is in bed.” Seeing your cheeks reddening he scoffs and holds your jaw. “Would you like that mhm? To have him fuck that little pussy of yours?” Feeling a small moan escape your mouth you nod slightly. “Words baby you know I hate the silence.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I’d like him to fuck my little pussy.”

“Good.”

Jisung was sure Jaemin was fucking with him. There was no way the most possessive man on the planet was actually allowing him in on a threesome with him and you. The same man that had ‘accidentally’ sent him a sex tape of the two of you going at it like bunnies in a public bathroom. The same man that verbally told him upfront and proudly to him the day he fingered you in the movie theaters and how he you sucked him off during the ride home. With your consent of course.

Jaemin who made each every opportunity to rub it in the youngster’s face that no matter how much he wished, he wasn’t the one who’s dating you. And nonetheless the one making love to you very night.

“You’re messing with me right?” Jisung chuckles nervously at him.

But the serious look on Jaemin’s face was a clear give away that he was in fact not messing with him. “I know you spied on us having sex.” “W-What?” Rolling his eyes, Jaemin huffs and takes the seat in front of his band mate. “Look I already spoke to y/n and she’s on board.” “Really?” Jisung couldn’t prevent himself from getting a little too excited by the news. But to know you actually would be all for having sex with him made the fluttering feelings compile back up in his stomach. “Don’t look too excited.” His smile falters.

“I call the shots and just because I’m allowing you to spend a night with her doesn’t mean she’s yours. Got that?” Struggling to come up with an answer, Jaemin stands up and goes to make his way out. “Of course if that’s a problem for you then I can always get someone else to replace you-“

“No!” Falling back into his seat, he composes himself. “I’m..I got it. I’m in.” Jaemin smirks and nods, “alright, she’ll be here tomorrow. She likes creampies so don’t jerk yourself off before then.” And like that he’s gone. Jisung groans and falls into the comfort of his bed. He knew what he was doing by telling him that, it’s like he likes torturing him. And having that thought run in his head, imagining you full of his cum, god did that leave him with a painful erection for the rest of the night.

To say he wasn’t nervous would be a lie. He was, every night he wondered how it’d be like to have you so close to him. To feel every inch of you and love you like you have always been his. A part of him still thinks it’s all some fucked up prank but when the day finally comes and you arrive.

It didn’t take long to have him locked in Jaemin’s room with you in nothing but a very thin and revealing lingerie. And although Jaemin wasn’t kidding, he was on the other hand a big meanie. Forcing Jisung to do nothing but watch for the first fifteen minutes of you on your knees sucking him off. His large hand on your hair as he forced you to take every inch of him. Slightly choking but quick to level yourself. Immediate to start sucking him again. “Look how damn needy you are for me. What a fucking cock slut.” Jaemin hisses, forcing you to look up at him. Your mouth open, he spits into it and forced you back on his dick. When he notices your hand make it’s way down to your pussy, he laughs fakely. “You feeling excited baby? Love the idea of having someone watch you suck me off like a bitch in heat?”

Pulling you off him, he turns you around to face Jisung who sits there with a big dent in his pants. “You like having Jisung watch you act like a slut?” “So much!” You shriek out when you feel Jaemin beginning to rub your clit furiously. Squirming in his lap, he wraps his other arm to keep you sat on his lap. “Look at him, don’t you dare look elsewhere while I’m making you come on my fingers.” Hands on the arm chair are clenched tightly, your clit getting sensitive the more Jaemin continues to rub. “Tell him how good it feels.” He says in your ear.

“God it feels so good Jisung!” His hands currently gripping the bed sheets, he groans as he stared at you unfolding at the seams. Trying your hardest to not break eye contact but it’s very hard the closer your getting to your climax. “How bad do you want him?” Jaemin tells you. “I need him badly Jaem!” “What do you want from him?” A short scream escapes you when he suddenly forces three fingers into your cunt. Thrusting with no reason to slow down. “I want his dick Jaem! Please Jisungie I need to suck your cock!”

Jaemin laughs at your state, “My little cock slut.” He presses a tender kiss on your cheek. A complete stark contrast from the abuse he’s doing on your poor heat. “Let’s see, Jisungie are you gonna let her suck your cock?” He gulps and nods. Standing up slowly and making his way over to you. Watching as your moans getting louder. “I’m close! So close!” Jaemin slows down which causes you to whine, a loud slap is heard. A red hand print on your ass, “Undo his pants baby.” Obliging, you unbutton his jeans and proceed to tug them down. He helps you and when he’s finally released, he slightly hisses when the sudden cold air hits him. He’s rock hard, and has your mouth salivating. “Go ahead, suck.” Jeamin pushes your head down to his dick.

And you do. You rip a loud groan out of Jisung when you kick one long stripe up from the base to his tip. Puppy eyes you make, something you always do to Jaemin that always has him fucking your throat. Knowing he’d explode his entire load inside your mouth. And that’s exactly what you want from Jisung. “Look at her.” Jaemin tells him. And he does, his hand goes to softly stroke your cheek as you jerk him off and focus your kitten licks on his red angry tip. The sudden harsh smack on your ass has you squealing but they’re muffled when your mouth is too preoccupied with Jisung’s dick. The vibration feels great around him, so much he begins to softly thrust into your mouth. Not wanting to hurt you. “That’s it, keep sucking him.” You hear a zipper and soon ruffling. Jaemin was taking off his pants and so you lift yourself just the tiniest bit to help him. But you’re so focused on making Jisung feel good. Loving how blissful he looks, his head thrown back the more you bob your head. Purposefully gagging on him that you don’t hear Jaemin command you to sit back down on him.

So he takes the liberty to do it for you, but when he does. You don’t expect to sit down on his dick. Forcing himself deep into your abdomen, filling you up full. Your tight walls quick to wrap themselves around him. “Fuck! Pussy still too tight shit..” Jaemin grunts. He was right, since the two of you have been dating. You’ve had sex for well over a hundred times and still you stay to be nice and tight for him. Even on the days you cock warm him. “Bounce on it slut.”

Jisung’s chest was heaving the faster you sucked him. Looking down and seeing your pretty tits bounce along with your movements. To watch how you lose yourself on Jaemin’s cock. A sight for sore eyes. It’s all heavenly that he can’t hold it in much longer, “Close..” he’s barely able to let out. He’s shocked to see you made no effort to pull away from him and instead you kept hollowing your cheeks around him. Fondling with his balls until finally he shot his load in the back of your throat. Watching you as you swallowed all of it, wiping the part that slipped out of your mouth only to lick it clean. “Fuck..” Jisung can’t help but say out loud. He watched how you sit up and raise your arms to pull him closer. And when he lets you, his eyes widen when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a kiss. Tasting himself on your lips, a bit salty and yet it only made him hard again.

When he pulls away, Jaemin pulls you off his dick. “On the bed baby.” He slaps your bum once more before you do. “How about we show Jisung how loud you can truly get yeah?” He grins at the thought and pulls you at the edge of the bed. “Yes please!” Throwing your head back when he pushes himself back in again. You’re put back into Jaemin’s favorite position and as you look over at Jisung you notice it may just be his as well. Jaemin pushing your legs until they’re by your chest, pressing you together as it’s more leverage for him to fuck into you harder. Skin on skin clapping reverberates off the walls. The bed constantly getting fucked on its beginning to creak with every thrust made. Your moans won’t stop getting louder and suddenly feeling Jisung’s lips on yours is all too much for you to focus clearly.

By the time Jaemin rips an orgasm out of you, overstimulated and clearly sensitive he cares too little and instead demands Jisung to sit down on the chair he was previously sitting on. Carrying you up and placing you on his lap, “Bounce.”

When Jisung notices the tears beginning to spill he worries he had hurt you. About ready to call it all off but he stops when you start to repeat, over and over again like a mantra, “love your cock! Love it so much!” If he wasn’t so engulfed with pleasure at the moment then he would have grown shy about it. But he can’t think of anything other than your tight gummy walls. He looks down and groans upon the sight of your abdomen. The slight dent his tip creates the more you take him. And when you cling on him, tits in his face he can’t help but lean in and suck. Sucking until there’s a visible bruise, and before he knows it he doesn’t stop and that only gets you to fuck him harder. “Shit!” He yells out when you tighten around him. His mind growing fuzzy, he thinks he’s losing his conscious. He’s never felt this much pleasure before, nothing his hand could ever compete.

Suddenly, Jisung is no longer paying much mind to what Jaemin has to say. He picks you up and lays you on the bed. Ramming into you with passion and need. Unlike Jaemin, he’s fucking you to prove his undying love for you. Unfortunately this may be his only time to really show you how he’s feeling. And as much as he’s like to have sex with you for the fun of it, he has to take the opportunity to reveal his true feelings for you. Knowing he can never do that verbally.

Jaemin sees this but doesn’t interject. He’s made his intentions clear and he knows Jisung’s a good enough guy to not do anything to ruin what he has with you. So he sits back and watches how Jisung kisses your body with delicacy. Hands rubbing your skin and grinding himself in you making sure you feel all of him inside you. Leaving hickey after hickey. And when he lifts your leg and throws it over his shoulder. He pounds you until you’re seeing stars. Leaning closer to kiss you, losing himself to the taste of your lips as you cling onto him. Almost as if you need him to survive and that only feeds his love for you.

His hand falls down to find your clit. Loving the sound of your high pitched moans at the feeling of him rubbing furiously on your sensitive nub. Pressing soft kisses to your face, he leans towards your ear and whispers. “Come for me princess.” The pet name was new, and to have him so close, so deep. You lose yourself in his embrace. But you do more than just come.

Chest heaving rapidly and body shaking with the intense orgasm, you spill all over the comforter as Jisung continues to rub. You were squirting for him, and so much his dick was completely drenched in your essence. All of it was overwhelming, and before he knew it. He too was coming, and hard.

“Oh shit! Shit!” Along with Jaemin’s, he spurts his load inside you. Groaning when he looks down and sees both his and Jaemin’s load falling out of your fucked out hole. Feeling himself grow soft inside you, he whines by the sensitivity of his dick when he goes to pull out of you. You were too tired out, going in and out of a slumber but that wasn’t stopping Jaemin. Pushing the younger boy out of the way, he spreads your legs apart and dives right into your messy cunt.

“Fuck Jaemin!” You shake in ecstasy. “Please no more!” Slapping your thigh when you try to close your legs around his head. You hear his slurping bounce off the walls. Sucking and licking figure eights on your clit. And when he finally does let go of you, his chin glistens with yours and their essences.

The three of you try to catch each other’s breaths. “Shower time.” Jaemin simply tells you, feeling your pussy flutter at the meaning of that. Turning to face Jisung, he ignores the small look of hope that he may get invited.

“Alright thanks for coming, bye bye now.”

“But ! —“ slamming the door in his face, Jaemin turns to pick you up and over to the bathroom where he’d busy himself in fucking you all over again until you’re seeing white.

So maybe sharing you with Jisung wasn’t so bad after all.

He wonders if maybe allowing him to love you openly wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

After all, he does know how to fuck like a pro if he’s managed to get you to squirt for him.

#nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct smut #nct reactions #nct jisung #jisung nct #park jisung #jaemin scenarios #nct jaemin #jaemin x y/n #jaemin smut #nct jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Note

Don't know if you're taking prompts atm but...

Can't believe I'm asking this but could you do a ninth member fic but they're Nuna to Bangchan as well instead of younger? Just wanna see all the boys taken care of, maybe like made casual dinner with their favorite foods or soft comfort after a hard concert or something. Just the boys and OC being good family.

let noona handle it

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff, slight angst

content warnings: flirty minho? (haha)

word count: 1k

summary: after a difficult, chaotic concert, you prepare a feast to take care of your beloved dongsaengs

Thank you for this request! Hope you enjoy! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The concert you had just returned from was hell, and you hated to say that it was because of the fans. You nearly had a bit of deja vu, as the events that took place reflected those which happened at a past Indonesia concert. This time, you were in Seoul.

Fans had been constantly pushing each other back and forth, those who were standing scrambling amongst each other to get closer and closer to you and the boys. It was chaos.

"Guys, please! We want to do this concert but you have to move back!" Chan said into the mic, desperately hoping that the frantic Stays would listen.

"Move back, please," Han tried to help, using his hands to gesture them to do as he said.

"We don't want anyone to get hurt, please move back and we can carry on performing for you," Chan signed, and you saw how he was getting more and more frustrated.

You felt awful, that you didn't say anything to help. As their noona, you always wanted to look after your members, and you kicked yourself for not taking some of the weight off of your dongsaeng's shoulders, instead of standing there quietly. It wasn't your fault you felt overwhelmed though.

At least you weren't the only ones. As soon as you all returned to the dorms, wordless wishes of a good night's sleep was wished and you all fell asleep easily, the exhaustion hitting all 9 of you.

But you had other plans. Setting an alarm for 10am the next morning, you prepared yourself to get up early enough where the guys would still be asleep, but that you could go out, get fresh food, and prepare them with a feast for lunch time.

Yes, the shopping was very heavy, but it was worth it for the premium dining experience you had brought to the dorm. You were surprised they hadn't woken up yet from all of your clattering around and the smells of food, but it only made it far more worth it in anticipation of them seeing all of their favourite foods: sashimi, jokbal, yubochobap, kimchi jjigae, fried chicken, ramen with fried eggs, pizza. And of course for dessert you had some cheesecakes defrosting.

"Boys!!! Come in here!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, giggling to yourself when you heard the thumping of footsteps and mutterings of 'shit'.

"Noona?! Are you okay?" Changbin was the first to rush in, eyes zeroed in on you as he went to check if you were hurt or not.

"Wow..." Felix gasped, looking across at all of the food spread out on the dining table.

"I'm fine, Changbin, why don't you take a seat?" you soothed his worries, gently stroking his hands that rested upon your shoulders and diverting his attention to where you wanted it to be.

"Noona, did you-?" Hyunjin cut himself off as he entered the kitchen, feeling rather moved that you had done this all for them.

"It was a hard concert yesterday... I thought this would help cheer us up?" you awkwardly stood there, hands clasped behind your back. You felt your cheeks flush from their reactions, but they all stared on in amazement.

"You're the best," Jisung whispered as he engulfed you into a big hug. His arms wrapped around your waist and he buried his face into your neck.

"You all deserve it," you smiled bashfully, ruffling his hair as he pulled away, going to take a seat.

"You deserve it too, noona," Jeongin said earnestly, giving you a quick side hug before he went and sat down too.

"I just... I know yesterday was difficult, wasn't it?" you asked them all as you began talking once more. As you did so, Seungmin silently patted your back as he walked around you, his own way of letting you know he took was thankful. "So I thought what could be more healing then our favourite foods?"

"I think a kiss from noona would be healing as well," Minho bluntly said, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you facepalmed.

"Yah, Minho-ah! Don't tease her, she already can't handle all of the compliments," Chan scolded Minho before taking a seat too, gesturing you to sit next to him in the empty one.

"Noona is so good to us," Hyunjin said, almost as if you wasn't there and he was confessing his thoughts on you.

"I think noona should take the first bite," Changbin folded his arms, leant back in his chair with a proud smirk on his face as he looked at you approvingly. You could tell his mind was going 'jutdwae, jutdwae, jutdwae'. He was very proud of sticking to his principles.

"No, no, you guys eat first, I just want to see you be happy," you waved them off, arms resting in your lap. And it was true, you just wanted to see them eating happily.

"Come on, noona, we just wish to see you eat first," Jeongin pouted, and normally you'd cave straight away, your dongsaeng knew that, but you had a few principles of your own.

"Nope, I refuse. I wish to see all my precious members eat first. I want to see you happy because that's all that really matters to me, ok? We had a rough time of it yesterday and this is my way of showing you how I'm supporting you all. Yes I'm a member of this group just like any other one of us, but I'm also your noona, let me take care of things. Let noona handle it, ok?" you preached, rambling off all the thoughts in your head as looking them all directly in the eyes as you wore your heart on your sleeve.

"I'm going to eat before I cry," Felix took a mouthful of ramen, looking away from you, feeling warm from not only the food but from your sweet words too.

"There, we've all taken a bite now, noona should eat," Seungmin firmly said.

"Or do you need me to feed you?" Minho winked daringly.

"You're so flirty today," you take a bite of fried chicken, not giving him the opportunity to tease you more.

"He wouldn't be Minho if he wasn't flirty," Chan laughed.

"And noona wouldn't be noona if she wasn't so caring," Jisung heartwarmingly said.

"Well, speaking of, there's cheesecake for dessert," you smile as you take a bite of some sashimi.

"Noona you're the best!!!"

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member reader #skz 9th member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member

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skzdarlings · 1 year

Text

part vi: bodyguard!felix x reader

masterlist.

PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.

( READ ON AO3. )

Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending. (chapter word count; 9500 words)

Graduation approaches. There will be a ceremony in the afternoon then a dinner and dance, hosted in a hotel ballroom. It is nothing so luxurious as your father’s soirees, but it is a milestone that should be filled with meaning and memory.

You do not go.

You close this chapter of your life while vowing to never forget a moment of it. Jisung and Hyunjin both impacted your life for the better. Though you will not put them in danger by association, you hope they will find happiness. They will both be better in the long run.

You look at Felix and wish you could grant such a freedom to everyone.

You let yourself mope for a few days and Felix does not intervene, only checking in now and again to see if you need anything. You have not talked about what transpired between you, but that was to be expected even without any distractions.

He extends comfort in a platonic sense at best, more professional than ever with how he hovers in your periphery, ensuring you are safe but never crossing a line. He will embrace you when you have a nightmare, but he is much more stiff than he used to be. He does not touch you with his gentle caresses, only holds you with a perfunctory grasp. You think if this entire ordeal with Jisung had not happened, then he would have stopped altogether by now.

The night of the graduation, you sleep restlessly and wake in an emotional fit. You stare at Felix across the bed, your tumultuous emotions flickering between sadness, anger, and longing. You don’t know what to do, and it isn’t fair, and you want him so badly.

You dig your fist into the mattress and press your face into the pillow, fighting down a scream. Your shuffling wakes Felix who whispers your name. He moves closer then reaches the rest of the way, touching the back of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“No,” you say, muffled. You thump your fist against the mattress. “I hate you,” you say, because you don’t hate him at all. He’s all you have left yet it does not suffice to say there is only Felix, because even if you had a world of options you would still want him. He is singular in both charm and peculiarity. You do not hate him, but the threshold of the opposite looms with a terrifying danger for you both. What happened with Jisung would be miniscule in comparison to the consequences of this affair.

You know that, and yet.

You want to close this space for good. You want to throw caution to the wind and indulge your most romantic desires. You want him to want it too.

“Do you hate me?” you ask, turning your face but not meeting his eye.

“I—” He clears his throat. “I’m just… doing my job. I can’t have feelings one way or, uhh, another.”

“That’s not a no,” you say, lifting your gaze to his. He is propped up on one arm, staring down at you, blonde hair in a dishevelled mess around his face. His gaze drifts and you feel you are losing him. “Felix…” you say, imploringly.

“You have no idea,” he suddenly says, his tone almost vicious. “No idea… what it does to me when you—when you—when you look… at me… like that.” He falls onto his back and covers his face with both hands.

He always looks so skinny in his baggy sleep shirts, all sharp lines jutting out of the fabric. It completes his lie: the too-happy, naïve boy who is all smiles all the time, with nothing to see beyond the surface. No one would guess what he is capable of doing. Even you had not fully realized the breadth of his person until you witnessed it with your own eyes.

His mind seems to be following a similar path because he says, “You saw me kill someone.” He rubs his forehead like a migraine is settling there. “You shouldn’t look at me like you do. You shouldn’t—I don’t understand—how you’re not ever afraid—of him—of me—”

“I’m always afraid,” you whisper the admittance. You continue to look at him even while he stares up at the ceiling, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. “Just not of you,” you say.

He closes his eyes. He breathes out through his nose.

“You’re supposed to be,” he says. “That’s why I—that’s why I exist, yeah? I was raised to be this… thing. People are supposed to be afraid when they see who I am. Even your father is scared of me. And if he didn’t—if he didn’t have me on this—this fucking leash—” He sits upright, practically snarling as he speaks. Only experience in tempering his emotions brings him back down to calm, simply glaring across the room through the dark.

You wait to see if he will say more, your attention caught by what he let slip. Even your father is afraid of him, despite having him lashed to a tether of some kind. You want to know more, but you do not want to take what he does not willingly give, even though you know he will answer any question if you push. He made that promise a long time ago.

You are both almost nineteen. You have spent a quarter of your lives together. Those years, his present, and his future are all ensnared, and you cannot find it in yourself to forcibly rip his past away too.

You sit upright as well. He still does not look at you, gaze faraway. You twist the blankets in your lap, itching to reach out and smooth back a messy strand of his hair.

“You’re not just a thing to me,” you say.

“I know,” he says softly, still looking to the side. “Sometimes I wish I was just a thing.” He tips his head, staring into the distance as if he can see a memory playing out in the dark. “Sometimes I wish… it was that easy. That I could… put it all somewhere. Stop feeling. Stop being. That’s what I was supposed to be. If I could—if I did—I wouldn’t be here at all. But also…”

He trails off and his mind drifts. You tug at the blanket again.

“But also?” you ask.

His head turns to you, though his gaze is lowered, down to your fidgeting fingers.

“But…also…” he says. “I wouldn’t want that. If I had never… been someone. If I had never known…someone…”

He meets your gaze now. He has not looked at you with such direct intensity in days and it feels like basking in the sun after so much shadow. Your expression must return a similar ardor because his lips part with a deep exhale, his body instinctively tipping towards yours like it so often does. He maintains enough mental faculty not to fall all the way, holding himself back, only looking at your face. He lingers on your mouth.

“I understand,” you say, tingling with the effect of his gaze, tangible as a kiss.

“Yeah?” he says, his voice rough.

You feel a bit fuzzy, distracted with the energy between you. You only loosely cling to your own train of thought but you manage to say, “Yes. Making sense of the good in the bad. Both shaping who you are. The people you know… changing you for the better.”

“Jisung,” Felix says, ruminating on your words. Then a flicker of displeasure creases his brow as a thought occurs to him. “Hyunjin,” he says. “They were both… part of your good.”

“Yes,” you say, watching him pull away into his own mind.

“You liked Hyunjin a lot,” Felix says, clearing his throat. “I didn’t—I wasn’t sure—”

You roll your eyes even while a smile breaks onto your face. There is something so charmingly childish about the clear jealously that is suddenly plaguing him. It isn’t dangerous dramatics or dark pasts – just one boy glaring at the recollection of you dating another boy.

You push the blankets off your lap and move so you are kneeling at his side. He looks away but that is fine, because you tuck his hair behind his ear and lean in to whisper, “I didn’t like Hyunjin half as much as I hate you.”

He clenches his jaw. His shoulder twitches with a little shiver. A smile tugs at his lips.

“Oh,” he says. “All right.”

“All right,” you repeat in a mockingly deep voice. “That’s his reply – all right. This is why I hate you.”

“Mmm?” He tips his head, smiling at you. “Is it?”

You feel flushed. You sit back again, poking at the covers. “Among other things,” you say.

He laughs but tries not to, the result a very low chuckle that he unsuccessfully tries to hide behind his hand. You shove his shoulder. He sways dramatically like it was a hard hit. He is still chuckling when you lay back down, arms stubbornly crossed.

He lays on his side and props his head in his hand. There is space between you but you can touch his face with a simple stretch. You trace your fingertips down his jaw and it smooths out his laughter, expression softer. Your heart is thundering when you touch his lips, just a light touch. It should be inconsequential when you consider what you have already done, but it feels substantial as anything else. You wonder if this sensation will ever lessen.

He takes your wrist and moves your hand, his breath fluttering over your fingertips. He swallows hard.

“I’m a bad person,” he says. “I’m not supposed to care about being bad. But I do.”

“You’re not a bad person,” you say. “Because of the things they make you do? How can you say that?” From the moment he walked into your life, Felix has done everything in his limited power to provide relief. You did not always appreciate it, but it did not stop his efforts.

“I am,” he says. “I’m selfish. I let myself forget… so many things… when you look at me.” He lays down on his back, curling one arm under his head. “You know, I’ve been trained to withstand torture,” he says, casually despite the ripple of horror that moves through you. “But they didn’t prepare me for, uhh, you doing that… thing with your eyelashes, when you want something. Or when you, you know, stick out your lip like this—”

He pouts and it makes you laugh despite everything.

“I don’t do that,” is all you can say.

“Sure,” he says, with a little smile and eye-roll. “It’s more effective than a bullet. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Duly noted,” you say dryly. “You know for such a well-trained whatever-you-are, you just made a pretty dumb mistake.”

“Oh?”

You roll onto your front so the lengths of your bodies are pressing along the side. You rest your chin in the cup of your hand and smile your most innocent smile.

“Yes,” you say. “It isn’t very smart to tell an enemy your weaknesses like that.”

“My enemy,” he says like the word amuses him, corners of his lips ticked up. He moves quickly, leaning into your space so surely that you can feel his breath fan your lips. “Is that what you are, then? My job. My enemy.” He laughs the word, then whispers with a teasing smirk, “And my sweetheart.”

“Sworn enemies,” you somehow manage without even a stutter. You take his teasing further and say, “You can even tell my daddy. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“That isn’t a joke,” he says, tone serious though his soft expression betrays him.

“Who’s joking?” you say. “We’re just two enemies, sharing a bed. I hate you, and you—”

“Yes?” He has a cocky look on his face, playful as it is. “What do I do?”

You narrow your eyes in a theatrical glare, then you just smile.

“You...” Your voice comes softly, your knuckles brushing his jaw. “You know what it feels like to be inside me.”

Your heart thumps erratically at his drastic shift in expression, the laughter replaced with shock then obvious vexation, dark eyes slanting in warning. You just smile like it is of no concern to you at all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur. “I’m just saying. Sweetheart.”

You roll away, leaving space between you again. You wriggle your hips more than necessary and your shirt predictably rucks up, your shorts similarly loose and high around your thighs.

Your heart is still racing even though you got the last word in. You breathe to centre yourself.

Then he grabs you by the neck and tugs you back across the bed. It is a showy demonstration but a gasp bursts past your lips, your hand instinctively clutching his sturdy hand. It is your turn to be beyond surprised when he presses right up against you from behind.

“Don’t play games that have no winner,” he speaks into your ear.

“Who’s playing?” you reply, grinding back against him.

He exhales, an exasperated sound that has you giggling. You yelp when he rolls you onto your front, all but planting your face in a pillow before abruptly letting you go. You lift your head as he swings out of the bed.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“The bathroom,” he says. “Don’t try to leave or I’ll tell your father, yeah?”

He is grinning with his victorious retreat. His alleged training is good enough that he dodges the pillow you chuck at his head.

Your father returns home the next day. He never had any intention of attending your graduation, agreeing with his own late father’s assertion that a high school graduation was a juvenile joke celebrating mediocrity.

Felix already reported that you did not attend so there is nothing more to say on the matter. The subject of graduation merely broaches the topic of post-secondary education. He calls you into his office and presents you with a folder detailing the next step of your education. You will attend his alma mater, a prestigious university that did not require your application as he most certainly just paid for your admittance.

“And,” he says, “I am generously giving you one more opportunity to prove you are not the unfledged adolescent you have insisted on presenting.”

This opportunity is online summer classes to pre-emptively advance your position in the program. As if it matters where you rank in the scheme of things; your life set in stone.

“Fine,” is all you say. The wounds from the incident with Jisung are still fresh so you do not have an argument inside you. It would just be for the sake of itself anyway, as it is not like you have anything better to do with your summer.

You still complain to Felix. You find him in the gym, working up a sweat. A captive audience for your lengthy complaint session.

He runs a self-made obstacle course while you inexpertly pummel a punching bag to let out your frustrations. Eventually he takes a water break and wanders over to you. You crinkle your nose and pretend to be disgusted with his appearance, but in actuality a hot, sweaty Felix reminds you of that cramped car and all the heat between you.

He tips his head back and drinks his water and your eyes follow a drop of sweat as it licks down his neck. You look away when he stops drinking, when he swipes a hand across his forehead.

“Careful,” he says. “You should tape your hands first, yeah? You’ll hurt yourself.”

You slap the punching bag and smirk when he frowns at you.

“Not funny,” he says, and takes your hand to inspect it. He is smiling despite his words. When he catches your eye, he tries to quell it, but his gaze is tender as his touch when he massages your hand. “Just remembering,” he mumbles. “First night here. You and that… what was it? Eggplant?” He shakes his head. “I was, uhhh, not prepared.” He laughs. “I clearly didn’t know what I was getting into.”

“Yes, I’m sure I came across as a very intimidating adversary,” you say dryly.

“Yes.” He laughs, a sharp breath. His eyes flick up to you. “Like no one I’d ever met before.”

You feel bashful under his gaze. You look down at where he is rubbing your hand, so very careful with the amount pressure he applies. It is still hard to reconcile this soft-touched boy with the violence that has evidently puppetted him for all his life. It seems impossible that he could be a cog in that machine, not with hands like this, not with a touch so delicate in its gentle offer of solace.

He mentioned being trained to withstand torture, a training he must have received very young because you met him at fourteen as a fully formed soldier ready to follow orders. To this day, you remember his unblinking neutrality as he pressed the tip of that blade into the back of his hand. Yet now he holds your hand with such loving attention, so much humanity in his affection for someone else, even where people apparently tried to scrub it out of him.

It is too much to think about right now. You pull your hand away and don a faux-haughty air, flicking your wrist at him, fingers wiggling.

“Kiss it better,” you say with a supercilious tone. “Or I’ll tell my dad you let me get injured.”

He blinks at you, maybe perplexed with the sudden shift in tone, but then he just laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Mmm. Right,” he says. But he checks the door is empty then takes your hand. You realize this is a stupid ploy because it backfires the moment his lips brush your knuckles. He looks up at you, his soft bottom lip resting on your skin. Then he straightens, pats your hand, and smiles an annoyingly perfect, professional smile. “There,” he says. “Job well done?”

“As always,” you say, unsteady.

He breaks the tension by stepping away to fetch a towel. He dries his sweaty neck while asking more about your meeting with your father. You start complaining all over again, giving the punching bag another good slap. You rant about his usual tyrannical nonsense, but also complain about the graduation affair.

“They’re usually a big deal, yeah?” Felix asks. He is doing some cool-down exercises and you try to not to stare at him. “Why didn’t he want to go again?”

“Some stupid bullshit he parroted from his father, because he’s never had an original thought in his life,” you say. “It is a celebration of mediocrity. I will only attend your graduation from a valuable institution with an education that has been obtained through true work. As if he’s not paying to get me into university, and as if I won’t be walking out of there with a degree even if I sleep through every exam.”

Felix laughs in a humourless, distracted way. You look over and watch as he swings his water bottle up and catches it again.

“His father, huh?” he says. He shakes the water, absent-minded in his distraction. He walks backwards then takes a seat against the wall where he looks at you again. “This, uhhh, this everything in the family goes back far, huh?”

“Old money,” you say with an eye roll. You cross the room to join him on the floor. “Far enough.”

“Did you know him?”

“Who? My grandfather?” You slide down the wall and sit beside Felix, your shoulders touching. “Yeah, I mean, he died when I was about ten or eleven. You know him too.”

Felix looks at you in bewilderment and you laugh.

“He was the same as my father is now,” you explain. “If you know one, then you know the other.”

“That must have been…” Felix searches for the word but there is very little to sufficiently summarize that household.

“Yeah,” you say with a snort. “It was.” Your grandfather was a tyrant as sure as your father is now. You cannot say if he was worse, being so young when he ruled this household, but you remember he occupied the same untouchable sphere of power. Your grandfather looms in your memory as a grim figure as dark and intimidating as Mister Miroh. He was on the offense at all times, ambitious and striking out at whim. Your father, perhaps in response to his own father’s iron fist, has always acted on the defense, holed up in his castle and building his walls high to seal in everything of value. He attacks in retaliation or proactive defense.

Neither ever permitted being contradicted or disobeyed.

“I see,” Felix says. He looks like he wants to say more, brow still furrowed in contemplation, but then he just sighs and rests his head against the wall. “Are you sad about your graduation?”

“I just hope Hyunjin looked out for Jisung. He’s all I’m sad about.” Picturing your best friend in a corner of a ballroom with no one paying him any attention is too devastating to think about for long, especially knowing about his home life and how alone he felt before you.

You take a steadying breath.

“He just deserved better,” you say.

“So do you,” Felix says, only just above a whisper. He pats your knee and you react predictably, all your nerves alight beneath his hand.

But he does not linger long enough for that warmth to spread. You are not alone, after all. There are footfalls overhead and your father is tucked away in his office.

That night you have a bad dream. It is nothing so terrifying as a nightmare, featuring no guns or tyrant patriarchs. It is just a miserable dream.

You are at your graduation, wearing one of your many evening gowns. There is nothing so special about dressing up given your forced lifestyle, but the party is not about the gown or a date or anything else. You are looking for your friend. That is all you want, but you can’t find Jisung anywhere. You turn many corners, passing through the lengthy shadows of hotel hallways and school corridors, but there is an eerie emptiness to all of it. Finally you find a door, beaten and weathered. You step through knowing there is nothing fancy waiting on the other side of it.

You find yourself on the roof of a ramshackle house. Jisung is perched on the edge, dressed up in a blazer and tie but with his signature backwards cap. He is gazing up at the stars. You sit beside him, filled with so many things you want to say and yet nothing comes out. Time feels warped in your dream and you feel like you sit there for days, months, years, the sky dark, the world quiet.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say.

It feels unreasonable to ask for forgiveness, even if you did not willingly abandon him. You still feel the ache of guilt for having roped him into your life in the first place, but you feel especially guilty for not regretting those years. You do not want to live in a world where you never met him. To have never been someone, to have never known someone.

You know he feels the same way. He said as much during your goodbye.

In the quiet, he hugs you, wrapped up comfortably like that last night at his house.

Somehow that is the moment you become aware it is just a dream, that this is your own mind consoling you, but it is meaningful that your subconscious summons your best friend for that much-needed hug of reassurance.

It seems ridiculous that you, of all people, should think they have the best understanding of love, but perhaps it is the long absence of it that allows you to recognize when you have it. You have witnessed every elaborate gift and gesture in the world, but you are quite certain there is no grander demonstration of love than someone holding you for an hour with no other motive than to simply be there, seeing and being seen.

When you wake, it is with such an ache that you find yourself clutching your chest. Your uneven breathing wakes Felix. The moment he touches your shoulder, you roll into his arms and let yourself cry. He doesn’t ask what it is about, drawing any number of conclusions, but he holds you until your tears turn to sniffles then stop altogether.

You get drowsy in his arms. When he thinks you are asleep, he tries to lay you down on your side of the bed, but you are conscious enough to stir and cling to him. He laughs under his breath.

“Full house,” he whispers. “You need to sleep over there.”

You look at him morosely, blinking back tears. He sighs, letting his head droop, then he gives you a pointed look. You are surprised when he flicks his thumb over your bottom lip, drawing attention to the fact you are pouting.

“Told you,” he whispers.

“Hmmph.”

He rolls away but you follow, wrapping around him like a clingy koala bear. He chuckles and shakes his head, but lays on his back and allows you to rest your head on his chest. You nuzzle under his chin, hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. He rests a hand over yours. When he breathes, you watch the rise and fall of those hands.

It is a comforting embrace. This bed has often felt like a world away from reality. You stare at those hands, his kind touch. You cuddle closer, secure with the weight of his arm around you.

It sets your brain in motion, compiling these feelings with everything he has told you and everything he has done.

Before you can stop yourself, before the insanity of such a statement dawns, you say, “Do you think we could make it if we ran away together?”

He goes very still, even his breath slowing. His heart beats a steady staccato under your hand.

“Felix,” you whisper.

“No,” he says, sharply, like the instinctive hiss of pain when unexpectedly struck. He shakes his head, coming back to himself. “No,” he says again, softer. His voice breaks as he lowers it to a whisper. “No, I’m sorry—I’m—I told you—you know it’s not that simple—”

You know he’s right. Felix is obviously very competent but he is still just one man, and your father would not let you slip through his fingers so easily. This is disregarding all the technical logistics of running away, like money and food and a place to sleep.

But a little cabin flashes across your mind and your argumentative side rears itself even though you know better.

“Maybe it is that simple,” you say. “He’s just one man—”

“He’s not just one man,” Felix says, sitting up. You slip through his arms, laying back and watching as he pushes a hand through his hair. “He is his business, and his… his world… and all the men like him…”

“And our lives?” you say. You sit up and put your hand on his back. “You said I deserved better but so do you. You aren’t selfish just because— Stop shaking your head—”

He does but he still looks away, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“It’s not—” He chokes on the word, swallows, then speaks again softly, “It’s not just my life.” He stares across the room, as if once more ensorcelled by some memory playing in the shadows. “Life,” he says, “in pieces and only for a little bit. I always remembered that, you know. That’s how you described it. That’s what I have. Being here. It’s more than—more than what I deserve. And what I—what I get—is a life worth more than mine—”

“Stop saying things like that,” you say miserably. You reach for his face but he turns away. “Do you have any idea,” you say with as much as emotion as you can fit in a whisper, “any idea how much my life has changed because of you, because of the way you are… Felix, you’re part of the good too.”

“You can’t—you can’t say things like that to me—”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll start to believe you.”

You touch his face and he lets you this time, eyes lifting to yours as you guide his face up. Your thumb brushes that dark constellation of freckles, your eyes searching the face you have woken to every morning for years now – the brown eyes, the dark brows, the wisps of blonde that dash across his forehead. Your thumb brushes the groove to his upper lip, then the bow of his lower lip.

You cup his jaw and tip your head, hoping your gaze reveals the words you cannot conjure. The walls close in around you again. All those nonsensical ideas make their escape, leaving you in the dark with him.

He holds your gaze, his consternation fading to a different sort of ache. Longing carves itself in his features, the disconsolate but nonetheless ardent hunger of someone starving at a table they cannot eat from. He lays his hand over yours, holding it against his face. Eventually he lowers it.

“I didn’t count them,” he says.

“What?” You blink to attention, confused by the seeming subject change. “Count what?”

“The, uhh…” His laugh is dry. He clenches his jaw and looks down at where he is holding your hand. “The people. The people I killed.” He keeps his gaze low, watching as he strokes his thumb across your knuckles. “Others counted them but I—I dunno… I didn’t need to. It comes back to me sometimes, yeah. Hair colours. Clothes. Last words. I didn’t need to… to write it down, to keep track. I just remembered. I still remember.”

Even before you saw him in action, you knew killing was in his past. It still feels different to have those suspicions confirmed, that there was that much violence in his youth, but you are not upset for the reasons he must think. You are only more sympathetic, curling your fingers around his and squeezing.

He won’t look at you.

“Felix,” you say. “You were a kid, and I don’t know where you were, I don’t know what they did to you, but that’s not your fault—”

“I was good at it,” he says. “I was the best. I thought I knew what I was, why I existed. Then things changed. Now I’m not that. I’m not anything else either. I have no right to be, yeah? Do you understand? I can’t walk away. It’s all in me and there’s nowhere to put it down. All I can do is this—this one thing. And honestly, I don’t even know if it is the right thing. I just know that if I go with you, that feels selfish. If I stay here, if I—I keep you trapped here because of me—that’s selfish too—”

“I’m not trapped because of you,” you say. “I would be here either way. If it wasn’t you here with me, it would just be someone else.” So I’m glad it’s you, you want to say, with no obfuscation and no exaggeration.

He interrupts, “I killed your grandfather.”

It is so unexpected that you freeze. You cannot help the way you lock up when truly startled, even if the fright is only momentary. Your body shuts down to protect itself.

Felix withdraws his hand immediately, sensing your coldness. You come back to yourself and look at him, though he still avoids your gaze.

“What?” you eventually manage. “You—”

“He was the target,” Felix says. “They tried to kill him before. Tried, and failed. There were casualties. Like your… like your mother.”

You look away too, chronicling everything he is describing. Your mother died when you were still in infancy and you were never told much more than that. You always thought it might have contributed to your father’s obsessive protection efforts, at least in part, but you could never be sure.

“He was…” Felix says. “He was like a monster, to me, growing up, like a… like a ghost story or something. They told us stories about him and men like him. About how some were so… so powerful… and couldn’t be killed by a regular person… Everything I did—all the killing—was—was justified to me, yeah? And he was the worst of all. And if we could get rid of him, then… then all the other bad would go away too.”

“But it didn’t,” you say, remembering the infallible creature of a man that was your grandfather, the same but different to your father. Things changed when he died, in a way. Your father’s defensive operations are contrary to the offensive strategy of your grandfather, but no less intense in application. You can see how an enemy might have looked at your father, a frightened man always on the defensive, standing in your grandfather’s shadows. You can see how they might have thought the empire might crumble without the iron fist ruling it.

“But it didn’t,” Felix says.

You have questions, so many questions. Was it all Miroh? What happened next? How did Felix end up here? Why does he stay? A million questions fly through your mind. The only one you manage to vocalize is, “Does my father know?”

Felix shakes his head.

The rest of your questions evaporate into nothing. Only a breath passes your lips. Felix is bent over, elbows on knees, shoulders hunched. He is staring at the ground.

“Felix,” you say, reaching for him. “Felix, I don’t blame you for anything.”

Grandfather, father, it’s all the same poison sloshing from the same spoiled glass. You would be here either way, only without Felix, his voice and his hands, his heartbeat under your palm. You cannot imagine the bleakness of that loneliness.

You lay a hand on Felix’s shoulder, wanting to say all this and more but at a complete loss for words.

There is a moment of quiet, then he says, “All this time.” It is barely more than a murmur, face still downturned. “You were right here. And they didn’t care, so I didn’t see you. I didn’t even look.”

You cup his face once more, guiding him upright. He comes without a fight but takes his time, like it is agony to meet your gaze. When those dark eyes locked with yours, a shaking breath leaves his lips, that aching expression returned to his face. You do not know what your own face is doing, all your masks fallen away, leaving something open and raw, wounded but wanting. You swipe your thumb over his cheek, the high point where his freckles cluster darkly, sweeping down to where they dim.

“You’re looking now,” you say.

You slide your hand around his head, into his hair, fingertips fluttering over his nape. He shivers and tips his head, naturally leaning into your touch. You remember seeing the scars that litter his chest, remember feeling the cuts on his back from your own father’s beatings. You remember all the nights he has held you. You remember every little tidbit of your life he has tried to rescue and give back to you despite his precarious position.

You are both in a terrible situation without the tools to truly navigate your way out. There are no rules for a situation like this, every choice a dangerous one. The only thing you know for certain is you are not alone.

“I’m afraid,” you say, “but I’m not afraid of you.”

He gazes at you for a long, thoughtful moment, then reaches to touch your face. Just his thumb, tracing from temple to chin. The tremble of his touch reveals more fear than his faint smile, all of it bound tightly in the tension that holds him together, the carefully restrained yearning for something bigger than this moment.

“Yeah, but I’m afraid of you,” he says on a breath of a laugh.

“Right,” you say, infused with all the light-hearted sarcasm as you can muster. “That’s me,” you say. “Scariest of them all.”

“You have no idea,” he says, still so sincerely. It is your turn to shiver, leaning into his touch as his thumb circles your chin. He smiles again, not his exaggerated toothy grins but a sweet, fond smile. “My job. My enemy.” His thumb presses on your mouth, gently parting your lips. A breath escapes with the race of your heart. “My sweetheart.”

“You’re just being mean now,” you say. “I hate you so much.” You hold the back of his neck and tug him close to you. Your noses brush, his breath colliding with yours. A simmering warmth is tingling under every inch of your skin, gathering hotly in intimate places. You scratch up the nape of his neck and he swallows hard.

“A kiss,” he says, a rough whisper. “Just one kiss. It’s too—we can’t—”

“One kiss,” you say, brushing noses again. “For now.”

His soft laugh warms you even before your lips touch. And a touch is all it is, lacking all the rushed dramatics of your first collision. Even though you’re not truly alone, even though danger encircles this room like a poisonous fog, this little world away from everything feels momentarily invulnerable.

You let your eyes close, surrendering to the gentle give-and-take of it all. You wonder what makes a kiss so addicting, and you wonder how you went this long abstaining, and you wonder how you could ever hope to go without it again.

You run your hands into his hair and pull his face close. He sinks into the kiss, sharing a gasp before kissing you again.

You feel dizzy with breathlessness but you don’t stop. You shiver when he cups your neck to control the movement of your head. Your excitement has you bobbing forward, but he holds you and gently tips your head, then he kisses you with a long, hot pull. When his tongue brushes your lips, you make a little noise and he very softly squeezes your neck, the only place he is touching, in warning. This only tempts another sound but you restrain yourself, if only just barely.

The kiss ends with a gasping breath. You rest your forehead against his for a long moment. Then you open your eyes only to close them when he descends, kissing your nose, your eyelids, your cheeks. His sigh feathers against your lips.

“More effective than a bullet,” he murmurs.

Surely, it is meant to be joking, sweet, flirtatious. But he looks at you with that deep-set longing. He draws his thumb from your temple to chin again. He tilts your head to kiss your cheek, closing his eyes like that innocent press is the greatest pleasure of his life. Your cheek still tingles when he pulls away.

He smiles then nods towards the top of the bed. Your heart skips a beat, but then he says, “Sleep now. No more bad dreams tonight, yeah?”

You feel tipsy, breathless still, so you don’t argue. You also do not look away from him. Your eyes are locked as you slide to your side of the bed and pull back the covers. He sits on the end, watching you. Eventually he lays down and looks at the ceiling, scrubbing a hand over his forehead. His mind is so clearly going a mile a minute.

“Don’t worry,” you say with a wave of your hand. “I still hate you.”

He shoves his tongue into his cheek to hold back the laugh, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You just smile, then shrug, then turn your back to him for the night.

The summer passes in euphoric bursts and tiny agonies. There are days you and Felix are alone in the house, days when a calm settles between you even if all you do is sleep entangled, and there are days your father looms with all his threat and power, when Felix sensibly withdraws and you ache with the need for an intimacy that keeps you sane and human.

Felix is clearly torn between his own desires and the duty he has assigned himself. It is also apparent that he is still struggling to consider himself worthy of honest affection. You can see it in the way he stands, the way he looks at you, the way his shoulders tense when you so much as brush his shoulder. You have laid in his arms more than once, your faces so close that you are almost kissing. You run your fingers through his hair until the tension leaves his body and he lets himself slant towards you.

Please come to me, stay with me, you think.

This is another one of those things that cannot coast on accidents, on fleeting moments of lustful tension that would ultimately fizzle if not for the emotional strength propelling them. It is in that emotional undercurrent you must plant yourself deliberately if you want to feel anything, if you want to heal, and if you truly, completely want him.

Maybe you cannot leave, maybe that kind of rescue is impossible, but you form a haven of sorts between yourselves. You try to find the words to tell him he’s a person, that you want to be a person for him, a body under his hands and a heartbeat in the dark, but you can never find the right thing to say to fully liberate you from the cage closed around that room. The words touch your tongue and burn and suddenly you see every nightmare in front of you, every reminder of why this is dangerous. So you turn your back and say you hate him, even while a kiss on the shoulder is enough to fully unravel you.

The summer is busy, a popular season for parties and events, some your father hosts and some you are invited to attend. He drags you from place to place, with the rest of your spare time filled with advanced course work. It is a distraction if nothing else.

At the end of summer, your father calls you into his home office. It could be for a lecture, a demand, an argument he is itching to start. You do not know but you appear when summoned.

Felix is already there, sitting straight-backed in a small chair across from your father’s desk. There is an empty seat beside him.

He turns his head and looks at you, reminding you of the first moment you ever saw him. Some things are the same, but most things are different. You realize how much older he looks. He is still slender, still clean-shaven, still very pretty, but he is not a child anymore. He does not look ridiculous in his black blazer and tie, a holster under his jacket, a competent professional with a job to do. Uniforms used to make him look even younger, his face too wide and sweet for such a grown-up ensemble. He looked like a little boy playing dress-up.

He is not a little boy anymore. You look into his face as you approach, your eyes locked. His hair is long enough to tie into a little stub of a ponytail. You ran your fingers through that hair this morning, fluffing the soft ends, making him smile. You have kissed that pink bow of mouth, both roughly and softly. You know what he sounds like when overcome with pleasure.

You met years ago, two peculiar children with so much humanity beaten out of you. You realize just how much has grown back thanks to the slow but tender cultivation of your relationship.

It seemed like an impossible thought at the time. Now it seems like it was inevitable.

You take the empty seat beside him. You both look at your father. His hands are steepled on his desk, his attention rapt as it often is when meting out punishment. His smile is not encouraging to the contrary, as he will sometimes smile when administering his reprimands.

But then he says, “Congratulations, I am pleased.”

He shows you the transcript for your summer courses. Your grades are more than halfway decent despite your tumultuous year.

“You’ve worked hard to win back my favour,” he says. It is the kind of comment that would usually trigger your frustration, prompting a quick rebuttal that would quickly escalate. But you temper yourself, curling your fists in your lap. You force yourself to ignore his bating, to listen with as stoic a face as you can muster. Your father smiles, though it is strained. “In my persistent generosity, I have decided to reward this behaviour in the hopes of encouraging it will continue.”

He slides a folder across the desk, every encounter a business meeting when it isn’t a brawl. You take the folder and read through it, the frustration leaving your body as it is replaced with confusion then the vaguest flicker of hope.

“We are substantially removed from the university campus,” your father says. “I have decided that for the sake of convenience and your continued academic success that it would be more prudent to move you closer to the university until your degree is completed in a timely manner.”

“Move,” you say, trying to keep your voice level despite the fact it feels like your heart is trying to leap into your throat. “All of us? What about the house?”

“Just you,” he says. “And Felix, of course, to supervise you. The penthouse is secured with a high security system, not to mention armed doormen and a plethora of staff throughout the building. Between that and your bodyguard, you should be secure and thus able to complete your studies without any obstruction.” He thumps a hand on his desk, making you jump. “And I expect your grades to reflect that.”

You nod vigorously, staring down at the real estate listing of the penthouse apartment. You have only just begun to picture the possibilities of an uninterrupted life, however brief the interim, when your father speaks again.

“Felix,” he says. “You know what I expect of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Felix says with a curt nod.

“I will have it on record now,” your father says to you, “that I give Felix complete and full control of this arrangement. You will do what he says when he says it. I also grant him permission to use his own discretion to determine when and how to discipline you if you step out of line.”

“Oh,” you say, too stunned to add more.

“If he reports that you are making things difficult in any capacity—”

“I won’t,” you say. “I’ve been good all summer!”

Other than last night when you snuggled up to Felix and started kissing his neck. It was chaste, a momentary touch, but then a sweet, low sound rumbled in his throat. Naturally, you did it again, then once more, your lips a little wetter and more open each time. He eventually had to pry you off him with a warning look, but he could not fully stamp down his smile when you giggled at him.

“Felix,” your father says, disregarding your retort. “You have my permission to do what you must to keep her in line.”

“Yes, sir,” Felix says, dropping his head in a respectful bow.

“So what do I have to do get disciplined around here?”

“Stop,” Felix says, even while obviously amused, a smile tugging at his lips. “They’re still here.”

You giggle and look over his shoulder where your father’s men are moving the last few things into the apartment. One of them collects Felix to show him the workings of the security system, which Felix quickly learns with his all technological skills.

You play the part of demure daughter, quietly moving from room to room as your father’s men assemble your life according to his directions. You did not get to organize much of anything, but you don’t care. A wall is a wall, a bed a bed. But these walls offer privacy. That bed is a new haven.

It is just you and Felix.

Eventually the men leave, one by one. The move began in the morning, but it is late evening by the time Felix closes the door on the last departure. You wait while he does his security check, in the sitting area, standing at the floor-to-ceiling window that boasts a beautiful city skyline view. The outside of the window is a mirror, concealing your privacy, but you get to enjoy the twinkling city lights, the bustling world below that offers so much possibility. It is very different than your view back home, of a perfectly manicured and perfectly stagnant garden, the mansion isolated on a hill with no other souls for miles.

You remember your first night alone with Felix, how empty that house felt. Now when Felix joins you, the apartment feels full. It is brimming with life.

You look at him as he turns on a lamp, brightening the dim room with a cozy golden glow. The whole room feels warm. It is not eerie and empty like that house. You were living in a mausoleum of wealth, rotting away with distractions and half-living in what little remained. You feel golden and alive, now, here, with him.

He clears his throat. He was staring back at you, his regard as intense as yours. He turns aside now, peeling off his uniform blazer. He starts talking about dinner, suggestions for this and that, something about school, about going to campus tomorrow and finding your way around. A hundred topics, more distractions.

You say nothing so he continues to fill the silence with empty chatter. He uses his friendliest voice, though your thoughts are not merely friendly when you watch him unholster his gun, when he fiddles with the harness around his chest and pulls it free. He puts everything on the coffee table and sits on the couch, pretending to be very occupied with organizing it. He checks his gun as if something could be wrong with it, nimble fingers flicking through its mechanisms as he checks its assembly.

You sit beside him on the couch, watching him fiddle with it.

He says something about something. Asks a question, maybe. He is not really looking for an answer. You think his heart might be beating just as fast as yours, even though his hands are steady and his gaze is resolute.

“It doesn’t really matter what I want,” you say in a voice, sighing dramatically. “My dad says you’re in charge of me anyway, right?”

He clips the gun shut and puts it on the table. He looks at it for a minute, then exhales.

“Are we doing that now?” he asks dryly.

“I dunno, are we?” you ask, shuffling a little closer to him. He looks at you sideways then shakes his head. He puts his hands on his knees and strums his fingers. “Are you saying I can do what I want?” you ask.

“Uhh, that depends,” he says. Another strum. “What do you want?”

“A kiss.”

He looks at you, those dark eyes narrowed, his expression one of warning.

“Just one,” you say, batting the eyelashes that are apparently more persuasive than torture. He swallows and you smile. “Just one is fine, right?”

“You said just one a few times ago now,” he says dryly.

“No, you said that,” you say with an innocent smile. “I said just one for now. But now I’m saying just one, because I’m going to be a good girl.”

“Oh.” He looks amused now, nodding. “Are you? Really? Wow.”

“No sarcasm required, thank you,” you say. “I’m trying to avoid being disciplined, after all.”

His mouth draws into a thin line. He looks away and cracks his knuckles distractedly.

“Just one,” he finally says.

“Yes.” You nod and smile sweetly. “Just one.”

That one kiss lasts forty minutes. First you are side by side on the couch, the blue evening night outside the window colliding with the golden glow within. That blue light fades to black before long, but that golden warmth stays glowing. Heat similarly rises between you, soft pecks against soft lips turning to open-mouthed kisses that beg and satisfy with each deep touch.

He holds your face in both his hands when you tremble, keeping you steady, letting you melt into him. He moves when you tug at his shoulders, mutely imploring as you lay back on the couch, though he holds himself well above you, maintaining distance.

When his arms get tired, he lays back. He lets you crawl on top of him, and sighs, giving in, holding the back of your neck as you wrap your arms around him. You kiss again, wet and hot and hungry, losing time and sense.

You kiss until it shows, when his whole mouth is pink and his skin is flushed and he can barely keep his eyes open with the dreamy intoxication of it all. You are straddling his waist, hands on his chest, his holding your waist. A breath breaks the kiss when you settle right above where he is hard, the ridge of him in his denim fitting between your open thighs. You are wearing jeans too but the thick material does nothing for true modesty.

You settle there against him, fitting like perfectly slotted halves of a whole. His brow creases, a truly tortured expression that pours into bliss when he yields to desire. He holds your hips, keeping you there against him, and goes back to kissing you with long, slow presses, eyes closed and the occasional breath gentle.

Your fingers are in his hair, stroking at his nape. Lovely low sounds slip into his sighs. You can feel how desperately turned on and wanting you are, clenching around nothing if he so much as shifts. You imagine laying here like this with him inside you, not moving much, lazily kissing and joined together like you have all the time in the world. The very thought has you clenching again, whimpering into his mouth. It sounds a little pained so he strokes your back, under your shirt, making you shiver very noticeably.

“Are you okay?” he asks, with a completely shot voice, rough and low.

“Mhm,” you say. Words take a long time to come back to you. “Just… thinking…”

“About?”

“If we were kissing…”

“We are kissing,” he says with a chuckle, tracing circles on your spine

“And,” you say, pointedly, and press your knees into his hips. “If you were inside me while we did it.”

That makes his hand pause. Then he thunks his head back hard and fast, missing the cushion and hitting the arm of the couch. His eyes close and his face scrunches, newfound pain adding to his present torture, all of it making you giggle.

“You keep doing that,” you say, remembering him hitting his head in the car too.

“That’s because you…” He can’t even finish, he just makes a pained noise and shakes his head. It makes you laugh a little more, biting your own bruised lip as you look down at him. He cracks one eye open, his cheeks dimpling with the tug of a smile. He slides his hand far up your back, thumb finding the band of your bra and skirting it, then diving back down to your spine to settle just above your ass. “If I was inside you,” he says softly, “we would not just be kissing.”

It is your turn for a pained noise, hiding your face in his neck while he laughs.

“You can’t say things like that,” you whine. “That’s just mean.”

“Mhm.” He gives your ass a pat, making you wriggle on top of him. “Okay,” he says breathlessly. “That was one kiss. Or something. I think we’re done.”

“You’re the wooorst,” you say as he sits up. “I hate you so much. You’re so evil. You’re so sick and twisted—”

He just laughs, patting your sides and shaking his head. You only stop complaining when he kisses your nose, a sweet little peck. His smile is tender. He touches your cheek.

“Say it again,” he says.

“What? I hate you? Fine. There. I hate you.”

“One more time?” he teases, cupping your jaw, kissing your neck when you try and speak again. Your words get garbled and he laughs, shaking his head. “That’s what I thought,” he says. “Now up. I’m in charge. It’s time for dinner.”

“I can give you something to eat—”

“Up.” His tone is stern but he is still smiling. “Don’t be trouble.”

“Me?” you say. “When have I ever been trouble? I’m perfect.”

“Of course you are,” he says dryly. “I don’t know why I worried.”

“Exactly,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. Your eyes are locked, your smiles soft. You kiss his nose. “And I’m just getting started.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz x reader

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