When Jun Convinces You To Let Him Fuck You Infront Of Your Best Friends

Something about this dynamic makes me go absolutely insane:')

♡ promises with felix

↳ pairing: felix x reader ↳ word count: 2.3k ↳ genre: smut ↳ summary: you shouldn't make promises you can't keep aka felix wants his reward now ↳ warnings: smut [unprotected intercourse, use of a butt plug, mentions of pegging, creampie] ↳ masterlist ♡ updates ♡ read on AO3

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Don't make promises you can't keep, you tell yourself once more when your phone vibrates, the screen showing yet another text from your boyfriend.

Felix: when am i getting my part of the deal?

You kind of hate this deal you’ve made, mostly because you’ve played yourself like a fool with it. You thought you were being smart when you gave him the butt plug and asked him to wear it tonight when you hung out at his friends’ place.

“What’s in it for me?” Felix mumbled into the kiss, not even protesting about the toy.

“You get to come inside of me,” you offered so confidently. “How does that sound?”

You did it thinking the toy inside of him would make your boyfriend stutter and squirm, which would only turn you both on. But, instead of that happening, you’re the one squirming in your seat, pussy clenching around nothing at the texts Felix is sending you. That’s the thing—you should be the one in control now. In fact, you are the one in control, as per your initial agreement when entering the relationship.

Control is a fickle thing. When you first started having sex, you thought the one who fucks gets to set the tone and steer the whole thing, which was never you. Then, you suddenly realized that was kind of unfair and that you want to exert control, so you sought out guys who enjoyed letting go, who let you do whatever you wanted and make them beg.

That only happened twice before Felix, and he turned it all around for you. You’ve never seen someone be so snarky and in control while getting their ass rammed by a toy—no one but Felix. To him, letting you play with him, letting you finger and peg him, calling him your pretty baby were rewards, not punishments. He saw nothing emasculating about letting you fuck his ass or call him pretty. In fact, he loved it, which is what confused you so much.

You’ve never had a guy talk back to you while you fucked him, never had someone who sounded so in control while keeping their cheeks spread so you can push your strap further into their hole. But that always happened with Felix. You’d fuck him and ask him if it feels good, or something similar to that, even though it was clear he was feeling amazing—his cock would be hard and leaking, body twitching under yours, toes curling as he kept his knees in the air. So, you’d tease him about it, “Ah, you’re so hard... Must like being a slut for me.”

And yet, he’d chuckle and mutter in that low tone of his that got you going, “Feels perfect... Hard enough for you?” he’d look down at your hand wrapped around his leaking cock. “Bet you want to feel it in you while you fuck me, huh? I’m sure you’re so fucking wet I’ll slide right in once you’re done fucking me. I know you want me to fuck you just as hard as you’re doing me right now.”

And poof, any semblance of control would slip through your fingers, Felix leading conversation from then on, praising you for fucking him instead of you praising him for taking it so well.

You’re not sure why you thought tonight would be any different, though. The butt plug was a new thing—you wanted him to wear it in public and maybe squirm a bit. Yet, Felix was making you get wet and act awkward, so much that Jisung asked you if everything was fine.

You started it, though. Earlier, an hour into this hangout, you texted Felix, wanting to check how he was doing:

You: how does that butt plug feel in you, baby?

You thought you were doing something with it, that Felix would look at you with widened eyes and look away in shame, giggling with pink cheeks. To your misfortune, he wasn’t ashamed at all.

Felix: it feels good. not as good as your fingers in me, though

The second you read the text, you had to press your thighs together to alleviate the pressure bubbling between your legs. Fuck, he knew what to say to get you going. 

Getting to massage his prostate while jerking him off or sucking his dick was a favorite of yours, mostly because you got to see Felix fall apart. He always did it so readily too, never trying to spite you or be bratty. No, if you wanted him to beg and even cry, he would. He’d do anything to please, yet he also enjoyed teasing you.

He’s been texting you similar things since then, pausing for five or ten minutes, letting you relax and talk to people before telling you something nasty again, something that would get you going.

Felix: i bet it will feel so fucking good to fuck you with this thing inside me

Felix: i’ll give you such a big load, baby, i promise

Felix: that’s what you want, right? that’s why you promised me i’d get to do it here

After that text, Felix gives you a smirk that makes you clench your jaw and look away. You want him and you are sure people will notice if you keep looking at him like you are ready to devour him.

Felix: you want to feel me in you even after i pull out

Felix: you’re so dirty it’s hot

Felix: when are we doing it

The texts keep coming, and you tell yourself never to make a promise like this again. You rarely let Felix come inside of you, but that’s not the issue here. You’re on birth control, so you’re not afraid of pregnancy. You two are exclusive and clean, so you’re not worried about that either. It’s that you’re at Jisung’s place, surrounded by Felix’s friends, and you can’t just go to one of the rooms and fuck. You thought the idea was kind of hot back home when you made the deal, but now that you’re here, you’re worried someone’s gonna hear Felix fucking you stupid.

Yet, you promised, and he held up his end of the bargain, still is. At one point, your boyfriend walks over to you and sits down, hand wrapped around your shoulder as he pulls you in for a kiss, mumbling into it, “Can’t wait to feel you.”

“Can it wait until we get home?” you whisper back, hoping he’ll give up on the deal.

“Baby,” he whines into your ear, nose nudging your cheek, hot breath fanning your face and neck. “I’ve been so hard all this time, my underwear is all wet... Want to come in you so bad. Will you let me, hm? Want to have my cum in you?”

“God, Felix,” you grunt, even though your walls clamp around nothing in desperate need of him.

Twenty minutes later, Felix gets you to give in and go to the bathroom, following quickly behind.

You’re excited to have him but terrified of getting caught, so you mutter at him as soon as he locks the bathroom door, “You have to be quick, though.”

“Oh, I will,” Felix mumbles, the sinister chuckle telling you he’s got something in mind.

Before you know it, he’s turning you around, pushing your hips into the sink as his hands work on your zipper. The next second, your underwear and jeans are pushed down your thighs as Felix’s hand sneaks between your bodies and to your crotch, fingers immediately finding you embarrassingly wet.

“Oh, I knew you were loving it,” Felix grunts, getting his cock out of his jeans with his other hand, but you can’t focus on that, not when he’s running his fingers across your slit, getting you even more worked up. “Can I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you say, knowing it can’t last long, knowing you can’t come this time, knowing there’s no time. If it were up to Felix, he’d eat you out to get a couple of orgasms out of you before he even puts his dick in, but his friends are in the other room, and he’s just getting his reward. “Just... Quick.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I can be quick when I want to,” he says sweetly as he positions his cock at your entrance, mouth pressing kisses into your neck. “I wanted to fuck you all night.”

“Does the toy feel good?” you ask him, even though you’re sure he’s ecstatic over it.

“Like I said, great but not as good as you.” With that, Felix pushes his cock into you fully, eyes rolling to the back of his head. The butt plug is applying pressure inside his ass while your walls are clenching around his cock, making him get weak in the knees instantly. “Fuck! Damn, this feels good.”

“What is it, baby, too much already?” you tease, even though you’re not immune to the feeling of his cock in you either, especially when he moves it so nicely, slowly fucking into you, letting you adjust. You're sure the double stimulation feels even better.

“Teasing, are we?” Felix asks with a cocked-up eyebrow and a tinge of playfulness in his voice.

The next second, he’s grabbing your leg and making you place your knee on the sink so he can enter you from a different angle, one that immediately gets you to arch your back into him. It's deep, and you weren't ready for him to start fucking you like this, not in Jisung’s bathroom, so you moan loudly, taken by surprise.

Realizing you forgot where you are makes Felix go even harder. “Yes, that’s right... Let me hear you... Love to hear how good I fuck you.”

“Almost as good as I fuck you,” you tease again, clenching around him on purpose, your hand flying down to play with your clit.

When Felix sees that, he tsks at you, swatting your hand away. “Baby, you have me for that,” he tells you as he spits on his fingers and moves them down to your clit, wet and ready to touch you. His other hand keeps your hip in place, fingers digging into the skin.

“Felix!” The second his glistening fingers make contact with your skin, you moan again, kicking your head back. It’s early in, but you’re already done for, and you want Felix to get you off.

His cock just slides right in and out every time, coated with your juices. You’ve been wet for hours now, imagining how good Felix feels with the toy inside of him, thinking about how much you wanted to finger him and suck him off while he moans and becomes putty in your hands.

It’s funny how he’s in control again, even though he’s the one with a toy in him. “Gonna come for me already?” he asks you as the fluttering of your walls gives you away, eyes staring into his reflection in the mirror, glued to the way his plush lips fall open as he moans into your ear. “My cock makes you feel that good?”

“Perfect,” you mumble, hand placed over his. You’re not helping him touch you—you just want to touch his hand and feel like you have some sort of control still. “Wish I could fuck you too.”

Felix snorts at that and starts moving his hips faster, slamming himself into you, your juices dripping down your inner thighs because of the way he pulls all the way out. It’s too much when paired with his nimble fingers on your clit.

“Be good and come for me now,” Felix hums in your ear gently, his voice in stark contrast with the sharp movements of his hips and hand. “I'll come right after you, and we can go back... You'll fuck me when we get home, I promise.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep,” you grunt, face frowning as your body clenches, orgasm closing in.

“Like you?” Felix quips, smacking your clit, which doesn't do anything to ruin the moment—it only makes you hornier, if possible. By now, Felix's cock makes a wet sound every time it moves in and out, revealing how embarrassingly wet you are because you're fucking him in his friend's bathroom. “You will keep your promise, pretty, won't you?”

When you hum in response, Felix starts rubbing you again, this time applying more pressure. At the same time, he opts for pushing his cock deep inside of you and moving only a couple of inches back before plunging into you again, knowing he hits all the spots that feel good that way.

You notice beads of sweat along his hairline, one dripping down the side of his face, brows scrunched as he focuses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm coming—”

It's a quick but powerful orgasm, one that makes you grab the sink so you don't fall onto Felix. But, he doesn't stop even though he usually would have. Instead, Felix wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his frame and pumps his cock into you from behind. His thrusts are sharp and fast, grunts getting deeper, low voice struggling when calling your name.

“You're gonna fill it up for me, hm?” you ask sweetly, knowing how much Felix loves coming inside you. “Give it to me.”

“Yes, yes,” he keeps mumbling into the crook of your neck, breath tickling your skin. Unprompted, you reach back and grab his ass, giving it a light squeeze before finding the end of the toy that's sticking out of his hole a bit from all the thrusting he's been doing. “Oh, fuck, fuck! Baby, I, fu—aaah!”

With you pressing the butt plug into his ass, Felix releases inside of you, overwhelmed by the feeling of your warm walls milking him dry, of you obediently taking his cum even though you're at Jisung’s, even though it will probably keep trickling out of you and onto your underwear, make you sticky and wet, remind you that Felix owns it.

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I swear every time you put out another writing i say it's my favorite 🫣

HOST REQUESTED: Lee Minho

«ONE NIGHT AT BACK DOOR COLLECTION MASTERLIST»

HOST PROFILE 🔸Name: Lee Minho 🔸Attracts: Tsundere & snark enjoyers, people who have a thing for thick thighs 🔸Characteristics: Shadow King [Needs revision: Mate, stfu you're my right hand at best. I'll write your description for you -Chris] 🔸Why patrons love him: He never directly shows affection. It makes an entertaining challenge for them to try and induce that. Dancer whore. Head game unrivaled. [@Chris: I work here, you know that right? -Hyun]

DOWN LOW

📜5.2K words | Approx. 22-min. read 🖤Lee Know x Reader 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings: Striptease, Minho's thighs and veiny hands & arms, mouth-to-mouth drinking, praise kink, size kink, forced orgasm, sex toys, anal play (m receiving), vaginal fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, cumplay. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

“LEE FUCKING MINHO!!!” 

You barged into the kitchen to find your roommate eating cereal and shoved the results of your stats midterm into his face.

“Look at this shit. Look at it!!!”

Lee Minho. Business major. Dance club president. The worse half of the campus whore duo along with that Christopher dude. Borderline narcissist. Your annoying-ass roommate addicted to working out and keeping his stamina at the maximum. He always walked around the apartment in his damn uniform—his plain, occasionally sleeveless t-shirts to flaunt those bulging veins all over his large hands and pumped arms, and those fucking shorts to expose his thighs and calves at all times. Being an October-born Scorpio, he called himself ‘King of the Fall’, and blamed his extreme homme fatalism as well as his entire insanity on his zodiac sign. 

“You got a C,” Minho quickly examined the paper and handed it back to you, “What do you want? Congrats?”

“Do you know why I got a C?”

“Because you didn’t study?”

“Because I couldn’t study!!!” you slapped his arm with the paper, “How many times am I gonna tell you to take your bimbos someplace else?!”

A good portion of his cardio activities included fucking people with complete disregard for the fact that there was another person living under that roof, or in the two-kilometer radius. Man, was he loud. Every time he brought someone over, you thought this was going to be the time your neighbors would call the cops for suspected murder. He didn’t fuck; he sent these girls to their graves, and they seemed to be thanking him for it.

And you never saw the same one twice.

“If I could, then I would,” he drank the remaining milk straight from the bowl and placed it in the sink, “But I can’t, so I shan’t.”

“THEN FUCKING SOUNDPROOF YOUR ROOM!” you flat out screamed at his face, “What the fuck these bitches see in you, I’ll never know.”

“Do you have eyes? I’m insanely hot.”

“You’re also insanely insufferable.”

“Whatevs, gorgeous. I gotta go to practice,” he grabbed his duffel bag and landed a playful smack on your ass, “Later.” 

The audacity of this motherfucker... Every single time.

It was a steep learning curve getting used to each other, which involved a lot of bitching, but you stuck together all throughout college. To your absolute surprise, Minho was actually capable of being a decent human being towards a select few. Except for his extremely high libido, he was a good roommate with more than acceptable culinary skills, and even a better friend. Despite his very quirky ways, he was there for you whenever you needed someone. To talk to. To vent to. A companion to sit in silence with. A partner in crime to look after the neighborhood cats with. And an absolute enabler.

Over the years, he racked up quite a noteworthy score in the buddy department, earning himself the title of a ride or die. By your graduation, you had partaken in so many wingman activities for him that you were basically known as his pimp. Time couldn’t do much to your bond; even when you went your separate ways, moved houses, took and quit several jobs, met and left people, both of you were always one call away from each other.

Ride or die.

For Valentine’s Day, you made plans with a bunch of friends to go get wasted somewhere on and exchange gifts with each other as ‘Secret Cupids’. Minho had suggested an open reservation for a night at Back Door would make a hilarious but on-point gift for the person you picked, and that night you were there to pick up your ‘official invitation’ from him because, you know, his goddamn secretive speakeasy shenanigans.

“Honey, I’m home!” you chirped walking into the lounge area. You expected the usual commotion to greet you, but you were welcomed by the ghosts of crickets and tumbleweeds instead.

“Whoa, it’s dead quiet. Where is everybody?”

“Auditioning for Cirque du Soleil,” Minho responded from the bar, immediately causing you to deadpan.

“Min…”

“Where the fuck do you think? Entertaining their patrons,” he gestured to the closed door leading towards the suite hall, “You took your sweet time. I was about to head home.”

You had seen Minho in his host attire before. He never wore off the rack. Brand-name suits custom-made for him in blacks, anthracites, and midnight blues, matching shirts inside that always revealed a piece of his honey skin to adorn with delicate necklaces, and a belt that hugged his waist that induced an intense desire to wrap legs around it. 

That night he just had baggy cargo pants on still with a belt, and a black zip-up top still exposing his chest very tastefully. No necklace this time, though.

“You don’t have a patron on V-Day, tiger?” you sat down on one of the stools and clasped your hands on the bar top, “Literally the most lucrative high holiday of your club?”

“I will if you pay me.”

“As if I could ever afford your ridiculously expensive ass,” you stole a handful of almonds from the bowl in front of him and pointed at the invitation, “Chris is gonna kill you after he finds out you gave me this out of your own pocket.”

“If he finds out,” Minho corrected you while drying the stemless glass in his hand with a washcloth, “I may be expensive, but it’s hella worth it. I can just give you the good stuff for free to get you hooked, you know.”

You didn’t need the confirmation because you already knew about the good stuff thanks to that thin wall you shared with him for years. You involuntarily snorted. 

Why bitches love Minho reason #2: All his sass is weirdly sexy.

“Seriously though, why are you the only one free?”

“My patron bailed on me last minute and got back together with her ex,” he placed the glass on a rack, “So I took over lounge bartending duties for tonight.”

“Yeah? What are you gonna do after this?”

“Head home. Hang out with Pudding or whatever.”

“I love that cat to death, but that’s so fucking depressing,” you blurted out and extended a counteroffer, “Why don’t you come hang out with us?”

“No thanks,” Minho replied curtly.

You didn’t really expect him to accept that invitation anyway because, unlike his fast days, Minho’s mingling tolerance dropped way low ever since he started socializing for a living. You examined his expressionless face and changed your plans for the night in your head.

“Tell you what,” you finally swallowed the almonds you’d been munching on, “I’ll be your patron tonight.”

“That’s for paying customers only, gorgeous,” Minho smiled, shaking the red envelope.

“HA! Remember your entire college life you spent as a freeloader in our apartment?” you slammed your fist on the counter, “It’s payback time, gold digger. Pay up.”

“When the fuck are you gonna let that go?”

“Never. Less talking, more serving. Get to work!” you ordered him while texting your friends you weren’t coming.

He was an annoying ass alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave him alone while the rest of his crew was having a good time under the disguise of work. You could at least keep him company for the sake of all those times your plans fell through, and he canceled his booty calls to hang out with you instead with the reasoning ‘Don’t feel like it. Their vibes were off anyway.’

Minho filled a highball glass with crushed ice and poured peach vodka all over it. When you made a move to grab the drink, he slapped your hand away.

“Nuh uh. If you’re gonna drink here for free, you’re gonna do it Back Door style.”

“Back Door style?”

He placed his elbows on the counter and leaned into you with that notorious smirk of his plastered to his face.

“Your lips aren’t supposed to touch the glass.”

You leaned into him in return, reflecting the exact shade of his smile back to him, and spoke with a voice as sultry as it came.

“Then I would like a swirly straw, please. Thank you.”

“You think you’re being so cute, aren’t you?” he didn’t budge and dragged the drink towards himself, leaving a moist trace on the bar, “I’m gonna be your glass. Take it or leave it.”

“Sure, and that’s definitely not your attempt to get out of giving me free drinks or anything.”

“I gave you an entire fucking night for free. Why would a bunch of drinks be my concern?”

This wasn’t your first rodeo with Minho’s teasing, but they had always been just words. Brazen declarations not meant to be taken seriously. In all your years together, that was the one line neither of you crossed to protect something valuable to both of you. The potential aftermath was just not worth it.

Yet that night, Minho looked at you with dead serious eyes, seemingly ready to risk it all.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?”

“Does this look like we’re hosting an open mic night?”

“This will mess up our dynamics really bad, tiger.”

“Maybe I wanna fucking ruin our friendship. Did that ever occur to you?”

Why bitches love Minho reason #3: His bluntness will make your heart throb as well as your clit.

“Fine,” you dared him, trying to assess how far he was willing to go, “Pour up.”

The only sound filling in that lounge area was the soft, quiet instrumentals emitting from the speakers and your heartbeat thumping in your ears. Minho grabbed the glass, took a large sip, and brought his face closer to you. Zero hesitation. In your mind, the second you made a move he was going to burst into laughter or say some shit to embarrass you, so you prepared your metaphorical knife at the ready in self-defense to tell him you weren’t buying it, but you did come closer to him, your eyes fixated on moist lips. More. A little more. A little more.

Then Minho closed the distance between you completely and let the cold liquid travel from his mouth into yours. You felt your entire body get shocked from head to toe.

The frost of the crushed ice versus the warmth of Minho’s tongue dancing with yours was such a delightful contrast. You didn’t know whether it was the vodka or his lips that tasted that sweet.

Once you swallowed, it should have been the end of it. One of you should have stepped back, but no one did. Both of you had already crossed that line, so you might as well have kept it up. For a good minute, you satisfied the curiosity of what kissing each other would feel like.

It felt like jumping from a cliff into the sea in slow motion on a scorching hot summer day.

You returned to reality once Minho’s voice echoed in your ears again.

“One more?”

You nodded with your eyes closed. He pushed the drink towards you so that you could be his glass this time. You trapped the refreshing liquid in your mouth, savoring the peach flavor, and before you could even make a move, Minho impatiently grabbed your nape to get a taste of his share. Like he couldn’t find a drop of water to quench his thirst the entire day. Like he couldn’t find a way to quench his thirst for you all this time.

“Did you like the presentation?” he asked when he finally managed to step away from your lips. The question made you chuckle.

“You being a slut for compliments just never gets old, does it?”

When you least expected it, he jumped over the bar counter with the agility of a predatory feline and swiveled your stool towards himself.

“Then time for a palate cleanser.”

That little game of sharing drinks immediately devolved into a very heavy makeout session embellished with quick inhales, soft, muffled moans, tongues clashing with each other, and hands trying to declare their independence all over each other’s bodies, wanting more and more and more. While drowning in the thick texture of lust he was coating you with, you were thinking about all those times you listened to Minho fuck people when you were roommates. They all left like an eighteen-wheeler ran over them the next day, and you had always wondered why.

Now you were beginning to have an idea.

Why bitches love Minho reason #4: He kisses like he fucks.

“Wanna get out of here?” Minho asked, completely breathless and panting.

“I wanna get in here, actually,” you stole a glance from the closed door in the distance, “Why don’t you take me to your suite? I wanna see what the big deal is about you.”

“So you are my patron tonight, huh?” he raised one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows and immediately changed the tone of his voice to the host mode, “What would you like to call me?”

“I’ll stick to my usuals. Pretty, sexy, all that shit that feeds your praise kink, you know?”

He couldn’t even keep that façade for five seconds. When you responded like that, he bit his lips tainted with a mischievous smile, and landed a slap on your ass. You laughed. You knew him better than everyone else, after all. It wasn’t something you made up in your mind; Minho had directly told you that during a drunk night.

‘Only you can get me.’

He handed you a bottle of champagne, grabbed one himself, and took your hand to lead the way to his suite.

“Come with me, gorgeous.”

Minho had called you that a million times before. It was one of your designated nicknames, but never once did it make you feel that ticklish inside to hear it. Possibly because he had never prefaced it with a knee-weakening kiss before.

You followed him to the silent hallway. It was actually kinda funny that you somewhat had your fingerprint on this place. Minho had informed you that the soundproofing idea was inspired by your incessant bitching during your roommate days, and if you didn’t already know how this club operated, you could swear there was nobody else in the vicinity engaging in copious amounts of debauchery.

He swiped his card on the door, and when you entered the room right behind him, your jaw dropped all the way to the floor. He quite obviously spared no expense to go all out for this space. A dining area at one corner of the room in front of a stunning city view, a ginormous couch that might as well have been a bed—quite clearly not there just for ‘lounging’ purposes, a colossal mirror installed right in front of it for who knows why, a shoji screen sliding door currently open to separate the area from the bedroom which contained an even more gargantuan bed and, surprise surprise, more mirrors on the ceiling and right behind the bedpost.

“Jesus fuck, Min! Just how much money are you making here?!”

“A fair amount,” he leisurely responded while removing the gold-colored wrapping covering the cork of the champagne.

“Nuh uh,” you immediately stopped him, “If you’re gonna pop that, then you’re gonna do it gorgeous style.”

“Which is?”

You took the bottle from his hand, shook it as hard as you could, and aimed it afar.

“Champagne showers, baby.”

When you popped it, you sprayed almost half the content on Minho like he was running under a sprinkler. Completely drenched, he grabbed the bottle back and emptied it on you as retaliation. Both of you laughed like idiots for quite some time, and when it finally died down, you watched him lick his lips while stepping towards you, checking you out from head to toe.

“We don’t need glasses for this.”

He wrapped one hand around your waist and started slurping on the champagne dripping down your neck while fondling your breasts with the other. The wetness you were covered with was nothing compared to what was oozing out of your folds.

“So, which one tastes better?” you whispered into his ear, “The vodka or the champagne?”

“You want my honest opinion?”

“As blunt as it gets.”

His little smirk still intact, he locked eyes with you, slipped his finger inside your underwear, and circled it around your clit a few times to collect your juices. He didn’t even blink when he licked your taste off his skin with absolute gusto.

“Your cunt,” Minho gave you your answer, “By a landslide.”

“I fucking love your hands,” you traced the bulging veins up his forearms with your fingers, “Have I ever told you what these are doing to me?”

“I’ll have an idea when I feel your tongue on me.”

Completely out of instinct, you bit on the zipper of his top and dragged it all the way down to expose him for you. Firm. Toned. Simply glorious. You slithered your fingers inside and slid his top off his shoulders. His naked torso was such an enticing sight that you kneeled in front of him as if in a trance and licked the champagne running down his pecs all the way up to his chest. He groaned at the sensation.

“Dance for me, pretty. I’ll make it rain on you,” you plopped down on the couch and stretched both your arms on the backrest, “Don’t you have like toys and stuff around here?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Am I not your patron? I can ask for whatever I want,” you stated the facts to him, “I would like a bullet vibrator with a controller please, and thank you.”

Minho cackled at how straightforward you were being and brought you your request from one of the drawers. When he handed you the box, you harshly pulled him down from his nape and whispered against his mouth.

“And I also happen to know what an attention whore you are. You’re gonna lose your fucking mind watching me cum to you dancing.”

You watched him draw a total blank and took the opportunity to kiss him again. You leaned back, nestled the toy inside your underwear, and clicked on the controller to start the vibrations at the lowest setting. 

“Now entertain me, sexy,” you contently exhaled.

As you opened the second bottle of champagne, Minho dimmed the lights of the room, put on a song almost as seductive as he was, and started dancing for you. Sultry. Erotic. But also hard-hitting. Precise. Like an absolute whore that was basically airfucking you. You spread your legs wider and downed the champagne straight from the bottle, wondering whether you could cum hands-free without a vibrator if you watched him long enough.

Why bitches love Minho reason #5: Watching him dance is the same thing as watching porn.

“Down low, baby,” you instructed your host, “Drop it low for me.”

He came closer to the couch you were sprawled on and continued with his smooth body rolls so close to your face that you could feel the heat radiating from his crotch. You could see how hard he got over watching you flinch with the vibrations inside you every once in a while, and if that outline was any indication, he was packing. You were dying to see it in the flesh. Your hands moved on their own to unzip his pants, but he stopped you with a firm grip on your wrists.

“Do the thing with your mouth again.”

You bit on the zipper of his pants this time, and as you were dragging it down, you felt him throb against you. You looked into his eyes while unbuttoning him. Minho held your gaze with his mouth open like he was utterly hypnotized, and let out a hiss when you finally freed him from his boxers. Your lips inadvertently parted when you saw how mouthwateringly big he was.

“Like what you see?” he brazenly grinned.

“Damn, tiger. What have you been hiding from me all this time?”

He was loving how much you seemed to enjoy the sight of him, and it was masturbating his ego big time, pun fully intended.

“How do you think I got this rich this fast?”

You couldn’t contain the urge to feel him any longer and gently wrapped your fingers around him. Minho’s excitement peaked through the roof when he felt your touch.

“Shit, blow me, gorgeous,” he breathily exhaled and slithered his fingers into your hair, “You know you want to.”

Well… It was true. 

Why bitches love Minho reason #6: His goddamn THIGHS.

You dragged your fingers on his magnificent thighs first as he clenched them for you. After years of admiring them in his shorts, they were right in front of your face now. You ended up kissing them. Making out with them. Taking gentle bites from them. 

And it was fucking sensational.

Hands clasped behind his nape, Minho stood tall in front of you and eagerly waited for you to take him in your warmth. When you finally wrapped your lips around his head, his eyes fluttered close.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he threw his head back with a loud groan and looked down at you again, “Let me see you take it all. Take all of me.”

He kept guiding your head back and forth on his cock, absolutely relishing the way you were swirling your tongue around his thick girth. Every time you squeezed your lips, Minho felt more blood rushing to his crotch, and grew even bigger inside your mouth. How much he could last had always been a matter of pride for him, but if you kept working him like that, there was no way he wasn’t going to blow.

“No,” he suddenly stopped your ministrations, “No, not yet.”

He sat on his knees in front of you and gently pushed your chest for you to sit back.

“Open wide, baby. Show me how wet your cunt is under that dress.”

You did exactly as he said. Minho brushed his thumb on your underwear first and felt the moisture, extremely content with how ruined the piece of garment was. Then he slowly dragged it down and fully exposed your pussy for himself. His whole mouth filled with saliva just looking at your glistening slit. He descended between your legs to take the vibrator out of you and turned it off.

“This?” he licked the toy clean like a popsicle, “Nothing compared to what I can give you.”

When he latched his mouth to your clit, you tangled your fingers in his sweaty hair and guided his head on your pussy in an excruciatingly slow rhythm to edge yourself. You were absolutely losing it over how intensely he was pleasuring you. Minho was so fucking sexy no matter how disheveled he looked. He was actually even sexier because of how disheveled he looked. You watched him wrap his bulging arms around your thighs as he kept swirling that tongue around your clit with perfect pressure to ascend you.

“Like that. Just like that,” you melted into his mouth, “Run that tongue all over me.”

Why bitches love Minho reason #7: He eats pussy like he wants to induce blunt force trauma with pleasure.

You weren’t able to control how deep you were moaning, more so whenever you caught a glimpse of how mindblowingly erotic he looked between your legs in that mirror. Every time you said his name, Minho hummed against your cunt and increased the pressure of his tongue. You were getting more turned on. You were getting wetter. And he was pushing you more towards the edge one lick at a time.

“Jesus fuck, Minho, you’re fucking great at this!”

You felt him smile against your pussy. You were getting closer to your orgasm at record speed, but you wanted to feel him inside you.

“Come up and fuck me.”

But Minho didn’t stop.

“Min, please.”

He didn’t stop. He started licking you faster instead.

“Minh– Stop– You– Ins– Fuck!!!”

He wasn’t listening to you at all. On the contrary, he pushed his middle finger inside you and started fingering you frantically. That abrupt peak in pressure was too much too fast all of a sudden, and as you shut your eyes tight with a loud scream, you felt a wet release between your legs. When you eventually opened your eyes, you witnessed something dripping down Minho’s perfect fucking cheekbones. 

Your cum.

“Champagne showers, baby,” he climbed up to kiss you. 

At the end of that kiss, Minho looked at your lips, and then deep into your eyes. He had never looked at you like that before. You felt something tightening in the pit of your stomach.

Don’t cross that line. For years.

For what, exactly?

“Screw it. Let’s fuck.”

You pulled him in for a kiss again, and it got out of hand pretty quickly. You got rid of whatever piece of clothing was still hanging around your bodies, and you straddled Minho on that gigantic couch.

“Play with me,” he grabbed handfuls of your ass, “Fucking ruin me.”

An open invitation to set fire to his body in a red envelope? 

Oh, he was fucking doomed.

You attempted to sit on him, but even when you were that wet, you were struggling because of his size.

“Too big for you, gorgeous?” he tilted his head with a little smile, “Shh, I’ll stretch you real nice. You’re gonna become a perfect fit around me.”

He started his shallow thrusts to work you open as you continued to lower yourself on him. Minho almost combusted just watching himself disappear inside you halfway. Even that much felt so warm. So slippery. 

“Fuck, so damn tight,” he closed his eyes heaving a deep sigh, “I can barely move.”

When he finally bottomed out, a loud groan ripped from his throat. It felt like you were licking him inside you. As he kept moving, he was rubbing against your walls and massaging them so fucking deliciously that you couldn’t help your moans. He had no choice but to pick up his pace to make you moan louder for him.

“Let it out, baby. Scream my name.”

You were panting over Minho, feeling completely full inside you. He was stretching you just like he promised, molding you into a perfect sleeve for himself. Every time you clenched, the sensation was nothing short of you sucking him off.

“Minho!”

“I’m fucking losing my mind,” he dug his fingertips into your ass, “Why the fuck haven’t we done this before?”

He started fucking you more fervently while sucking on your nipples. You were overwhelmed. You felt so good. You felt fucking incredible.

Why bitches love Minho reason #8: Having sex with this beast is a religious experience.

“Down,” you pressed on his collarbones to signal him to lay down, “Open your legs for me.”

You instantly felt empty when he pulled out, but this couldn’t wait. You were burning with the desire to make him feel good in every way possible. You spread his legs apart and dragged your nails on his thighs again. You started placing kisses on his rock hard cock and made your way down to his shaft. Then lower. And lower. And all the way down to his entrance. He pressed your head towards himself to feel you more when you started licking into him to get him all slippery for you. You landed the coup de grâce when you placed the bullet vibrator inside him and pulled him up again to sit comfortably.

Why bitches love Minho reason #9: He’s so comfortable with his sexuality that you will wish it was him every time you fuck someone else.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him comfortably pave his way into you again, and closed your eyes to focus on how he felt inside you.

At least you attempted to. But Minho didn’t let you.

“Look at me,” he touched your face, “I’m right here. Look into my eyes.”

There was something different in there. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t audaciously grinning like he always did. He just looked at you with something akin to a tinge of hope. It was unusual. It was scary. It felt like looking into an abyss, and you didn’t know whether his eyes had a bottom. He made a sudden run for your lips, and melting in his mouth again felt like sinking in the deep end.

Minho started fucking into you with a newfound fervor while holding your gaze. He squinted his eyes every once in a while due to how intense his pleasure was but never really closed them. You watched him touch your lips with his thumb, part them, and shove it inside your mouth. A loud moan escaped his lips when you sucked on his finger because it felt like you were sucking him again. Thinking this was the perfect opportunity, you finally pressed play on the controller.

“God—damn, that feels fucking incredible!”

“I know,” you smiled at him this time, “And you’re at my mercy for once.”

Admitting defeat was categorically out of question for Minho. He started searching for a spot inside you like his life depended on it to make your brain short-circuit. And when he finally found it, you involuntarily clawed his forearms.

“There. Right there!” 

“You like it there, don’t you baby?”

Click.

“Ah, just like that. Don’t stop!”

“Fucking cream me, come on,” he clenched his teeth and pinned you in your place from your waist, “I need you dripping down my cock.”

“I’m so fucking close,” you pressed your forehead on his, “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

Minho slid his hands down and grabbed your ass to pull you even closer to him. You felt yourself getting impaled.

Click.

“Let go,” he managed to utter between his panting, “Let go, baby. Give me what’s mine.”

Click.

“Minho!!!”

“Kiss me.”

Click.

“If you press that shit one more time, I swear to fucking god I’m gonna cum inside you.”

Click. Click. Click. Click.

“FUCK, baby!!!”

That was not cumming; Minho straight up exploded inside you. Thick strings of his warm seed squirted all over your contracting walls, and he kept fucking his cum deeper into you while riding out both your highs. Once you managed to come down, you looked at each other super fucked out and disheveled. Then he stole a kiss from your lips out of nowhere.

“Since uh– your plans are already out the window…” Minho played with your hair averting his eyes from you, “Do you wanna like… I don’t know, come over? We can watch Netflix and stuff.” 

“Netflix and stuff,” you echoed him with furrowed brows and a smile.

“Yeah, and uh– and Pudding really misses you.”

Lee Minho. Business owner. Choreographer. A full-time escort. Still a borderline narcissist. Your annoying-ass friend who was suffering from severe emotional constipation and wouldn’t admit it at any cost.

You had to bite the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from bursting out laughing. 

“So you’re asking me to come over just so that Pudding can see me,” you emphatically uttered, “Not that we can have sex all night or anything.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” he hid his face in the crook of your neck.

Why bitches love Minho reason #10: He has the most indirect ways to tell you he likes you.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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I'm very late to the zipper game, I know.

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

-R. (CB97%)

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

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I love this😩💪

sharing is caring | smut (rewritten)

important author's note : if any of you came from my old blog (well same user, but i accidentally, stupidly deleted everything), you would know that this was my most popular fic. now, i've re-written it and made it much better than before. i hope you'll all like this! :) i'm also changing up my templates a bit :0

pairing : (gamer)boyfriend!san x fem/afab reader (reader is specified to be jongho's age) ft. the rest of the members

smut : daddy kink, humiliation (but you're a masochist so you like it), penetrative sex, san's PACKING, dom/sub dynamics, consensual exhibitionism (through video call), sex on a gamer chair, heavy degradation, edging, multiple orgasms, biting, spit/cum play, creampie, manhandling, use of hitachi 'magic wand' vibrator, PURE FILTH.

summary : you two were freaky enough as is, but add to that by having sex on san's gaming chair and having all seven of his friends watch him pound your cunt. ♡ 5.43k words

smut under the cut, minors do not interact

Cold. You felt cold, all except for your backside. Pressed against your boyfriend, his thighs spreading yours open, warm in his tight embrace. Your hands were clutching the arms of his gaming chair, the constant cool air of the room making your legs shiver, and what was in between feeling sensitive, seeing that you wore nothing else under your skirt.

"Darling, it's a little rude to not greet our guests, right?" San purred into your ear, both of his hands playing with the ends of your terribly short skirt, threatening to expose what was underneath.

His lips hit the shell if your ear, the tip of his tongue licking your soft skin to tease your already timid nature.

"I'm sorry." you quickly apologized, your wavering eyes trying to look confidently towards the monitor. But, you couldn't help but stare at his keyboard and repeatedly blink as you spoke, "Hi."

You weren't usually this shy in front of San's best friends, primarily since you've known some of them for years, but any girl in your position, literally and figuratively, would feel exactly how you felt.

The fact you were wearing a tight-fitted shirt, a skirt that San loved fucking you in, no bra or underwear to be seen, and were sprawled out on San's lap—you had every right to feel sinfully aroused.

"Good girl," he responded with confidence laced into his voice, now one of his hands caressing up and down your bare thigh like he was petting you, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No," you said quietly again, biting your bottom lip in nervousness. God, you wanted this, you agreed to this, but you couldn't help but feel timid during the actual occasion.

"Chin up, sweetheart. Let the boys see your pretty face."

"I—I can't." you admitted. San knew, and you knew he knew, that you were overwhelmed in the best way possible. You were visibly hot and bothered, and he could swear that you were already beginning to leak on his pants.

"Yes, you can. Come on, sweetie. They're all so, so eager to see how you look right now." his hand now tightened around your thigh as if to tell you 'don't be a brat,' and you understood well enough to obey.

Again, and with no answer this time, you didn't do as told. However, it was much too early for you to get punished, right? San would let this one slide, right? Wrong.

Suddenly, you felt a hand grip your jaw, forcing you to look up to the screen. Your eyes widened, your breath stopped, cheeks slightly squished by your boyfriend's fingers as you made eye contact with every one of the boys. And every one of them had a shit-eating smirk on their faces as they looked at you.

"God, baby." San spoke in faux disappointment, "You were being such a good girl today, and now when it's the main event, you choose to be a brat? Are you asking to get punished?"

"No!" you interjected, turning your head just enough to look San in the eyes.

"No, what?" he raised both his eyebrows, taunting you through the strands of hair covering a bit of his face.

"No, daddy." you added, not believing yourself for forgetting to say that.

"Awe," San pouted his lips and furrowed his eyebrows to mock you, now grazing your cheek with the same fingers that gripped it just seconds ago, "So cute of you to assume that you decide when you get punished."

You breathed in, looking back at the screen with the push of his hand. You could somewhat see the appearance being shot by the webcam at the bottom left of the screen, showing both you and San clearly on display. You could see and feel how San was beginning to slightly touch your core, inching closer with every move, exposing more of you to the other seven men.

Soon enough, they would all be able to see how wet you were getting.

"Who's idea was it to have the Hitachi on-hand again?" San spoke, talking to his friends this time.

"Mine." Wooyoung replied, slightly raising his hand with pride as he pursed his lips in a smile. You weren't surprised by the slightest that it was his idea, knowing damn well from San that a lot of the sex advice he got was from Wooyoung.

"Thank you, Wooyoung." San started, "Now, because you thought of it, why don't you speak to my baby and tell her about what kind of punishment she'll be getting."

"I would love to." the grin still on his face. You could hear him roll forward with the chair he was sitting on, now laying his chin on one of his hands as he spoke to you, "Hi Y/N."

"H—hi." you greeted back, learning that it was better for you to speak than not speak at all.

"You look very, very pretty tonight, cutie." Wooyoung complimented, liking the doe-eyed look on your face, "Can I ask you something first before I tell you your punishment?"

"Sure." you nodded.

"Are you actually looking forward to having us watch you get fucked by Sannie?"

His question left you somewhat surprised, seeing that you had agreed to do this months ago and multiple times since then, to assure that everything was consensual. But it seemed that now it was actually happening; they all, including San, wanted to make sure that you enjoyed this.

In a way, it was a sweet gesture hidden in desire.

"Yes," you answered with only one word first. But before Wooyoung could speak again, you took in their consideration and realized you needed to be more vocal, "Yes. Very much so. I like this."

Your answer seemed to please them all, the atmosphere going from still to much more relaxed, much more sexual than before.

"I'm glad." Wooyoung paused before visibly checking you out once again, maybe for his own measures, "So, first, grab the Hitachi from the table before I give you any other commands."

"O—okay." you confirmed that you heard him, San also helping you lean forward to grab the vibrator from the table. "And then?"

"Patience, Y/N." his comment made you feel a little sheepish, having shown how eager you were. "Can I have San spread your legs a little wider so that we can see everything?"

You were, again, taken aback by the question but appreciated that he asked regardless. You nodded and said 'yes' once again, allowing yourself to melt more into San's body. Your hand gripped the Hitachi wand to not drop it, as your boyfriend adjusted his legs to spread yours more since he was under you.

Because of the movement, you were now on full display. Your aching pussy was now visible to the rest of the guys. There was no room for you to be shy anymore, not like before. The guys also felt the vulnerability you were experiencing, seeing that they were about to watch their friend's girlfriend get fucked.

"My, my~" another voice was now speaking, which you could easily recognize as Seonghwa's. "San was right. You look exceptional when you're turned on."

"Sannie.." you whined, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked back at him. You felt like punching him in the face for talking about you that way, but you couldn't necessarily deny that you found it hot.

However, the punching agenda was still considered when he smiled and said a meaningless 'oops, sorry.'

"He's not wrong, Y/N." Wooyoung said, "Now since you still need to get punished, set the wand on high."

"High?" you asked, not sure if you were hearing him right. The night had just started, and he immediately already wanted you to use the vibrator on high?

"Yes, place it against your tits first. They seem a little neglected, don't you think?" Wooyoung cocked his head to the side, making himself seem like the usual playful person you normally knew.

You expected that he would've made San do it for you, but having you do it to yourself while you're propped on your boyfriend like a display piece for a public audience felt humiliating.

Then again, this was supposed to be your punishment. And a little humiliation never scared you off.

With your dominant hand, you pressed it first against your clothed, right nipple. Your body reacted with a slight jolt, shaken by the sudden contact with the sex toy.

Undeniably so, the buds on your tits were already rather hardened because of how fitting the shirt was and the cold air, but having the vibrator touch you was a much more pleasurable sensation.

"A—ah~” you let out a small moan, but it was loud enough for the guys to catch.

"Move on to the other." you heard Yunho speak this time. You did as told and tried to subside your reaction following his words. Of course, it failed since they all could tell from your shut eyes and quivering figure that you were enjoying this.

"Good, you're already turning into the obedient slut I usually know." San commented, stimulating you further by kneading your breasts with both his hands.

"Now that you know what to expect," Wooyoung continued on, "Put it on your clit and keep it there until we tell you to stop."

This time, you used both hands to clutch the toy, inching it closer to your bare core that was tingling with excitement. The buzzing sound of the vibrator was intimidating, but that wasn't what you were afraid of. What they would decide for you to do with it was what scared you.

The second the silicone hit your pussy, you clenched around nothing and threw your head back against San's shoulder. An evident wail spilled past your lips, the pleasure of the vibrations immediately affecting your physical being.

"Feels good, baby?" San asked, knowing the obvious answer while still kneading your tits.

"Yes—shit." you swore, pressing the head of the wand more onto your clit. Usually, you would start with the lowest setting and gradually move to the highest to peak your orgasm, but having it immediately on high was a new feeling you had never experienced before.

Even San never set it instantly on high when he controlled it. Perhaps your boyfriend’s deviant cruelty wasn’t the worst, compared to what his friends seemed to have up their sleeves.

"You look so hot, Y/N." you could hear Jongho say this time, the one person you knew the longest out of the eight guys.

And for some reason, that made an evidently loud whimper come out of your throat, kneading and giving more friction between your clit and the vibrator.

Really, Jongho was the one to thank for your relationship. If he hadn't called San to pick him up that night, you wouldn't have met him. Perhaps sooner or later, since you were a good friend to Jongho. Though sooner was better than later.

You couldn't forget the look in San's eyes when he held out his hand for you to shake, the attractive beam that was his smile you adored, Jongho introducing him as 'Choi San,' his favorite (and only) Hyung from Namhae.

Frankly, you were stunned when San told you that Jongho was up for his crazy idea to have his friends watch him fuck you.

Unbeknownst to you, the reason why San wanted to do this wasn't that he tried to feed some fantasy he'd always had, but it was because of his bruised pride when his friends claimed that you seemed too “vanilla” to be able to follow his proclaimed, outwardly “kinky” self.

You weren't exactly "innocent" either, but you seemed like a saint compared to San and his sexual history. It was laughable, really, but not when you're already spilling sexual arousal all over your boyfriend's clothed crotch from the pleasure of the vibrator.

"You're such a fucking whore, already dripping onto daddy from just a few minutes of having your pretty cunt pleased." San taunted, now moving on from your breasts to hold open your faltering legs.

"I—It feels good." you conceded, "Feels really, really good daddy.”

"Glad to hear it, baby." Wooyoung cockily articulated, "You'll have to say when you're close, okay?"

"Okay." slightly breathless from the moans you had been letting out.

San could feel your back arching off his upper body, your nostrils letting out loud sighs from trying to reduce the volume of your laments, your hair slightly tickling his skin that wasn't covered by his shirt.

Your boyfriend always found you beautiful, whether when you were washing dishes with him and your hair was pinned up while your hands were covered with the thick pink rubber gloves.

Or whether it was when you dressed up for a date and you had makeup on that took almost an hour for you to do (which San knew took you a long time since you always put music on, and your 'jam sessions' always made it take longer).

But when you were under him in missionary, or even on top of him riding his cock, the expression you had contorted by bliss was his absolute favorite. He didn't care if your mascara smeared or if your hair clung to your forehead—he actually found it to make you look more beautiful as he fucked you raw, stretching your hole every time.

San was snapped back to reality from being mesmerized by your simple being when you stuttered out in the tone of voice he recognized all too well, "I'm close!"

"You wanna cum, angel?" Wooyoung asked, enjoying how you were writhing, and San had to physically keep you in place.

"Yes, yes, yes. Please~" you begged, the constant high setting making you lose your mind.

It was as if you could feel every nerve in your body reacting to the toy, making your mind feel hazy from the sensations. You let out a squeal when San put one of his hands atop yours, pushing the Hitachi further onto your clit, making you gasp aloud.

You could feel your wanton hole continuing to release your wet arousal, surely leaving a small stan on San’s crotch by now. A part of you felt embarrassed—humiliated from the way your body was subconsciously reacting, but that was the exact point of this punishment.

"Good..." he trailed, "Then, stop."

"Wha—what?" you asked, feeling genuinely high from the rapture.

"Stop." he repeated, now more stern than the first time. "Lift the wand off your pussy, turn it off, and set it down."

“Come on, sweetheart. Do as your told.” San tutted, despite pulling the vibrator out of your hands and turning it off, setting it back down on the table where it was before. Like he was ridiculing you.

You gulped, feeling more prone to the air conditioning’s breeze seeing that you were much more wet than before. Your now gleaming pussy was presented to the screen, your quivering eyes able to see its shine through the self-view because of the light reflecting off the drenching amount you had subconsciously produced.

“Your punishment’s not done yet, doll.” Yeosang piped up, his small grin showing the little canines he had. You always thought that he had pretty teeth, but seeing them this way reminded you that he wasn’t here as your friend today, but as another dominant.

“What … what else do I have to do?” you hesitatingly asked, twiddling with the ends of your shirt as San still kept your legs in place, spread upon like they all wanted.

“Hmm, it’s less about what you have to do, but rather more towards what you have to take.” Seonghwa quipped, the oldest man biting his tongue before continuing to speak again, “Right, Sannie?”

“That’s right~” your boyfriend cooed, placing his chin on your shoulder before laying a devastatingly sweet kiss on your neck, “Mingi, why don’t you do the honors of telling us what happens next?”

“My pleasure,” the man’s deep timbre evidently different than the rest, perhaps raising goosebumps on your skin from how attractive he sounded. Just like Wooyoung, he greeted you first, “Hello, pretty girl.”

“H—hi.” you responded, eyes locked on Mingi’s section of the screen, “Hi, Mingi.”

“Are you ready?” he waited for you to nod, which you did, “Great. So, what’s going to happen now is San’s going to finger that sinfully wet hole you call your cunt…”

His degrading comment making you clench around nothing, liking how his voice sounded as he continued to speak,

“But again, you won’t cum. You will not cum, and if you manage to obey our orders until your punishment is done, only then will San fuck that preciously tight hole of yours. Understood?”

“Will I get to cum then?” your question filled with actual concern, edging being your least favorite punishment to take.

“Of course. It’s only fair.”

You hated men sometimes, especially when they were so cocky about sex. However, you couldn’t give a solid argument when they were all already making you awfully flustered.

As you pursed your lips at Mingi’s words, absorbing the situation, San’s hot breath hit your ear once again. You could feel his lips moving from how close he was, soft and supple, juxtaposing the filth produced by his conscience.

“Keep that in mind, princess.” he chuckled, starting to circle your swollen clit from the vibrator, making you hitch, “Daddy and his friends are only going to let you cum if you can hold in your orgasm.”

“I… I can do it.” you didn’t know if you were telling yourself that or San, either way it was to reassure yourself that you could, in fact, do it.

“Okay~” without warning, at the end of the ‘okay’, he easily slipped two fingers into your previously empty pussy.

Using his ring and middle finger, San slowly began to teasingly move in and out of you, pleased by the whimpers coming out of your throat.

“You hear that?”

“H—hear what?” you cluelessly asked, not understanding what San was referencing to.

“This.”

Just as he said that, he repeatedly, and not so gently, moved his fingers in a come-hither motion, your special spot having been found easier than usual because of the vibrator use from before.

“Oh my—fuck.” you mewled, now understanding what he meant as your eyes slightly rolled back from the sudden bliss.

The squelching of your wet pussy was music to his ears, and to the seven other men eagerly watching, being one of his favorite sounds to hear whenever he fingered you. To say the least, Choi San was the closest thing you knew to a sexual deviant—an incubus.

“Don’t cum.” he commanded through gritted teeth.

“What a pretty pussy~” without looking, since you were too busy not being able to control your body’s trembling, you knew Hongjoong was the one making the compliment.

“It is, isn’t it?” San replied for you, his palm now being used to grind against your clit while still finger-fucking you, “And it’s all fucking mine. Who does this cunt belong to again, darling? I think you need to remind daddy.”

Little shit, you thought. If only this cocky asshole wasn’t such a good boyfriend who was the best sex you’ve ever had.

“Yours daddy!” you gasped out, unfortunately writhing as you badly needed to snap the knot in your abdomen, “A—all yours.”

“Don’t cum, sweetheart~” he reminded you once again, this time in a sing-songy tone that made you tense your jaw. “Ask nicely to daddy’s friends if you want me to stop. Or else I won’t stop at all and you’ll have to hold in your carnal desires.”

Swallowing the courage down your throat, you knew that would sound fucked out, but what did it matter anymore? Your orgasm and getting to have your boyfriend’s cock in you mattered more.

After all, you were Choi San’s personal slut.

“Pl—lease. I can’t handle thi—is anymore,” some of your words were elongated from a choked moan you tried to keep down, “Please, please I can’t handle daddy’s fingers any—any more. Can’t hold it in—ah—I’ll cum.”

“Awe, dollface, you can’t even get proper words out,” Seonghwa spoke, taunting you, “You really can’t take it anymore, huh? Can’t wait to get fucked stupid by your daddy?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck yes~” your pride now completely out the window.

“I think we should let her have Sannie now, don’t you all agree?” Wooyoung now asked, gleaming when the rest on screen nodded or simply smirked, “Alright, the agreement’s in your favor, angel.”

Purposefully slow, San pulled his fingers out of your pussy, making you squeeze around nothing at the sudden emptiness. You watched as he showed off his glistening hand to you and the screen, separating the two fingers that were just in you, causing you to see your own arousal stretch as it had coated his hand.

“Open.” San was referencing your mouth, which you understood immediately, seeing that you two had done something like this more than once.

Surrounding his fingers with your luscious lips, your sucking to get every drop off him was obnoxiously hot, making San smile as he silently thought ‘that’s my girl’.

As per usual, you kept the cum on your tongue. Turning your head slightly, one of your hands cupped San’s jaw as you batted your eyes, your mascara-painted lashes complimenting the faux innocence in them.

You stuck your tongue out, only a little bit, just enough for San to still be able to kiss you while sucking on it. As if collecting every bit, when he was done, he licked his lips and whispered to you,

“Always so sweet for me.”

A whispered, but still hearable “holy shit” came out of Jongho’s mouth, his eager eyes watching you both, amazed at the sheer raw and sexual connection that was being shown by the web cam.

“You want daddy’s cock, princess?” San asked once again, beginning to slightly buck up his hips, crotch still clothed and damp from your arousal.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Unzip me.” talking about his still zipped pants, which you quickly scrambled to smoothly undo with one hand, “Good girl, you can have it.”

With the same hand, you took his dick out, pleased by the bit of pre-cum that was clearly coating his tip, assuring you more, even with how agonizingly hard he already was, that San was having just as good of a time.

He was fully supporting your body, your other hand clutching onto one of the chair’s arms just incase. You took his hardened member and first rubbed against it, slicking it with your own cum like you were marking your rightful territory.

And after just a few pleasurable hits on your clit, you finally pulled back just enough to let the tip come in first, slowly, but in such a needy manner, sinking down San’s cock like you were dependent on it.

Like your pussy was molded and shaped for just his cock.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction, feeling like you were getting the fill you needed since the start. San was stretching you open just enough to make the pain melt with pleasure, feeling good like it usually did.

“Stay right there for a second, darling.”

And before you could register what San meant by that, your shirt was getting pulled over your tits, rolled up to your chest to reveal the rest of your body.

“God, those must be nice to play with, huh San?” Yunho half-jokingly remarked, enjoying the sight of your bare breasts, visibly scanning your body as his friend’s cock was filling you to the brim.

“Oh, surely they’re the best.” San spoke as if you weren’t there, “Absolutely love fucking myself between them. You should let me do that more often, Y/N.”

“San.” you slightly scolded, clearly distracted by the cock inside you. You were a tad worn out from the denied orgasms, but having your boyfriend at least start to fuck you was sure as hell making you stay aware.

This was what you wanted from the start. Ever since the first denial.

“Okay, darling. Give daddy a minute.”

You could feel San move his grip elsewhere, shifting his hands to the back of your knees, bending your legs towards your body.

From the new angle, you could his hips pushing rougher than before, cock reaching deeper, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the change.

“Shit.” you swore, the profanity serving as a sign that you were liking the feeling, your own hands moving to your tits to hold them.

“You’re squeezing awfully tight around me, sweetheart. Missed daddy’s cock that much?” the cocky tone oozing out of San’s lips, but it wasn’t like he was wrong anyway.

Not wanting any more delay, surely only wanting to have him pound you mindless, the words flowed out of your mouth like a mantra for all eight of the men;

“Missed daddy’s cock so, so much. Can’t wait for you to fuck me stupid, until the only things I can think about are daddy and his friends watching me desperately cum.”

“Goddamn, you don’t even talk this dirty with just the two of us.” San spat, liking this new attitude of yours, “My girlfriend’s that much of a whore to only get like this when daddy’s friends are around, huh?”

“Mhm~” you teased back, pushing on whatever inches were left exposed of San’s cock into your pussy, lips pouted as you spoke to taunt him, “After all, isn’t that what daddy likes about me?”

“You know exactly what to say to rile me up, baby.” he admitted, holding you tighter, “You better hope you can walk tomorrow, slut.”

And before you could register his words, San’s hips acted for him, having his body go absolutely feral, bucking into you with his cock like it was the first time he ever had a feel of your pussy.

Quicker than expected, your mind grew blank, taking in the man’s pounding like you wanted, only thinking of the moments of when his cock was out of you, and when it came back in to hit your g-spot.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Deliciously devouring every inch of your hole, hitting just the edge of your cervix, and satisfyingly filling your walls.

The chair was creaking, making sounds just as much as the two of you were. Surely, the neighbors might complain again tomorrow, but you could blame it on one of your very aggressive sessions of ‘gameplay’.

“How the fuck is your cunt still so tight from the millions of times I’ve fucked you before, huh? Is your excitement to have my friends—shit,” cutting himself off from the pleasure, “To have my friends watch you making you do this?”

“Y—yes, m’such a cumslut.” you moaned, playing with the buds on your tits, adding to the intensity, “I like that daddy’s friends are watching me—fuck I wanna cum so bad.”

“You wanna cum?”

“So bad~” you whimpered, voice an octave higher from how it usually was.

“Grab the Hitachi.”

You did as told, leaning forward to take the toy from the table, where San had previously placed it.

“Turn it on high.”

“A—again?” you asked, clutching the object tightly, just a few centimeters away from your sopping cunt.

“What? Nervous we won’t let you cum again, sweetheart?” Hongjoong teased, making you slightly scoff.

“No. You promised I could.” your interjection putting a smirk on all of their faces.

“We didn’t say if you were allowed to stop cumming once you start though, princess.” San added, beginning to relentlessly fuck into you again, “Come on, put it on high and play with your clit while daddy fucks you.”

You nervously, still doing as told, switched the setting to high, the excessively loud and strong buzzing noise taking over your ears, paired with your boyfriend’s animalistic thrusting that was hard to concentrate with.

Already in a bliss, the second you placed the vibrator on you, you squeezed around San, causing him to chuckle and let out a swear from his own pleasure.

You were already close to cumming before, and it seemed that they all knew this would bring you even closer.

Your eyebrows knitted together, eyes unfocused from the sensations, tits and legs shaking from the overwhelming feelings. Though you didn’t notice, drool was beginning to make its way past the corner of your lips as your mind could only focus on the rhythmic bucking of San’s hips and the constant vibrations.

“You’re so pretty like that, baby.” Jongho complimented, “All fucked out and you haven’t even cum yet.”

“I—I want to!” you replied, implying your desire for your release.

“If you want to cum, you better say thank you to Jongho for calling you pretty. Don’t be rude, brat. I taught you better.”

“Holy sh—shit.” the words you spoke barely even sounding right at this point, slurred from the pure bliss of sex you were feeling, “Tha—ank you!”

“Good girl,” San managed to say, somewhat still keeping his composure. Surely, he was absolutely enjoying every inch of your pussy, getting wetter and tighter the closer you were to cumming, “God, you’re just getting closer and closer, aren’t you?”

“Please, can I cum? Please, please, plea—“

His command cut you off, but you were pleased by it. Finally taking in your pleads to consideration, after mocking and teasing you this whole time, San’s smiled with darkened eyes as he spoke directly into your ear,

“Cum.”

Barely gripping the Hitachi, your entire composure slipped when your toes curled, chest trembling as you clenched your jaw, a silent scream wanting to escape as your release took over your body.

However, as the wave of pleasure washed over your body, it took you only a few seconds to realize that San wasn’t stopping. That the wave you were feeling was only going to go over you a few more times until he wanted to stop.

San didn’t cum with you.

You were already starting to feel like you were in overdrive, having been denied orgasms and finally given one, the fact that he wasn’t stopping was making you more fucked out than you had anticipated.

And just as you were about to drop the Hitachi, your boyfriend sternly demanded from you once again,

“Drop that, and I won’t cum inside you.”

How dare he deny you of your favorite part? But that was exactly what he wanted you to think. What he wanted you to be motivated by to keep taking him, keeping that vibrator on you as well.

“T—too much. Too much.” you repeated, the nerves of your clit almost painfully reacting to the vibrator still being on you, even after your orgasm. You were swelling around San’s cock, your body not having even gotten over your first high.

“If it’s too much, say your safe word then, slut.” he taunted, knowing damn well you wouldn’t.

Knowing damn well, deep down, you were enjoying this so much you didn’t want the night to end.

“Fu—uck~” you mewled, almost like a cat in heat, drunk on his cock.

“Daddy’s gonna cum, yeah? You want that?” you nodded at his words, “Of course you fucking want that. You want me to fill you to the brim, don’t you baby?”

“Fuck yes, yes!” you had to admit, adoring the feeling of whenever San came inside you, his cum painting the walls of your cunt like it was meant only for that.

“That’s right, that’s my good fucking angel.” he grunted, his thrusts getting a bit sloppy, but not weakening by any means, “Holy shit.”

With the last swear passing his lips, and a gasp coming out of yours, you both came at the same time, San even biting your shoulder (in the same place he usually did) as he released inside you.

Both of you took deep breaths, San’s a bit shakier than yours as you turned the Hitachi off, his hands now carefully letting your legs down. He pulled your skirt and shirt down for you, covering your bare body with the clothes again, as if it helped in any way (it did, you appreciated the gesture).

This time, you could see that the two of you almost looked normal in the personal camera view, as if a girlfriend was just sitting on a boyfriend’s lap, perhaps slightly sweaty.

In a post-coital tone of voice, cock still in you as if he had something up, he rolled the chair forward to come near the screen as he said;

“Sorry boys, seems like round two’s gonna happen offline.”

tag list : @hwaist @eternalhongshine @enivivs @mistateez @jin-neck-shaft @choisandilf @p-sychosanhwa @humorusgisselle @xduygu-arsx @sleepychimm @sparklesmingi @strhwaberryios @sexyteddycjh @katsukisilkbonnet @nctflix @yeunnudesss-blog @smuttysannie @plumejun

unable to be tagged : @tropicrown @atznoona @disgurstangshiet @xheny10936 @hugsx-kisseso

COLLEGESLUTS.COM — IDEA 686 | HHJ

Part one of the CSC series. You can find this series’ masterpost here. This can be read as a stand-alone, but you may have questions that will be answered in future installations. Keep in mind this is the intro.

There are three things you hate more than anything: 1. Your english Lit. professor, 2. Frat parties, and last but most definitely not least, 3. CollegeSluts.com and their founders. There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything: 1. College, 2. Back alley blowjobs, and 3. The frustrating desire to fuck you silly.

PAIRING: hyunjin x f!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers; smut; crack; angst; college au

WC: 17k…. fear me! (also broke my record!!)

WARNINGS: reader is going through it and will continue to go through it. there’s no development for them at all in this installment i apologize (😭) reader calls skz sex-crazed demons, she’s very confused but not irrational, there’s not many warnings besides for the smut— profanity, alcohol consumption, mentions of alcoholism, annoying characters, insanely inexperienced reader, bet making, one-sided hatred, hyunjin wants to figure you out & thank god for that otherwise this series wouldn’t exist, sexual tension bottled up as hate bc yn is stupid. virgin/corruption kink, loss of virginity, overstimulation, dirty talking, unprotected sex…, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, teasing, breast play, and i think that’s it…

A/N: hi angels, i finished this in three days somehow and even though i didn’t plan on this being my post for 400, we hit it recently so this is it! and it’s fitting since a lot of people are waiting for this series <3 I hope you enjoy the first installment, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, my ask box, or in a reblog! & lmk if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic or my permanent one which is linked below! i hate writing the introduction to a fic and if you feel like this entire one-shot is pointless i promise it’s not 😭 there’s a lot of drama to come soon but i had to establish some things first!

i managed to make a playlist for this series! please enjoy 👩🏾‍💻

mlist; taglist; navi; | ⇦ previous | next ⇨

There are three things you hate more than anything.

Your english lit. professor

Frat parties

last, but most definitely not least, collegesluts. com and it’s founders.

It’s the literal bane of your existence, the reason why it’s so hard for you to sleep at night, and the one thing that makes your skin itch even more than the fuzzy sweaters your grandma knits every winter season.

Maybe if the creator of the site wasn’t such a douchebag, and maybe if the site users weren’t even worse, you wouldn’t abhor it as much as you did. But that’s a lot of maybes— ones that create a reality much different than your own and don’t make you feel much better.

You were first introduced to the hellsite in your second year of college— only made a year before. After you found out, age twenty hanging high over your head and no longer a fresh face in the school system, you’d tried and failed to get it shut down. Multiple times.

Happy, carefree people, would just ignore its existence— get on with their life, allow people to be college sluts in peace, but you couldn’t do that. Only you saw it for what it was, right? A sex site for college-goers to ruin their lives before it even started. Everyone else was too blissed out, a hand shoved in their pants every night as they watched their classmates fuck each other without fail. Only you could really see—

“Hello, can you hear!?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the voice behind you and your shoulders tighten when a finger pokes harshly at your skin.

“What?” You groan, rubbing the section of your arm that was unjustly abused. “Can you just be nice like a normal person?”

“Well, you’re an asshole so why would I be nice to you?”

“Fuck off Seungmin. What do you want?”

The only thing that betrays the fact that he heard you at all is the laugh that echoes behind you. Your chest tightens in response, and you fold your arms over your chest.

Kim Seungmin. A close fourth on your list of things you hate more than anything else. He was one of the users on the-site-that-must-not-be-named. A platinum member actually, a fact that always made your skin burn even in the coldest of weather. He was even friends with the site creators, and you wouldn’t doubt he had a hand in making it completely. He’d never been shy in supporting his use of the site, because nowadays regular cam sites were somehow uncool. He even had shirts with the college sluts logo in big, bold, letters. He was a part of one of the things you couldn’t stand. A big part of it even, but you ignored all that so you could call him your best— and one of your only— friends.

Kim Seungmin is first on the things you love, and that automatically removes him from the list of things you hate. When an arm slings itself across your shoulders you barely react, simply steering you both in the direction of your first class. It’s too early to deal with your best friend, and especially his toothy remarks and sarcasm, but you don’t say so and simply allow him to talk your ear off while you concern yourself with more important things.

Things like Hwang Hyunjin and Christopher Bang. The admins of College Sluts and the cause of the twitch in your brow. Sometimes the amount of hatred you felt for the two amazed you. To others, they were college boys— hotter than most, smart, talented, promiscuous. They had a good personality, a future, and were people a lot of other people got along with (and their other friends but you won’t get into that lest you pop a vessel).

To you, it’s agree to disagree. In short, they’ve got everyone totally fooled. Only sex-crazed low lifes actually managed to create a porn site. It’s one thing to think of it, sprawled around their dorm rooms knocked off their ass and barely sober, but it’s another thing to actually do it— work hard on it, execute such ideas— it’s completely baffling to you. How can no one see how perverted that is? You don’t even know what to call it, but the fire that erupts in your gut is enough to tell you that it’s bad.

There’s a bunch of girls and guys crowding around them, laughing and hugging and touching. Touching as if they were in the privacy of their home and not outside where others could see. It makes your chest heat up, and makes weird maggots swallow up your stomach, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake. You hate it. They’re demons. Sex-crazed demons.

“God, I’m starting to think you’re like anti-sex or something.”

You grunt.

“Literally we’re just walking by and you look like you’re contemplating murder.”

You hum.

“Jesus,” Seungmin sighs, shaking his head before waving over at his friends. More like his sinner acquaintances. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not overly religious or particularly shameful— despite how you might seem— but it’s something about that entire group (Seungmin sometimes included) that makes you feel like breaking something. Choking something? Crying? Screaming? You’re not sure anymore.

When you catch Hyunjin’s eye he smirks and you frown. Just the sight of him is enough to make your head hurt and your knees weak. At least, that makes sense to you. The rest of the student body? Not so much.

You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and tear your gaze away from him. Your building isn’t much farther and if you squint really hard you can pretend you don’t see Hyunjin approaching from the corner of your eye. It’s a hot day and when he sidles up to you, shoulders almost touching, it gets much hotter.

“Hey,” he greets, slapping palms with Seungmin and holding one down low for you. Your hand hesitates, almost greeting him in return before you slap his arm and send a glare his way.

“Bye,” you grit, turning your head away from him and grabbing at Seungmin’s arm. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Loosen up!” He calls, his long legs easily catching up to your fast pace. “I just wanted to say hi to my favorite girl.”

Your breath stutters the tiniest bit but you ignore it, not bothering to grant that remark an answer. Hyunjin is flirty. Too flirty. Stupid flirty. The kind of flirty that gets girls like you all riled up even when you’re supposed to be hating him, even when you’re supposed to curse the very ground he walks on, and it just makes the dreadful maggots in your system start up their annoying fluttering.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything, even when your grip on his arm tightens at a painful rate. You will your heart to stop beating so damn hard and for your entire body to stop reacting so easily to him. You don’t even know him so why does he hold so much influence over you? Someone like him? Someone who spends their time and their intelligence on a haphazard college porn site? No. No way.

“What do you want, Hyunjin?”

The devil with the long brown hair, and soft cheeks, and cute dimples takes the chance to lean close to your ear, making sure you hear whatever it is he has to say.

“Don’t be too mad at me, bug. I just wanted to tell you that you look gorgeous today.” Hyunjin pats your cheek, smiling before he leans away, turning back the way he came.

“See you later.”

And that’s that. The sex demon comes to set your cheeks ablaze and leaves once he’s done, letting you deal with your muddled feelings on your own. Once you start walking again, ignoring the stare boring into your cheeks and the confusing pounding of your heart, there’s only three words on your mind.

Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.

There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything:

1. College

2. Back alley blowjobs

3. The frustratingly clear desire he has to fuck you silly.

Hyunjin isn’t sure when he realized it exactly. He doesn’t even know why he reacts to you so strongly. If you were anyone else he probably wouldn’t give you a second glance. He’s sure of it. Maybe it’s the desire to want something you can’t have, or the fact that you aren’t groveling at his feet.

It’s not like Hyunjin has any idea of why exactly you’re so hellbent on hating his guts, nor does he really care all that much. So you don’t like College Sluts, that’s your right as is anyone else’s, but it’s not like he’s shoving the damn shit in your face. He minds his business, manages his porn site, and does it all with a smile on his face. You, though? It’s a miracle he’s seen you smile once. And that was when he wasn’t paying attention and knocked into someone carrying a full tray of food.

Chan laughs at him all the time and so does Minho, wondering if he has some weird kink for wanting people who clearly don’t want him back, but more and more he’s thinking that isn’t the case. He’s always been bold, always been a bit flirty even when he wasn’t trying, and he knows he’s easy on the eyes. It’s not a secret, but your reaction to him isn’t one of disdain or clear attraction, but rather confusion, and that confuses him.

He flips the mic in his hands, switching between cradling it and flinging it every which way. The speakers of the karaoke system effectively drag him from his thoughts as the music gets louder and Jisung spins Felix around on their makeshift stage. Whoops and hollers echo from around them, the rest of their friends cheering at the performance in front of them. Hyunjin can’t bring himself to laugh even as a smile threatens to take hold of his features.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” Jisung plops down beside him, slinging an arm around Hyunjin's shoulders as puffs of breath leave his lips. “You’ve been sitting here brooding. What’s going on?”

“I don’t brood,” Hyunjin argues, though he maneuvers his body so he can tell Jisung exactly what has him brooding. “It’s just— I’m still thinking about Y/n.”

“Bro.”

“It doesn’t seem weird to you?”

“Weird that she’s just not interested? This is a new low, Hyunjin. Not everyone is gonna be attracted to you—”

“I know, but that’s not what I’m saying. Doesn’t her whole attitude towards us seem a bit excessive? All over a website.”

“It’s not your typical website.”

“Sung, it’s probably one of the safest porn sites out there because of how exclusive it is. No one but students here can get on it.”

“Does she know that?”

“That’s my point,” Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair before starting again. “If she doesn’t even know the full details of the site, how can she possibly hate it? Hate us?”

Jisung pauses, looking back towards the stage. It’s true that all eight of them have thought about this at least once. They know there’s people who hate the website, who steer clear of it in all instances, but none who have made petitions and gone to the superintendent requesting an audience about it. No one who’s actively been so hateful to them specifically, refusing to look in their direction unless it’s to send a glare their way.

“Maybe there's another reason?” Jisung offers, sending Hyunjin a sideways glance. “I mean, maybe she just hates porn.”

Hyunjin snorts at that. How can anyone hate porn?

“You’re laughing but I’m dead serious. Has she ever even had a partner?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

“You think about her 24/7. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew what she ate for breakfast.”

“Not fucking funny.”

Jisung barks out a laugh, falling over into Hyunjin’s space. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it soon.”

Hyunjin isn’t so sure but he nods anyway, allowing Jisung to go back to the stage for the next song. Hyunjin knocks back his drink, throat constricting barely at the bitter taste. He doesn’t care. He really doesn’t, but there’s something weird about your behavior and he’s more than determined to figure it out. Maybe he needs to just mind his business but fuck that, he thinks, no one is gonna hate him for no reason. Maybe he’s a little too riled up at that, maybe Jisung is right and this is a new low. Maybe he just really can’t deal with rejection well. Maybe.

Minho’s screeching into the mic does it’s hardest to ruin Hyunjin’s night, but the way the rest of his friends tackle him and attempt to steal the mic just makes him laugh, leaving a warm feeling in his chest. This is all he needs— his friends and a good drink to put a smile on his face. And the college porn site he worked very hard on, of course.

The group only gets through a few more songs before they decide to leave, deciding to ignore the fact that some of them have classes in six hours or that they’ll be nursing a bad headache for the entirety of it. Hyunjin is one of them. He laughs along with his friends as they walk, and he watches them from where he stands in the back.

Jisung has his phone out and is making a concerned face, typing furiously on the device. Either they’re having technical issues or his girlfriend is getting on his ass once again. Minho has an arm slung around his shoulders, laughing at whatever it is he’s typing and whoever it is that’s typing back. Next to them Felix and Jeongin have joined hands and Felix swings them back and forth, giggling as he does. Jeongin pretends he doesn’t like it, like usual, but Hyunjin notices the hint of a smile on his face. He always notices.

Chan and Changbin are quiet on either side of him, walking in the tranquil quiet that’s always rare for their group. It feels incomplete— Hyunjin wishes Seungmin could’ve come. He doesn’t know how the boy manages to be friends with the creators of the CSC and also be friends with its #1 hater. Maybe he’s selling secrets, telling you everything about the site, all its loopholes and glitches. Maybe he’s working against them now, coming up with a plan to shut them down once and for all, though Hyunjin doesn’t know if that’s possible.

Right after those thoughts trickle into his mind, he thinks about Seungmin wearing the handmade “merch” for the site, and doesn’t entertain them any longer. It would be ridiculous— even for him— to think that someone who repped college sluts like it was their brand would ever work even harder to tear it away.

The knot in his throat that’s been squeezing at his airways since earlier that night relaxes just a little. He’s never actually said this to anyone, but just as much as he thinks about why you hate him, he thinks about whether Seungmin will hate him too; about if he’ll lose a friend due to reasons he’s not even sure of. As much as he thinks about why you hate him so badly, he thinks about why he doesn’t hate you right back. He wonders why he— instead of wanting nothing to do with you— wants to know everything about you. Why he wants to understand you when you’ve made no effort to understand him, or worse, made up your own mind about who he is without even attempting to entertain the idea that maybe you’re wrong.

Hyunjin has lived his whole life suffering from other people's ideas of him, from their expectations that they held with no prior consultation with him, from the perfect picture of him in their minds that didn’t correlate with the real Hyunjin. He’s had his fair share of wondering, thinking, wanting. And it’s disappointing to see how even after all this time, since childhood, nothing has changed. He’s always wanted what he’s not allowed to have, but it’s not for lack of trying.

They don’t arrive at their frat house quick enough. As soon as the door opens into the building Hyunjin feels like falling asleep on the couch. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’s also not sure what last happened on that couch. Between spilled drinks and sex that was too rushed to even make it to a bedroom he’d rather take his chances on an actual bed. Chan doesn’t bother to turn the lights on when he comes in, and the seven of them shuffle around each other, spilling into the living room or into the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks as if they didn’t just come back from eating.

Hyunjin knows he’s been distant all night but he can’t be bothered to care as he sends a quick good night his friends’ way and makes his way upstairs. The house holds eight other boys besides them and he’s surprised none of them are downstairs or hanging around even at the late hour. Though, Hyunjin reasons, most of them have girlfriends and the few others that don’t are seniors and probably pull all-nighters in the library or some shit.

Hyunjin doesn’t want to think about that. The year only started back up again a few months ago, he doesn’t need to be thinking about work anymore than he already does. He makes a good living even without a real job, so he’s taking shit day by day. It’s not like anyone else is much different. Most of his seniors are cramming because they were so carefree. Hyunjin doesn’t think about the implications of that either.

The softness of his bed is long overdue and his body sinks into the plush bedding. He strips off his shirt and pants, not bothering to make his way to a shower or put pajamas on or do anything really. He has five hours before he needs to wake back up and this is nothing if not a power nap that won’t help him get through any lectures the next day. Or, later that day rather.

Hyunjin doesn’t concern himself with that though, because there’s only one thing that’s on his mind when he falls asleep and when he wakes up, and that’s what he’s going to say to you tomorrow morning in the first class of the day.

The first thing you manage to think of when you wake up is how best you’re going to ignore Hyunjin today. You’ve been brainstorming, wondering which response will humble him the best, maybe make him speechless for long enough that you can get away. If only those getaways could last forever, you sigh, pulling a fitted tee over your head. It’s low-cut, makes your cleavage pop just a little bit more, and you add a necklace for that exact reason.

You’re not the sex-crazed demon that the CSC most definitely are, but you do like a little attention every now and again even if you don’t get that much action. Or any, really, and you’re just fine with that. It’s one of the reasons why you don’t like the CSC. There’s no reason to sexify everything, and that’s exactly what they do. People can get by just fine without it.

Just fine? Seungmin would probably jab, but he’s not here right now and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You are just fine, but the mention of the-site-that-must-not-be-named just fills your stomach with stones and ignites your nerves like nothing else does. To you, that’s more than enough proof that it’s the CSC’s fault— not yours.

Anyway, today is the day you have to see Hyunjin bright and early, which always manages to set your day off to a bad start. No one should have to deal with him at this time of day, or any time of day, and you pity the ones that do. Seeing Chan isn’t rare, but he doesn’t talk to you like Hyunjin does. He stares every now and again, gives you a lazy smirk, and is generally sexy as much as it pains you to admit it, but he doesn’t bother you. Though you know he probably talks about you. His stares are too knowing, way too insightful even when you don’t really know each other.

The rest of the boys you’ve talked to on a few occasions. They aren’t as insufferable, but they are associated with Hyunjin and Chan and are, in fact, involved in the upkeep of the-site-that-must-not-be-named. To you, that’s more than enough reason to at the least dislike them. You don’t hold soft spots for any of them, except maybe Felix who seems way too sweet to be a sex demon, but then again, it’s always the nice ones.

Besides, it doesn’t matter what they say to you or don’t say, or if they look at you or not, or if they even know you exist. It really doesn’t matter. You shake the thoughts from your head vigorously, ashamed at the fact that you spent the first hour of your morning on them. It’s unbecoming of you. It’s good to remind yourself not to actively concern yourself with any of them, and simply fight for the site’s demolition like you’ve been doing.

Seungmin says you have no life, but Seungmin also wears T-shirts with cartoonish, glittery pink boobs and the site’s name in glittery cursive letters. You don’t think Seungmin should have an opinion.

The last time you attempted to do anything about the site was roughly two months ago, a month after school started back. You took your time to settle in, fall into a routine, and get your work and classes in order before resuming your mission. It was arduous, brainstorming and juggling school work, but it was your responsibility since no one else would work hard enough.

A quick shuffle through any of your things would tell people you were a perfectionist— articulate in your placement of items and the way you did things. Even taking the time to plan certain outings to a T, determined to make sure everything goes well. It’s not a secret how obsessive you get over things and how uncomfortable or incomplete you feel when things don’t go your way, when you have to follow someone else’s idea of how things should work. It’s the reason why most people don’t get along with you because to them you’re too controlling, too compulsive and dominating.

When you were a child that fact had bothered you. It was confusing— that was just your nature, and you wouldn’t have survived your childhood without it based on the way your parents lived. When kids would shun you, treat you like something sticky at the bottom of their shoe, it hurt your young heart. You felt apologetic simply for acting the way you always felt like you should act, for doing the things that left you satisfied after. Now, in college, no one demands classmates to get along, no one can shun you in the cafeteria and force you to eat in the library. If they don’t like you it’s fine with you, frankly it doesn’t matter. You have one goal and one goal only, and once that’s over with you can move on.

When you step out of your dorm the sun is blinding, shining down with unforgiving rays of light. All you can do is squint, tilt your head down a little and wish you had a hat. The walk to the Art’s building is long, but feels longer with how warm it is. The heat shimmies its way under your clothes and into your skin, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

The scenery on the walk there is always breathtaking though, the pavement that makes up the pathway to the building is closed in by blades of grass that have been cut and trimmed to perfection. Rocks make up the border between them— large smooth stones that vary in size but are more or less the same oval shape. There’s an entire garden full of all types of flowers, Gardenias, Lilies, Irises, Tulips, and even some you can’t name. At the entrance of the building there are bright lights that illuminate at least 25 feet in front of it at night, and wide hedges that have been designed to look like swans, their necks curved in a way that if they were moved next to each other they’d be forming a heart. White flowers grow inside the hedges serving to make the entire scene look more beautiful, and as much as you hate walking there, the view is unmatched.

The Art building has always been your safe haven, Art in general being your home away from home. It took a long time for you to feel comfortable studying it— always caught up in the what if. What if you can’t make a living from it? What if you end up not liking it as you grow older? What if it’s not a sustainable career? Questions that still plague you often, and stop you from putting as much of your heart in it as you’d wish. These classes are somewhat self-indulgent. A way for you to escape from the hectic mess that is your life, away from the stress of work, from the anxiety of what comes next, and from the infuriating instances that continue without your control— away from the things you can’t control so you can run to things you can. So imagine your horror when you found out Hwang Hyunjin was in the same class as you. At the same time. Doing the same thing.

It felt like your escape wasn’t yours anymore, and that the stress from your day followed you everywhere you went. It wasn’t enough for Hyunjin to pester you often— he had to be everywhere you were too.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, setting your shoulders and regain the poise you take pride in– carrying yourself with the confidence you wish you had. It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the entrance of the building, as you walk, having been kissed by the scorching light of the sun and brushed against by dewy blades of grass. It feels surreal and staggering to be outside alone so early in the morning, yet peaceful, for you know that it will be long before you get this chance again.

“Bug!”

Oh no. no no no. You walk faster, hoping to make it inside before Hyunjin can catch up to you. Hyunjin is never this early. He either comes right on time or late to the frustration of your teachers and peers although no one would ever say it to his face. You can hear his feet against the pavement louder and louder as he comes closer to you, catching up just when you take the first step up the stairs to the entrance.

“You didn’t hear me, bug?”

“Stop calling me bug.”

“Sorry, bug,” Hyunjin laughs, putting a heavy arm over your shoulders and bringing you closer.

You roll your eyes so hard it feels like they’re gonna stick. Maybe they should so you don’t ever have to see Hyunjin again. Maybe he’d think you look scary like that, your eyes rolled up forever. Maybe then he’d leave you alone.

Hyunjin is annoying. He always acts like you’re his friend, but you know it’s fake because why would he want to be friends with you, someone who hates everything he works hard on and hates him as well to an extent. It seems overly fake and forced to you, so you don’t ever entertain it. The last thing you need is to fall for it and then be made out to look like an idiot when he eventually embarrasses you.

“It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early, pretty.”

“It’s always too early to be dealing with you,” You groan, wrenching his arm away from where it laid over your shoulders. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asks, seemingly unaffected by your attitude towards him. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his shoulders raised up to his chin in a shrug. “I like talking to you.”

You snort, looking up at him with eyebrows raised, “You like talking to me, the one person— possibly in this world— who absolutely hates you, and barely spares you the time of day?” You ask, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’m sure this is the longest we’ve ever had a conversation, but nice try.” You squeeze his cheeks, hard, and when he swats your hand away you can’t help the giggle that you let out. If his cheeks felt like dough under your fingers you’re choosing to ignore that, wiping a hand on your jeans with way more intensity than needed.

“But see,” Hyunjin starts again, “We’re having a conversation right now and neither of us wanna choke each other.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m barely resisting the urge to punt your head like a baseball.”

It’s silent for a moment before you both burst out into a fit of giggles. Hyunjin braces himself against his knees as he laughs, his hair falling over his face as he does, and you’re not much better— staggering where you stand to laugh with him. It only takes a few seconds for you both to calm down, and slowly the reality of what happened catches up to you.

“Do you even punt baseballs?” Hyunjin snorts, and you just laugh harder.

“I don’t know, Hyunjin, if you haven’t noticed I’m at the arts building not sports.” You wheeze, fighting through another laugh. “Now I’m just imagining your head flying over the gardens.”

Hyunjin lets out another chuckle but shivers a bit at the thought. He waits for you to calm down, your giggles turning into small huffs. A hint of a smile still remains on your cheeks, and the sun shines down so strongly on your features it feels like he’s seeing an angel— like divinity right in front of his eyes. When you straighten up, he can see every movement. The way you position your bag upright, the way a bit of your gums poke out from your lips. Your lips, soft, glossy, and look the most perfect in a smile. He can see the way your eyebrows lose the tension from your laughing fit, the way the crinkle of your eyes lessen as your face relaxes. He can see everything, so he can also see when your lips fall back into a firm line, when your eyebrows go back to that angry stance they always hold when you’re around him. The way your shoulders stiffen, and the grip on your bag tightens. He can see everything, and he reminds himself the only time you laugh is when he’s the butt of the joke.

“I’m going to class,” You murmur, walking the rest of the way up the stairs and into the building without looking back or waiting for him to respond. Though Hyunjin wonders what he would’ve even said.

I’ll come with you.

We can sit together.

No, you both can’t do anything together, and more and more Hyunjin wonders why he even wants to.

“You were laughing with Hwang Hyunjin? The sex demon??” Your friend hisses from next to you, stringing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You?”

“Yes, me, Jieun.” You huff. “I can barely believe it either. What did he do to me? I hate him, I can’t show weakness by laughing around him.”

“Honey,” Jieun laughs, leaning towards you, “You can laugh. Honestly the fact that you ran away after is hilarious.”

“I didn’t run away.”

“You ran away.”

“I didn’t run.”

Jieun settles on you with a heavy stare, face slack, and you roll your eyes. “Fine, I walked away.”

“I don’t know how either of you take each other seriously.”

“I don’t take him seriously.”

“Yeah you do, babe. You refuse to laugh around him. That’s very serious.”

You snort.

“And the fact that he gives you the time of day when this is the dumbest feud possible… I just don’t understand it.”

“It’s not dumb.” You sputter, smoothing your hand over the glossy wooden desk of the classroom. “It’s…” You trail off, staring into the large windows at the side of the room. You cock your head and lean forward, jaw slack when the sex demon himself waves outside. “Oh what a stalker.” You growl, throwing up the middle finger in his direction. “He’s got his little posse following him too.”

When Jieun makes to wave back you smack the back of her head and groan when she gives you an affronted look.

“What was that for?” Jieun exclaims, bringing a hand up to rub against the back of her head.

“Don’t fraternize with the enemy,” You hiss, folding your arms over your chest and staring back at your professor.

“Are you gonna explain the feud—”

“No.”

In your opinion, class doesn’t end quickly enough. You split with Jieun at the entrance, the both of you going in opposite directions, and attempt to reorder your frazzled mind. So you laughed. A lot of people laugh at people they hate. Plus, he laughed too— so why should you be overthinking it? You’ve laughed before, in situations you weren’t supposed to, and this is no different. Now you just need to make sure it never happens again. You nod to yourself as you walk, pulling out your phone to make sure Seungmin is already at the meeting spot.

The sun is still just as ruthless as it was earlier, but a light breeze grazes your skin and rustles the trees along the sidewalk and in the field in front of you. There’s a bunch of picnic tables, some occupied and some of them not. There’s groups of friends sitting under trees, some couples, some of them alone; reading or completing assignments in the nice weather. You spot Seungmin a few tables down, a brown sweater over a collared shirt and cute glasses perched upon his nose.

You take your time walking to the table, letting your skin soak in the warmth and tranquil peace of nature. When Seungmin spots you he shuffles over, giving you some space to sit next to him and you do, mumbling a small hey before knocking your head against the table.

“You’re going to a party with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Seungmin… Hi, how are you? How was your day? No, I’m not.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Well, unless you’re going to drag me, no I’m not.”

“I just might,” Seungmin sighs, “Why are you so difficult?”

“Difficult? You’re the one being difficult. I don’t want to go and you’re telling me it’s not a choice.”

“Because it’s not.”

You let out a groan, a long torturous one that has people turning their head to a straight faced Seungmin and you who’s head is still knocked against the table. When people think it’s stopped it starts all over again, a guttural groan filled with displeasure and frustration that loosens your chest when it’s done.

“Are you done?”

“Leave me alone.”

“It’s on Saturday. I can pick you up.” Seungmin says instead of arguing.

“Today’s Thursday.” You whine, just stopping yourself from letting out another groan— one that wouldn’t ever stop for as long as you have to deal with Kim Seungmin and his annoying, snarky, bossy self.

“…. I’m aware.” Seungmin says, and you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s making a face like and so what?

“I can’t stand you, I hope you know that. No type of warning, no preparation… I don’t party. I need at least two weeks to mentally prepare myself and another two weeks to get an outfit.”

“Damn.” Seungmin says, but he rubs a hand against your back, lightly pushing you to lift your head from the table. “Listen, I’ll help you. And it’s being thrown by people I know so you don’t have to worry. I don’t think many people throw college parties a month in advance but I’ll keep that in mind.”

All you can do is nod, waiting patiently as Seungmin finishes whatever assignment he’s working on. You’ve already completed the ones you have, the pro of not having much else to do and being on top of things always. Everyday you both meet up here, either at a table or under one of the trees and talk. Read, finish assignments, or even eat snacks. There have been some times where you meet there and then go somewhere else together, rarely off campus but it happens, and you get something to eat or go on a mini adventure. It’s the highlight of your day and you’re sure it is for Seungmin too, but you’d never admit that to each other. You don’t have to, though, because you’re both always on the same wavelength especially when it counts the most.

Though now he’s given you something else to worry about, that being this sudden party. It’s no doubt being held by a frat house, and you have an inkling which house it is. You haven’t asked, trying not to pop the bubble of secureness that surrounds you. You can go to a party being held by the CSC. You can, and you will, and if it isn’t being held by them then that’s even better. You try to convince yourself you really don’t care at all, but the thought remains. Can you really enjoy yourself at a party being held by them? You don’t know why it bothers you so much or why you feel so uncomfortable having a good time around them, but you just keep repeating the same thing to yourself over and over. It doesn’t matter.

“Jieun told me what happened this morning.”

“Of course she did.” You sigh, staring ahead at the group of squirrels running up a tree. The people under it startle when leaves start to fall over their heads. “We just left each other, how did she find the time to text you all that?”

“She called me,” Seungmin cackles, braces on full display as he scribbles furiously into his notebook. “Every story I hear about you and Hyunjin is against my will.”

“Every interaction between me and Hyunjin is against my will,” You counter, shifting so that you face him. “What did she say?”

“That you laughed with him and it embarrassed you. That you’re confused about your feelings towards him.”

“So are you two my therapists now? I’m not confused. I don’t like the things he does— I don’t like his carefree attitude, how he has no problem talking to me like we’re friends. I don’t like- No, I hate the fact that so many people fucking praise him because he created some crude porn site.”

Your heart rate picks up, your hand gripping at your jeans as a poor attempt to conceal your growing frustration. “I don’t like the fact that no one else sees what’s wrong with it. We shouldn’t have a fucking porn site for college students? I don’t think we should know what we all look like under our clothes and I’m tired of everyone acting like I'm the crazy one. He’s the perverted one, the weird one. Who the fuck thinks of something like that? It’s not just him, it’s all of them.”

Seungmin ponders your words, the grip on his pen tightening ever so slightly. “Hyunjin is a good guy. All of them are, and if that’s how you feel then why do you talk to me? I use the site, I'm their friend, I’ve helped them out when making it. Aren’t I weird and perverted too?”

You sigh, “Seungmin…”

“Help me understand. Because if you can stand to be around me, then why can’t you be around them? Or try.”

“It isn’t the same and you know it. It’s easy to ignore it when it’s you. That’s them. They are the CSC to me. A reminder of everything I hate, what I want to get rid of.”

“But why the hell does it matter? People want to use the site and that’s why they do. No one is fucking forcing it.”

“You guys just don’t understand it. None of you do. It’s like you’re blinded by it or something.”

“We’re grown adults, Y/N,” Seungmin growls, “We don’t need you to be a guardian fucking angel.”

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy, just because all you fucking care about is sex or some college sluts, like can you actually be that shallow?”

“Why is it so hard for you to see reason? Do you see how angry you’re getting at me for asking a simple question? You asked me what Jieun said and I told you.” Seungmin spits, shutting his book with a slam.

“Stop asking me about that site. Stop making me seem like some confused hateful person just because you’re too dense to understand where I’m coming from. I’m not confused, I know exactly how I feel. I try not to bring it up because you like the damn thing so much, and you can’t seem to hold the same courtesy for me.” You stand from the seat, settling a dark glare at Seungmin’s angered form.

“Fuck your friends, fuck that site. Stop talking about me like I need guidance.”

You’re not irrational. You’re not. You have every right to be angry. Seungmin is your friend. Jieun is your friend. They’re supposed to be there for you, not gang up on you. You feel alone, so alone in everything you fight for, in everything you aim to conquer— as if the things you stand for don’t matter. It reminds you of middle school all over again, of high school— having people look at you like you were something from another planet. Someone people had always failed to understand. It’s lonely. You’re not irrational.

You didn’t blow up. You’re not angry. You’re frustrated, yes, but you don’t blow up. You don’t get mad. You aren’t irrational. Anyone else in your position would feel the same, right? Anyone else would be upset because it feels like your friends always take the side of the people you despise more than anyone else. Why aren’t they on your side? Why don’t they believe you? Why don’t they understand? It makes you feel stupid. It makes you feel like you have no right to feel the way you do. It’s lonely.

You’ve never been irrational. You’ve always had a good grip on your feelings. Always. And when it feels like the grip loosens it’s always the cause of something relating to the CSC. It’s proof that it’s what the root of your problems is. It’s proof that the CSC needs to be gone so you can finally go back to normal. So you don’t feel like the odd one out. So you don’t have to feel so upset. Because you’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way. You don’t get mad. You’re not angry. You don’t blow up.

You control everything, you control your actions, your emotions, and you make sure to hold control over your environment— of how things play out for every second of your life. This feels like it’s running out of control. That the CSC brings havoc in your life no matter what— even when you try to ignore it, it comes running back to fuck you over even further. You’re not irrational. You’re not confused. You don’t get mad. You don’t. You don’t blow up. You control everything.

The sun hides right when you need it. You pretend tears don’t blur your vision, you pretend that the suddenly gloomy environment doesn’t affect you the way it does. You pretend that the once comforting breeze doesn’t feel sharp against your exposed skin. You pretend because when things run out of control that’s all you can do. Pretend you’ve got it handled, pretend that you still have a grip on things, pretend that you understand. You’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way.

You never argue with Seungmin. Playful bickering from time to time or you two being rude to each other but always playfully. You’ve never cursed at him so maliciously, spoken to him like he was someone random, as if he wasn’t your best friend. You’ve never done those things— but you do when the CSC is involved. You never get pissed at Jieun, even when she’s annoying, even when she acts like the only thing important in life is the new boy she’s talking to— You don’t get mad. You’re not mad now, but you’re something. Something fiery, and everything always goes back to the CSC. You’re not irrational. You’re just the only one who understands.

Right when you see the blurry form of your dorm building it gets blocked by a large body and you slam right into its chest. You can barely see in front of you and you know your face is screwed up into the worst form imaginable, tears falling with no control. Without your control.

“Sorry, excuse me,” You laugh wetly, sidestepping whoever is blocking your way and running up the steps to your dorm. The sooner you fall into your bed and cry this out, the sooner you can forget about it. The sooner you can apologize and move past this weird limbo of feelings. It feels like purgatory, stuck in the in between, not sure which direction you’ll end up going in. It’s full of unsureness, of frustration. It feels like a loss of control. It angers you, makes you feel like nothing is going right.

But you don’t get angry. You’re not irrational. You don’t get mad. You pretend, because that’s all you can do.

Hyunjin is confused.

The last thing he expected to see this morning was you laughing, but now, he realizes the last thing he ever expected to see was you crying. Eyes glossy with tears, a nose rubbed raw, face screwed up into something pitiful.

Hyunjin doesn’t know a lot of things. He doesn’t expect a lot of things, but most of all he doesn’t know how to continue after seeing it. He doesn’t expect to care so much, not after the way you’ve regarded him. After the way you’ve both regarded each other. He doesn’t know why he can’t walk away and say nothing when he knows he should. If he brings it up you’ll get defensive, be embarrassed, be angry. He shouldn’t say anything.

He keeps walking, frowning slightly at the gloomy clouds. It was so sunny less than an hour ago. Things change so quickly, it doesn’t make any sense. He thinks back to earlier that morning, the light that shone on your face with every laugh you let out. He thinks back to just a few seconds ago. How dark shadows fell over your face as tears ran down your cheeks.

The walk is more automatic than anything else. He doesn’t take the time to stare at the scenery, he doesn’t look at the people around him. He barely sees the ground in front of him as he walks, his mind not registering what’s right in front of his face. He’s too caught up in you. Like usual, wondering why you do the things you do, why you feel the way you feel, wanting to understand. What did he do? What can he do to make you feel better? How can he make you hate him any less? He wants to understand, he wants to listen, to talk to you, to be near you. It confuses him.

His phone vibrates, pulling him from his thoughts. It’s chan, texting about the party on Saturday, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He’s so tired, tired of running around for parties, tired of attending to the site, tired of waking up early for classes. He just wants a second to sit down and relax, to not worry about you ruining the one thing he’s worked hard for, to not worry about what class he’s flunking, about what party he’s expected to attend, to not worry about why you were crying in the middle of the afternoon. He just wants a moment to collect his thoughts and free his mind.

HJ: I got it

BC: alr cool, put it in the cabinet with the lock, you know how Hyunjoon gets

HJ: Fuck, is it that bad?

BC: he’s an alcoholic bud, it’s that bad.

Hyunjin laughs a little, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He wonders if Seungmin told you about the party yet and grimaces, wondering if that’s the reason why you were crying. If it is, he’s not sure who needs to get a grip. You, for hating him so bad, or him for continuing to try and get you not to. It takes a lot of effort for him to continue the power walk back to the frat, but he arrives sooner than later, stuffing the bag of drinks inside the cabinet and locking it shut. He thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that they have to lock the alcohol up as if they have small kids running around, and also wonders the effectiveness when Hyunjoon lives in a frat house and is an adult who can buy his own alcohol.

It’s Thursday afternoon but he finds that he’s not as excited for a party as he should be. Usually, he’d be bouncing on his heels, counting down the hours for it to start, and realizing he’s so caught up in everything else going around he doesn’t feel that normal excitement that he so often does. He makes sure to fix that, shaking the unnecessary thoughts from his head, pushing responsibilities to later. He has a party to prepare for and he's gonna act like it.

The rest of the boys don’t get back till later— they’d given Hyunjin the responsibility of buying cups and drinks and shitty snacks while they went off somewhere else. Hyunjin can’t keep track of what they do especially if he’s not joining, so he focuses on doing what he’s supposed to in order to make this the best party of the year so far. His frat has always held the record of best parties— has always held their winnings in high regard as well, and he’ll be damned if he gets the cold shoulder if he’s the reason the party isn’t as good as it should be. Most of all, he’s thinking about what he’s gonna do during it.

Hyunjin is not shy on having sex— never has been, never will be, and more often than not he’s having it. Sure, that may be expected since he made a literal porn site, but Jisung also had a hand in it and he has a girlfriend. Felix doesn’t have one-night stands often, nor does Seungmin. It’s different for all of them.

He knows there’s a few girls that have been actively trying to get in his pants, knows that he’s been trying to get into theirs, but he can only hope he can focus on them for long enough to do so without thinking about you. If you come, he knows that there’s no chance he’ll think of anything else, and he’ll probably spend the entire night just getting you to laugh again. To get you to explain to him why. why why why. It’s confusing, but he pretends it doesn’t matter.

Thursday comes and goes too quickly, and Friday does as well. The day isn’t over yet, it’s only the afternoon, but the implications of that make you anxious. Make your nerves ignite far more than they should.

Seungmin didn’t answer your calls for the rest of that Thursday. Didn’t read or respond to a single text until you decided to leave him alone. Jieun called, but you didn’t answer. You think the way you felt towards her is the way Seungmin felt towards you. Maybe something worse, so you gave him space and took some for yourself, a moment to really think about what made you react the way you did. You don’t think you’re in the wrong, you still don’t think you could’ve reacted any other way and you’re not sure what that says about you.

You take another bite of your sandwich as you walk down the street from the Art store, your phone cradled in your other hand and a drink poking out from the opening in your bag. It’s hard to mentally prepare for things that you don’t know anything about. You don’t know where the party is, who’s hosting it, how long you’re expected to stay. Thought that’s if you’re even still going. You want to take Seungmin’s silence as an answer that no, you aren’t, but you also don’t want to assume that and then he shows up at your door and you’re not ready.

You don’t want to go, not at all, but if it made Seungmin happy then you would. If he didn’t come to pick you up you briefly entertained finding your own way to the party and cornering him, forcing him to hear your apology before leaving and soaking your pillow with tears. But you don’t know where the party is. You also briefly entertained the idea of calling Jieun and asking her, but you’re not interested in the lecture that would come from that. You still don’t appreciate her words about you to Seungmin and the implication of them. Seungmin is your friend, you can tell him what happened all by yourself. You don't need Jieun to play messenger.

You swallow the last of your lunch and throw the wrapper in the nearest trash can. You want to start a new painting, one that can unleash the frustrations of your life as it is right now, and you can only do that by getting some new supplies. You save up constantly for this exact reason— for the ability to buy whatever your heart desires whenever it desires it. You dip your toes into whatever interests you, and all concepts of Art satisfies you more than anything. Writing whatever you desire, taking pictures of the things you find beautiful, painting whatever you want— it gives you the control that fuels you more than anything else.

The art shop by your university is quaint, always quiet and never very full, yet always filled with high quality supplies and fully stocked. You’ve made friends with the old lady who owns it and her daughter, constantly going there just to buy something in order to catch up with them on whatever has happened since your last visit. They’re like the mother and sister you never had, people who feel more like family than your own. It’s partly for that reason that you’ve made the trek there, hoping to get some advice for the things you’ve been feeling before going to the party that’s undoubtedly being held by the one group of people you despise.

The bells above the door jingle when you step in, and you let the smell of paint, chalk, crayons, pens, and faint air freshener soothe you. It’s just as cluttered as it’s always been— stacks upon stacks of sketchbooks and canvases on one side situated next to the easels and small desks. The paints have a section of their own, oil, watercolor, acrylic, matte, and more— on the opposite side there’s pens and crayons, colored pencils, oil pastels, and sharpeners of all shapes and sizes.

The walls are covered in paint as if before bringing in all the items they’d had fun splattering the walls in color. It’s messy, unruly, cluttered, and barely organized— so it doesn’t make sense to you why it comforts you so much. When you see a small form hobble out from behind a stack of books a smile forms unbiddenly on your face, and the small old lady smiles back.

“I missed you, dear,” She scolds, wrapping you up in a hug. “It’s been too long since you’ve come to visit.”

“I know, I’ve just been busy Ms. Yang. I missed you.” You sigh, rubbing your nose in the soft fabric of her sweater. She smells like paint and flowers— she smells like home.

“Sam will be here soon, she’d love to see you.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I need to talk to her too.”

“I can tell, child. You look stressed.” She sighs, shuffling behind the counter and sitting on one of the other seats behind it. “Get what you’re looking for,” She says waving a hand dismissively towards you.” I won’t make you explain it twice.”

You huff lightheartedly, making your way over to the canvases and picking one of medium proportions. You’re still not sure what it is you want to paint, but you know whatever you’re feeling is strong enough that you grab Oil paint, needing something rich and vibrant and something sharper to contrast the muddled and cloudy image of your mind.

It’s before long that you settle on a brand you normally buy, and the set of bells signal someone’s arrival into the shop. You turn your head, expecting to see Sam and her long curly hair, beautiful in its volume and her tawny brown skin, but instead you’re greeted with the sight of straight brown hair, swept behind the ears of a tall man, a mole under his eye and the reason for all your problems. You don’t know why you react the way you do, but with your items cradled in your hand you sprint behind a large stack of sketchbooks and hold your breath, staring with wide eyes at the cans of paint at your feet.

What the fuck is Hwang Hyunjin doing at your shop? This is your safe place— your safe haven. A part of you curses the ground he walks on, hopes that the store is too messy and cluttered for his liking, prays that he proves he’s as shallow as the company he keeps and that he leaves and doesn’t come back. Another part of you hates yourself for being so ridiculous. For letting your personal feelings about him delve so far that you’d think something like that. Sam and Mrs.Yang deserve the business, deserve the money, deserve the customers. You shouldn’t hope for anything different— but it still amazes you how he never fails to intrude on the things you hold dear. To intrude on the things you want to keep to yourself.

You don’t move from the spot you’re in. It could’ve been ten minutes, an hour, even, or maybe it was only thirty seconds, but you only peek out when you hear Sam’s voice ring through the shop. You survey the room, stepping out from your hiding spot when you confirm that Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. Though, you don’t think you could’ve hid regardless by the way Sam calls your name.

“Hi, Sammy,” You smile, coming up to pull her into a hug. She grips you tightly, her kinky hair tickling your cheek and her clothes smelling faintly of vanilla and roses. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, hun,” Sam smiles, albeit a little sadly as she looks over your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, don’t leave a poor old lady out,” Mrs. Yang huffs, “Come over here and tell us both about it.”

Without even saying anything they’ve already cheered you up, your steps feeling lighter as you make your way behind the counter and sit on one of the three seats. You sit between them both, their eyes set patiently but concerningly on you.

“I don’t know, really,” You start, and then, you tell them. About your argument with Seungmin, about how lonely it is feeling like you’re the only one feeling this way, about how much the site angers you— how it makes you feel. You tell them about Hyunjin, about how he doesn’t stop bothering you no matter how much you make it obvious you don’t want his company. How much that frustrates you, as well, and about how the lack of control over the entire situation, and over the CSC’s place in your life makes you uncomfortable, and about how the CSC itself makes you feel things you’ve never felt before and how much that scares you. You can barely describe the way it does, and who else can you blame besides its creators.

When you’re done it feels like you’ve vented a lifelong event, it makes a heavy weight lift itself off your shoulders and the heavy silence that remains doesn’t feel like judging, but rather them trying to understand— soaking up the meaning of every word you said in an attempt to place themselves in your shoes.

“I think,” Sam starts, “That your cluelessness about your feelings towards the site in general turns into anger, and the fact that the boy,”

“Hyunjin”, You offer.

“Yes, I think his attempts at speaking to you only worsen it somehow, like you’re being cornered by this weird feeling that you don’t understand and it makes you even angrier.”

“You said your friend is a part of it?” Mrs.Yang interjects, a wrinkly hand kneading your shoulder.

“Yeah,” You murmur, “He’s good friends with the group and he loves the website.”

“That probably doesn’t help then,” She continues, “If you’re surrounded by people who know what they like or enjoy something you don’t like or don’t understand, of course you’re going to feel angry. You feel like the odd one out.”

“I think more than anything you need to figure out if it’s really anger you’re feeling, and if the only reason why you hate this website is not because of its purpose but because of your lack of control over it.” Sam finishes.

“I can’t say I agree with it either,” Mrs.Yang grunts, “It’s not something I think college students need to be worrying about. Things like that stick with you, but it’s their choice to indulge in it, Y/n, you can’t control that.”

You sigh. You guess so, but you still feel like you need to get rid of it. You’ve been slacking, not paying attention to it as much as you should because of all the chaos it’s creating. It’s been a while since you’ve done a petition or made a list of ideas as an attempt to shut it down, but for now it seems like enough to just hate it. They can’t change your mind. Not Seungmin, not Sam, not Jieun, not Mrs.Yang, not Chan or Changbin or Minho— not any of them, and especially not Hyunjin. You just want to be hateful in peace and you don’t know why you don’t seem to be allowed to do that.

You leave the shop feeling lighter, but also like you didn’t actually get any good advice. Sure they validated your feelings, but that’s it. You’ve been trying to figure out your feelings. You know why you’re frustrated, and even though it felt good to be validated it also felt like a waste. You hold the bag of art supplies closer to you as you walk. The sun is setting, painting the sky reds, and oranges, and purples— and you think maybe you’ll paint that. To represent the end of the turmoil that surrounds you, as something hopeful.

You relish in the soft slope of your shoulders, in the relaxation you so rarely feel nowadays, and walk briskly to your dorm so you can fall into your bed and try to forget about the fact that there’s a party you’re supposed to be at tomorrow.

And as if the thought brought it on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out quicker than you’d ever admit and a relieved smile pulls on your lips when you see it’s from Seungmin.

pup: be ready by 9

you: ok!!!!!

you: i miss you

There’s no more responses but you don’t let that dampen your mood. He still wants you to go with him and that says enough. You do feel terrible about the way you acted— the way you’ve been acting— but you know it’s justified. You’re not irrational. Not at all.

If you collapse at the foot of your bed, art supplies sitting on the floor by your feet, and a paper by your head titled #686, no one has to know.

This Saturday has not been a day of relaxation for you. You didn’t have any plans, though instead of enjoying the peace you so rarely received, the day consisted of you running around your room with a frazzled energy following behind like a ghost. At first you contemplated showing up in a sweater and jeans; no makeup, no jewelry, just you and a lazy fit— but realized that would only bring you even more stares than if you dressed as slutily as possible.

It’s with a black leather mini skirt and a black, lacy, low cut long sleeve tucked inside that you finally allow yourself to relax. You’re probably dressed way too flashily for a college party, but you can’t entertain any thoughts like that or you’ll spend the next three hours obsessing over it— and that’s three hours that you don’t have. Knee length boots stare at you from the door and it’s with a sigh that you walk to the door and put them on.

There’s more reasons to be nervous than just the party, between the inevitable walk with Seungmin to the encounter you’re most definitely going to have with the CSC and all of its users, you’re out of your element. There’s not enough deep breaths to make you calm down, there’s no method available to help clear your mind. Your heart races much more than should be healthy. It feels like hell, even, and all you can do is let this plethora of nerves run its course.

When your phone buzzes with Seungmin’s ‘I’m outside’ text, it almost feels like your heart stops. Fuck, Seungmin’s gonna ask who you’re all dressed up for, gonna ask why you’re so nervous. Why are you all dressed up? Why are you even going? It’s too much, too much of not knowing, not understanding, not feeling right. What will it take to get you to feel right? Like in freshman year when your biggest worry was whether or not you were passing your classes, now it feels like that's a lifetime ago. Like you’ve encountered way too much to even consider anything like that— not that you need to worry about it anyway. It was supposed to be a carefree year for you. You’re always on top of your responsibilities, always prepared, and nothing ever changed that until you went on that site for the first and last time.

You stop, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath that’s otherwise pointless, and step out the door. You curse the day you ever went on that website. It’s why everything is all messed up now, but you rid those thoughts from your mind. You’re determined to have fun tonight no matter what, and no matter who’s there.

Seungmin waits at the door, A button-down hanging off his shoulders and jeans. His hair is combed back and he’s ditched the glasses.

“Hey.” It comes out meeker than you’d like, a little too timid for what your relationship with Seungmin is.

“Hey,” he smiles, the braces you love so much on full display. Your best friend is beautiful, and it’s with a pang to your chest, it’s with seeing him now— so welcoming and so normal with you— that a small part of you realizes maybe you have been being irrational. Maybe you have been acting too strongly, but then you remind yourself that you’ve never been irrational. Never.

“So I’m guessing we’re going to the CSC’s dorm?”

“You’ll fit right in,” Seungmin laughs, starting to walk. You struggle to catch up to him; it’s been so long since you last wore heels that it’s hard to get used to. You don’t grace his comment with an answer, simply relishing in the soft nightly breeze and the shine of the moon. The stars glitter from above you, light years away yet so visible. So sure of their stance in life. You don’t think stars blow up at their best friends, or feel confused, or feel lonely.

You arrive at the party all too soon. From a block away you could see people drunk, staggering in the same direction, and from down the street you could hear the bass of the music, but the warning signs weren’t nearly enough to prepare you for the actual sight of it. It’s like the typical house parties you’d see on TV, but louder and more nerve-wracking. People hang out in front, the music loud enough for them to enjoy even from outside the building. Lights flash from behind the window, an array of purples, greens, reds, and blues. You can see people's shadows from behind the curtains over the front windows, and you feel like you’re about to throw up.

“Oh god,” You mumble, taking a few shaky steps inside. You can't do this. You’re gonna freak out and embarrass yourself. You can almost feel the anxiety seeping from your pores, and the word no repeats over and over in your head like a mantra.

No no no no no.

You can’t do this, but you do it anyway. Stepping inside the party is a feat in itself, and you can’t tell if your hands are shaking from the strong bass of the music or because of pure anxiety. The music knocks into your body so strongly that your knees buckle, barely able to hold you upright. At any moment you feel like you might collapse.

You can’t do it but you do it anyway, taking one step and then another, and when the door closes behind you, you resist the urge to turn back and run away. The party is full of people— so full that it’s impossible to walk anywhere without bumping into someone, and despite your best efforts you do get stares. Whether it’s because of what you’re wearing or if it’s because it’s you at a party being held by the CSC… you’re not entirely sure. You don’t think it makes a difference. You try to ignore it, act unbothered, and it must work because after a while they look away, murmuring something or the other about what you’re doing there.

Seungmin drags you away from the door and to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets like it’s his home. You take in the somewhat chill vibe of the kitchen compared to everywhere else. It’s not nearly as full, but there are couples at opposite ends acting as if it isn’t a place where food is kept.

You take a few deep breaths, reassure yourself that you can do this, and even if you can’t you’ll do it anyway. Seungmin doesn’t say anything, just pours you something sweet and fruity in a red cup and hands it over with a raise of his eyebrows. You drink it way too quickly and you know you’re gonna regret it later, but you need the effect it’ll bring. The faux calmness that’ll help you get through the night. Though with how full the party is you think that you won’t be able to see the hosts anytime soon if at all, and that’s enough to bring your heart to a stuttering stop before it resumes its beating in a much more slow paced manner. You’re still not calm, but you’re doing your best.

“Try to relax,” Seungmin chides, his gaze heavy where it bores into you. “Everything will be just fine.”

You nod, taking a more calculated sip of your drink this time. You let the music relax you instead of startle you— focusing on the beats and the melody— on the lyrics, instead of the volume and how it makes your body tremble. You can do this.

When you finally feel like you’re able to relax, Seungmin parts from you, saying there’s some people he has to see. You’re an adult, so you can handle being alone for a few minutes. Eventually, though, the few minutes turn into something longer. You wonder if maybe Seungmin is still upset with you— you didn’t speak much about it on the walk like you thought you would. Honestly, it was mostly silence, and you didn’t think much of it before but you are now. You hold your drink close to your chest, dubbing it your life line for the night.

You last all of thirty minutes before you feel like you’re getting too hot— the building only gets even more stuffy as more people arrive, all of you packaged like a can of sardines. You take the fleeting burst of confidence to leave the kitchen and go to the backyard, hoping that it’ll be a bit more peaceful (as peaceful as possible considering the music blasting), and allow the fresh air to graze your skin like a soft blanket. You sit down on one of the benches in the backyard, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. What will it take to feel at peace? Maybe there’s nothing you can do. And it’s with these thoughts that you do exactly what you shouldn’t do at a party, wallowing in self pity and confusion. You’re so caught up in these thoughts that you don’t notice when someone else joins you.

“Hey, bug.”

Your head whips up faster than what’s comfortable, and you barely hide the wince that struggles to leave your lips. Hyunjin speaks again before you can respond.

“Don’t leave, alright. Please?” He asks, sitting down beside you and smoothing his hands over his pants. “Can we talk?”

“About?”

“About us? About you? I’m tired of running in circles and I want to know why you hate me— the CSC so much.”

You’re silent for a moment, contemplating, thinking. You should get up, leave the backyard and this party altogether. You should ignore whatever it is Hyunjin has to say because he’s the reason for all this, right? Why is he always pretending he doesn’t know; acting like he wants to get to know you? Acting like it really matters how you feel. Everyone wants to understand, everyone wants to know why, but you don’t even know— but you’ll never admit it outright. You’ll never say the one thing that’s been your driven principle for the past year is something you’re unsure about. All you know is that it’s bad, that it’s made you feel ways that were foreign to you, and in order to regain control you need to get rid of it. No matter how anyone else feels about it, no matter who gets upset with you along the way. You need to do it.

Your voice is soft, but not meek. For once, you’re gonna get this entire experience off your chest. “When I first went on the site in the beginning of freshman year I was curious,” You start, glancing at Hyunjin and feeling the tightness in your chest return when you realize he’s already looking at you. “At first, I was curious, and then I was confused. I clicked on a few videos— I scrolled for a while— and I started to get this weird feeling. The more I watched the videos, the more I scrolled through pictures and posts, the feeling got stronger.”

You feel so stupid, but you continue. If Hyunjin makes fun of you he’s just proving your assumptions correct. “I’d never felt that way before and honestly, it kinda scared me, and it was annoying that I didn’t understand it. I didn’t do anything after that. I ignored how fast my heart was beating, how my body was reacting, and never went on that site again. Slowly, that confusion turned into anger— it’s not normal. The way I felt wasn’t normal, and that’s why I think that site needs to get shut down.”

“Bug…” Hyunjin laughs a little and you want to be offended, but you can tell it’s more shock than amusement. “Bug have you ever had sex? Or.. touched yourself at all?”

Your mouth opens and closes comically, but Hyunjin is patient, waiting and watching carefully for you to speak. “Is that what’s important?” You finally say, your eyebrows furrowed and you’re ready to defend yourself if need be. “No, I haven’t.”

“God, bug this is…” Hyunjin squints at you, “I think you were aroused.”

You splutter, feeling your heart rate spike in embarrassment. “What!? No. No.”

“That weird feeling? That heat in your gut,” Hyunjin says, and to punctuate he lays a large, warm, hand over your stomach. “You were horny.” This time, Hyunjin’s laugh is one of amusement, but you're too distracted by how big his hand is, splayed over your stomach and so warm it feels like it’s burning through your clothes.

“Hyunjin, the feeling— no, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Bug, if you’ve never ever been aroused before somehow, of course it felt weird. Holy shit.”

You don’t say anything, but Hyunjin continues before you can get a grip on your thoughts.

“I can’t believe this is the reason why you’ve hated us for so long, I honestly can’t believe it.”

“Hyunjin… that feeling wasn’t pleasurable. Control is pleasurable. I didn’t have a grip on anything that day and barely regained it on the days following. You can’t convince me that getting rid of the CSC won’t bring back a sense of normalcy. You can’t, and even if you’re right, I think that morally, the site is still wrong, and I’m not going to stop trying to shut it down.”

“There’s so much about the CSC you don’t know about, and there’s so much more to pleasure than control.” Hyunjin sighs, clearly more at ease now that he realizes you’re just confused. You don’t know, really, why you hate them. That’s clear. You’re stubborn though, he can tell, and even if this idea he has works— he’s not sure you’ll stop until you get what you want.

Earlier that day the CSC received an email from the dean, threatening that they’ll start looking into all that their site entails because of how often you keep badgering them about it. It’s starting to create a murmur between staff, and they’re growing increasingly frustrated. All that means to Hyunjin is you’re finally breaking through their resolve, running them down enough for them to consider shutting it down or supervising more intensely. Hyunjin can’t have that. None of them can. When Hyunjin approached you tonight he expected to have to beg— to have to plead with you to stop meddling. The site is bigger than you know, more important than some college stupidity. It rakes in a lot of cash, and he can’t have such petty reasoning stop that flow.

Hyunjin’s voice is husky as he continues and his words send an undeniable shiver down your spine “I can show you that the site, and sex by association aren’t bad at all. Mentally, you’re confused and physically, you’re pent up. We can’t have that can we, pretty girl?”

“No, we can’t.”

Wait. What? Yes, we can. Yes you can. You’ve been doing just fine right? You don’t need Hyunjin’s help. He’s not gonna change your mind because your mind doesn’t need changing.

“You can try to shut us down, but at the same time let us help you.”

“Us?” You murmur, attempting to understand what exactly is happening.

“All of us, the CSC can help you figure out what you’re feeling, right? We can help you decide what to do.”

“…You can help me?”

Hyunjin hums, removing his hand from your waist and trailing his finger along the skin just above the hem of your shirt. His fingers dip over your cleavage, tug at your necklace, up and up until your chin is in his hand, and he turns you to face him as his lips brush your cheek. “I want to see who will succeed first, so let me show you that there’s more to pleasure than control.”

He can help you. Out of all the people who ask you why, who say they want to understand but don’t try, he’s the one who’s offering a solution. As annoying as he’s always been to you, as much as he’s always embodied something you hate— the person who’s embedded such foreign feelings in your mind— he wants to help you. He wants to try, and he’s not telling you to stop your goal either. He’s not telling you it’s stupid, he’s not getting angry. He doesn’t make you feel irrational. You’re not irrational. You have a goal and it’s one you’re gonna complete, but… it doesn’t hurt to try, right? And if you succeed, if you shut them down and Hyunjin fails— if the CSC fails you’ll win. You’ll win and prove that you were right all along.

“Go easy on me.”

“Of course, bug.”

You keep your eyes downcast in embarrassment as Hyunjin whispers against your skin, his fingers gently turning your chin up and over to the point of focus. His lips. Pouty, sinfully crimson, curving upwards so surely, like they themselves know their effect on people. They look so soft, so wet. You want to feel them, and it’s as if Hyunjin’s read your mind because his lips are on yours before you can even blink.

“You just kissed me,” Your voice is airy, breathless, and usually you’d be embarrassed.

“Can I do it again?”

There’s a simmering, boiling tension both of you have been ignoring but you’ve lost the will to care about hating Hyunjin or Chan or the CSC. Momentarily, you’ve lost the will to feel much at all but a burning desire to take away any negative emotion you feel. You’re sick of it, sick of feeling confused. Last night you’d dealt with it by crying your eyes out, before that you’d dealt with it by having a screaming match with your best friend, and now you’re ready to look for something to fix it. This just might be the best way to start.

“Not outside.” You whisper, your hands clutching the fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt with such an intensity you’re afraid it’ll rip off then and there.

The trip inside and upstairs is a blur. You’re sure if anyone saw you they stared, wondering what you two were doing together, wondering what you were going upstairs for. It’s a blur, nothing is clear but what you’re going to do at this moment, and with Hwang Hyunjin of all people. Of what you’re going to do in the future, with the CSC of all people, what you’re gonna do to them— what you’re gonna allow them to do to you— that’s the only thing on the forefront of your mind. Not about who’s watching, not about who wants to know. It’s about you. You’re the one in control, you’re the one who gets to decide. You’re the one who needs to know.

Warm. You feel warm all over, pressed against Hyunjin with his thighs spreading yours open, warm in his tight embrace. Your hands are clutching at his clothes, at his arms— It’s so hot, yet somehow the constant cool air of the room makes you shiver.

“W-what do I do?”

Hyunjin chuckles, his voice the softest you’ve ever heard it. “You don’t have to do anything, pretty. Let me handle it.”

Letting Hyunjin handle anything doesn’t sound like a very good idea to you in any instance, but in this case you let him. You’re otherwise clueless in this area and frankly, if you want his help you’re going to have to accept it when it’s given. His mouth lands back on yours, a certain kind of desire running through the kiss. His hands are all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he can, and you try your best to kiss him back with equal intensity— to move your lips against his with the same fervor.

Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when Hyunjin slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold. And if Hyunjin had imagined this during late nights, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he dreamt of you pushing your panties to the side for him to enter your tight hole, no one has to know.

“Look at me, pretty,” Hyunjin growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with a foreign intensity. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a small burst of confidence, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for another kiss. It’s a little awkward with your inexperience, all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. His lips feel like heaven and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. You want to sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of him on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," Hyunjin teases, pressing your thighs farther apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again. "I don’t think you really hate me, bug.”

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your skirt, slipping under the hem and holding the fabric tightly. God, you feel so bare. Like Hyunjin is looking at you from the inside out. When he pulls your skirt down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, his warmth. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Hyunjin lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold. You’re so sensitive. So, so sensitive.

His hands grip your waist tightly and his lips trail upwards, the bridge of his nose pushing your shirt up until it’s so high your breasts threaten to fall, smothering Hyunjin’s face underneath them. You shiver at the thought, those sinful lips pressing kisses against the skin of your breasts; what would it feel like? Would it feel like this? This feeling that you’re still so unfamiliar with?

"Pretty girls deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Hyunjin starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. You didn’t know you could make sounds like that. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Did you come to impress someone tonight?” Hyunjin murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Hyunjin’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

“You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.

“Yes.”

It’s breathless. It’s not you. It’s not the person who wanted nothing to do with Hyunjin only a day ago, but you want answers. You want clarity. And right now, you want this.

Hyunjin wastes no time after your confirmation, his fingers slipping under your panties and ghosting over your skin. He lets out a harsh breath at the feeling where you’re otherwise silent, trusting that he knows what to do. When a rush of cool air blows over you though, your legs close instinctively, and Hyunjin hums, “Stay with me, bug.”

“I’m here,” You respond, slowly spreading your legs back wide and allowing him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off ur ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to cradle your cheek you lean into the warmth. It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you for the first time.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect Hyunjin— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to help you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

The man before you reaches his other hand towards the hem of your top to pinch the edge of it between an index finger and thumb, and pulls the cloth away from your skin.

His eyes bore into yours: “This okay?”

“Fuck, the more you ask me the more nervous I get.”

“Okay, okay. I don’t wanna make you nervous.”

“Just… be nice to me, Hyunjin. Okay?”

Hyunjin smiles, and you exhale, relaxing into Hyunjin’s sheets and letting his musky cologne consume your senses as his touch roams everywhere else.

And then finally— yet all too quickly— the shirt is tugged away from your breasts and they fall freely as Hyunjin eagerly leans closer. His nose presses against one of your hardened nipples, and you watch his pupils dilate quicker than you thought was possible. He’s barely holding back the urge to fuck you dumb, and the finger that still thrusts slowly into your cunt stutters in its movements.

Look at you. His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly let his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, god, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Hyunjin’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at your through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dipped his head down, holding your breast in his large hand and rubbing over your nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. Your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moan, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groans, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He wanted to do this right— show you all that pleasure could be. He moved his mouth from your nipple to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Oh- oh Hyunjin help me, please,” You pleaded, his shoulders too far to grip onto; your hands instead finding his hair, running your fingers through and pulling when he nosed at your clit, groaning heartily when your wetness clinged to his skin.

It’s with a lick to your clit that you wail, your thighs threatening to close, and they would have if Hyunjin’s hands hadn’t reached out to force them down, pushing further and sticking his face into your arousal with more fervor, licking and sucking with such vigor that it felt as if he was trying to devour you. Your thighs trembled with every movement of his tongue, poking and prodding at every inch of your cunt, his nose dug against your clit and for a moment it felt like you were seeing stars. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth letting out uncontrollable moans.

You didn’t think it’d feel this good. But, you remind yourself, control feels better. You can’t let him change that— he won’t change that.

The obscene sounds that came from his actions should’ve embarrassed you, but nothing like that came to mind. Hyunjin was relentless, and you couldn’t even think of anything more than the feeling of his hair between your fingers and his tongue slurping at your cunt.

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

Besides control, of course. And you assume, the eradication of the CSC would, also.

Suddenly, your stomach tenses, your body locking up, and you quickly cream all over his tongue, shaky moans slipping through your pretty lips. Your thighs shook from the aftershock, trying to come down from this feeling. Afterwards, Hyunjin’s actions felt too harsh. He didn’t change pace at all, but it felt like your body was going to arch its way into oblivion. Unable to ignore the sensitivity of your body any longer, you pushed against his head until he stopped, attempting to catch your breath.

“You okay?”

You hum, begging the beating of your heart to soften, though as soon as it finally did you looked back at Hyunjin and saw his pants sliding down his legs. His toned, muscular legs, and it started its harsh beating once again. That wasn’t it? Of course, that’s wasn’t it, but fuck. You don’t know if you can handle anything more.

The headboard of his bed knocks against the wall as he climbs back up on the bed, moving his body closer this time and instead of only his chest hovering over you, this time his legs cage you in, one on either side, as your heart pounds itself into oblivion.

One hand supported his weight on the pillow by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever Hyunjin would come bother you. It intensifies when Hyunjin wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging the bedding from under you and you yelp.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your twitching folds, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you.

“Relax,” Hyunjin murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Stay with me.”

You do your best, forcing your body to relax, as he sinks deeper and deeper still. Hyunjin grunts softly when you clench down on him, and he sighs as you blink dazedly up at him.

Pretty eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Hyunjin watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his sweat slicken forehead, and he sinks back into your slick walls with another languid roll of his hips.

“Fuck you’re so tight, baby.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Hyunjin’s chest expands with a shaky breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your virgin cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper than his playful one. Tonight you’re seeing a whole new side of him— a new persona. This isn’t the annoying Hwang Hyunjin who bothers you and calls you ‘bug’, this is the Hwang Hyunjin everyone else knows. The one you hadn’t met yet.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the sheets.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Hyunjin moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, baby,” He pleads, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and Hyunjin’s groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all Hyunjin. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And again, you feel that strange feeling before tensing up, your body convulsing and arching up as Hyunjin’s thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the mattress and Hyunjin’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when Hyunjin gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwater back on. You hear it when he sighs, something light and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. You can’t do much more than sigh, but it seems like enough for him— like that was the exact answer he was looking for. You succumb to blissful sleep right before the door shuts behind Hyunjin.

“Hear me out,” Hyunjin sighs, a lazy smile on his features even still. You’re no joke even if you might not know it yet. “I think it could really work.”

“You want us to convince Y/n to what? Leave us alone or..?” Jeongin says, leaning against the table in the kitchen.

The party has long been over, there’s a mess everywhere but it’s empty except for the eight boys and you knocked out in Hyunjin’s bed. Jisung sits sprawled on the couch, head twisted ever so slightly to betray that he’s listening to the conversation, Jeongin leans against the table and Chan has his arms folded where he leans against the wall serving as the entrance between the kitchen and the living room.

Minho downs a bottle of water by the sink, and Changbin leans against the fridge, leveling Hyunjin with an intense look. Felix and Seungmin sit on the couch opposite Jisung where they have a full view of everything and everyone.

“She barely even knows what porn is, so I said I could convince her the site isn’t that bad— and is something she could grow to like, if not love.” Hyunjin explains, his eyebrows raising in wait for the retaliation that’s sure to come.

“Why should we?” Minho asks, with a swallow, “If she doesn’t like it, honestly what does it matter.” Heads nod in agreement.

“Listen, they’re starting to consider whatever the fuck she’s selling them at those little meetings, and I got an email about investigation if this keeps up. If we fail to change her mind, we can at least distract her enough for the heat to lessen a little.”

Chan nods, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He shrugs, looking over at everyone in the kitchen. “We change her mind, then we got one less problem to deal with.”

“And if we don't?” Changbin asks, tilting his head at both Hyunjin and Chan. “And if this is just a waste of time?”

“It isn’t,” Hyunjin assures, “Trust me.”

The rest of them don’t argue, but Hyunjin feels Seungmin’s gaze boring into him from the couch, feels his questions burning at the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, so he leaves before they can succeed.

“We can talk about it more later, but I think it’ll work. It’s a good deed, and I know how much you guys love those.” Some scoffs and laughs fill the room, but Hyunjin is already halfway up the stairs, a plan forming in his mind and a pleasant smile growing on his face.

a note from iris: this chapter was late because of that long ass smut scene so i hope it was enjoyable and that this wasn’t 17k worth of a snoozefest 😭 i’m sorry it’s late!! so sorry but it’s still friday even if it’s 11 pm <3<3 not beta read not nothin so pls.. spare me.. and i hope you liked it !!!

not-so-mini taglist (there’s so many of y’all !!???): @chrisbahng @seonghwatoothless @bubblelixie @199719932000 @imsuchasimp00 @hyu-hl @oddinaryfelix @raspbinniecreme @fa3body @kittykatkrissa @andreaswrld @hattorihaechan @lachinitaaaaa @j-0ne25 @bangchanbabygirlx @ni-sh @green-orangeade @sincerely-skz @exclusivej3ss @elizalabs3 @lili-kims-blog @curiousgworge @midsoulz @sawadabegum @reighlee-greaves @lotus-dly @blcar @impossiblewritingrebel @yourhwngness @idek-at-this-point-lol @multihoe-net @hyun-bun @hwan-g @ughbehavior @rindomo @awesomelycoolworld @springdeity @todolyn @meowminhosblog @hyunelixies @emotionalwreckkk-blog @seungschacco @avyskai @cvfechan @jeyelleohe @vvsmydiamonds127 @chriscentric @simpforpunzngl @be-a-spacequeen @svintsandghosts @myjisung @hanjiesgf

*** if your tag didn’t work make sure your blog is visible! if i somehow missed you when tagging i offer a sincere apology <3

THE MOST ADORABLE THING ISTG 😩😭❤️

random junnie sfw headcannons

because i'm kinda in love with him and i ship us and he's almost all i think about

- i am, of course, a fashion lover. so one of my main headcannons with yeonjun is matching accessories. matching berets, earrings, sunglasses, shoes, belts. typically, they would be the same design in different shades or different colours.

- he'd be a sweet and gentle lover. fun, but overall sweet. if you know like, anything about him, you'll 100% agree. he'd just love love love everything you do and would find you nothing but endearing. if you're not an inherently cute person, he'll still find you adorable. if you are, you will make his heart just burst.

- always so proud of you even for the smallest things.

- he'd hold your hand all the time. and he'd randomly spin you around whilst you're walking, and he'd sometimes just get all quiet and start playing with your fingers, lost in thoughts of love.

- he'd sit you in his lap and sing to you quietly, pressing little kisses to your face in between words. just to see you blush and smile :).

- continuing, he would LOVE you sat in his lap. he'd just love it.

- many many back hugs.

- clingyyyyyy. clingy clingy. in a cuddly way. he'd be like a koala. squishing his face into yours, rambling about how you're so cute that it breaks his heart, or how lovely and soft and warm you are, just general gushing. he feels very in love so he just squishes you until he gets the point across.

- continuing on, he would feel like it's impossible to get the point of how much he loves you across. he feels his love for you very intensely. so he never stops telling you.

- he'd buy you perfume and roses at least twice a month.

- he'd get really sad if you lied :(

- he'd take a lot to heart by accident, leading him to get frustrated quite a lot.

- but he would never get mad AT you. it's more stress than anger. he just blames himself even if it's not good or even his fault :(

- seeing you eat and enjoy your food would make him so happy. he would feed you snacks all the time and would watch you eat your meals with the biggest heart eyes.

- he'd be all talk, but it wouldn't take much to make him all soft or shy. he'd be charming you with his cheesy talk, winking, the whole game. and all it would take to get him embarrassed and giggly would be for you to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

- couple shopping trips are frequent. so are walks at midnight and therefore dancing and singing in empty streets whilst they're empty.

- cutesy teasing. lots of it. he'd tease you like hell, but it would never be to make you feel humiliated about anything specific. he's just obsessed with your shy smile. it makes his heart flutter, it makes him want to cuddle you until you both suffocate and die from cuddles.

- he'd definitely claim to be more dominant in the relationship than he actually is hehe.

- that said, he'd definitely take the lead in the relationship. his instinct seems to be to take care. he'd just be so attentive, taking care of all your little daily stresses. thank him for it a lot. he'll feel happy and proud because he feels needed by you.

- however, as he says time and time again, he also needs taking care of. play with his hair and feed him. write him little notes and make them cheesy - he seems to like rom coms actually?? so i assume cheesy love is secretly the way to his heart. [adorable >-<]

- he likes attention and being listened to, but he seems to equally love watching and listening. this would call for many nights drinking and dancing together then sharing stories.

wedding season ♡ the unplanned activity

The day at the pool is a planned activity, but Minho and you find something better to do.

⇢ pairing: minho x fem!reader ⇢ word count: 7.1k ⇢ genre: smut, angst, non-idol!au, fake dating!au, exes to lovers!au, unrequited love, love triangle, exboyfriend!minho, ex!best friend chan ⇢ warnings: 18+, minors dni! mentions of a group of people being immature pricks, fear of water; drinking, drunk sex, smut [groping, handjob, fingering, tit sucking, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), protected sex, use of the word slut (the mc uses it for both of them), one tit smack, cum on body] ⇢ masterlist ♡ series masterpost ♡ updates ♡ read on AO3 ⇢ reblogs and feedback are always motivating and appreciated! ♡

if you want to support my writing, you can buy me a coffee here and let me know what you think about it here. thank you! ♡

When you thought about what the trip will be like, never once did it occur to you that you’d find yourself in the pool with Minho, surrounded by people, and see him not care about anyone or anything else. You didn’t think he’d go swimming, period, let alone look this relaxed doing it.

But then again, you two have been flirting for a while now, joking around and pretending other people exist, so him forgetting about his fear doesn’t surprise you at all. 

Out of the blue, some of Chris’s friends start swimming around you, spraying each other with water and trying to hold each other’s heads underwater. It’s a stupid, childish thing, and you can’t believe grown men are acting this way and getting everyone else around them wet.

Chris soon joins them, and it seems like they’re drunk because they’re spraying water everywhere and getting other people involved, laughing as they do. It could be fun, maybe, but it’s not fun when you worry about Minho and his fear of water.

Even poor Sunyoung gets her head underwater, but she emerges laughing and spraying her soon-to-be husband. “Screw you, guys!” she shouts, and you almost laugh at them being idiots, but then you remember this is Minho’s worst fear.

Judging by the small group’s moving pattern, they’ll soon reach your part of the pool and probably won’t even ask before deciding to have “fun” with the two of you.

“Minho, it’s time to get wet!” Chris jokingly shouts, still too far away to notice how Minho frantically grabs your hand underwater and intertwines his fingers with yours, holding onto you tight. 

“Don’t think so!” you shout back and stand right in front of Minho, wrapping your arms around his neck so you can jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. The very next second, you’re in his arms and he’s helping hold you up, the water doing most of the work.

Your ex is surprised by you climbing on top of him but can’t even express it out of fear—you can read it all on his face. It’s been years, but you still know how Minho feels just by looking at him. The fact that he’s doing this for you even though he’s scared just reminds you of the things Jisung told you, and you instantly feel like the worst person out there. This guy shouldn’t be out here in fear just to indulge your stupid little whim.

“It's fine,” you whisper at Minho, which makes him look at your lips and close his eyes for a second as if he's trying to agree with you without saying a word. “I promise.”

Your ex hums and opens his eyes, sighing loudly. His arms hold onto you tight, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he holds you up.

Chris shouts something at you in return, but you’re too busy looking into Minho’s eyes to even register it, and you don’t care about their childish game enough to turn around and face the groom. “Maybe later,” you say, raising your voice just a little bit. “We’re busy now.”

Minho doesn’t say a thing for a while, focused solely on your eyes, even though his gaze does fly over your shoulder here and there to check where the group is and whether anyone's coming over to try to pull you two below the surface.

“What are you doing?” Minho asks as soon as the three men move back to their side of the pool. “You’re supposed to be convincing the guy you’re miserable with me, not the opposite.”

You chuckle, throwing your head back, your limbs still wrapped around his body tightly. It’s a relief that he’s not angry or scared—after everything, he’s here worrying about your plan. “I kind of enjoy being carried around. Plus, this is a good workout for you.”

“You do know you’re a lot lighter in the water, right?” Minho reminds you and grimaces at you, but you laugh that off, too.

“I know. I’m saving you from people and letting you enjoy your pool time,” you whisper, leaning in. You feel your lips brush against his ear in the process, and your core clenches at the touch for some reason, even though the moment isn’t intimate. “You don’t have to carry me, though, that part is a joke.”

“No, it’s fine,” Minho tells you, grabbing your thighs to lift you a bit before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his frame. You’re now so close your noses are practically touching, and you haven’t been in a position like this since the last time you two kissed. “Fewer people will bother us if they think we’re a couple doing coupley things.”

“I’m sorry about this,” you tell him, ignoring the last part. You don’t want to think about all the things that come up in your mind when he says that. “I didn’t think they’re such kids.”

“Pretty, weren’t they always?” Minho squints his eyes and glares at you, knowing he has a point. “You’re always surprised when your man acts childish like he hasn’t been that way since you met him.”

“You… Actually have a point,” you admit with a shrug. “You’re right.”

“God, I love hearing you say that,” Minho says with a loud groan, similar to the ones he lets out when he’s coming—and if anyone knows what that sounds like, it’s you. Why you’re thinking about that, you have no idea.

“Let’s have another drink,” you suggest, hoping that will take your mind off of things you shouldn’t be thinking about while you’re in his arms.

When Minho agrees, you two wave a waiter over and soon get the drinks that you gulp down almost instantly. It’s because you need courage if you’re going to make the trip worth his while. Jisung has made a good job of getting inside your head and making you question your relationship with his friend.

Throughout the whole thing, you stay in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, drink in hand. Minho and you talk and giggle, tease each other constantly, and you enjoy every second of it. Being around him is so easy when you’re not putting up a fight or overthinking things, and today just reminds you of that. He carries you around while you drink, and everyone leaves you two be, which is how you prefer it.

“You should drink more often,” Minho suggests with a grin, downing the shot he ordered with the latest round of cocktails. It has to be the last one because you will pass out if you have any more drinks other than the one already in your hand.

“Why, because I’m on you when I do?” You down your drink and place the glass on the edge of the pool, arms once again free to wrap around his shoulders.

Your ex stops moving and looks at you for a second or two, inspecting your face thoroughly. Then, he smiles. “No, because you laugh loudly and smile all the time, and you’re even prettier then, pretty.”

“Aw, are you getting soft on me?” You fake pout and pinch his cheeks, to which he scoffs and puts his shot glass down by the edge of the pool.

“Trust me, there’s nothing soft about me right now,” he says teasingly and tongues his cheek, and you know exactly what Minho means. “I’m not saying it because of that, though, but because you need to be more confident.”

“I’m way more confident now than I was back then,” you point out, happy with your progress. You’re never going to be on Minho’s level of confidence, you’re sure of that, but you feel better about yourself than you did back in college, and that's something.

“The only reason you weren’t confident back then was that asshole,” Minho mumbles and glares at Chris, who is jumping in at the other side of the pool, far away from you in Minho’s arms.

“What do you mean?” You laugh at the very idea of Chris having anything to do with your low self-esteem back then. The truth is, you’d been single for a long time and you thought your value as a person was low because you couldn’t find a great person to date. Of course, when you grew a bit older—and wiser, you like to think—you realized that being single had nothing to do with someone not being good enough. Chris had nothing to do with your distorted sense of self.

“I mean… He made you think you weren’t good enough,” Minho says, sounding fully convinced in the truthfulness of his statement. “And you were even more than that.”

You have to disagree with him. “He didn’t say anything like that…”

Minho shakes his head and pulls you in closer, so close your chests are now touching. “Really? Chris didn’t constantly remind you that I fucked around before we got together, that I had a lot of experience you didn’t? He didn’t warn you about me, telling you to be careful because so many,” he rolls his eyes while he mutters, “women wanted me and I had never been in a relationship before, and I could easily fuck one of them when you weren't around?”

When he says these things, you get taken back to the past and realize Minho is right—Chris did say them, but he was just trying to warn you. He didn’t want you to get hurt, and that was your biggest fear. After all, you knew Minho was way out of your league. You looked okay, weren’t stupid, could be fun, but he was gorgeous, smart, funny, and had such charisma that people just flocked to him, even back then.

Before you two got together, Minho had never been in a real relationship, never wanted to settle down with someone, so it surprised you that he wanted you two to try it. You knew he fucked more girls than you could count and they were all probably more experienced than you, better than you. These things weighed over you all the time, but you couldn’t really blame Chris, even if he pointed them out often. “It’s my fault for believing these things.”

“If Jisung was dating a girl he thought was too good for him, I’d tell him no one was too good for him because he’s a great fucking guy,” Minho tells you with a smile, and you know he means it. “I wouldn’t tell him she slept around before him and that she’ll probably do that again because so many hot guys want her. I wouldn't try to make him doubt himself so he could break things off with her. You wouldn't say that to a friend either. You should have listened to me instead.”

You should have. 

Being with Minho—physically—was always great for your self-esteem. Despite all the teasing and playfulness, you always got more compliments than you needed, and Minho made sure you knew he found you pretty and attractive and funny and interesting. That’s why he called you pretty in the first place—the first time he called you that, you were so moved you kissed him and said it was the sweetest thing anyone had told you. After that, it became like a new name to you, at least in his book.

“You’re right about that,” you agree with him, even if you think Chris didn’t have bad intentions. “But I’m over most of those problems now, anyway.”

“I can see,” he looks down at the way you’re wrapped around him, “and you should be. If you weren’t pretending you were with me, trust me, all these guys would try something. You’re too good for them, though.”

You scoff at that, even if you think everything he is saying is sweet and caused by the alcohol rushing through his system, plus the adrenaline of being in the water. “Really? Is it because I’m such a moral person?”

It’s Minho’s turn to laugh heartily. “You’re not in it to hurt other people, and that’s what’s important.”

Are you? You think about it for a second, but the last thing you want is to see Sunyoung or Chris hurt. You wanted to hate her, but it’s hard when she’s such a sweet, nice person. You’ve met her last night, even danced with her, and she gushed all about her love for Chris. You couldn’t hate her if you tried, that much was clear. Besides, your plan was fucked from the beginning.

“I guess I’m softer than I thought,” you admit, not wanting to talk about Chris when you’re so confused about Minho to even think about the other dude. So, you change the topic back to something lighter and say, “Unlike you.”

“I thought you couldn't feel it,” Minho says and throws you towards the surface, enough for your crotch to move away from his erection and get pressed into his stomach instead. “My bad.”

“You thought I wouldn’t feel a dick that hard between my legs?” You look at him questioningly before smirking. “How drunk are you, Minho?”

“Not as drunk as the girl that’s secretly been enjoying having my dick against her pussy for the last ten minutes,” he quips and downs the rest of his cocktail, even if he’s just had a shot. You're always surprised by how he can say the crudest things with the straightest face in public. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

“I’m in your arms, it’s right there, things happen…” You shrug and lean backward, letting your back rest on the water while Minho holds you by the waist. “I didn’t mind it.”

“Don’t do this to me if you don’t want to get fucked,” he hisses out a warning and chuckles. 

That’s when you realize the position is extremely sexual for two people who have had sex a million times before—your legs around him, your crotch against his, his hands on your waist, holding you pressed into him while your upper body floats. You hate sex in water, but if all these people weren’t around, you’re sure Minho would make even that feel good.

“Maybe I do,” you say with a chuckle and open your eyes again to look up at Minho. It’s up to him now. “So what?”

With one quick move of his hands, Minho gets you to sit up and straighten your back, his arms once again around you, lips next to yours. “What are you doing, pretty?”

“Offering you sex, if you’re interested,” you respond and lean in to press your lips against his. You're at the pool and most of the wedding guests are there too, but you can't get yourself to care. For all they know—including Chris—you two are a couple. You kiss and fuck and love each other, so this shouldn’t be surprising.

Minho kisses you back, not letting himself get carried away before he pulls away and inspects your face from up close. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been hard for a long time and it’s making me want to fuck you right here,” you admit, leaning in and biting on his lower lip. You'll never be immune to Minho, no matter how hard you try. Besides, why should you try? You want him, he's clearly horny—what's stopping you? “We’re both single, and you fuck so well, so…”

Instead of saying something to your offer, your ex kisses you, this time using his tongue. The more it swirls inside of your mouth, the wetter you get, and the more you enjoy having him between your legs, long and hard, reminding you of what’s to come if Minho is willing. You don't care about your surroundings and who can see you—all you're focused on is reciprocating the kiss and enjoying every second of it.

Minho grunts into your mouth and pushes his hips into yours, and you feel like you could come any second even if he hasn’t even touched you yet. Fucking Minho and his perfect tongue and taste and smell and the way he touches you and how attractive his moans are and how well you know he fuc—

“Get a room!” one of the guys screams jokingly and sprays you two with water, but neither one of you moves.

Minho breaks the kiss and pulls away just enough for your lips to part, but you feel his breath on your face and see him looking at you with lust written all over his face. The guy is so pretty you can’t stop staring, and he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Shall we?” you feel confident enough to suggest, even though he could turn you down easily.

“What?” Minho asks, even though you’re sure he knows what you mean. He's looking at you like he knows, and his fingers are once again holding your thighs from below, even if they are practically resting on your ass.

Still, you indulge him and say it out loud. “Get a room.”

“Is that my reward?” your ex suggests, the grin wiped off his face for some reason, jaw clenching.

You shake your head at the suggestion. “No. I just want us to fuck. No rewards, no games.”

“In that case, your room or mine?”

Ten minutes later, still wet from the pool, you're in Minho's room, pushed against the door while he kisses you, his hand roughly groping your tit before moving down to do the same with your ass. You're wearing a bikini, but his hands manage to get under it with ease and touch whatever part he wants.

“Fuck, you're hard,” you mumble with both hands wrapped around his cock, which is leaking precum already. You swipe your thumb over the tip, making Minho hiss and bite into your shoulder, and it turns you on that he's so quick to show how much he likes your touch.

“See what you do to me?” Minho grunts into your skin, and the words make you get wetter instantly. “See how fucking hard you get me?”

You fucking love vocal men, and he's the one to blame for that. You enjoy hearing how horny you get someone and you bask in the sounds you get them to make all thanks to Minho and his filthy mouth which is currently kissing its way down your body. 

He pushes your swimsuit to the side to get your tit out. Once Minho does that, his tongue starts swirling around it, and all you can do is pump your hands faster and moan for him. “Suck harder,” you tell him, squeezing the tip of his swollen cock. “Want your mouth on me.”

Minho chuckles and does as asked, sucking your nipple into his mouth, biting the flesh around it. When he lets go of it with a pop, you think you'll come right then and there because of the sight of his wet swollen lips right next to your nipple. “Pretty, let's go get a condom,” he suggests, and you nod, even if you want to keep touching him for hours.

You follow him to the bed, sad that you two have to part while he looks for a condom in his drawer. But, while Minho is standing next to the bed and shuffling through the drawer, you drop down to your knees and pull his swim trunks down his thighs, taking his cock into your mouth, which stops him from moving.

He grunts and kicks his head back, hands grabbing your head and pushing it towards him, making you take all of him. When you do, you swallow on purpose, and he moans. “You really want me to blow before I get to fuck you,” he mutters happily and continues searching for the condom. “Not gonna happen because I want to be in you so bad.”

You keep sucking but are pulled up on your feet and thrown on the bed a second later. When you get on all fours, Minho pulls your swimming suit down your ass, exposing your soaking cunt to him. “So fucking horny today,” he mumbles, sticking a finger inside of you, both of you hissing when it just slides in. It gets drenched on the first try, and you can almost hear it move. “Aw, did Chris turn you on that much?”

“Stop talking about him,” you tell the man who now has two fingers up your pussy and is scissoring you open with them. “He didn't have his dick between my legs for half of the day, did he?”

Minho chuckles and puts the condom on. While he does that, he leans in and starts licking you up and down, careful to suck and slurp and make as much noise as possible to get you to moan and melt. “Minho, please,” is all you need to say to get him to pull away and put his dick in you.

You moan when you feel the stretch, the familiar burn of the dick you know every inch of, the slight stinging and overwhelming feeling of relief when something hard finally touches your walls. “Minho!”

“Finally,” he grunts to himself and starts moving, hips smacking into yours from the get-go. “So good—”

Minho keeps fucking you roughly, both of you unable to speak. There's not much you can tell him when he's giving you exactly what you want—good sex, the type that leaves you breathless. Each thrust fills you up with pleasure, makes your toes curl, makes you moan and grunt. Even though he seems to be more put together than you, Minho is grunting just as much. “So tight,” he tells you in between thrusts. “Tight little cunt… Wet just for me.”

“Yes, Minho… Fuck… Just for you.”

You've missed fucking him this way, missed having his hands on you like this, grabbing any body part they can reach while his hips push into yours from behind roughly. Minho still knows just how much you can take without it getting painful.

You're tipsy and horny, which means you are more than fine with rough sex, and he's delivering—every move is sharp and quick, cock buried inside of you deeply, thighs smacking into yours.

Being emotional all day made you drink, and that made you want to be close to Minho, which is why you're now fully enjoying the experience. “Harder, Minho, please!”

“Harder?” He giggles, sounding out of breath. “You really need a good fuck, huh?”

“Just had one recently,” you manage to mumble, still not over the sex you two had before coming here, the time that made you think of him more.

Minho laughs happily and smacks your ass. “Sure you can take it harder?” he checks again, hands now on your waist.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think of anything else.” A simple plea, one that he's heard from you many times before and always managed to deliver. “I don't want to think… Just want you.”

It's true. Right now, you don't care about Chris or the wedding or Jisung or anyone else—all you want is to get these frustrations out through sex with Minho. You wish he was on top of you so you could look at him, kiss him, so he could see what he's doing to you.

“Then get comfortable and hold on tight,” your ex instructs you gently and waits for you to grip the sheets and spread your legs to find a stable position, one that won't have you lurching forward with every thrust.

When you do, his cock makes you see stars. It's kind of funny how Minho's cock isn't anything special, technically speaking. There are bigger, longer, thicker dicks out there, yet his always manages to rub your g-spot, always makes your eyes water because it feels so deep, always pries your walls open, no matter how much they clench around it.

“Fuck yes, just like that,” he hums to himself, probably enjoying the view on top of the feeling of being in you. 

He pushes into you hard with a loud smack which almost throws you forward and onto the bed. But, Minho's strong hands are holding you just below the waist, fingers digging into the skin, so he pulls you back onto his cock instantly. It's just back and forth, his dick rubbing your walls quickly, beautifully.

“Mhm, baby.” A smack of his hips makes you moan. “Such a good dick.” Smack. Your toes curl, pussy dripping for him. “Want to have it all the time.” Smack, smack, smack.

“Yeah? Want to let me fuck whenever?” Minho's voice is so low you just know he's seconds away from grunting and coming if he lets himself.

You hum again, trying to clench around him, but it's hard to do that when he's pistoning into you. Smack, smack, smack, the sound so delicious you want your ex to keep going forever.

“Yeah, just you—” Smack, smack. “It's your pussy anyway.” 

Smack, smack, smack until you can't say a thing anymore because you're too busy crying out from pleasure, all because you've told him something he loves hearing. Minho has never been jealous or possessive—you've found out to what extent just recently—but when you two slept together or fooled around, he loved hearing you say that you were his, that your body was his, that he could have it whenever he felt like it. If the timing was right, hearing you were his could make him blow unexpectedly.

You know these little things about him just like he does about you. So, you're not surprised in the slightest that he knows exactly how to move to make you scream. You're not surprised by your constant moaning, by the fact your mouth is open and you're drooling over his bed, by the fact you're dripping wet. The whole hotel can probably hear you getting fucked stupid, but you don't care about any of that.

“Take dick so well,” you hear him mutter, voice laced with pleasure, “my sweet little pussy… Mine,” smack, “mine,” smack, “mine! Right?”

“Yes! Yours, baby—”

“Only I get to make a mess out of it, hm?”

Everything he says goes straight to your head, makes you moan louder, makes you relax your muscles and enjoy the throbbing cock inside of you. You feel wet and swollen but so satisfied at the same time, even if you haven't come yet—it's fast approaching, your abs clenching and releasing.

“Yes, Minho, only you,” you agree, nodding even though your head is pressed into the mattress and he can't even see it. “Please, don't stop, baby— Please, just—fuck!—keep going!”

Minho knows you well so he recognizes all the signs of you getting fucked out of your mind, of you getting lost in pleasure, on the brink of coming.

“You're gonna come like this, pretty?” Minho sounds surprised because you find it easier to come with clitoral stimulation. Today, it doesn't seem necessary.

“Yes, yes, just move—”

He hums happily, clearly happy about the fact you’re enjoying this more than he expected you to. Minho recovers quickly and keeps muttering at you, hissing every now and then,“Let me feel you come, come on. Show me how much you wanted this dick…”

It's stupid that those are the words that get you going, but that's what happens. You come around Minho’s cock, letting your shoulders collapse on the mattress, fingers gnawing at the sheets while he keeps pistoning into you. 

“Yeah, baby, just like that, squeeze it hard,” he tells you through hard thrusts and gritted teeth. “Never want to pull out.”

While you are trying to calm down, Minho keeps fucking you, but his hand reaches for you and pets your head as he leans over so he can look at you. “Good fucking girl… So good. Came so hard for me, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum in agreement, practically purring with pleasure—his cock is so satisfying, but his touch is making you want to melt. You're not sure how he manages to fuck so hard and be so gentle at the same time, but that's just a Minho thing, one that other men in your life haven't been able to figure out. “Just for you. You make me come so hard every time, Minho…”

You suddenly realize that you want to look at him. Sex is great either way—at least with Minho—but looking at him makes it even better. So, you tell him to stop which makes him freeze in place and stay buried inside of you. You shimmy your hips until his cock falls out of you and then you turn around to face him, still on your knees. “Lie down, handsome.”

“What for?” Minho asks, grinning at you as you lean in and wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a long, wet, horny kiss.

“Let me fuck you,” you say sweetly, pulling him onto the bed.

Minho lets you push him around, make him lie on the bed, and straddle him—all with a smirk on his face. The smirk turns into a pleasure-filled frown when you sit down on his cock and clamp around it hard, fingers dragging across his chest, leaving red marks in their wake. “Want to see all the pretty faces this pussy makes you pull,” you tell him teasingly, knowing it will fuck with him. “So fucking pretty.”

Minho groans loudly and spreads his legs, allowing you to sit onto his cock comfortably and start moving forward and back, gently swaying your hips. “I love it when you act like that…”

“Like what?” you ask even though you know what he means. You reach back and grab his balls, squeezing and rolling them around your palm, which makes Minho’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Like you know how fucking good you are at this, pretty,” he suggests, licking his lips, and his words make you ride him harder, make you want to rub all over him until he comes hard for you. “Because you really are.”

“Maybe I do,” you tease, biting your lip and starting to move even faster, acting like you're in a porn video made just for the guy lying under you. You know what he likes and have no problem giving it to him.

Minho groans and asks, “Do you say things like that to other men?” His hands move to your tits and squeeze them, but his eyes stay focused on your face.

You grimace at the idea of being this open with anyone else and start moving your hips in circles instead, getting to feel him rub you in a new way.

“Didn't think so,” your ex grins, realizing he still knows you well.

“I can't be this open with anyone… That's why I love fucking you, Minho.” By this point, you're moving faster, squeezing him with every circle of your hips. 

This keeps him grunting, and he closes his eyes, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. “Why is that?”

“You've fucked me more times than I can count… You've licked and sucked every inch of me.” You mean every word of it. You two have done it all and there’s just no shame involved, no embarrassment about asking for something you want—things just happen, and nothing seems out of place.

Minho's eyes snap open and he smirks at you. “And I'd do it again. Want you to sit on my face for hours.”

You giggle, starting to move up and down while your hand moves to his lips. A finger pushes inside his mouth, and Minho lets you run it across his tongue. “See? You're a slut for me, so I don't mind being one for you. In fact, I love that I can act as slutty as I want just for you. I can tell you all the nasty things you need to hear to blow your load, baby.”

His hips jolt upwards into you, making you hiss. You pull your finger out of his mouth and bring it down to your nipple, wetting it, enjoying the way his eyes follow your every move.

“Oh my God, keep going,” Minho urges, hands grabbing your ass, eyes looking up at you. “You just get hotter and hotter. When we first met, you couldn't even say cunt without blushing.”

You laugh at that, even though you'd still have a hard time saying it in front of some guy you barely know. Minho is a whole different story—he taught you everything, anyway. “That's true… But now I can tell you I want your tongue up my cunt before you fuck it hard and shoot your load into it.” Minho moans so loud and long you think he's filling the condom up. “You like me better that way, don't you?”

Minho smacks your tit before he pinches your nipple somewhat softly. “I like you either way, pretty. Liked you when you needed the lights turned off to fuck me, like you now that you can ride me completely naked in broad daylight and act like a dirty slut.”

You think you could come just from the things he's saying and the way he's looking at you, but you're focused on his pleasure alone, which is why you're moving fast, careful to sit on his cock fully. “That's because in either case, I end up fucking you.”

Minho nods happily, his face getting sweaty and red, and you think he’s never looked hotter than he does now. “More than that, but that will do,” he says, not caring to explain further. “Just a bit more, pretty… I’m close.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle and start moving faster, happy to hear Minho is enjoying it as much as you are. “Gonna come for me, baby?”

You know the pet name does things to him. Even if you didn’t, it would be obvious from the way his hands squeeze your tits or how his eyes squint as he smirks. “Mhm… Wish I could do it in you.”

“I know you do,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him, sticking your tongue out to tease his lips. It gets Minho to chase you, which makes you giggle again, hips still smacking onto his. “You wish you could finish inside me every time.”

His compliments and looks are getting to your head, making you feel overly confident, making you feel like you're both crazy about each other, which is why you’re saying all these things. You don’t know if Minho wishes he could come inside of you today, let alone every time, but you’re not thinking straight.

However, your ex seems to be on the same page because he agrees with you. “That's because I know you get a little stupid when someone makes you come hard. You'd let me do whatever I wanted after a good fuck,” he says, making a good point. You were always so whipped for the guy, willing to try whatever he wanted after he’d make you come time and time again. “You’d definitely let me fill you up.”

“So confident,” you chuckle and lean in again, whispering, “I mean, you have every reason to be, but still… Confident.”

Minho scoffs and grabs your waist, pulls you onto his torso. Then, he flips over with you on top of him, getting you on your back with his dick still in you. The sudden change makes you even hornier, especially since he is taking control and getting on top and putting an end to your teasing, which means he is almost ready to come. 

“Do I need to teach you a lesson again?” Minho grunts against your lips but doesn’t give you the kiss you lean in for. “Is that what you want?”

Your pussy clenches at the idea of Minho's lessons—they always ended with both of you satisfied in every way possible. “No. Just want to see you come for me… Want to make you feel good, baby… Show you how much I like you fucking me.”

Your admission makes Minho go hard on you, hips moving back and slamming into you, cock entering you fully, pussy squelching with every thrust. “Yeah? Whose is it?”

You wrap your arms and legs around your ex and pull him into your frame, his hips still crashing into yours. “It’s your pussy, Minho, just yours—”

“Just mine, hm?” He sounds elated when he whispers the words, eyes zeroing in on your expression as you grimace and grunt. He’s fucking you so hard you can’t even tease anymore, even though you want to. Minho always enjoys teasing, but you’re too fucking horny for it.

“Only you get to fuck it like this.” It's not a lie—you never have sex like this, never have this much fun, never want to let a man do whatever he wants to you—unless you're with him.

“Shit, pretty, you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles before burying his head in the crook of your neck, and you realize he’s done for. “I want to fill up your cunt just once… Show you it's really mine.”

The idea sounds so good you want to let him do it. If there's a guy you trust completely, it's Minho. But, not today. “Maybe I'll let you sometime… After you fuck me stupid,” you suggest, to which he nods against your skin and keeps grunting lowly, cock still entering you at a steady pace. “You're right, you're so good I’d let you do whatever, baby, you have no idea…”

At this point, his thrusts are shallow, and you know he's about to come. Instead of filling the condom up, Minho pulls out while panting a hasty, “Can I do it all over you?” The condom gets thrown to the side.

You nod and spread your legs wide while grabbing your tits for him, sticking your tongue out. It's definitely one of your sluttiest moments, but it's also one of the hottest ones. Having a guy as handsome as Minho kneel over you with his thick dick in hand, jerking himself off for you, is a whole experience in itself. “Pretty, fuck!” he moans, eyes rolling back, lip caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I’ll—ahhh!”

Suddenly, cum sprays all over you, from pubic bone to neck, and you keep talking for him, knowing that’s what Minho needs. “Yeah, baby, give it to me… Want your cum all over me. Show me whose is it.”

You're bucking your hips into nothing, moaning while you watch him jerk off onto you, and you kind of don’t want it to end. Eventually, it does, when there’s nothing he can squeeze out of his dick, when all the cum has landed on your body, painting it white. When he's done, Minho collapses next to you, head sweaty, hair stuck to his face, breathing heavily.

You lie there for a while, not feeling strong enough to get up and clean yourself up—your entire body is still sore and turned on, buzzing with pleasure, your mind processing what has just happened. Minho seems to be on the same wavelength, except his hand is on you and he's rubbing cum all over your tits and stomach, playing with it absentmindedly. It all feels so warm and welcoming, familiar, and you wonder why.

So, you ask, “Minho, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot, pretty,” he says, sounding half asleep, as always after an orgasm. His eyes are closed, but he’s still touching you softly.

“Why did you decide to date me back then? You never— You didn't date that much before me.” You’re not sure why this is important to you, but you want to know. All the talk about your past made you wonder about that too, about how you never quite understood why he chose you, about how he was always a bit too good for you.

“Uhm…” Your ex hums while he thinks about your question, pointer finger dragging his cum over your nipple, making it pebble again. “I did date before you, but never like that. I guess you made me feel things other people didn't.”

“Like what?” Your voice quivers for no reason—you’re not afraid or nervous or tired. Maybe it’s the old insecurities creeping back up now that you’re talking about you two, about the only real relationship you’ve had. He’s definitely the only man you’ve loved like that.

“Like… You cared about me. I fucked around a lot, but I never really had someone who cared the way you did, checked up on me, was gentle with me. So I started caring for you and there was no way back, I guess.” Minho makes it sound so easy, as always, and it sounds natural. You two just cared for each other, and that made him want to be with you.

“I did care about you a lot,” you admit, years too late.

“I know you did,” he says and gives your tit a light squeeze, which would make you chuckle if you weren’t lost in all the thoughts about your relationship. “I did too.”

You don’t say anything for a while, but a question has been bothering you ever since you reconnected with Minho, ever since he walked into that bar and made you think of all the good times. “Do you think it's normal to have these feelings years after it ended?”

“Are you talking about Chr—”

You cut him off quickly, not even wanting to think about the guy while you’re lying in your ex’s bed naked, covered in his cum, which he’s dragging around your tits with his fingers. Not a good time for thoughts about the groom. “Us. Me.”

Minho sighs and rolls over on his back, joining you in staring at the ceiling. You miss the warmth of his hand on your chest but don’t say a thing. “I… I don't know. Do other people go through it?”

“Do you?” That’s what you’re more interested in here—fuck other people and how they feel.

“Me? Of course I do. You— I… I do, with you.” 

You turn to the side to face Minho because you can’t not look at him after he’s admitted to that. He looks almost angelic with his hair all wet from sweat, his cheeks flushed with color, plush lips slightly open.

When you two look at each other, your ex smiles. “Pretty, you're drunk and sad that he's getting married, and we've just had some… fucking amazing sex. You'll feel a lot of things. Don't get carried away.”

It's a warning that says don't care about me, we're just exes who are fucking. And it’s true. One ex is here to win someone else over and the other has never gotten closure, which led you to his bed. That's all there is to it, and Minho has spelled it out for you.

if you want to support my writing, you can buy me a coffee here and let me know what you think about it here. thank you! ♡

THIS LMFAO

when you try to reblog a post but it’s tagged “freaks dni” and your hand singes and burns like when a demon touches the bible

Heuning Kai Link Masterlist

Kai helping you squirt

More to come ...

(If links are missing that were there before sadly they do not work anymore, for the Twitter account has been suspended)

I love it when writers can manage to write a intimate scene that is so sweet without having to overly explain that they are being sweet to each other. And this one does that SO WELL. This is so cute and i loved it<3

stray kids fic-mas: day 8

pairing: minho x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, 18+ (minors dni)

summary: you have a cozy christmas morning with minho.

length: 1.1k

warnings: food mention, christmas mention, profanity, suggestive/sexual content, no sub/dom dynamic, grinding, unprotected sex (please wrap before you tap), cream pie, praise, pet names, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)

ficmas 2022 masterlist

you stir awake when you feel a soft a kiss on your temple. your eyes slowly blink open and get adjusted to the dim morning light coming in through the window. breathing in, you take in the smell of a candle that smells like pine trees. but there's something else. maple? vanilla? coffee?

once your eyes are fully acclimated, you see minho sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, hands slowly running through your hair.

“merry christmas,” he says before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“mmmm…merry christmas,” you say with a stretch and smile, voice still grumbly from sleep.

“i made us some breakfast. wanna have breakfast in bed? then we can open our presents for each other a little later?” he asks as he glances at the nightstand.

you follow his eyes, and you realize that’s where that wonderful smell is coming from. sitting next to you are two plates with snowflake shaped pancakes and two mugs of coffee.

you sit up excitedly with a grin as you pat the bed next to you. this is all the answer minho needs to grab the tray with the plates and mugs and carefully make his way into bed next to you.

you finish up eating and decide you're not quite ready to get out of the comfort of the bed just yet, so you both decide to snuggle up under the covers to cuddle for a little while. you're laying with your head on his chest as he traces small designs along your back, and you just chitchat.

when there's a break in conversation you shimmy yourself up a little bit so you’re eye level with him. you place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“thank you,” you say sweetly.

“i’ll always make breakfast for you, baby,” he replies with a little laugh.

“i don't mean breakfast,” you nudge him playfully. “well, yes, thank you for breakfast, but thank you for everything you do for me. you make everyday feel like christmas. but especially christmas day."

“it’s my pleasure,” he responds with a kiss to your cheek. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

your lips gently crash onto his. they move together slowly and sensually. he teases the seam of your lips with his tongue before you grant him access, allowing your tongues to move together in perfect harmony. without ever breaking contact, you roll around so you're underneath him on your back while he rests his body between your legs, warm blankets still draped over both of you.

you continue making out for what feels like an eternity while his hands softly run along every part of your body, feeling every part of you. your fingers tangle in his dark hair. though you want to stay like this forever, you feel yourself growing wetter and more needy by the second. you rub your hips up into him, and the obvious bulge in his pants tells you he wants you just as bad. you both continue in the same motions that you have been for a while, but you each begin to slowly grind against each other, breathy moans escaping each of you during the brief moments that your lips separate.

“min,” you plead softly, craving more.

he lifts his face away from yours for a brief moment to look into your eyes, silently ask permission.

you nod to him reassuringly. “please.”

with that he carefully rids you of your clothes before following suit with his. he settles back down between your legs after he drapes the blankets back over the top of the two of you.

he peppers soft kisses all along your jawline and neck while you both start to grind into each other again, your hands softly dancing across his back. you mewl as his hard cock rubs up and down between your dripping wet folds, reveling in the way it feels as it gently rubs your clit. you feel yourself clench around nothing as he lets out a low groan against your skin when he feels out wet you are, how you're coating him in your juices. he keeps a steady rhythm for a while, gradually building both of you closer to your climax.

“min,” you interject softly, almost a whisper.

he kisses the sensitive skin just below your ear. “yes, baby?”

“feels so good…but i want you inside,” you moan quietly.

“you're ready?” he double checks, looking at your face to make sure.

“i'm ready,” you nod.

he carefully lines his cock up with your pussy before pushing into you slowly. you both moan when he bottoms out.

“fuck, you feel amazing,” he coos, barely above a whisper.

you each take a second to get adjusted before he starts his movements again, thrusting in and out of you at a slow and steady pace. his lips find their way back to yours, and your mouths move together rhythmically while he pumps into you. moans and whimpers threaten to escape from both of you if it weren't for your lips glued together. everything is slow and lazy but still so comfortable and full of passion. when minho feels you clench around him, he doesn't do anything to change his pace. instead he snakes a hand in between your bodies to rub methodical circles on your clit. with this new addition, not even a minute later, your orgasm comes washing over. your legs shake as your pussy flutters around him, fingers scraping lightly down his back. you moan against his mouth. he follows suit not long after, hips stuttering against you as he spills himself against your walls, a groan resonating from his throat. he grinds in and out of a few more times to milk your bodies of every last ounce of pleasure they have left before he pulls himself out, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he takes you in his arms and pulls you close to him, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“i love you so much,” he states.

“i love you more,” you say with a soft smile before kissing his jaw.

you lay in his arms for a while, relishing in how warm and safe it feels to be with him.

after a little time has passed, you break the silence with a grin. “so…what do you say we get cleaned up and open presents?”

he scoffs jokingly. “was all of this that just happened not enough of a gift?”

you both laugh.

“while i will admit that was a lovely gift,” you begin. “i do believe there are some more presents underneath the tree that are calling our names.”

“will those ones be naked too?” he jokes, eyebrow raised. you roll your eyes and shove him playfully.

I'll keep an eye out! Super excited ☺️

INNINGS.

PART I

Seungmin x reader. (s,f)

Chapters: Part II / Part III

Author's note: I'm in the mood for a fluff, this is actually the most sfw fic I've ever written. Part 2 will be out next Sunday!

"I have written down all the ideas, and you can start by trying to develop each one into a story," you pushed the note to him and showed him the things you jotted down during the brainstorming you did a while ago.

Seungmin nodded as you gave him detailed instructions cause it was his turn to continue working on the group project of writing a piece of fiction for the creative writing class.

You gave up guessing why he took the class in the first place because his major is Management, plus, he's a star of our baseball team, you don't see why he needs to work this hard because he's already earned his place.

"I will try my best," he said to you and took the note from you.

You gathered all of your things from the table and stuffed them into your bag.

"You got any other plans for today?" He asked, pushing his hair to the back, and it only made his hair messy, but the attractive kind of messy.

You shook your head, "I don't make plans on the weekend. I usually just stay at home and eat and sleep," you winced, regretting that you gave him too much information that he didn't need to hear.

"I don't have any plans as well," he said, slinging his backpack on his shoulder, "I was thinking if we can go somewhere together?"

You looked at him, and he looked at you with a glint of anticipation, waiting for your answer.

"Only if you want to, of course," he immediately added.

It was only 5 in the afternoon, and there was no harm in going somewhere with him, and who knows, you might enjoy spending your weekend not cooped out in your small rented studio.

You nodded, "Yeah, sure, why not?" And tried to sound coy when you gave your answer.

He beamed a smile at you, he stood from his chair, "shall we go now?" He asked.

"Do you have any ideas on where to go?" You asked him once both of you exited the library. The sun was still shining, and it felt nice to feel the warm glow of it after spending hours in the library.

"I have a place to go to have some fun," he said, fixing up the collar of his varsity jacket that he always wears almost every day, and when he is not wearing it, he carries it around by hanging it on the strap of his backpack.

You have no idea what kind of fun he has in mind, but you got curious to find out what kind of person he is outside the campus.

"Oh, that sounds nice," you responded with a smile.

It was hard to catch up on his walk because his stride is wide, and you had to walk a little faster to match your pace with him.

He was aware of it too, he suppressed a laugh when he realized you were half-jogging rather than walking, then decided to slow down, taking smaller steps as you both made your way through the crowded streets.

Seungmin took you somewhere that somehow looked like a parking lot, but once you entered the place and the constant thumping sounds you heard from the inside, you recognized that it is a batting cage.

"So, this is your idea of fun?" You asked him with eyes widened in disbelief, "more baseball?"

He nodded while grinning.

"I mean, you practice baseball all week long, and you play some more baseball to have fun?" You asked again since his first answer didn't satisfy you.

He nodded again, "this is fun," he assured you, then went checked in. The man at the front desk showed him the available slot among the row of cages.

"Come on!" He told you, and you followed him from behind. Your eyes lingered on the broad of his shoulders from the back, and his varsity jacket does nothing but accentuate it.

He opened the door to the batting cage, took a bat, and practiced a few swings before the machine started shooting balls in his direction. You winced every time Seungmin hit the ball right with the bat and made a loud popping sound.

And this is why he's the baseball star, he nailed every throw pitched at him, you knew it wasn't the same with the real game but still, watching him doing what he's good at is another level of attractive.

He lightly panted, then put down the baseball bat, opened the door, and held out his hand at you.

"It's your turn now!" He announced, stepping down a stair still with his hand held out at you.

You looked down at his hand with veins coiling on the back of his hand and down to his long, slender fingers.

"Huh?" Your eyes widen, nonplussed, "I'm not playing," you meekly said.

"I'll teach you," he said with a smile.

You shook your head, "No, no, no," you kindly refused his offer, "I'll stay here and cheer you up,"

He rolled his eyes, "my hand is getting tired here," his eyes motioned to his still outstretched hand at you.

You grimaced but caved in at the end, you took his hand, and he helped you climb the stairs into the cage.

"Just a warning, I'm so bad at sports," you whined, almost like a fussy toddler.

Seungmin handed you a wooden bat, "that's why I'm here,"

You reluctantly took the baseball bat from him, "I-"

Seungmin grabbed you by your waist and positioned yourself in front of him, facing to the side.

He placed his hands on your shoulders next, "first, line up your shoulders with your legs,"

You stood up straighter and did what he told you to do.

Seungmin looked down at your feet, "spread your legs wider," he ordered.

"Oh, wow, and you didn't even buy me dinner first," you joked and regretted saying it once it got out of your mouth.

Seungmin softly chuckled with his cheeks blushing profusely.

He cleared his throat, then put his hands on the small of your back, "keep your knees bend," he ordered.

You obeyed and bent your knees, awkwardly.

"Don't crouch or stoop," he warned, he grabbed your waist and swayed your body side to side, "it's important to have a steady and grounded stance," he added.

"Now, let me see how you hold the bat," he commanded.

You lifted the baseball bat and held it the way you know how to hold it.

"Is it right?" You asked him.

He put his hands on yours, "Don't hold the bat in the palms, it won't allow you to flex your wrist," he commented, then helped you wrap your fingers around the bat.

He traced your knuckles with his fingers, "see this?" He asked you.

You nodded.

"You should line up your knuckles," he said, so attentive as if he was training you to be a player.

When he was sure you gripped the bat the correct way, he showed you how to take a good swing. He practiced with you a few times as he whispered instructions so close to your ear.

"Keep your body in a straight line and keep your eyes on the ball," he instructed, again practicing another swing along with you.

"Relax your muscles and be ready," he finished but with his body pushed so close behind you only makes it harder for you to relax.

He put his hands away from yours and stepped back, "I think you're ready," he announced with a grin.

You suddenly felt so self-conscious that he left you on your own, "what if I'm not hitting any ball?" You asked him.

"We can always play another round," he casually said.

You roughly wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans before gripping the bat again, "what if the ball hit me in the face?"

Seungmin burst out laughing, "that won't happen," he assured you, then got out of the cage to watch you behind the chain-linked fence.

You let out a long sigh as the machine signaled that it was ready to pitch the ball, you repeated the instructions Seungmin gave you earlier in your head.

"Keep your eyes on the ball," you repeatedly said.

With a loud pop, the ball shot in your direction, and instead of swinging your bat, you dodged it.

"What am I doing??" You frantically shouted at yourself, then uneasily glanced at Seungmin.

"It's okay, just keep your eyes on the ball!" He instructed again.

You quickly got ahold of yourself, then gripped the bat so tight, you shifted your focus back ahead.

"Keep your eyes on the ball," you repeatedly said to yourself like it was a scared prayer.

When the ball came at you, you held up your bat over your shoulder just like how you practiced, then when the ball was close enough, you began to swing it, and there was a loud bang.

You successfully hit the ball with the bat, your mouth agape in surprise, then looked at Seungmin in awe.

"I did that?!" You asked him for confirmation.

He nodded while grinning from ear to ear, "look straight ahead! The next one is about to come!" He reminded you.

You succeeded in batting 6 out 10 and insisted on going for another round to make a better record.

"Not going to lie, that was so much fun!" You exclaimed with a stupid grin on your face.

Seungmin held out his hand to help you get down the stairs but ended up lifting you by your waist to get you off since you were too ecstatic to watch your steps.

"I'm glad you had fun!" He sincerely said, then put a cold canned drink in your hand, "here's to soothe your hand"

You looked at the inside of your hands and winced, "ouch!"

You didn't realize your palms were red and raw from gripping the bat too hard, you squeezed the canned drink and let the cold seep in.

"Your turn now!" You said to him.

"You want me to go again?"

You nodded, "yes," you replied while wrapping both of your hands around the cold canned drink.

"Okay then, I'll go," he said then got into the cage.

You watched as he took his stance and swung the bat over his shoulder like it was a natural thing to do, many people had been saying he looked so attractive when he plays, and that was when you knew what the fuzz is all about.

"Do you think I can make it into the team?" You half-heartedly asked him as you dipped your French fry into ketchup.

Maybe because you weren't used to using your body for sports that you got so hungry and finished the burger in under a few minutes.

"Maybe," he replied, after a moment of hard thinking.

You chuckled and dipped another fry into the ketchup then shoved it into your mouth.

"You got something..." he said to you, gesturing to your mouth.

You quickly wiped whatever was on your mouth.

He shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I have to invade your private space," he said to you before reaching up and wiping a drop of ketchup on the corner of your mouth with a tissue.

You hurriedly took the tissue from him and wiped it yourself, "thanks," you muttered and roughly wiped all over your mouth, just in case.

You looked down to avoid his gaze that somehow made you flustered. You never felt like this for a long time, the butterflies, the heart flips, and whatever it is that made the cold of your heart slowly melt. Actually, you never let yourself feel all of these things because they were all trivial and always led you to disappointment.

But something about him made your heart shift, all of these times, you thought of him as not more than just a popular guy on the campus, and that he'd act like an actual jock.

You smiled because he isn't so bad, maybe you shouldn't trust your prejudice in the first place.

"How're your hands?" He asked you.

You held out your hands with your palms up, "it wasn't as hurt," you answered.

He leaned forward to look at your hands, and his fingers trailed the bumps on your palms, "apply some ointment when you get home," he suggested.

"Can I see your hands?" You asked him, out of curiosity.

He held out his hands at you on the table.

You saw how his hands are calloused and rough, from years and years of training and holding a bat, you traced the bumps on his palm and cooed.

When you looked up, his face was so close to yours, and you could see the shine of his dark hair and imagined how soft it would feel in your hands.

He lifted his head, and his eyes met yours, you retracted yourself immediately, feeling flustered.

"My friend always said I don't have a knack for sports. I can't wait to tell her about today," you said with a grin on your face.

Seungmin softly laughed, his hand wrapped around his cup of soda.

"So, how long you've been friends with Kim?" He suddenly asked.

You got taken aback by his question but gave him the benefit of the doubt, he probably had seen you around with Kim on the campus.

"We're friends since junior high school," you answered, then reclined on your seat.

"She is quite something," Seungmin said with a snicker.

That was when the smile on your face slowly fades, not again, you said to yourself.

"She has a lot of fireworks in her," he added.

You scoffed and laughed to yourself, "yeah, she is," you half-heartedly added.

You refused Seungmin’s offer to drive you home and took the bus home instead, you felt the urge to be alone and be in your own space.

Arrived in your cramped, small studio, you face-planted onto your bed and just let your thoughts drown you in like usual.

You thought about how Seungmin almost got you with your guard down only to find out he was just like another guy who tried to get close to you, with the ultimate intention to get close to your best friend, Kim.

Kim is undeniably attractive, but apart from her physical appearance, she is the kind of person who got everything that comes easy for her and is good at everything. She knows how to get around people, in conclusion, she's everything you are not. She's always been the center of attention the moment you became friends with her, and you have always been there by her side, as the sidekick, the less attractive of the two, and last but not least, a quick gateway if anyone wanted to get close to her.

It had happened more than a handful of times already, some guys approached you only to ask you about Kim. You reminded yourself that it's not her fault, she didn't ask to be born that attractive the same as you didn't ask to be born less attractive than her.

You never felt bothered by it but sometimes, sometimes you just got so tired of explaining yourself to people that you are more than just Kim's best friend.

The next time you met Seungmin to work on your project, you worked in silence and only talked when you needed to. The silence became so deafening that Seungmin sensed something was slightly amiss.

"Are you okay?" He asked you while shuffling the papers in his hands.

"Yes," you shortly replied without looking away from the screen of your laptop.

You both continued working with the dead air hung in the space between you and him, it wasn't easy for you too but you swore to yourself never to let your guard down again.

Once you were done typing everything on your laptop, you shut it down and closed it.

"I think we're done," you informed him, gathering your notes on the table and putting your pens back into the case.

"I can do the final editing," Seungmin offered, but with the unpleasant look you gave him, he retreated himself.

"If you let me, of course," he quickly added.

You put your things back inside your tote bag, "It's okay, I can do it for us," you kindly refused.

Seungmin smiled back, "To be honest, you'll do a better job than me," he weakly said.

You felt bad for being so sour when all he did was being good to you, you forced a smile and said, "I'll email you the final edit, and you can tell me if there's something you want to change," you said to him.

He smiled back at you, and somehow it made you feel so warm inside.

"Can I treat you dinner?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck as he did.

You hummed for a while before coming up with an answer, "what about I treat you tonight?" You offered.

Seungmin got slightly surprised by the turn of the event and that he thought things were coming back to normal between you two.

"Only if you let me treat you dinner the next time," he said with an eyebrow raised.

You shrugged in defeat, "sure!" You replied, then got up from your seat.

You settled on your favorite pizza place that serves the most delicious cheese pizza, but that night you ordered half cheese and half pepperoni in large size.

"I don't think the two of us can finish this," Seungmin said when he looked down at the steaming pizza with cheese bubbling on top, the smell of it was almost aphrodisiac.

You pushed his cup of drink to the front of him on the table, "someone will be joining us soon," you told him.

And just like she was being summoned, Kim came through the door and shot you a teeth-baring smile the moment he spotted you.

You waved at her, and she half-jogged to your table, "oh my God, the pizza is here already!" She exclaimed.

She quickly sat down on the empty chair between you and Seungmin, she didn't waste time to take a slice and bit on it.

With her mouth busy chewing the food, she turned her head and jolted on her seat, "Oh, Seungmin!" She exclaimed.

You handed her your cup of drink, and she quickly swallowed her food to take a sip, "did you guys just work on that project together?" She asked.

Your eyebrows were raised in question because you never told her about it, well, you told her about the project but not about who your partner is.

You stifled a nod, "Yes, but how-"

"Always a pleasure to meet you, Kim," Seungmin cut in, then bit into his pizza.

Kim nodded in acknowledgment. So they have talked to each other before? It was obvious now because they didn't seem awkward toward each other.

"Seungmin, are you even allowed to eat pizza? Aren't you suppose to be on a strict diet?" Kim teased as she shove a piece of pizza crust into her mouth.

Seungmin snickered, "Only if you don't tell, Kim,"

"Are you aware that you'll not be 22 forever?" She asked him, taking another slice and tearing a piece.

"Yes, but I don't see how is that related to pizza," he replied.

You watched their conversation intently like watching a tennis match, Kim turned her head at you and laughed.

"Oh, have I told you that Seungmin and I went to the same kindergarten," she explained and tore another piece of pizza.

You gasped at the newfound revelation.

"Our moms are sort of besties," Kim explained more.

It was getting more obvious that they are close, closer than you thought. You nodded along and felt your appetite dissipate as you watched them talking and how good they looked together. And you saw the bigger picture, that maybe it wasn't a bad idea for them to be together and maybe they're meant to be, you never know but it was time for you to be out of that picture.

You dropped your unfinished slice of pizza and got up from your seat,

"I'm sorry, guys, but I have to go," you informed and hastily gathered all of your things, "I forgot that I have something to do with my mom and that I-" you blabbered, "I need to clean my room or else she'd give me hell," you sighed from excessive explanation you did.

"But you haven't finished your pizza yet, it's your favorite cheese pizza!" Kim said, getting up from her seat, but you pushed her back down onto her seat.

"I'm in a hurry, you know my mom," you came up with a false excuse.

"I'll go with you then," Kim offered.

"No, no, please stay," you refused and took a step back from the table,

"Stay and eat the pizza. It's my treat," you convinced her and put on a smile, "I'll be taking the bus, do not worry," you added.

"I can drive you if you're in a hurry," Seungmin offered.

You shook your head, "No, no, no, it's okay," you quickly refused.

You slowly retreated from the table, "I'll get going now, bye everyone!" You waved your hand at them then walked out of the door. You resisted the urge to look back and kept on walking.

Later at night, Kim came knocking on your door and barged in the second you opened the door.

"I know there's something wrong," she exclaimed as she plopped down on the love seat. She looked around your small studio and sighed, "you would have cleaned your desk if your mom really is coming," she said, looking up at you with squinted eyes.

"Your mom's favorite drama is playing every Saturday night, and on Sunday morning, she has that volunteer work at the nursing home," she elaborated as she put up her legs on the seat.

You probably shouldn't have lied to your friend, especially the one that had known you for years and knew every detail of your life

There was no way to escape this but to come out clean. You sighed then sat next to her, "Seungmin likes you, and I think," you paused and tried to ignore the twinge in your heart when you mentioned his name, "he's a good guy, and I think you look good together,"

Kim burst out laughing and reached for the snack you always stored under the table, opened a pack of chips, and began munching.

"I'm just trying to set you guys," you weakly said.

"You sound like a total dumbass right now," she said with her mouth full of food.

"I am not going to take that personally," you sneered at her.

Kim sat up straighter and scooted closer to you, "Listen," she began, "what I'm about to say to you is a hundred percent confidential, but since you got your panties in a twist, I have to intervene here,"

You looked at her rather confused and wide-eyed, "what are you talking about?"

She stopped munching and put down the bag of chips on the table, "Seungmin likes you," she said.

Your heart skipped a beat, "what?"

"He likes you," she repeated, "at the beginning of the term, he asked what classes you took, and you think he took a creative writing class for the grade, no honey, he did all that for you," she explained with her index finger pointed at you.

But the more she explained, the more confused you got, "wait, what?"

Kim heavily sighed, "he did all that to get close to you! that's how much he likes you,"

"But I thought he likes you," you stuttered and froze on your seat, learning the newfound truth about his real intention to you.

Kim rolled her eyes, "please, I've seen him piss his pants during a school trip, and he has seen my face got swollen from my allergy. We disgusted each other enough to have a romantic feeling," she groaned.

You stifled a laugh, surprisingly feeling so relieved that it was just a misunderstanding and also felt bad for being unpleasant to him, or worst, he thought that you didn't have the same feeling for him.

"I think I just blew my chance," you sadly declared.

Kim patted your shoulder a few times, "Hey, I never said it's too late to get him now,"

You glanced at her, "you knew?"

"Of course, I know you like him," she said as if it was obvious to her, then took the bag of chips back on her lap and started munching again.

It had been days since the last time you met after that little mishap in the pizza place, you saw him around the campus but never could get yourself to, at least, say hi to him.

Plus, the piling assignments didn't help and kept you occupied the whole week. It took its peak when you got called to your professor's office.

Your heart beating out of control as you stood in front of the door of his office, you took a deep breath before finally knocking on his door.

"Come in!" You faintly heard the voice from inside the office.

You swung the door open and saw your professor was talking to another student in his office, only when you got closer did you realize it was Seungmin.

"I called you both to let you know that I really like your writing," your professor told you both as you stood there facing his desk.

You sighed in relief and felt the knot in your stomach loosen, you glanced at Seungmin and smiled at him, glad to see him again than hearing the praises from your lecturer.

When the appreciation speech ended, and he let you both be on your way, you sighed the second you closed the door behind you.

Seungmin stood there next to you, "I think we make a good team," he said to you.

You smiled because the first thing he said to you after that unfortunate day was a positive thing.

"Yeah, I think we did," you agreed.

There was a silence awkward after all, but you quickly came up with something from letting the silence go on, "I think we should celebrate it," you said to him.

Seungmin nodded, "I'd love that,"

You thought of a place you can go to later when you are both done with your classes, "I think we can go to that cafe we-"

"But I can't, I have practice today," Seungmin added.

You closed your mouth and stopped talking, "oh," you tried not to sound sad but failed.

Seungmin pushed his hair to the back and always looked attractive doing so, "what about tomorrow?"

"Yes, sure," you immediately answered and winced for answering it too quickly.

Seungmin softly laughed, his eyes crinkled under the sunny afternoon light. He looked down at his phone screen to check the time, "I'll text you for tomorrow, I have to go now," he said, hoisting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder.

You nodded in acknowledgment, "yeah, you better get going," you said to him.

He flashed a smile that melts you from the inside, "I'll see you," he said with so much hope to see you again.

"Trust me, even though he didn't say it's a date, it is a date!" Kim said through your speakerphone.

You didn't know how long you had been trying out on some outfits for today, no matter how embarrassing it was to call your friend to help you pick on an outfit to hang out with a guy, you were just that desperate.

You slumped on the couch, "I don't think it's too late to bail on him,"

"Don't you dare!!!" Kim barked, "Put that outfit on and get your ass out there," she instructed, you could imagine her saying that while rolling her eyes.

"Then what?"

"Just be you," she said, "it sounds so cliche, but he likes you way before all this, so there's nothing to worry about," she convinced you, "and I have to go because my mom needs my help in the kitchen, good luck and bye!" She quickly ended the phone call.

You entered the cafe clutching the side of your skirt out of nerves, you spotted him right away on the table you both once worked your project on.

With hesitant steps, you walked up to him as your heart beat faster and faster.

His head tilted up when he realized you were coming his way, a bright smile rose on his face.

"Hey, you came," he said as soon as you were closing into his table.

"Yes, why wouldn't I?" You said back, you fought the urge to slap your mouth for saying it.

Seungmin chuckled, he got used to you blurting out whatever was inside your head.

"I was about to text you that I have to go somewhere," he said to you when you were already seated across the table from him.

"Huh? What?" You asked him, just in case you misheard him.

"My friends insisted on going to his party, and he won't stop until I really came," he explained.

You looked down at your lap, at your choice of skirt that took you hours to pick, and said, "oh," again, failing to not sound disappointed.

"I mean, would you come with me?" Seungmin asked again, rephrasing what he was trying to say to you.

"Going to the party with you?" you asked him in disbelief.

He nodded.

It wasn't like you never heard of a party before or had never been in one, but to be seen together with him at a party was a big deal.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Seungmin added with a reassuring smile.

But of course, you didn't want to disappoint him, maybe it was a party of a friend that is not from the campus. You braved yourself and nodded, "it's just a party, I say let's go," you said with such coy.

Being in a car with Seungmin and seeing him driving was something you never thought you would ever witness. But here you were, sitting on the passenger's side and stealing a few glances at him as he drove with his eyes focused on the road ahead.

You let yourself look at him for a while and saw that he is wearing a blue sky shirt underneath his varsity jacket with his hair is neatly styled and parted in the middle. Your eyes lowered to where his hands gripped the steering wheel that made the veins on his hands prominent.

You looked away when he was about to look your way, you were glad he was playing music, or else, he would hear the noises you made when he was about to catch you looking at him.

Forget about staying invisible at the party, everyone recognized you the moment you got out of Seungmin’s car and got so self-conscious, you thought of fleeing the scene and start running back home.

"We don't have to stay long," Seungmin said, he sensed that you were nervous being there with him, " I'll just say hi, and we can be on our way," he added.

His words didn't quite calm you down, but something about the way he inserted the word we as if it was something as natural. We and that we mean, you and him.

You shot a thin smile at him, "I'm alright, just take your time," you convinced.

Seungmin didn't bother to introduce you to anyone since you were already well acquainted with everyone, which is a perk from having a popular friend. You ignored the curious eyes on you and went on your way, but you decided that maybe Seungmin wouldn't like having you following him around like a puppy so you let him socialize with his peers that are mostly his baseball teammates.

But when you were about to leave his side, he grabbed you by your wrist, "I want you to meet my friends," he said to you.

You blinked a few times at him, not sure if you heard him right.

Seungmin introduced you to his friends, and you shook hands with each one of them, they didn't look as bitter as you think they would, they looked alright and welcoming instead.

"Let me get you a drink," one of his friends offered.

You kindly refused him, you knew the drink was spiked with alcohol, and you are not good at drinking.

When his friend handed you a drink, someone nudged your back and sent you tripped forward, the drink sloshing all over your white blouse.

Your mouth hung open, looked down at your blouse with a red stain on it and reeked of alcohol.

"I am so sorry," his friend quickly apologized.

You slightly shook your head at him, "it's fine, I'll excuse myself to the bathroom," you said to him and quickly made your way out of sight, out of Seungmin’s sight especially.

"It's the second door on the left," he shouted the direction to you then broke into a run.

You locked the bathroom door and hoped no one would come banging on it since you would be likely staying in there for a long time, at least until you washed off the stain on your blouse. And that too, only if you succeeded washing it off.

When you saw your reflection in the mirror, you got hopeless. The night had just started yet you were already a mess, and there was no way you could get rid of the stain on your blouse, you almost broke down crying when you heard a knock on the door, “A moment, please!” you shouted to whoever behind the door.

“It’s me,”

You recognized Seungmin’s voice right away, you reluctantly opened the door, just slightly ajar, and peeked out, “Hey, I’ll be out in a moment,” you immediately told him.

He didn’t say anything but handed you his jacket through the door, “Here, use my jacket,” he told you.

You took it from him.

“I’ll wait for you here,” he said again.

You nodded, “Okay,” then closed the door.

You stared at the varsity jacket that he always wears, draped around your hand, and hesitated to wear this saintly piece of clothing.

You reminded yourself that you have no choice but to wear it, and since there was no way for you to salvage the blouse, you threw it into the trash bin. You washed your hands, wiped the sticky juice with a wet cloth then put on Seungmin’s jacket next. It was too big that you pulled the sleeves up to not let your whole arms hands engulfed by it and buttoned the jacket since you were wearing nothing but your plain white bra underneath.

You fixed your hair and fixed your make-up, it was the least you could do to look presentable. You gained your composure back and opened the door, found Seungmin leaning against the wall waiting for you.

You smiled awkwardly at him, not feeling confident in his jacket and definitely not looking as good as him in it.

Just like he could see right through your mind, he said, “It looks good on you!”

“Thanks,” you shyly muttered to him.

“Shall we go now and continue our date?” he asked.

Your heart flipped at the word date, so Kim was right, it was a date after all. You nodded at him and began following him as he parted the sea of people filling in the place, your feet were on the floor, but you felt like you were floating.

“I’m sorry that we can’t have proper dinner meals,” he said to you as the both of you sat on the cap of the car with burgers and fries you bought from the drive-thru, looking out at the city view from the top of the parking building.

You smiled at him, “it’s more than alright! I love burgers!” you said to him with such enthusiasm.

Seungmin bit into his burger, “I’m sorry about your blouse,”

You swallowed the food in your mouth, “No worries. It’s just a blouse!”

When both of you were done with the food, you stared out at the view and enjoyed the pleasant night, despite the cold air kept blowing in your way, you were glad you were wearing his jacket.

“Kim said you were a quiet kid in kindergarten,” you told him.

“I still am,” he responded with a low chuckle.

“I’m not sure about that, you are a different kind of quiet,” you said, you shoved your hands into the pockets of the jacket.

“Yeah?” he asked, “What kind of quiet?”

You hummed, “The kind of quiet that is not because you don’t have anything to say, it’s actually the opposite, you have so many things to say but decide to only say things that people could perceive,”

Seungmin got quiet because he felt like you just saw through him.

You turned your head at him, “It’s okay to talk your thoughts out, you know, who knows you might find someone that understands you,” you finished with a smile.

Seungmin intently looked into your eyes and smiled, “I think I already did,” he said.

He was slowly leaning in at you when raindrops suddenly came pouring down on you, your hands covering your head, while Seungmin grabbed your hand and took you back into the car.

He opened the backseat door, and you hurried into the car so he could get in after you, you wiped the drops of water on his jacket with your hands and from your face, afraid that it ruined your make-up.

"I didn't know that it will rain today," he said as soon as closed the car door.

"I think it's the spring rain," you crooned and hugged yourself.

When it got quiet, the limited space of the car got a lot smaller by the second and none of you wanted to break it.

Seungmin cleared his throat and broke the heightened tension, "You know, Kim and I, we're just friends," he uttered out of the blue.

You already knew that he would say something about it at one point in the evening but didn't know he would choose this moment, were you both in the car and surrounded by the pattering of the rain.

"Yeah, I know," you told him, you shoved your hands into the jacket pockets, mostly to avoid the urge to touch him since his knee is only inches away from yours.

Seungmin got quiet again and shifted on his seat, "but you did think that I like Kim?"

You stifled a nod, "I got so used to being Kim's wingman," you joked.

Seungmin scooted closer to you on the seat, "Can I tell you something?" He asked.

You turned your head at him, "yes,"

"I like you," he said with eyes unwavering, looking deep into yours, "I like you a lot," he emphasized the last word to let you know how much feeling he has for you.

You smiled at him despite the burning feeling of blurting out how you felt about him to the tiniest details, but for now, you settled with, "I like you too," you said back, "a lot,"

A smile rose on his face, ever so softly, so gently as the sun rises. He leaned in so close, and you closed your eyes, soon after, you felt the plush of his lips on you.

Your heart palpitation and hands balled into fists inside the jacket pockets when he put his hand on your jaw. He opened his mouth and captured your lips between his, brushing his lips over yours like he was savoring a cone of ice cream.

He used his tongue to pry open your mouth until you gave in yourself, opening your mouth to him with a delightful sigh.

He didn't waste any time to taste you, invading your mouth with his tongue and twirling it with yours.

The kiss was slippery and hot, his fingers wrapped around the side of your jaw while his thumb steadily pulled your mouth down to keep it open.

You reclined on the seat and let him deepen the kiss, finally braved yourself to get your hands out of your pocket and tangled them in the soft of his hair.

The sounds of the rain hitting the roof of the car drowned out the smooching sound of your kisses and the occasional sighs you let out against his lips.

He pulled away slowly, swiped his thumb over your swollen, red lips, glistening wet with a mix of his saliva and yours.

His hand traced down your neck and stopped at the base of your throat, to where the top button of your jacket rested.

You gave him a nod of permission, and he acknowledged it, he began working to open it one by one. His eyes followed to where his hand worked while you were watching his face with his mouth slightly open.

Seungmin swallowed once he was done unbuttoning your jacket, he sighed when he put his hand underneath and slowly revealed your skin inch by inch, parting the jacket open and sliding it off one shoulder.

He whimpered as his fingers trailed your collarbone and the skin under your bra strap, "you're so soft," he softly muttered.

You bit your lower lip to fight the urge to kiss him and failed, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt then crashed your lips on his.

While your lips were connected in a long, passionate kiss, Seungmin ran his hand down your chest then gripped your waist to hoist you up onto his lap.

You gasped when your mouths unattached and straddled him with your legs on each side of his, your face hovered only inches away from each other. He reclined on the seat, with his head tilted up at you. You looked into his eyes, clouded with lust and intensely staring at you.

He placed his hands on your waist, and you shuddered when his hands moved to the small of your back, roaming on the skin, and you could feel the roughness of his fingerpads.

He withdrew one hand and reached up to cup your cheek, "you're so beautiful," he said to you, swiping his thumb over your lower lip.

You smiled at his praise, shyly looked down at his chest, that even with his clothes still on, you could feel the firm of his muscles under your touch. You put your hands on his shoulders and traced the broad of his shoulders, your breath quickened since it was something you badly wanted to do.

Seungmin slowly pulled you by your chin to plant a soft kiss on your lips, a kiss that escalated things where both of your bodies pressed close together.

Your hands were in his hair while his hands were all over your body, he dragged his lips down to your neck and began kissing the thin, sensitive skin making you softly moan into his hair.

He slid the jacket down your shoulder, slipping his finger under the strap of your bra then placed a tender kiss on your collarbone.

You put your hands around his neck as he made a trail of kisses across your chest, tilting your head up and pressing your lips together to muffle your moans.

The rain has turned into a drizzle, but the window started to fog, the space inside the car shrunken by the seconds, and all you did was pull him closer and closer until there was no gap left between your bodies.

Seungmin sank his mouth on the skin between your breasts with his hands wrapped you tightly in his embrace.

When he looked up at you, you smiled at him then gave his lips a quick peck.

Seungmin lifted his head to capture your lips into a kiss again, and you softly laughed against his lips.

For a moment, you were so caught in the moment you didn't realize your phone was ringing, and you tried to ignore it, but it kept on ringing.

You winced, "I'm really sorry," you said to him, then got off of his to get your phone from inside your purse on the front seat, you quickly punched the accept call button.

"How was it? How was the date? Where did he take you?" Kim shot you questions the second you picked up the phone, you glanced at Seungmin in unease, afraid he could hear her through the phone.

"Kim, I'll call you later," you quickly replied.

"What? Why? Don't tell me you're making out right now? Holy sh-"

You abruptly ended the call and put your phone back in the car, you sat back next to him again in the backseat.

It was so quiet and dark in the car, beads of water rolling down the car window.

Seungmin took your hand in his and held it, "I'm sorry that I couldn't take you on a proper date," he said to you.

You turned your head at him, "I like it. I like the elements of surprise," you playfully commented.

"I'm glad," he said with a low laugh.

Even in the dim light, you could see his eyes crinkled as he looked at you.

"Ready to go home?" He asked.

Deep down, you just wanted to stay with him a little longer or if you could, spend as much time with him as possible yet you nodded at him, "yes," you answered.

Seungmin reached for your jacket and pulled it close, you began buttoning them yourself. Seungmin helped you fix your hair by putting strands of hair behind your ears, "you're so beautiful," he murmured, it felt nice to hear the praise again, and you could tell that it was sincere.

When you were about to say something but his lips were already got ahead of you, kissing you briefly to leave a taste of his lips before letting it go with a sweet smile.

Arrived in front of your apartment building, Seungmin parked his car in the parking lot. He immediately got out of the car to open your car door, and it took you by surprise that something like this happen to you.

Seungmin walked you to the entrance of the building but did not get in.

You turned around to face him, "thank you for today," you said to him.

He grabbed your hand and clasped it with his, "no, thank you for not running away from the date," he joked.

You laughed, "I had a great time,"

"Me too," he said back, squeezing your hand then rubbing the skin on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Your jacket," you jolted when you remembered you were still wearing his jacket, "if you don't mind waiting, I'll change my clothes and give it to you,"

He shook his head, "you can give it back to me tomorrow,"

"Okay," you responded.

You didn't know how long you stood there facing each other, looking at each other’s eyes, and was not quite ready to part for the day.

"I should go," he said, but his feet nailed to the ground.

"Okay,"

"Okay," he said back.

You giggled at how adorable he looked, you initiated first, stood on your tiptoe, and kissed him on the mouth.

"Goodnight!" you said to him and slowly let go of his hands.

Seungmin shyly smiled then said, "Goodnight!"

You waved your hands at him before starting climbing the stairs to get to your studio, and once again felt like you were walking on clouds.

We have to talk!

Seungmin said in his text.

You knew that nothing good ever comes out of those words, and it was the first text Seungmin sent to you that day. You got fidgety in your seat during the first class, couldn't focus on whatever the lecturer was saying at the front of the class.

Is there something wrong?

You typed a reply with your phone under the desk.

Meet me in the library after class

The class will end in fifteen minutes, and your feet bounce in anxiety under the table, counting down the seconds that lead to it. All kinds of thoughts rushed through your head, and none of them helped to calm you down. Because all you think about was if Seungmin has a second thought about dating you. When the class ended, you still couldn’t decide whether you should be excited or scared.

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