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odins-archives · 3 days ago

Text

ONCE UPON A TIME

DISNEY X JUJITSU KAISEN CROSSOVER MASTERLIST.

in honour of my blog hitting 2K followers, I'll be having an event!! (of sorts)

content warnings: 18+, smut, angst, top and bottom reader depending on the story, ftm reader in 1 fic, ftm character in 1 fic, flower language, too much plot.

status: about to begin

comment to be tagged!!

dividers belong to @edensrose

LAVENDER'S BLUE

Starring...

Gojo Saturo as Prince Charming,

and

the Reader as Cinderella

cast: Geto as the Evil Stepfather, Mimiko and Nanako as the Evil Stepsisters, Toji as the Captain, Shoko as the Fairy Godmother, Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara as the mice,[etc].

synopsis:

Your life’s never been a fairytale. With a cruel stepmother, two spiteful stepsisters, and no way out, you’ve learned to keep your head down and dream in silence. That is, until a reckless, too-handsome prince crashes into your world—one who’s just as desperate to escape his own.

Two strangers. One night. And a chance to finally run.

A WHOLE NEW WORLD

Starring...

Choso Kamo as Princess Jasmine

and

the Reader as Alladin

cast: Gojo as the Genie, Geto as Choso's man in waiting, Megumi as Abu, Gakuganji as the Sultan, Mahito as Jafar, Yuuji as Rajah, Toji as the military general, etc.

synopsis:

You’ve always survived with quick hands and quicker lies, never expecting more from life than the next stolen meal. But when a chance encounter pulls you into the palace—and into the orbit of a quiet, sharp-eyed royal—you find yourself tangled in something far bigger than either of you imagined.

In a city of secrets, maybe the greatest risk is letting someone truly see you.

UNDER THE SEA

Starring...

Suguru Geto as Ariel

and

the Reader as Prince Eric

cast: Yaga as King Triton, Gojo as Flounder, Nanami as Sebastian, Shoko as Scuttle, Kenjaku as Ursula, Kaori as Vanessa, Utahime as Grimsby, Megumi as Max, etc.

synopsis:

The sea has always sung to you. But it isn’t until you’re pulled from its depths by a stranger with eyes like ink and a voice that haunts your dreams that you start listening.

He doesn’t speak. He walks like he’s learning how. And something about him feels like déjà vu wrapped in salt and longing.

Three days. That’s how long you have before you lose him forever.

And he? He’s already given everything just to be by your side.

DAYS IN THE SUN

Starring...

Sukuna Ryomen as the Beast

and

the Reader as Belle

cast: Naoya as Gaston, old jjk dude as reader's dad, Gojo as Lumiere, Geto as Cogsworth, Shoko as the swan brush thing, Kaori Itadori as Missus Potts, Yuuji as Chip, etc.

synopsis:

In a quiet town where nothing ever seems to change, your life is far from peaceful. When your father is taken by a mysterious monster who demands you take his place, it feels like there’s nothing left to hold on to. At home, you’ve never known love or warmth—only distance and silence.

So, when the chance to escape comes, even under such dark circumstances, you’re left wondering if there’s more to this strange creature than what you’ve been told.

FIXER UPPER

Starring...

Toji Fushiguro as Kristoff

and

the Reader as Princess Anna

cast: Geto as Elsa, Shoko as Olaf, Megumi as Sven, Nanami as the Duke of Weselton, etc.

synopsis: In a kingdom frozen by a mysterious curse, you set off on a journey to find your estranged brother. With only a few trusted companions by your side, you venture into the wilds, hoping to uncover the truth behind the cold that has gripped your world.

Along the way, you’ll face challenges that test your strength and your heart, but nothing can prepare you for the secrets that lie ahead. As you unravel the mystery, you begin to question who you can truly trust—and whether you can break the curse before it consumes everything.

EVER EVER AFTER

Starring...

Kento Nanami as Robert

and

the Reader as Giselle

cast: Gojo as Edward, Geto as Nancy, Yuuji as Pip, Shoko as Queen Narissa, Toji as Nathaniel, etc

synopsis:

You were on the brink of your fairy tale come true—soon to marry a charming prince in a world of magic and dreams. But when a jealous spellcaster drags you into the harsh, unforgiving real world, your fantasy shatters. Lost and out of place in a city that doesn't believe in happily ever afters, you find an unexpected ally in a cynical man who has long dismissed such notions.

As he helps you navigate the struggles of this new world, you begin to question everything you thought you knew about love. Torn between the prince you were meant to marry and the real, grounded connection you start to form, you must choose which kind of love is worth fighting for.

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odins-archives · 3 days ago

Text

ONCE UPON A TIME

DISNEY X JUJITSU KAISEN CROSSOVER MASTERLIST.

in honour of my blog hitting 2K followers, I'll be having an event!! (of sorts)

content warnings: 18+, smut, angst, top and bottom reader depending on the story, ftm reader in 1 fic, ftm character in 1 fic, flower language, too much plot.

status: about to begin

comment to be tagged!!

dividers belong to @edensrose

LAVENDER'S BLUE

Starring...

Gojo Saturo as Prince Charming,

and

the Reader as Cinderella

cast: Geto as the Evil Stepfather, Mimiko and Nanako as the Evil Stepsisters, Toji as the Captain, Shoko as the Fairy Godmother, Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara as the mice,[etc].

synopsis:

Two strangers. One night. And a chance to finally run.

A WHOLE NEW WORLD

Starring...

Choso Kamo as Princess Jasmine

and

the Reader as Alladin

cast: Gojo as the Genie, Geto as Choso's man in waiting, Megumi as Abu, Gakuganji as the Sultan, Mahito as Jafar, Yuuji as Rajah, Toji as the military general, etc.

synopsis:

In a city of secrets, maybe the greatest risk is letting someone truly see you.

UNDER THE SEA

Starring...

Suguru Geto as Ariel

and

the Reader as Prince Eric

cast: Yaga as King Triton, Gojo as Flounder, Nanami as Sebastian, Shoko as Scuttle, Kenjaku as Ursula, Kaori as Vanessa, Utahime as Grimsby, Megumi as Max, etc.

synopsis:

The sea has always sung to you. But it isn’t until you’re pulled from its depths by a stranger with eyes like ink and a voice that haunts your dreams that you start listening.

He doesn’t speak. He walks like he’s learning how. And something about him feels like déjà vu wrapped in salt and longing.

Three days. That’s how long you have before you lose him forever.

And he? He’s already given everything just to be by your side.

DAYS IN THE SUN

Starring...

Sukuna Ryomen as the Beast

and

the Reader as Belle

cast: Naoya as Gaston, old jjk dude as reader's dad, Gojo as Lumiere, Geto as Cogsworth, Shoko as the swan brush thing, Kaori Itadori as Missus Potts, Yuuji as Chip, etc.

synopsis:

So, when the chance to escape comes, even under such dark circumstances, you’re left wondering if there’s more to this strange creature than what you’ve been told.

FIXER UPPER

Starring...

Toji Fushiguro as Kristoff

and

the Reader as Princess Anna

cast: Geto as Elsa, Shoko as Olaf, Megumi as Sven, Nanami as the Duke of Weselton, etc.

EVER EVER AFTER

Starring...

Kento Nanami as Robert

and

the Reader as Giselle

cast: Gojo as Edward, Geto as Nancy, Yuuji as Pip, Shoko as Queen Narissa, Toji as Nathaniel, etc

synopsis:

#odins library

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odins-archives · 4 days ago

Text

BACKSTAGE

pairing: gyeongsu x top male reader

content warnings: 18+, public sex, reader is a bouncer, timeskip (the smut starts abruptly), mentions of a threesome, rawdogging, full nelson.

word count: 0.9k

The bass rattled through the air like a second heartbeat, the whole venue thrumming with life as fans screamed Thanos’ name. Purple-tinted lights painted the crowd in neon waves, reflecting off the sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, lost in the music. The scent of smoke, cheap beer, and overpriced cologne swirled through the electric atmosphere.

You stood near the entrance, arms crossed, watching for any trouble. Being one of Thanos’ bodyguards meant you had a front-row seat to the chaos, ensuring no overzealous fan slipped through. Which was exactly why you narrowed your eyes when you caught sight of a young man lingering near the entrance, looking far too suspicious.

He was trying too hard to blend in, shifting on his feet, eyes darting left and right. A hoodie covered most of his face, but you could still see the anticipation in his features. It wasn’t long before he noticed you watching and stiffened.

“You don’t have a ticket, do you?” you asked, stepping closer. The music pulsed around you, drowning out most of the outside world, but your voice cut through it effortlessly.

The guy—no, the boy—he barely looked twenty—flashed you a sheepish smile, pushing his hood back slightly. His dark hair was a little damp from the humid air, sticking to his forehead.

“I just wanted to see Thanos perform,” he admitted, voice nearly lost in the pounding bass. “I—I’m a huge fan. I didn’t have the money for a ticket, but I had to try.”

Desperation clung to him like a second skin, his eyes wide, pleading. “I’ll do anything. Just—please, let me in.”

That caught your attention.

You raised a brow, tilting your head slightly. “Anything?”

The moment the word left your mouth, his breath hitched. His lips parted slightly, realisation sinking in as his cheeks darkened under the dim glow of the neon lights.

You didn’t give him a chance to second-guess. Instead, you grabbed his wrist, firm but not rough, and led him past the crowd, past security, straight through the side entrance. He stumbled slightly, keeping up as best he could, but he didn’t resist. If anything, there was something eager in the way he followed.

—

Backstage was quieter, but not by much. The vibrations of the concert still hummed through the walls, the occasional roar of the crowd seeping through the thick curtains. The hallway was dimly lit, casting flickering shadows along the walls as you led him into one of the more secluded corners of the venue.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, he barely had time to take a breath before you had him pressed against it.

“You really will do anything, huh?”

His breath was uneven, fingers twitching against the cool surface of the door. “Y-Yeah.”

That was all the permission you needed.

Your lips crashed against his, and he barely had time to gasp before you took everything from him—breath, thought, control. His hands grasped at your shoulders, trying to find something to hold onto as you devoured him whole.

The heat between you built fast, his body arching into yours with each stolen breath. You deepened the kiss, tilting his chin up, making sure he had no choice but to let you take the lead. His breaths came out in shaky gasps between kisses, his body already trembling as you pushed him further against the door.

His lips were already swollen when you pulled back slightly, just enough to let your breath fan over his skin. His eyes fluttered open, glassy with need, lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words– moaning loudly instead when your hand flicked his nipple through the fabric of his shirt.

Your hands roamed down his waist, gripping his hips firmly, pressing him fully against you, before sliding them down to pull his pants off with a firm tug. He gasped against your lips, hands sliding up your arms before curling into your hair, pulling slightly as he tried to keep up with your pace.

—

Sloppy, wet sounds filled the small space, the concert noise outside nothing but a distant memory. His head was spinning, his knees weak, and you loved every second of it. Every time you pulled out of his hole just enough to let him relax, he pulled you right back in, milking you for what you were worth.

“You okay there, baby?” you teased, lips brushing against his jaw as he panted softly.

He nodded, barely able to form words. “Y-Yeah… just—fuck—”

Before he could finish, you took his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly, making his breath hitch. His entire body shuddered, and you swallowed his next moan, your hands gripping his waist tighter as he clenched around your throbbing cock.

He was completely at your mercy, letting you kiss him dizzy, hands clinging onto you for dear life. His lips were slick, breath coming out in uneven, needy gasps as you finally pulled back, admiring the wrecked look on his face.

But before either of you could say a word, a new voice cut through the air.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

You both turned sharply, only to find Thanos standing in the doorway, his infamous purple hair still damp from the sweat of the performance, his microphone hanging loosely in his hand. His grin was nothing short of entertained, but there was something else in his expression. Something… intrigued.

“You’re a bold one,” he mused, stepping closer. His eyes flicked to Gyeong-su’s ass, then back to you, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “Mind if I join?”

The guy in your arms swallowed hard, eyes darting between the two of you, his breath still unsteady.

You smirked, fingers trailing down Gyeong-su’s spine as you whispered, “That’s up to him.”

#odins library

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odins-archives · 6 days ago

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LUXURY COMES AT A PRICE

pairing: sangwoo x top male reader

content warnings: 18+, sangwoo is a sugar baby, drunk sex, nipple pinching, overstimulation, no explicit sex (parts arent really mentioned), motel sex :/

word count: 2.1k

The neon buzz of the city blurred in Sang-woo’s vision, distorted by the haze of alcohol and the weight of his own misfortune. He stumbled along the sidewalk, his suit wrinkled, his tie loosened to the point of uselessness. His breath reeked of soju, and his pockets were empty—except for a few crumpled bills that wouldn’t even buy him salvation.

A debt-ridden man, a disgrace to his mother, a failure in every sense of the word.

He laughed bitterly at himself, rubbing a hand down his face as he leaned against a lamppost, trying to stop the world from spinning.

“You look like you could use some help,” a voice interrupted his misery.

Sang-woo looked up, his drunken mind taking a moment to register the man standing before him. Foreign. Young—too young, maybe mid-20s. Well-dressed in a way that wasn’t obnoxious, but exuded wealth. Confidence. Power. Everything Sang-woo didn’t have.

“Get lost,” Sang-woo muttered, turning away.

“Now, now,” the stranger chuckled. “Is that any way to talk to someone offering a solution to your problems?”

Sang-woo should’ve ignored him. He should’ve kept walking and let the liquor lull him into unconsciousness in some alleyway. But he didn’t. Because something about this man was… intoxicating.

And he was too far gone to resist the lure of something—anything—that wasn’t misery.

The stranger stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I can give you money. Shelter. A little comfort, even. All you have to do is say yes.”

Sang-woo scoffed. “And what do you want in return?”

The man smirked, brushing imaginary lint off his sleeve. “You.”

It took a second for the words to register. Sang-woo let out a dry, humourless laugh. “You want me to be your sugar baby?”

“Precisely.”

Sang-woo wanted to be disgusted. He wanted to feel ashamed, but instead, all he felt was exhaustion. He had nothing left. No pride, no dignity. Just debt and an inevitable demise.

What did he have to lose?

“…Fine.”

—

The motel room was nicer than Sang-woo expected. Clean sheets, warm lighting, a faint scent of something expensive lingering in the air. He sat on the edge of the bed, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek as the stranger watched him, amused.

“You’re so tense,” the man mused, unbuttoning his own shirt cuffs. “Relax. I won’t bite—unless you ask.”

Sang-woo exhaled sharply, glaring at him. “Just get on with it.”

The man hummed, stepping closer. One hand tilted Sang-woo’s chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“You’re really bad at being taken care of, aren’t you?”

Before Sang-woo could respond, lips pressed against his, soft but demanding. It had been so long since he’d been kissed—since he’d been touched in any way that didn’t feel like desperation. His body betrayed him, leaning into it, his fingers gripping the sheets like he was trying to ground himself.

The man took his time, exploring Sang-woo’s mouth with a teasing slowness that made heat coil in his stomach. When he pulled back, Sang-woo was already breathless, his lips wet and slightly swollen.

“You’re shaking,” the man observed, running his thumb over Sang-woo’s bottom lip.

“I’m not,” Sang-woo rasped, but his voice wavered.

“Liar.”

The next kiss was deeper, messier. A hand slid down Sang-woo’s chest, over the fabric of his shirt, before slipping underneath. Fingers traced the ridges of his ribs, the sharp outline of a man who had clearly forgotten to eat his meals.

“You’re all bones,” the man murmured against his lips, his voice dark with something unreadable. “Has anyone taken care of you properly before?”

Sang-woo didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he might actually break.

The man pushed him back against the bed, lips trailing down his neck, slow and indulgent like he had all the time in the world. His hands wandered with a familiarity they shouldn’t have, mapping out the curve of Sang-woo’s body, brushing deliberately over the places that made his breath catch and his muscles twitch.

It was humiliating—how fast he unravelled. How easily this stranger, with gentle fingers and a dangerously calm voice, peeled away his defences. He tried to keep quiet, biting down hard, fists twisted into the sheets like that would keep him grounded. But he couldn’t stop the tremble in his thighs, the way his spine arched when those hands dragged down with purpose.

“You’re so sensitive,” the man murmured, voice low and velvet-smooth. His lips hovered just beneath Sang-woo’s jaw, warm breath ghosting over flushed skin.

Sang-woo’s eyes screwed shut, face contorting in something between shame and unbearable arousal. “Shut up.”

But the man didn’t. He never did. Instead, he leaned in, kissed him again—deep and slow—like he was savouring every shaky breath Sang-woo exhaled. Like he was feeding on the little noises Sang-woo tried so hard not to make.

And God, Sang-woo hated that his body betrayed him. That his hips twitched forward when they shouldn’t. That he made a strangled, broken sound when the man pressed down harder onto his crotch, more firmly, coaxing him into a state of helpless, involuntary surrender.

He didn’t know when he started trembling, or when his arms wrapped around the man’s shoulders to pull him closer—not to stop him, but to chase the unbearable heat building in every inch of him. He could feel it rising, overwhelming, cruel in its sweetness. And he hated how badly he needed it.

“Don’t hold back,” the man whispered against his mouth, his tone dark with amusement but laced with something... gentler, almost reverent. “Let me hear you.”

Sang-woo shook his head—denying it, denying himself—but it was useless.

He broke.

The sound tore out of him—high, wounded, needy—and once it started, he couldn’t stop. The moans spilled out one after the other, shaky and raw, as his body arched helplessly beneath the stranger. There was no pride left, no shame he could cling to. Just sensation. Just release.

The man smiled against his throat, lips curling smugly as he slowed down, dragging it out with calculated cruelty. “Good boy.”

Sang-woo’s face burned. He turned his head away, breathing hard, barely holding back the whimper stuck in his throat. His whole body trembled in the aftermath, coated in a sheen of sweat, skin oversensitive and raw.

A hand threaded through his damp hair, careful, gentle. “You really are pretty when you cry.”

He scowled weakly, cheeks still flushed. “I hate you.”

But it came out more like a plea than an insult, and they both knew it.

The man chuckled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Hate me all you want. You’re still mine now.”

And Sang-woo, unable to move, unable to breathe right, still clinging to that final echo of pleasure… didn’t deny it.

Couldn’t.

Because somewhere in the shame, the exhaustion, and the trembling weight of being known too well—there was a part of him that wanted to be owned.

And worse—he wanted more.

—

Sang-woo was still trembling, breath hitching with every aftershock that rolled through him. The man didn’t rush—he never did. Instead, he hovered over him, eyes flicking down over Sang-woo’s ruined expression like he was committing it to memory.

“You’ve got no idea how pretty you are like this,” he murmured, brushing a thumb under Sang-woo’s eye where a tear still clung. “Every time you fall apart for me, it just gets better.”

Sang-woo turned his head, still trying to hide. But then—he flinched.

The man smirked. “Ah. There it is.”

His fingers ghosted lower, deliberately slow, brushing over Sang-woo’s chest. When he lightly traced over one of the sensitive peaks, Sang-woo gasped—a high, unguarded sound—and jerked back like he’d been burned.

“Oh?” The man leaned in, curiosity turned to mischief. “Sensitive here too?”

Sang-woo’s face went crimson. “Don’t—”

But the man ignored him, thumb brushing in slow circles before flicking—just once, deliberately.

Sang-woo choked on a noise that sounded far too close to a sob. “Fuck—stop—”

But his back arched traitorously, and his legs tensed like he was barely holding on.

“God, you’re so easy to read,” the man whispered, voice thick with heat. “You pretend you don’t like it, but your body’s begging.”

Another flick, firmer this time, followed by a soothing rub that made Sang-woo’s eyes roll back. His hands scrambled for something—anything—to grab onto. The sheets. The man’s wrist. His own pride, slipping away with every tremble.

“You hate that you’re reacting like this, don’t you?” the man murmured, now mouthing along Sang-woo’s collarbone. “But look at you. I barely touch you and you’re already falling apart again.”

“Shut up,” Sang-woo whispered hoarsely, voice wrecked.

The man smiled against his skin, biting down just enough to make Sang-woo jolt.

“Say that again,” he breathed, “but this time without moaning.”

And Sang-woo couldn’t.

Because his mouth opened, but all that came out was a sound of raw, aching need.

He was shaking, breath dragging in shallow pulls that refused to steady. His chest rose and fell like he’d run a marathon, skin flushed, slick with sweat, his eyes glassy and distant—like he was somewhere else entirely, but not sure where.

The man hovered close, never rushing, always watching.

“You’ve been holding it in too long,” he said softly, brushing Sang-woo’s hair back from his forehead. “You think if you stay quiet, if you bite your tongue hard enough, it won’t get to you.”

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Sang-woo’s ear.

“But you’re already gone, aren’t you?”

Sang-woo’s hands clenched weakly into the sheets. He didn’t answer—he couldn’t. Not when the man’s fingers roamed again, slower this time, teasing patterns across heated skin. Not when he stopped to toy with the places that made Sang-woo gasp without meaning to.

A flick over his chest, featherlight. Then another, sharper.

Sang-woo jolted.

His thighs tensed, and a ragged breath escaped him—too loud, too raw.

“Still pretending you don’t like it?” the man teased, mouth trailing down his neck, his tone a little too proud. “Because your body’s already confessed.”

Sang-woo gritted his teeth, but it was useless. Every touch dragged him deeper into the haze, pulling him under like a riptide. He wasn’t sure when it stopped being about control—maybe it never was—but he was unravelling too fast to care.

And the man knew. Every whimper, every twitch, every helpless sound Sang-woo failed to bite back only made him more insistent, more mercilessly gentle.

He cupped Sang-woo’s jaw, thumb brushing along the curve of his lips like he was memorising him.

“Let go,” he whispered. “You don’t have to fight it anymore.”

And that—that—was what broke him.

Sang-woo’s breath caught. His body arched, muscles locking tight. And then—

He shattered.

Everything blurred—the heat, the noise, the light touch against his chest that sent sparks down his spine. He barely registered the quiet murmur of praise as the man held him, whispering something soft he couldn’t understand through the ringing in his ears.

His vision went white.

And for a brief, weightless moment, Sang-woo blacked out.

When he came to, the world felt far away. Like he was floating. The man was still there, stroking his hair, grounding him with the faintest touch.

“Hey,” he said, barely above a whisper. “You’re okay.”

Sang-woo didn’t reply. His body was too heavy, his mind too quiet—emptied of everything except the lingering warmth of hands that shouldn’t have felt so kind.

He closed his eyes again, letting himself drift.

Just for a moment.

—

The motel room was quiet, save for the soft, steady rhythm of Sang-woo’s breathing. He was still asleep, curled up on his side, his face turned away from the dim light seeping through the curtains.

For a moment, you simply watched him. The way his brows furrowed even in sleep, like his mind refused to grant him peace. The way his fingers twitched against the sheets, as if even his dreams wouldn’t let him rest.

He was pitiful. And yet, utterly beautiful in his brokenness.

With a quiet hum, you reached for the small stack of bills on the nightstand, smoothing them out before placing them neatly within his reach. A first taste of what was to come. A reminder that he belonged to you now.

Then, you stood, gathering your things, dressing with unhurried ease. The final piece was waiting for you near the door—a sleek, ornate mask, carefully crafted and unmistakable in its design. The mark of a VIP.

You lifted it, running a thumb over the intricate details before slipping it over your face.

It was time to return to the games.

With one last glance at the sleeping man in the bed, you smirked beneath the mask.

“Sweet dreams, Sang-woo.”

Then, without another word, you stepped out, vanishing into the darkness.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 25 days ago

Text

QUIET - GYEONGSU

pairing: gyeongsu x top male reader

synopsis: You can't get him to be quiet.

content warnings: 18+,thanos is an asshole, the smut starts abruptly lol, dumbification, full nelson (kinda).

word count: 0.8k

The second Thanos kicked Gyeong-su out of the group during Mingle, you knew he was screwed.

He just stood there, frozen, as the remaining groups turned their backs on him. No one wanted dead weight. No one wanted to take a risk. And Gyeong-su—despite his sharp tongue and quick temper—looked small. Like he’d just been tossed into the deep end and left to drown.

You clicked your tongue.

“Tch.”

Before you could even think about it, you grabbed his wrist.

He flinched, turning to you with wide eyes. “Wha—?”

“Shut up and move.”

You yanked him forward without waiting for a response, scanning the crowd. Most groups were already full, people standing in tight little circles, making their bonds clear.

Then you spotted two guys lingering near the back, hesitating.

You strode right up to them. “Us four.”

They looked between you and Gyeong-su, uncertain, but when the alternative was death, people didn’t argue. The moment the timer ran out, you and Gyeong-su were still standing.

Gyeong-su, however? He had barely moved an inch away from you for the rest of the night.

Back at the bunks, it was immediate. The second you sat down, Gyeong-su flopped next to you. Not just near you—on you. Practically latched to your side like a damn barnacle.

“You saved me,” he said.

You groaned. “Oh my god.”

“No, but seriously. If you hadn’t—”

“You’d be dead. Yeah. I know.”

“I just—why?” His voice was quieter now, almost unsure. “You didn’t have to.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Because I felt like it. Stop thinking about it so much.”

He huffed, but you knew he wasn’t letting it go.

He didn’t say anything else, but he also didn’t leave you alone for the rest of the night. When lights-out rolled around and you pushed yourself up with a sigh, Gyeong-su immediately straightened.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” you muttered.

“I’ll come with you.”

You raised a brow. “You scared of the dark or something?”

He scoffed. “What? No. Just—you know. Safety in numbers.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.

The second you stepped into the bathroom, Gyeong-su turned to you, face unusually serious.

“Seriously,” he said. “If there’s anything I can do to repay you, just say the word.”

You let out a slow sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Actually, there is.”

He straightened. “Yeah? What?”

Instead of answering, you grabbed his collar and yanked him into the nearest stall.

“Wh—” His breath hitched as his back hit the door. Before he could say anything else, your mouth was on his.

–

Gyeongsu’s hands scrambled for something to hold onto. He gripped your arms, then your waist, then your shirt like he was trying to ground himself. The kiss turned messy fast—wet, desperate, all teeth and tongue. You could feel how warm he was, how shaky his hands were as they moved up to your shoulders.

You pressed closer, pushing your cock further into him, finding places he didn’t even know existed.

He gasped.

You grinned against his lips. “You’re so loud.”

“S-shut up,” he stammered, trying to catch his breath.

But then you snapped your hips against his.

He choked on a moan, fingers digging into your shirt.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, pressing your forehead to his. “Will you shut up?”

“I—I’m trying,” he whined. His head tipped back against the stall door, breathing heavy. “But you’re not making it easy.”

“Not my problem.” You licked into his mouth again, swallowing the next sound that slipped out of him.

He trembled, legs barely holding him up at this point.

His fingers found the hem of your shirt, curling into the fabric like he was holding on for dear life.

You slid a hand into his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him gasp.

“Quiet,” you warned again.

He bit his lip, nodding shakily.

You smirked. Cute.

You kissed him again, slower this time, drawing it out. His breath hitched, his body pressing completely into yours now. The warmth of him, the way you fit in him perfectly, almost like you were molding him out—it was intoxicating.

You felt yourself release before you even registered it. He moaned, head hitting the wall behind him. His eyes scrunched as he came– staining your shirt, which was already wrinkled.

You leaned your forehead against his and breathed deep. His legs were still trembling.

By the time you pulled back, he was a wreck. Flushed, breathless, pupils blown wide.

You tilted your head. “That shut you up?”

His lips parted, like he wanted to say something—then his brain short-circuited. He nodded dumbly.

You chuckled. “Good.”

Then you pulled both your pants back up, before unlocking the stall and patting his cheek. “Let’s get back before people notice.”

Gyeong-su blinked, still dazed, before scrambling to follow you out.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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SUB SALESMAN HEADCANNONS

pairing: salesman x top male reader

This man is a FREAK. That explains enough lmao.

I feel like he would initially be the top in a relationship, but you somehow convinced him to bottom once, and now he doesn’t want to change that dynamic anymore.

Kinky as FUCK, y’all saw the scene with the gun in his mouth– his gag reflex is almost non-existent.

He definitely enjoys sucking you off. Probably not on his knees, but with you lying down in bed or something. He may be a masochist, but he isn't laying down his pride for anyone.

He has a pain kink. May it be you choking him as you fuck into him from the back, or carving your name onto his thigh with a sharp knife, he LOVES it.

On the topic of choking, he would love to wear a collar. If you tug on it while fucking him, it’ll make him go absolutely insane.

I feel like the topic of gunplay has been brought around once or twice, with you finally agreeing after who knows how long. He pretends to be one of your victims, as like a role reversal of sorts.

He somehow manages to bring his ddakji game into your sex life. This man loses on purpose almost every single time, just so you can slap him (he gets hard instantly lmfao).

He isn’t really a fan of aftercare– as long as you don’t leave afterwards, you can just let him be there, covered in slick (and maybe blood).

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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THREE'S A CROWD - THANOS

pairing: thanos x male reader

synopsis: Getting high in the bathroom during the games is definitely not a good way to pass time, but hey- you're too out of it to care.

content warnings: 18+, smoking weed, frotting, mentions of a threesome

word count: 0.6k

This was, without a doubt, a horrible idea.

And yet, here you were—half on Thanos’s lap in a cramped bathroom stall, eyes heavy-lidded and limbs feeling light as hell. The cheap-ass joint you’d both shared was still faintly burning in his fingers, the hazy scent of weed mixing with the smell of old tile and whatever cheap soap they stocked in this prison of a facility.

Thanos took one last drag, exhaling slow and lazy, before passing it back to you. His purple hair was a mess, his eyes low and dark, and he had the dumbest, cockiest smirk on his face.

"You’re staring," he murmured. His voice was lower than usual, rough around the edges.

"You’re ugly," you shot back automatically, taking a drag.

He snorted, eyes flicking to your lips as you exhaled the smoke in his face. His hands were already resting on your waist, but his grip tightened slightly, fingers digging into your shirt.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then you leaned in, slow, deliberate, lips barely brushing his. "What? You nervous?"

Thanos clicked his tongue. "Shut up."

And then he kissed you, rough and uncoordinated, like he had something to prove.

You grinned into it, tugging at his hair just to hear the little grunt he let out. His hands twitched on your waist, and god, he was holding on so tight. The kiss turned sloppy real quick, all heat and hands and desperation like neither of you had the patience for anything else.

"You—" Thanos broke off with a sharp inhale when you shifted against him. "Fuck, you’re—"

Outside, the bathroom was silent.

Inside? Just the sound of heavy breathing, quiet gasps, and the occasional creak of the stall door when you moved too much.

Without a word, Thanos pushed you off his lap, your ass hitting the ground with a light thug.

“Oi! What the fuck–” Your words are immediately silenced when he shimmies his pants down while still sitting on the closed toilet. His cock springs out, hard and leaking pre.

You got up carefully, trying your hardest not to make a sound. It would not be good if a guard walked in on the two of you.

You tugged your pants down, cock springing out– before settling back down on his lap, so that both your dicks were almost touching.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea–” He breaks off, eyes wide as you wrap one of your hands around both your cocks.

You teasingly dragged your hand up and down your lengths, your other hand soon joining in. Both your hands were pumping your cocks in a similar fashion, as Thanos’s grip on your waist tightened even more.

Your mouth practically latched onto his neck, sucking and biting at whatever skin you found exposed. His eyes scrunched shut, whatever state the weed gave him was slowly starting to disappear, replaced by the feeling of your hands on him, your mouth on him. He could feel you everywhere.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he came without warning, shuddering as his cock spurted on yours, giving you enough slick to get to your own release.

"You okay there?" you teased, dragging your lips down his jaw.

"Shut up," he gritted out, gripping your waist even tighter.

You barely had time to smirk before—

The stall door rattled.

You both froze.

Footsteps.

Silence.

Then—

The lock clicked.

The door cracked open, and a guard just stood there, red mask tilted slightly as he took in the absolute mess in front of him.

Your brain short-circuited.

Thanos, still half-dazed, just blinked up at him. "...Yo."

The guard looked left. Looked right.

Then?

He stepped inside and shut the stall behind him.

You stared. "Huh?"

Thanos just grinned. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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PROJECT WOES - CHEONGSAN

pairing: lee cheong-san x reader

synopsis: The two of you fight. A lot. Neither of you really know why thought. What happens when the both of you get partnered up for a project?

content warnings: They just make out lol, everything is pretty tame here.

word count: 0.6k

Cheongsan had never hated a school project more in his life.

And that was saying something.

There were a lot of things he could tolerate. Long nights cramming for exams? Fine. Dodging Gwi-nam’s bullshit every day? Manageable. But this? This?

This was hell.

"You can stop glaring now," you said, not even looking up from your phone.

He scoffed, dropping his bag onto your desk with more force than necessary. "I’m not the problem here."

You snorted. "Yeah? Then why do you look constipated?"

He exhaled sharply, biting back a very colourful response. "Because I’d rather be doing anything else right now."

"Wow. Your flirting skills are amazing."

He shot you a glare, but you just grinned, clearly enjoying his suffering.

The worst part?

No one—not even he—knew why the hell you two were like this.

You didn’t hate each other. You weren’t enemies. Hell, you were even chill with his friends.

But with him?

For some reason, every conversation turned into a verbal sparring match. Every single time.

And now, thanks to this godforsaken history project, he was stuck in your room for the next two hours, listening to you be insufferable.

"Alright, let’s get this over with." You slid your laptop in front of him. "You write, I research."

Cheongsan frowned. "Why do I have to write?"

"Because your handwriting looks like an AI-generated font."

"And you think I’m constipated? Damn, you are flirting."

"Cheongsan, please. I have standards."

He gawked at you, absolutely seething. "You—"

"Oi, brats!" Your older sister’s voice rang through the hallway. "If you break anything, you’re both dead!"

"We’re fine!" you called back. Then, turning back to Cheongsan, you smirked. "You might not be, though."

Cheongsan grumbled under his breath and cracked his knuckles, forcing himself to focus. "Let’s just start."

For a while, it was fine.

Mostly.

You still annoyed him every five minutes. He still snarked back. But the work was getting done.

And then?

It happened.

To this day, Cheongsan still wouldn’t know what exactly changed.

Maybe it was the way you leaned over his shoulder, way too close as you pointed at something on his laptop screen.

Maybe it was the way your breath fanned against his ear, the scent of your shampoo way too distracting.

Maybe it was the way he turned his head just as you looked up—only for your faces to be inches apart, the heat between you shifting from hostile to something... completely different.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you spoke.

The room felt way too quiet.

And then—

Your lips were on his.

Cheongsan barely had time to process before his body reacted—grabbing onto you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss before he could even think about what he was doing.

And god, it was good.

He should’ve expected you to be a tease, but the way you nipped at his bottom lip, the way you tilted your head just right—it was unfair.

His grip tightened on your waist, fingers digging in, and you hummed against his mouth, a low, satisfied sound that sent a shiver down his spine.

His brain was screaming at him, but he did not care.

Not when you pushed him back against your desk, not when your hands slid under his hoodie, not when you—

"WHAT THE FUCK."

Cheongsan jerked away so fast he almost fell over.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. "Goddamn it."

Your sister stood in the doorway, horrified. "In my house? In my presence?!"

"Technically, it’s my house too," you muttered.

"Not the point!"

Cheongsan was mortified.

Your sister pointed an accusatory finger at the two of you. "You owe me therapy. Both of you."

Then, with a dramatic shudder, she slammed the door shut behind her.

Silence.

Then—

You snorted.

And then Cheongsan snorted.

And then the both of you were wheezing, half-doubled over in laughter, because what the hell just happened?

"I hate you," Cheongsan wheezed, shaking his head.

You grinned, smug as ever. "Yeah?" You leaned in, brushing your lips against his ear. "You kiss me like you don’t."

His face burned. "Shut up."

But when you kissed him again, he didn’t exactly stop you.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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OLD HABITS DIE HARD - SUHYEOK

pairing: lee suhyeok x male reader

synopsis: Suhyeok finds his childhood bestfriend being the exact thing that used to torment him all those years ago, will his feelings for him still change?

content warnings: reader is a bully, bullying, TENSIONN, childhhod best friends to enemies (to lovers?), making out, no actual smut.

word count: 1.0k

A/N: Might make a part 2 with smut much much later lol

Suhyeok had seen a lot of things in this school—fights, drama, kids trying to prove themselves to people who didn’t give a damn.

But this?

This wasn’t something he could just walk past.

"Hey." His voice cut through the hallway, sharp and low.

The scene in front of him was all too familiar—Gwi-nam and his little pack of vultures circling a girl pressed against the lockers, their laughter grating against his nerves. The way she shrank under their gaze made his stomach churn.

But what really set him off—what had his fingers curling into fists at his sides—was you.

Standing right there with them.

You, who used to be his best friend. You, who used to run around the neighbourhood with him, scuffed knees and scraped palms, sneaking into convenience stores for ice pops in the summer heat.

You, who once laughed at stupid jokes with him, not at some terrified girl cornered against a wall.

His stomach twisted. "That’s enough."

Gwi-nam barely spared him a glance. "Mind your own business, Suhyeok."

Suhyeok ignored him, stepping forward until his eyes locked onto yours. "You."

The smirk you had been wearing twitched—just for a second. Barely noticeable. But Suhyeok caught it.

"Oh?" You tilted your head, voice light, mocking. "Something wrong?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Just held your gaze, searching for something—anything—familiar behind the cool indifference on your face.

Nothing.

His jaw tightened. "This is what you are now?"

Gwi-nam scoffed. "What, you got a problem with it?"

"Yeah," Suhyeok snapped, eyes still burning into yours. "I do."

And that was the moment the tension shifted—when the playful air around you disappeared, when the teasing glint in your eyes darkened into something else entirely.

Something unreadable.

Something dangerous.

The others started laughing, already gearing up to say something snide, but you lifted a hand, silencing them with just a flick of your fingers.

Then, with a slow, deliberate step, you closed the space between you and Suhyeok—until he could feel the heat of your breath, see the way your lips curved into something almost amused.

"Always playing hero, huh?" you murmured, just for him. "That’s cute."

Suhyeok bristled. "This isn’t a game."

You just chuckled, shaking your head. "You don’t get it, do you?"

Your fingers ghosted against his wrist—not gripping, not holding, just lingering—and for some goddamn reason, it sent a jolt of heat straight through him.

"You never did."

Then, before he could react, before he could shove you off or say anything, you leaned in just enough for him to catch the faintest trace of your scent—something crisp, something familiar, something that made his stomach flip—

And then you were gone, turning back toward Gwi-nam with a lazy shrug. "Come on. This is boring."

And just like that, the moment was over.

But Suhyeok didn’t move.

Couldn’t move.

Because his pulse was still hammering in his ears, and his skin still burned where you had barely touched him.

And worst of all?

He had a feeling that this was far from over.

Suhyeok didn’t know why he was here.

Correction—he knew why. He just didn’t want to admit it.

The rooftop was empty, save for you—leaning against the railing, looking down at the schoolyard like you didn’t have a single care in the world. Like you weren’t the reason his head had been a complete mess all day.

Suhyeok exhaled sharply, stepping forward. "We need to talk."

You didn’t even turn around. "No, we don’t."

"Yeah, we do," he snapped, irritation creeping into his voice.

That made you finally look at him, one brow raised. "What’s got your panties in a twist?"

Suhyeok clenched his jaw. "You."

Silence.

Then, after a beat, you sighed, tilting your head. "And what exactly did I do?"

Suhyeok scoffed. "Are you serious?" He took another step closer, shoulders tense. "You were the one who got in my face today. You were the one who—"

His words cut off when you suddenly moved, pushing off the railing and closing the distance between you in a few slow, deliberate steps.

"Who what?" you murmured, eyes half-lidded, tone dripping with amusement.

Suhyeok froze.

You were too close now—closer than before, closer than anyone should be, but he couldn’t bring himself to step back.

"You got something to say, hero?" Your voice was softer now, teasing. "Go ahead. I’m listening."

Suhyeok opened his mouth. Then closed it.

Because he did have something to say.

Something about how you weren’t like this before. How you shouldn’t be like this now. How you were frustrating, infuriating—driving him insane—

But before he could find the right words, before he could even think, your hand brushed against his side. Just barely.

And that was it.

The tension snapped.

Suhyeok grabbed your wrist without thinking, spinning you and shoving you back against the railing. Your back hit the cold metal, but you barely had time to react before his lips crashed onto yours.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was all heat and frustration, the kind that had been bubbling under his skin since this morning. The kind that made him grip your waist way too tight, knuckles white.

And you?

You loved it.

You made a sound against his lips—somewhere between a chuckle and a moan—before gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him even closer, slotting your leg between his.

Suhyeok gasped.

That single moment of weakness was all you needed.

Your tongue flicked against his bottom lip, teasing, daring, and his knees nearly buckled. He could feel your smirk against his mouth, the way you shifted—pressing, grinding—

"Fuck," he hissed, breaking away just enough to breathe. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes dark. "You’re doing this on purpose."

You laughed, breathless. "And you’re letting me."

Suhyeok groaned, half-exasperated, half-something else, before slamming his lips back onto yours.

This time, you let him take what he wanted.

And neither of you cared who won anymore.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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WHISKEY

pairing: gihun x male reader x sangwoo

synopsis: The two of them struggle with the concept of sharing till this day.

content warnings: 18+, straddling, dry humping + grinding, making out, implied sex at the end, gihun and sangwoo decide to 'take' reader at the same time, drunk sex

word count: 2.4k

A/N: requested by @belovedengie (🌹anon)

The bar smelled like cheap beer and smoke, and it was exactly the kind of place where old friends met after too many years apart. It had been ages since the three of you sat down like this—just drinking, laughing, pushing at old wounds with playful jabs.

And, of course, Gi-hun was already drunk.

"You know," he slurred, dramatically slumping against the bar, "I think I missed you two the most."

"You think?" you scoffed, swirling your drink.

Sang-woo, the only one who still had a working liver, sighed. "You’re both so embarrassing."

Gi-hun squinted at him, wagging a wobbly finger. "And you, my friend, are too uptight. You never let loose."

"And getting blackout drunk on a Tuesday is your definition of ‘letting loose’?" Sang-woo shot back, unimpressed.

"Yes," you and Gi-hun said at the same time.

Sang-woo exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples like he was reconsidering all his life choices, but you caught the way the corner of his mouth twitched, just a little. It was easy to fall back into this rhythm—the three of you like puzzle pieces that still fit, even if time had worn down the edges.

But something felt… different.

Maybe it was the alcohol, the way it made you bolder. Maybe it was the way Gi-hun’s hand kept brushing against yours, lingering longer than it needed to. Maybe it was the way Sang-woo kept watching the two of you—not annoyed, not really, but something else. Something unreadable.

Either way, you felt warm. And it wasn’t just the whiskey.

By the time Sang-woo dragged the two of you into a cheap motel, Gi-hun had completely lost control of his limbs. He stumbled against you, laughing, his breath hot against your neck.

"Shit," you mumbled, swaying slightly. "I think I drank too much."

"You think?" Sang-woo huffed, kicking the door shut. "You two are impossible."

Gi-hun flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. "C’mon, Sang-woo, you love taking care of us."

Sang-woo shot him a flat look. "I really don’t."

You smirked, stepping forward. "Then why’d you bring us here, huh?"

Sang-woo hesitated—just for a fraction of a second. His eyes flickered between you and Gi-hun, lingering on the way you were leaning against the bed, the way Gi-hun was looking up at you, something slow and hazy in his gaze.

A muscle in Sang-woo’s jaw twitched.

"You need to sober up," he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual sharpness.

Gi-hun stretched, fingers brushing against your wrist. "Nah, I think I like this," he murmured, his voice just a little too low, just a little too warm.

You barely had time to process it before his lips were on yours.

It was messy. He was drunk, and you were drunk, and his hands were all over you, gripping your shirt, tugging you closer. It was all heat and warmth and breathless laughter, his lips clumsy against yours but still so good.

"God," Sang-woo muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You two are unbelievable."

You pulled back just enough to grin at him, breath still shaky. "Jealous?"

Something dark flickered in Sang-woo’s eyes. He took a step closer. Then another.

The air shifted.

Gi-hun’s breath was unsteady against your neck, and you were suddenly very aware of how small the room was. Of how big Sang-woo looked standing over you. Of how his fingers curled at his sides, like he was holding something back.

"You two," he murmured, voice dropping to something deep and dangerous, "need to be put in your place."

Your breath caught. Gi-hun shuddered.

Sang-woo smirked.

"Good," he murmured, rolling up his sleeves. "Then let me handle you both properly."

And from the way your pulse jumped, you already knew—

You were in so much trouble.

Gi-hun, still breathless beside you, let out a drunken laugh, rubbing at his flushed face. "Ohhh, he’s mad."

Mad wasn’t the right word. Focused, maybe. Intent. Like a cat watching two mice who’d made the mistake of thinking they were in control.

Your heartbeat kicked up when he reached for you, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up. His touch was careful—almost gentle—but his eyes? His eyes were anything but.

"You think this is funny?" His voice was quiet, but it sent a shiver straight down your spine.

You didn’t trust yourself to answer.

Sang-woo exhaled, slow and measured, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. Then, without warning, he kissed you.

It was nothing like Gi-hun. Gi-hun had been warm and reckless, all sloppy, drunken eagerness. But Sang-woo?

Sang-woo was calculated.

He kissed you like he already knew how you’d react—like he’d thought about it before. His lips moved against yours, slow at first, dragging out the moment just to watch you tremble under him.

And when you gasped—when your hands instinctively gripped his shirt—he smirked against your mouth and took control.

The next kiss wasn’t slow at all. It was deep, consuming, his hand threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, swallowing the sound you made when he nipped at your bottom lip.

Your knees almost gave out, and that seemed to amuse him.

"Already?" he murmured, barely pulling away. His breath was warm against your lips. "I thought you had more fight in you."

Your pride flared up, but before you could snap back, he kissed you again—harder, rougher, like he was proving a point.

And damn it, he was.

A hand pressed firmly against your back, holding you up as he deepened the kiss, tilting your head just the way he wanted. Every little movement was controlled, deliberate. He was handling you, testing your limits, seeing how much he could pull from you.

Gi-hun whistled from the bed. "Damn."

You barely registered it. You were too busy melting under Sang-woo’s touch, too busy clinging to him because your head was spinning, and you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or him.

Probably both.

Sang-woo finally pulled back, just enough to look at you. His gaze flickered over your face—your parted lips, your uneven breaths, the slight dazed look in your eyes.

And he grinned.

"Better?" he asked, voice maddeningly smug.

You swallowed hard. "Fuck you."

He laughed. "Oh, we’ll get to that."

Your pulse was still racing when Sang-woo’s grip tightened, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. His fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, steadying you, like he knew your knees were about to give out.

Bastard was smug about it, too.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before he was tilting your chin up again, forcing you to look at him. His eyes flickered over your face—your swollen lips, your hazy expression—and he smirked like he had already won.

"That’s more like it," he murmured.

You didn’t get the chance to answer.

His mouth was on yours again—hotter, firmer, all slow-burning control. He wasn’t rushing anything, wasn’t desperate like Gi-hun had been. No, Sang-woo was patient, dragging it out like he was enjoying every second of watching you fall apart under his hands.

And God, were you falling apart.

Your breath hitched when he pulled you even closer, chest to chest, his grip on your waist so strong it sent heat curling down your spine. His hands weren’t just holding you; they were grounding you, controlling every little shift, every tiny movement.

When you tried to push back—tried to meet him halfway—he just laughed. A low, quiet chuckle against your lips, like he found it cute that you thought you had any say in this.

"You don’t get to decide," he murmured.

That—combined with the way he pressed in just that much closer—sent a full-body shiver through you.

Gi-hun let out an exaggerated groan from the bed. "God, get a room—wait. This is a room. I hate both of you."

Sang-woo ignored him entirely.

His lips trailed down, brushing against your jaw, slow, teasing, until his mouth hovered just below your ear. His breath was warm against your skin, making it even harder to think.

"You can stop me if you want," he murmured, voice so damn calm. So damn confident. "Do you want me to stop?"

You swallowed hard. Shook your head.

Sang-woo smirked.

"Good."

His grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into your waist like he was staking his claim, like he was letting you know exactly who was in control here.

Gi-hun groaned again, flopping dramatically onto the bed. "You guys," he complained, voice slurred from the alcohol, "I’m right here."

Sang-woo didn’t even acknowledge him.

He was still focused on you, fingers pressing firm against your waist, keeping you in place like he dared you to move. His lips were hovering over yours again, not quite touching, just teasing—waiting, watching, dragging out the moment until you were barely breathing.

It was infuriating.

And, apparently, Gi-hun agreed.

"Okay, okay, this is actually painful to watch," he whined. Then, before you could react, he grabbed the front of your shirt and yanked you into him.

Your mind barely had time to catch up before Gi-hun’s mouth was on yours again.

Unlike Sang-woo, Gi-hun wasn’t patient.

He kissed you sloppy, messy, like he had been waiting for an excuse. His fingers dug into your collar, pulling you so close that you felt the lazy grin against your lips—because of course he was smiling, like he just got away with something.

And maybe he did.

Sang-woo exhaled sharply, a quiet tch of amusement. "You really have no self-control, do you?"

Gi-hun hummed against your mouth. "Nope."

Then, as if to prove his point, his hand slid up to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, tilting your head to get exactly what he wanted. His lips moved against yours with all the urgency Sang-woo refused to have—hot, desperate, leaving you just as breathless as before.

And, just when your knees almost gave out—

Sang-woo pulled you back.

The sudden shift made you gasp, but Sang-woo only smirked, steadying you like you were something fragile.

"Now, now," he murmured, thumb brushing over your lips. "Let’s not forget who’s in charge here."

You swallowed hard.

Gi-hun scoffed, falling back against the pillows. "Ugh, you always have to be in control."

Sang-woo smirked, but he didn’t argue. He knew he was right.

His fingers didn’t just hold you in place—they commanded you, gripping your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. His gaze flickered over your lips, your breathless expression, and you swore you saw something dangerous flash behind them.

"You're not thinking of getting ahead of yourself, are you?" His voice was maddeningly calm, but his grip said otherwise—like he dared you to push back.

You didn’t.

Not when he leaned in, lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was barely there, teasing, withholding, just to see you squirm.

You almost whined—almost. But the moment the sound threatened to escape, he kissed you properly, swallowing it before you even had the chance.

It was too much and not enough, all at once.

The way he handled you—slow, precise, like he knew exactly what he was doing—had your head spinning, and when his hand slid down, resting just above your waist, heat curled deep in your stomach.

And then there was Gi-hun.

Still sprawled across the bed, watching the two of you with the laziest grin, looking far too entertained. "Damn," he murmured, stretching his arms behind his head. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

Sang-woo ignored him.

You, however, glared. "You have no right to talk."

Gi-hun chuckled, reaching out to lazily tug at your wrist, pulling you toward him. "Relax, sweetheart. No need to be so tense."

Sweetheart.

Your stomach flipped, and Sang-woo clicked his tongue.

"Don’t get greedy," he warned. But even as he said it, he didn’t stop you when you let Gi-hun pull you back into another messy, open-mouthed kiss.

Gi-hun kissed recklessly, all teeth and warmth, a stark contrast to Sang-woo’s maddening control. And you might’ve gotten lost in it—

If not for the sharp tug at your waist, pulling you right back into Sang-woo’s hold.

Gi-hun pouted. "Hey—"

"You had your turn," Sang-woo said, voice edged with patience, but the grip on your waist was anything but.

Gi-hun snorted. "Yeah? And who made you the boss?"

Sang-woo turned his head, fixing him with a flat stare. "Me."

Gi-hun scoffed, sitting up on his elbows. "Oh, right, I forgot—Sang-woo always has to be in control. You never let loose, do you?"

"Because someone has to," Sang-woo deadpanned.

You barely had the strength to roll your eyes. "Are you two seriously arguing right now?"

They ignored you.

"Come on, man, it’s not that deep," Gi-hun groaned, stretching his arms out. "You act like it’d kill you to let someone else take the lead for once."

"Someone else?" Sang-woo echoed, eyebrows raised like he’d just been insulted. "You?"

Gi-hun shot him a lazy grin. "Yeah, me."

Sang-woo exhaled sharply through his nose, like he was actually considering throwing hands. "You can barely walk in a straight line right now."

"And yet, I still managed to make him weak in the knees first," Gi-hun shot back, nodding in your direction.

Your stomach flipped.

Sang-woo went still.

Then he turned, ever so slowly, to look at you.

You gulped. "Uh—"

"Is that true?" His voice was too calm, his expression too unreadable.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Then sighed, accepting the fact that no matter what you said, you were done for.

Gi-hun grinned like he already won. "See? That’s why I should go first."

"Like hell you will." Sang-woo was already pulling you back against him, fingers pressing into your waist in a way that sent heat curling up your spine. "You had your turn. It’s my turn now."

"Ugh, you’re so possessive," Gi-hun groaned. "Sharing is a thing, you know."

"And yet, you always want to take more than your fair share," Sang-woo countered.

"It’s called living a little—you should try it sometime."

"You would say that."

"Okay, okay, Jesus Christ," you cut in, exasperated. "If you’re gonna fight over me, can you at least do it faster?"

Sang-woo narrowed his eyes. Gi-hun raised a brow.

Then, in unison—

"Fine."

Before you could even process what was happening, you were tugged forward—one second into Sang-woo’s grip, the next into Gi-hun’s arms—until you were completely surrounded.

And that’s when it hit you.

They weren’t arguing over who got you.

They were arguing over who got you first.

Oh.

Oh, you were screwed.

Gi-hun hummed, tilting his head. "Guess there’s only one way to settle this."

Sang-woo exhaled, like he was deeply inconvenienced. "At the same time, then."

You blinked.

Then sighed.

"I accept my demise."

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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odin

BREATHLESS - CHEONGSAN

pairing: lee cheong-san x power bottom reader

synopsis: You just can't get enough of him <33

content warnings: 18+, straddling, dry humping + grinding, making out, implied sex at the end.

word count: 0.7k

Cheongsan was already trembling beneath you, but you weren’t satisfied yet.

His grip on your waist was so tight that his knuckles had gone bone-white, fingers pressing in like he was terrified you’d slip away. His breathing was a mess—ragged, uneven, little gasps spilling past his lips every time you shifted. His whole body was betraying him, reacting to every tiny movement you made, and the best part? He was still trying to fight it.

"You're so tense," you murmured, dragging your fingers up his chest, feeling the way his muscles twitched under your touch. His breath hitched—so sharp, so audible, and your smirk deepened.

"What's wrong baby?" you asked, tilting your head. "You look a little… overwhelmed."

He was overwhelmed. You could see it all over his face—the way his brows were drawn together, his mouth parted just slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how to make the words come out.

"I—" His voice cracked so hard on the first syllable that he physically winced. His grip on your waist faltered for half a second, but when you rolled your hips against him—slow, teasing—he choked on a breath and yanked you closer.

You laughed. "Thought you didn’t want me?"

He made a sound—high, desperate, embarrassing. "Shut up."

You clicked your tongue, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his ear. "Not very convincing," you whispered. "You’re holding onto me like I’m about to disappear."

His fingers twitched, nails nearly biting into your skin.

"You like this," you continued, lips ghosting down to his jaw. "You like when I’m in control, don’t you?"

Cheongsan squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head—but the second you rocked against him again, he gasped so sharply that his whole body jolted.

"That's not a no," you teased.

His chest rose and fell in quick, uneven motions, his breath coming out in these tiny, wrecked little gasps. He was trying so hard to keep it together, to keep some shred of dignity intact, but you weren’t going to let him.

Not when he looked so perfect like this.

"Say it," you murmured, dragging your lips along his jaw. "Tell me how much you like it."

He turned his head away, jaw clenched, but you weren’t having that. You grabbed his chin, tilting his face back toward you.

"Say it," you repeated.

His lashes fluttered, lips parting, but no words came out. Just a shaky, hitched breath.

You smirked. "Too embarrassed?"

When he still didn’t respond, you leaned in—brushing your lips over his, teasing but never quite giving him what he wanted.

He gasped again, grip tightening on your waist, like he was trying to pull you in, but you pulled back before he could.

His eyes flew open, wide and dazed, frustration flickering behind them. His fingers dug into you hard, and he opened his mouth, about to say something—

—but you cut him off with a kiss.

Or—more like, you devoured him.

Cheongsan gasped into your mouth, and you swallowed the sound greedily, deepening the kiss before he could even process what was happening. His lips parted so easily beneath yours, body shuddering under your hands, and when you rolled your hips again—grinding down just right—he let out a noise so pathetic that it sent a thrill straight down your spine.

"Mm, see?" you hummed against his lips. "You’re such a mess f’me."

He let out a soft, broken whimper, and god, it was so cute how easily he fell apart. His hands had started trembling, grip desperate, like he physically needed to hold onto you or he’d completely lose himself.

You nipped at his bottom lip, tugging it between your teeth before licking into his mouth again, taking everything, making sure he felt just how much control you had over him.

By the time you pulled away, he looked wrecked.

His lips were kiss-swollen, glossy with spit, his pupils blown so wide that his eyes looked nearly black. His whole body was still trembling, his chest rising and falling in these quick, uneven breaths.

You grinned, tracing a finger over his cheek. "Still think I’m mean?"

Cheongsan swallowed hard, blinking up at you, dazed. He opened his mouth—then closed it. Then opened it again, struggling for words.

You tilted your head. "Aww. Did I break you?"

He shuddered, gripping you even harder, like he didn’t trust himself to let go.

You chuckled, dragging a thumb over his bottom lip. "Good," you whispered, voice dark, smug. "Because next time, I want you begging."

The way he whined sent a shiver straight down your spine.

And you couldn’t wait to ruin him all over again.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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DETENTION - GWINAM

pairing: yoon gwi nam x top male reader

synopsis: The real infection here is horniness pt.4 ( i am running out of caption ideas pls help me)

content warnings: 18+, semi-public sex (?), no apocalypse AU, dry humping, anal, reader is the school president

word count: 1.3k

The school hallways were mostly empty, save for the occasional echo of a rushed student or the muffled chatter from classrooms. But near the lockers, that peace was utterly destroyed by none other than Yoon Gwi-nam and his pack of glorified background characters—Jae-ho and Min-jae.

They had some poor kid cornered, Gwi-nam’s voice full of that cocky, drawling amusement as he pushed his victim up against the metal, making some smartass remark that had his minions laughing on cue.

You weren’t having it.

“Hey,” your voice cut through the noise, sharp and demanding, making all three freeze like deer caught in headlights.

Gwi-nam turned, eyes narrowing when he saw you. His posture didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—annoyance, maybe? Resentment? Or just the instinctive urge to challenge anyone who thought they could talk down to him?

“What?” he drawled, turning slightly to face you, shoulders loose, cocky smirk already forming. “School president’s got somethin’ to say? Gonna give me a lecture?”

You exhaled slowly, stepping forward until you were right in front of him. He didn’t back up. Neither did you.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, voice steady. “What, picking on people makes you feel big?”

Gwi-nam’s expression twitched, but he didn’t lose that arrogant smirk. “Yeah, actually,” he said, tilting his head. “What, you wanna try it? Bet it’d look real funny seeing you act all tough.”

Jae-ho and Min-jae chuckled behind him, but you ignored them completely, eyes locked onto Gwi-nam’s.

You sighed, then—fast as a whip—grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the lockers. The metal rattled loudly, echoing down the hallway. Jae-ho and Min-jae immediately shut up, wide-eyed, but didn’t make a move to help their so-called leader.

Gwi-nam let out a sharp grunt, hands instinctively coming up to shove you away, but you were stronger than he expected. Your grip stayed firm, forearm pressing against his chest. His breath hitched for half a second—not in fear, but surprise. He hadn’t thought you had it in you.

You leaned in, dropping your voice. "You’re all talk, aren’t you?" Your breath was warm against his ear. "But I know what kind of guy you really are."

Gwi-nam tensed. "The hell’s that supposed to mean?" he hissed, voice just barely steady.

"You act tough, but the second someone stands up to you, you fold." You smirked, pressing him harder against the lockers. "Like right now."

His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, but he didn’t have a comeback. His hands curled into fists, gripping the fabric of your blazer, but he didn’t push you off.

“Apologize,” you said.

Gwi-nam scoffed. “The fuck?”

You yanked his head back by his hair. His breath hitched audibly this time, neck arching slightly. His hands twitched where they gripped your blazer.

"Say. You’re. Sorry," you repeated, slow and firm.

For the first time, Gwi-nam hesitated. His pride and instincts were at war. He hated this—hated being told what to do, hated how you weren’t scared of him. And yet, his body wasn’t moving away.

Jae-ho and Min-jae looked so uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly like they didn’t know whether to intervene or run.

“Alright, fine,” Gwi-nam bit out, voice tight. His teeth were clenched like the words physically pained him. “I’m fucking sorry. Happy now, boss?"

You let out a soft hum, tilting your head as you let go of his hair. "See? That wasn’t so hard."

His glare was deadly, but he didn’t fight it.

You turned to the kid he’d been bullying. “Go,” you said. “You’re good.”

The kid didn’t need to be told twice. He practically bolted, sparing one last glance at Gwi-nam, then disappearing around the corner.

Min-jae awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll—uh—catch up with you later, man.”

Jae-ho gave Gwi-nam a look before mumbling something under his breath and following Min-jae down the hall, leaving the two of you alone.

The silence was heavy.

Gwi-nam rolled his jaw, flexing his hands before glaring at you. “Hope you feel real fucking proud of yourself,” he muttered.

You gave him a once-over, then grabbed his wrist.

“Hey—?!” He barely had time to react before you dragged him down the hall, pushing open the door to an empty classroom and shoving him inside.

The second the door clicked shut, he whirled on you. “What the hell is your prob—”

You had him against the wall before he could finish.

This time, the silence was different.

Gwi-nam’s breath was uneven, his head tilted back slightly against the wall as you crowded into his space. The tension was thick—but not the kind of tension that led to a fight. Not anymore.

You could see it in the way his lips parted slightly, the way his pupils had dilated just a little. He liked this—he just didn’t want to admit it.

"You like being put in your place, don’t you?" you murmured, watching the way his throat bobbed.

His jaw clenched. "Fuck off."

But he wasn’t pushing you away.

You tilted your head. “Then why aren’t you stopping me?”

He sucked in a breath, but still—no answer.

Your smirk widened. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

And then you kissed him.

It was rough. You weren’t giving him a choice, and he wasn’t taking one. His mouth opened under yours before he could think better of it, teeth clashing, breath uneven.

It was sloppy—desperate, hot, full of the kind of tension that had been bubbling beneath the surface for months. His hands finally moved, gripping at your shirt, tugging you closer.

He growled against your mouth when you bit down on his lower lip, yanking at his hair again. His hips twitched forward before he could stop himself.

“Shit,” he mumbled, half against your lips, half under his breath.

You grinned. "You like this."

He didn’t answer.

But the way his breath came faster, the way his hips kept shifting ever so slightly against yours—yeah. You knew.

You ran a hand down his chest, slipping under the hem of his shirt just slightly. His skin was hot, muscles tensing under your touch.

His eyes fluttered shut for half a second—just long enough for you to grind against him, making him gasp.

"Fuck," he hissed, grip tightening on your clothes.

You chuckled against his lips, slow and deliberate as you rolled your hips against his again. He was panting now, forehead resting against yours, trying to keep himself together.

"Still wanna act all tough?" you murmured, dragging your lips down his jaw, then his neck.

His response was a low, strangled noise—half a growl, half a groan—as his fingers dug into your back.

—

Gwi-nam was a wreck.

His breath hitched, his fingers grasping at your blazer like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His usual arrogance, his defiance—it was gone. All that remained was the mess you’d turned him into, his body betraying him in ways he’d never let anyone else see.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, your voice slow, teasing. "You think you’re tough now, huh?"

A choked noise left his throat—something between a whimper and a groan.

You rolled your hips again, drawing another desperate noise from him, and smirked. "I thought you wanted it rough, love. Can’t you take it?"

Gwi-nam’s grip tightened—not in control, but in surrender. His forehead thumped against your shoulder, his breathing ragged, his body reacting to the way your cock slipped in and out of his hole, hitting his sweet spot with almost every thrust.

"Shit, shit, shit—" His voice was nothing but a broken murmur now, his pride shattered under your hands.

You chuckled, enjoying this—enjoying him like this. "That’s what I thought."

And just when things were reaching their peak—when he was fully lost in you, when the only sounds in the room were his breathy moans and the way you were wrecking him—

click.

The door unlocked.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

The handle twitched like someone was testing it—but then, after a second, they hesitated.

You swore you heard a muttered, "Nope. Not dealing with that."

And then, silence.

You exhaled a laugh, barely even phased. "Guess they know better than to interrupt."

Gwi-nam groaned, burying his burning face into your shoulder. "Shut up."

You just smirked. "Make me."

This was going to be a long fucking day.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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CLASS PRESIDENT PRIVILEGES - JOONYEONG

pairing: oh joon yeong x top male reader

synopsis: The real infection here is horniness pt.3

content warnings: 18+, semi-public sex (?), zombies, dry humping, no actual smut (they get interrupted lol), reader smokes, reader is the class president.

word count: 1.5k

The rooftop was cold. Not just a little chilly, not just “bundle up and you’ll be fine” kind of cold—the kind of cold that made you question all your life choices up to this point.

And the worst part? The idiots you called classmates couldn’t even get a simple fire going.

"I’m telling you, it worked in the movie," Cheongsan insisted, aggressively striking two rocks together.

"It’s been twenty minutes," Wujin deadpanned. "All you’ve done is make a weird clicking sound and piss me off."

"You think you can do better?"

"Yes, actually!"

"You two can fight after we figure out how not to freeze to death!" Onjo snapped.

Daesu, shivering violently, let out a dramatic groan. "I’m gonna die. I can feel my organs shutting down. Someone tell my parents I loved them."

"You’re not gonna die, Daesu."

"How do you know, huh?" He pointed a trembling finger at you. "You’re not the one slowly becoming a human popsicle!"

You sighed, feeling your patience wear thinner by the second. Your classmates were useless. At this rate, you’d be thawing out in the stomach of some undead freak before anyone even thought about fire.

Wordlessly, you reached into your pocket, pulled out a lighter, and flicked it open with one hand. The small flame flickered in the darkness.

The group went dead silent.

Then—

"You—" Joonyeong squinted at you like you’d just pulled out a live grenade. "You smoke?"

You raised a brow. "And you have a big mouth. What’s your point?"

The silence grew thicker. Wujin looked personally offended, Onjo blinked at you in stunned confusion, and Cheongsan opened and closed his mouth like he was trying to solve an advanced math problem.

"Since when do you smoke?" Onjo finally asked, brows furrowed.

"Since before the apocalypse. Why?"

"BEFORE?" Daesu gawked. "Since before?"

"Why is that the shocking part?"

"You were supposed to be the responsible one!" Wujin yelled.

You stared at him, unimpressed. "Well, you were supposed to light the fire, and yet—" You gestured dramatically to the still-unlit pile of sticks.

Cheongsan muttered, "Damn, he’s got a point."

Shaking your head, you flicked the lighter closed and tossed it to Wujin. "Do better."

Then, with no further explanation, you turned on your heel and walked away.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" Wujin called after you.

You didn’t answer. It was getting too loud, and if you spent one more second listening to their collective incompetence, you might actually start throwing people off the roof.

It was time for a break.

As the night dragged on, exhaustion weighed down on the group, conversation dwindling as the reality of their situation set in. You, as always, preferred your solitude, so you wandered to the farthest corner of the rooftop, away from the others. The cool breeze nipped at your skin as you lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply.

Footsteps approached.

You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

"You followed me," you said, voice flat.

Joonyeong stuffed his hands into his pockets, eyes flickering to the cigarette in your hand. "Didn’t peg you for a delinquent."

"Didn’t peg you for a stalker."

He huffed a small laugh, but his gaze was elsewhere—on the city, the fires burning in the distance, the moans of the dead below.

"I thought I hated you," he muttered.

You raised a brow. "Good to know."

"I was jealous," he continued. "You’re everything I wanted to be. Smart. Respected. Strong. You always acted like nothing could touch you." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I thought it was just resentment. That I just wanted to be better than you."

You glanced at him. "And?"

His jaw tightened. Then, before you could react, he turned to you fully, hands gripping the front of your jacket, and—

Pressed his lips against yours.

You froze.

Of all the things you were expecting tonight, this was not one of them.

Your cigarette dropped, forgotten, as his lips moved against yours—clumsy, hesitant, but desperate. Your hands hovered at your sides for a moment, your brain catching up with reality.

Then something clicked.

Your grip tightened on his jacket, yanking him closer as you took full control of the kiss, tilting your head, deepening it. Joonyeong made a noise against your lips, surprised, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he melted into it.

Without thinking, you lifted him.

"What the—!" Joonyeong barely got the words out before his legs instinctively wrapped around your waist. His breath hitched as you pressed him against the ledge, pinning him between your body and the cold concrete.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

You smirked against his lips. "Didn’t expect that, huh?"

"Not even a little bit," he admitted, voice already breathy.

Then you kissed him again—deeper, rougher, completely taking over.

His lips parted under yours, and you didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it, your tongue sliding against his in a way that made his fingers tighten in your hair. The little stuttered breath he let out sent a thrill down your spine, and you liked the way he melted into you, the way his body tensed and relaxed all at once.

His hands, uncertain at first, slowly grew bolder, fingers fisting in the fabric of your jacket before slipping under the hem, pressing against your back. The cold contrast of his fingertips against your skin made you shiver, but you didn’t let him take control for even a second.

Instead, you rolled your hips forward—just slightly, but enough that Joonyeong made a strangled noise against your lips, his legs tightening around you.

"Fuck—" His head fell back against the ledge, his breath coming out in short, uneven bursts.

You didn’t let up.

You kissed along his jaw, trailing down to the side of his neck, feeling the way he tensed under the attention. Your teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and when you bit down—not too hard, but just enough to make him feel it—Joonyeong gasped, his back arching slightly.

"God," he muttered. "You’re—"

"What?" you murmured against his throat, already knowing the answer.

"Nothing," he said quickly, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

You smirked, sucking a mark just below his jaw, feeling the way his breath stuttered against your shoulder. His grip on you tightened, and you knew—knew—he was barely holding himself together.

"You're so loud," you teased.

"Shut up," he shot back, voice shaking slightly.

You just grinned, licking over the mark you’d left. "Make me."

Joonyeong's breath hitched as you pressed him harder against the ledge, your hands gripping under his thighs to keep him exactly where you wanted him. His legs were locked around your waist, and you could feel how tense he was—every muscle in his body coiled tight like he was trying so hard not to lose himself completely.

"You’re shaking," you murmured, dragging your lips along his jaw, feeling the way his breath shuddered against your cheek.

"Shut up," he bit out, but his voice wasn’t nearly as sharp as he wanted it to be.

You rolled your hips forward—slow, deliberate, just enough friction to make Joonyeong jerk in your hold, a strangled sound escaping his throat before he could stop it. His fingers dug into your shoulders, and you felt his legs instinctively tighten around you like he was trying to pull you closer, even though there was no space left between you.

"Fuck," he breathed out, barely audible. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and you felt the warmth of his panting breaths against your neck. "Why are you—"

"Why am I what?" you teased, tilting your head slightly to nip at his earlobe.

"So—" His words cut off as you ground against him again, harder this time, and he whined.

You smirked. "That’s what I thought."

His fingers clenched in the fabric of your jacket, his body practically trembling from the effort of keeping himself together. But you didn’t want him to keep it together. You wanted him unravelling in your arms, forgetting about everything else—about the apocalypse, about survival, about whatever the hell he thought he felt about you before this night—until all he knew was you.

You dragged your lips down his neck, sucking just enough to make him squirm. He let out a shaky exhale, tilting his head back ever so slightly, like he needed more, like he was completely at your mercy.

"You like this," you murmured against his skin, voice low and knowing.

"I hate you," Joonyeong gasped, but the way he clung to you said otherwise.

You just chuckled, rolling your hips one more time—slow, and deep, hitting all the right spots. "Yeah?" you whispered against his throat. "Then why are you holding on so tight?"

Somewhere behind you, the grill door creaked open.

"What’s taking him so—OH MY GOD!"

A loud thud followed.

"DAESU’S DOWN! MAN DOWN!"

You turned just in time to see Wujin standing there, looking horrified, while Daesu lay collapsed on the floor, his soul probably leaving his body.

Joonyeong let out a strangled noise, trying to scramble out of your grip, but you only smirked, tightening your hold.

"Did you guys need something?" you asked, completely unbothered.

"I NEED THERAPY!" Wujin screeched.

Joonyeong buried his face into your shoulder with a groan. "Kill me. Just kill me now."

You chuckled. "Not a chance."

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

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HEAT OF THE MOMENT - CHEONGSAN

pairing: lee cheong-san x ftm reader

synopsis: The real infection here is horniness pt.2

content warnings: 18+, public sex, zombies, very little angst at the start, cheong-san eats reader out.

word count: 1.4k

The rooftop was colder than you expected. Maybe it was the breeze, maybe it was the fear, or maybe it was just the fact that you were watching Lee Cheong-san’s heart get ripped out of his chest without a single zombie in sight.

“I’m sorry, Cheong-san,” On-jo said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t need to hear more. The way his shoulders tensed, the barely-there quiver in his breath—it was obvious.

You weren’t jealous. You had never been jealous. You were just angry. Angry because Cheong-san had spent so much time putting On-jo first, saving her, loving her, and now here he was, getting nothing back.

On-jo turned away like that was the end of it.

Cheong-san didn’t move.

"Cheong-san," you called, just loud enough for him to hear. His head lifted slightly, his expression guarded.

He didn’t need to say anything. You just nodded toward the far side of the rooftop, away from prying eyes. He hesitated before following you.

"You good?" you asked once the two of you were alone.

Cheong-san scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Do I look good?"

You looked him over. He looked wrecked—not just from the apocalypse, but from that rejection. His eyes were unfocused, his jaw clenched tight like he was fighting himself just to keep standing.

"No," you admitted. "You look like shit."

"Great. Thanks."

You shrugged. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. But also, On-jo doesn't know what the hell she's missing."

Cheong-san exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I don’t need a pep talk, okay? Just—" He sighed. "I need to get out of my own head."

You knew what he meant.

"You can take it out on me," you murmured.

His gaze snapped to yours.

You took a step closer, testing the waters. "You're all wound up, and it's not like we have much time left anyway." You tilted your head, watching the way his lips parted slightly at your words. "Might as well do something that feels good."

A pause.

Then, something in Cheong-san snapped.

His mouth crashed against yours, all heat and frustration. It was messy, uncoordinated, desperate—like he needed to drown out everything else with you. His hands grabbed at your hoodie, pulling you in until you could feel how fast his heart was beating.

You let him take what he needed, fingers threading through his hair, tugging slightly just to hear him gasp against your lips. He pushed you back until your spine hit the cold rooftop railing, his hands bracing against it on either side of you.

"Tell me to stop," he muttered, his breath hot against your lips.

You grinned, tilting your chin up. "Why would I do that?"

A low curse left his mouth before he kissed you again, deeper this time. It was filthy—the way his tongue slid against yours, the way his hands curled into the fabric of your clothes like he needed to ground himself with you.

Cheong-san’s mouth was hot against your skin, his lips trailing downward with a purpose you didn’t quite understand yet. Your hands stayed tangled in his hair, gripping slightly as he pressed kisses lower, across your stomach, making your breath hitch.

Then he knelt, hands sliding to your thighs, parting them with slow, deliberate pressure. You felt the shift in the air, the way his breath ghosted over you, how focused he was.

Your fingers twitched in his hair. "Cheong-san, what are you—?"

A sharp gasp cut off your words as his mouth met your folds.

It was warm. Soft. His tongue flicked out, slow and testing, like he was figuring out exactly what made you react. And, oh, you reacted. Your hips jerked slightly, unprepared for the sensation, a sharp inhale escaping your lips.

Cheong-san huffed a laugh against you, his grip tightening to hold you still. "Relax," he murmured, voice thick, amused. "Trust me."

Trust? That was hard when your heart was slamming against your ribs, your body alight with something you’d never felt before. You were trying to process—trying to understand—but then he did it again, this time with more pressure, and suddenly, nothing else mattered.

A whimper slipped out before you could stop it.

Cheong-san groaned, low and satisfied, like that was exactly what he wanted to hear. He adjusted his grip, fingers digging into your thighs as he really started working—his tongue tracing slow, teasing patterns against your clit, his lips pressing just right. The wet heat of his mouth sent a shock through every inch of you, and you barely managed to stifle the desperate sound bubbling up.

Your head fell back, fingers clenching in his hair, legs threatening to close around his head from the sheer intensity of it. But Cheong-san held you firm, his movements becoming more precise, more deliberate. Like he was discovering a whole new way to ruin you.

"You’re—" Your voice broke off into a breathy gasp as he sucked lightly, sending sparks straight up your spine. "Cheong-san, what—fuck—"

Another low groan from him, this time more needy, like he was getting just as much out of this as you were. The vibrations made your whole body jolt.

Your thighs trembled against his hold, heat coiling tighter and tighter inside you, something building fast. Your breath came in short, shaky gasps, body arching into him despite yourself.

Cheong-san felt it, heard it, and leaned into it—his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, mouth dragging across every sensitive inch of you until—

Everything snapped.

Your body tensed, a sharp cry slipping past your lips before you could stop it. The heat, the pressure, and the overwhelming pleasure all crashed over you at once, leaving your mind blank, and your body shaking.

Cheong-san didn’t stop. He eased you through it, his hands steady on your thighs, his tongue still working on your cunt—gentler now, soothing, until the aftershocks had passed and you were nothing but a wrecked mess beneath him.

Only then did he pull back, his lips swollen, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide as he stared up at you with something bordering on starved. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing heavily.

"You taste so good," he murmured, his voice hoarse, wrecked.

Your chest was still heaving, your limbs feeling boneless as you tried to process what the fuck just happened. You met his gaze, dazed, completely spent.

"...Jesus Christ, Cheong-san."

A slow, cocky grin spread across his face, and before you could fully catch your breath, he was already moving back up, pressing his lips to yours, pulling you back into him like he was far from finished.

You barely registered the sound of something scraping against the building’s edge.

Then, a guttural voice cut through the haze.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

You and Cheong-san jolted apart just in time to see Yoon Gwi-nam’s face—half-bloodied, half-deranged—peeking over the ledge as he scaled the school building.

He stared at you both like he had just walked in on his own parents.

A strangled, horrified noise left his mouth, and in his sheer disgust, he lost his grip.

The last thing you saw was his expression twisting in absolute horror before he plummeted back down.

Silence.

"...Did you just kill him by eating me out?"

He blinked, looking back at you. His lips were swollen, his hair was still a mess from your fingers, and he was clearly still too dazed to function properly. "I—" He exhaled. "I think I did."

That was it. You lost it.

You doubled over, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Holy shit. Holy shit."

Cheong-san ran a hand down his face, half in disbelief, half in secondhand embarrassment. "Goddammit," he muttered. "Gwi-nam of all people had to see that? If he survives this fall, he's gonna be even more insufferable."

You wiped a tear from your eye, finally managing to catch your breath. "If he survives, I feel like he’s gonna need therapy more than revenge."

Cheong-san groaned, leaning back against the railing. "I can't believe my first time got witnessed by that greasy bastard."

You grinned, reaching up to fix his ruffled hair. "Hey, at least it was memorable."

"Too memorable," he muttered.

Before you could respond, a voice rang out from behind you.

"Cheong-san?"

You both froze.

Slowly—painfully slowly—you turned your head.

Standing in the doorway, eyes wide and horrified, were Cheong-san’s best friend, Lee Su-hyeok, and the absolute last person you wanted to be here right now—Nam On-jo.

Your pants were still crumpled around the floor, your lower half free from any cover.

Oh, shit.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

Text

BAD TIMING - GYEONGSU

pairing: han gyeong-su x top male reader

synopsis: The real infection here is horniness

content warnings: 18+, semi-public sex, anal, zombies, breeding, creampie, nayeon being a bitch, slight overstimulations, spit as lube.

word count: 1.1k

Nayeon was running her mouth again, voice shrill enough to probably attract zombies instead of keeping them away.

"He’s bitten! I saw it! We have to throw him out before he turns!" she screeched, pointing an accusatory finger at Gyeongsu, who was looking one second away from committing a crime.

"For the last time, I am not bitten, you absolute lunatic!" Gyeongsu snapped. "It was a scratch. A SCRATCH.”

You, ever the voice of reason (and also, let’s be honest, just wanting an excuse to be alone with him), stepped forward. "Okay, okay, let’s settle this like civilized people," you said, patting Gyeongsu on the shoulder. "I’ll go with him to the recording room and keep watch. If he turns, I’ll scream."

"And we definitely trust your judgment." Nayeon scoffed.

"Like yours is any better," Cheongsan muttered under his breath.

But before anyone could object, you were already dragging Gyeongsu toward the soundproof recording room, slamming the door shut behind you.

“Man, she is so annoying,” you huffed, leaning against the wall.

Gyeongsu rolled his eyes, flopping onto one of the chairs. "Tell me about it. I’d rather get eaten by a zombie than listen to her for another second."

You made a thoughtful noise. "Well, since you’re not gonna turn, we have some time to kill."

Gyeongsu glanced at you, brow raised. "Yeah? And what do you suggest we do?"

A slow smirk crept onto your face. "Oh, I have some ideas."

The next five minutes were a blur of teeth, hands, and terrible decision-making.

It started with you yanking him forward by the collar, kissing him like the world was literally ending (which, to be fair, it was). It was all heat and desperation, his hands gripping the edge of the table as you practically devoured him.

"Didn’t think you’d—mmf—make a move now," Gyeongsu mumbled against your lips, breath hitching as you bit down on his lower lip.

"What, you wanted me to wait until after we’re zombie chow?" You pulled back just slightly, running your thumb over the wetness on his lips. "Nah. If I’m gonna die, I’m going out having fun."

He huffed a laugh, gripping your shirt and yanking you right back in. "Good. Now shut up."

It got sloppy real fast. Hands pulling, teeth clashing, breath hot and uneven. Gyeongsu let out a muffled noise when you practically shoved him against the table, his head tilting back slightly, giving you way too much access to his neck.

And God, the way he was looking at you—eyes half-lidded, lips swollen, breath uneven—yeah, you were definitely gonna die in this apocalypse

Your hands trailed to his pants, yanking them down. He yelped in surprise, to which you covered his mouth with your free hand.

“We’ve got to be quiet, you don’t the others to hear, hm?”

He shook his head, and you proceeded to pull his boxers down too, his dick springing out.

“He’s more excited than I am, isn’t he?” You gestured to his erection, smirking. Gyeong-su turned away, flushed.

“Get on with it, will you? We haven’t got all day.”

You simply grinned and flipped him around, so that his back was facing you. You grabbed the firm flesh of his ass, fondling with it, wondering what to do. It struck you then that you didn’t have lube available.

His spit would have to do.

You yanked on his hair (not too harshly), to crane his neck around to face you. Wordlessly, you poked two fingers at his mouth, pushing past his plump lips to the wet cavern of his tongue.

He swirled your digits around his tongue for a solid minute, before you pulled out and brought your fingers to his ass.

As you pushed one finger in, Gyeong-su had to cover his mouth– his eyes widened at the penetration. You really did want him to be loud, but neither of you could risk getting caught. Not now, and definitely not like this.

You held him steady at the table with your other hand, as you pushed a nother finger in, followed by one more. Three fingers were steadily pumping in and out of him, and god, he was seeing stars.

Deeming him prepped enough, you removed your fingers and pushed your own pants down, cock springing out.

You slowly pushed the tip in, hips already stuttering at the warmth of his hole. You leaned over him and held his hand, cooing in his ear as you eased your way into his heat.

When you bottomed out, you straightened your back and took your hands to his waist, holding him in a strong grip.

“I’m gonna move now, ‘kay?” He just whimpered, which you took as a green flag, and slowly started to rock in and out of him.

He was so tight, it was almost like his hole never wanted your cock to leave. If anything, that only turned you on even more.

Soon, your pace increased, the grip on Gyeong-su’s waist only getting more firm. The poor guy was shaking, hands trying to steady himself on the table but absolutely failing. At one particular thrust, he let a loud moan, quickly muffling it with his mouth.

So that was the spot.

You rammed into his hole– practically abusing his prostrate with every thrust. His eyes clenched together, his brain was feeling so, so empty.

Soon, you felt yourself on the verge of a release, your thrusts started to stutter.

“Do you want it in or out?” You questioned, leaning down on him so that he could hear you better.

“In– please, oh fuck–f”

That was all you needed to hear,

With a low groan, you spilled into him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck– painting his insides a pearly white. He came soon after, dick spurting cum onto the desk, staining it.

Before you could pull out—there was a sudden bang from the other side of the glass.

Both of you froze.

Slowly, you turned your heads toward the window.

On the other side, standing in absolute, soul-crushing horror, were Cheongsan and Joon-young.

Cheongsan’s mouth hung open like he was trying to say something, but nothing was coming out. Joon-young? He looked like he was re-evaluating every life decision he had ever made.

You and Gyeongsu stared at them.

They stared back.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Then—

"I told you!" Nayeon’s voice rang out, triumphant. "They’re hiding something!"

Cheongsan slammed the door shut before she could step inside.

"N-Nope! Nothing to see here! We’re leaving!"

You barely had time to process what had just happened before Gyeongsu lost it, his forehead dropping against your shoulder as he shook with laughter.

"Well," you sighed, ruffling a hand through your hair, "I guess we’re never living this down."

Gyeongsu looked up at you, grinning. "Worth it."

And, yeah. You had to agree.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

Text

BOUND TO LOSE

pairing: the salesman x top male reader

synopsis: The salesman doesn't believe that he is inferior to anyone. Until today

content warnings: 18+, hate sex, reader is the masked officer, salesman is a BRAT, collars, spanking, spit as lube, pain kink, collar pulling, mild chocking, unprotected sex, anal sex, no afteracre, dead dove do not eat (?)

word count: 1.2k

You had always known that he was dangerous.

Not in the way the guards were—cold, efficient, unquestioning. Not in the way the VIPs were—ravenous beasts disguised in silk and money. No, this man was dangerous in a different way. His voice could slip into your mind like honey-coated poison, his smiles always a little too knowing, his gaze lingering a second too long. He was a chess player who never made a move without thinking ten steps ahead.

But tonight, for once, he wasn’t the one holding the winning hand.

“You really think you can control me?” His voice was low, smooth despite his predicament.

He was pinned, hands bound behind his back with expertly knotted rope. His suit—always so sharp, so annoyingly put-together—was rumpled now, dishevelled from the struggle. A few buttons had popped open in the chaos, exposing the dip of his collarbone, and the curve of his throat. Despite it all, despite being restrained and on the losing end for once, he still dared to smirk.

Like he had already won.

You gave the leash a firm tug, and for the first time, his breath hitched.

The deep red collar sat snugly around his neck, the silver buckles glinting under the dim light. You had never expected to get this far—to actually get it on him. But you had learned something valuable tonight: for all his cunning, for all his sharp words and sharper smiles, there was something in him that wanted to be caught.

“You’re awfully mouthy for someone tied up,” you said, voice even. Calculated. Dangerous.

His smirk deepened, his chin tilting up slightly in defiance. “And you’re awfully cocky for someone who thinks rope is enough to keep me in place.”

You pulled the leash again—harder this time—and his words cut off into a sharp inhale. His lips parted slightly, his body shifting, and for the first time, there was something new in his gaze. The usual amusement was still there, but beneath it—hidden in the way his fingers flexed uselessly behind his back, in the slight tremor of his breath—was something else.

Something you could use.

“You talk too much,” you murmured.

And then, before he could throw out another smart remark, you yanked him forward and kissed him.

It was messy from the start—teeth, heat, the clash of control against resistance. He made a sound against your lips, one that could have been a laugh if it wasn’t swallowed by the kiss. Even now, even as his back hit the wall and your hands fisted in his shirt, he still thought he could play his little games.

Fine. Let him try.

Because for once, you were the one making the rules.

His smirk dissolved the moment your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking his head back just enough to expose more of his throat. He gasped against your mouth, and you felt it—the briefest hitch in his breath, the way his pulse pounded beneath your lips as you kissed down the sharp line of his jaw.

“You enjoying yourself?” you muttered against his skin, lips ghosting over the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

His breath shuddered. “You tell me.”

You bit down—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind him exactly who was in control here. He jolted slightly, a sharp inhale slipping through his teeth, and for the first time, he didn't have some clever remark.

Good.

You kissed him again—deeper, rougher, tasting the frustration on his tongue, the slight shake in his breath. His body pressed against yours, the ropes at his wrists going taut as if he had momentarily forgotten they were there, as if instinct told him to grab at you. But he couldn't.

That realization sent a shudder through him.

"You hate this, don’t you?” you murmured, pulling back just enough to watch his reaction. His lips were slightly swollen, breath uneven, but his smirk had returned—lazy, infuriating. “Being under someone else’s control?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, tilting his head. “Hate is a strong word.”

You dragged your thumb across his bottom lip, pressing down just slightly, watching as his gaze darkened.

"Good," you muttered. "Then you'll be just fine."

And with that, you kissed him again—longer, rougher, letting the heat coil between you, letting him understand, once and for all, that this time he wasn’t the one pulling the strings.

You pushed his pants and boxers down with a swift tug, revealing his aching cock, desperate for a touch– for absolutely anything.

Were you going to give him that release? Nah, you were going to do this your way.

He shivered as the cold air hit his length– making beads of pre spill from the tip. You flipped him around so that his bare ass was facing you, still clutching the chain of his collar tightly in your other hand.

Before he could say another mocking word, you smacked his lower half, the echo vibrating through the room.

The man had a slow reaction. First, he processed what had just happened to him, and then he realized something. He liked it.

He fucking moaned.

You paused your actions, this wasn’t really supposed to be for his pleasure, but…oh well.

Continuing your actions on his ass, you let go of his collar and pulled your pants down, revealing your hard-on. You spread his cheeks before spitting right on his hole. He would have to do with that much.

The man shivered in delight as you lined your cock with his entrance, slowly pushing in until you bottomed out all the way.

His eyes were blown wide, his mouth hanging open into something like a grin. He was a fucking psychopath. It wasn’t like you could see him though. What you could see was his hole swallowing your dick again, and again, and again.

You increased your pace, bringing one of your hands back up to tug at his collar, making him crane his neck to look back at you.

“You must be enjoying this, hm? Fucking slut.”

His eyes roll to the back of his head at your words. The degradation must be getting to his head. To an extent, you understood why he was right for the… job of his if one could even call it that.

He clenched around your cock, the lack of airflow due to the tight collar only turning him on even more. His moans and gasps filled the room, hands loosely grasping onto whatever surface was beneath him.

Without warning, he released, spurting his seed onto the wall in front of him. He thinks his hole has been torn open, not that he minds.

You, however, are far from done. You release his collar, and bring both your hands back to his hips, gripping them tightly as you pound into him with reckless abandon. The man feels so much pain. But he fucking loves it.

Your pace starts to stutter slightly, as you empty yourself into him with a low groan, filling him to the brink with your seed. As you pull out, you notice that the cum spilling from his hole is tinged pink. Must be blood.

Not that you care.

Wordlessly taking off the collar, you clean yourself up with the hem of his shirt before leaving him there and walking out. There was much to be done.

The man was in bliss.

His neck was practically throbbing as he brought his fingers to it. He hadn’t felt this elation even when he was playing Russian roulette with Gi-hun.

Maybe he had to get in trouble more often.

#odins library

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odins-archives · 1 month ago

Text

SHUT UP AND LISTEN

genre: smut

pairing: sang-woo x top male reader

CW: unprotected sex, spit as lube, sub top reader, creampie, semi- public sex, a little gaslighting?

word count: 1.1k

The tension had been building for days.

Every time Sang-woo made a move, you were right there, questioning him, challenging him, getting in the way of his plans like you had some kind of moral compass that hadn’t already been crushed under the weight of this hellhole.

It was infuriating.

And tonight was the final straw.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Sang-woo muttered under his breath, voice low and tight.

“Yeah? And you do?” you shot back, arms crossed. “You think I’m just gonna sit here and nod while you throw other people under the bus?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Sang-woo snapped.

“We do. You just don’t like the options.”

His jaw clenched. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, frustration simmering just under the surface. He took a slow, measured breath like he was trying to keep his composure—but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

Finally, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply.

“Alright,” he said, voice eerily calm. “There’s only one way to do this.”

Before you could process what was happening, Sang-woo grabbed your wrist and dragged you toward the bathroom.

You scoffed, yanking against his grip. “Oh, so now you’re kidnapping me?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, shoving open the door and pulling you inside. The room was dim, the flickering fluorescent light buzzing overhead as the heavy scent of mildew and sweat clung to the air.

He didn’t stop until you were backed up against the stall door, his hands gripping your shirt as he pressed closer. His breath was warm, uneven.

“What the hell is your problem?” you asked, heart pounding—not with fear, but with something else.

“My problem?” Sang-woo repeated, his voice dropping into something lower, darker. His hands curled into your collar, tugging you just a little closer. “You. You don’t listen. You always get in my way. You—”

He cut himself off, nostrils flaring as he stared at you like you were the most infuriating thing he’d ever seen.

And then, he kissed you.

It was sudden—like he’d lost whatever battle had been raging in his head. His lips crashed against yours, rough and frustrated, like he was pouring every ounce of pent-up aggression into it.

Your brain barely had time to catch up before your body reacted, hands flying to his waist as you yanked him down onto your lap.

Sang-woo let out a small, surprised noise before adjusting, his knees pressing into the seat on either side of your thighs. His hands fisted into your shirt like he hated how much he wanted this.

The kiss deepened.

It was messy, feverish—impatient. Teeth catching on lips, tongues tangling in a battle for control neither of you were willing to fully surrender. His fingers curled into your hair, gripping tight enough to make your breath hitch. You dug your fingers into his waist, dragging him closer, pressing him flush against you until there was barely any space left between you.

Sang-woo exhaled sharply through his nose, tilting his head just enough to slot his mouth over yours perfectly. His breath was warm against your lips, his hands slipping to your shoulders, pressing down, keeping you in place as he dominated the kiss.

You could feel his frustration in every movement—the way he kissed you harder whenever you made a noise, the way his fingers dug into your skin like he was grounding himself.

You didn’t mind.

Hell, you welcomed it.

A sharp bite to your lower lip made you groan, and Sang-woo pulled back just enough to smirk against your mouth. “Tch. Thought you liked talking,” he muttered, his voice low and slightly breathless.

“You—” You barely got the word out before he kissed you again, swallowing whatever comeback you had.

It was intoxicating.

“If you're going to mess up with my plans, at least be useful to me now”, the older man grunts before shifting his position slightly to yank your pants down.

You hissed as the cold air hit your cock, standing erect. It was weeping, beads of precum dripping from the head.

Sangwoo wordlessly shimmied down his pants and boxers, before prodding two fingers at your mouth.

“Suck.”

You complied, swirling the digits around with your tongue, never losing eye contact with the other man.

When he felt like his fingers were slick enough, he removed them from your lips with a pop, before angling himself differently and pressing his fingers at his hole.

He held tight onto your shoulder with his other hand as he worked on loosening himself up. Your hands were at his hips, but your mind was… well– not in the room.

He removed his fingers from his hole, and brought both hands to your shoulders, positioning himself right on top of your cock before sinking down on it.

Your breath hitched, he was so tight– and warm. You were in absolute bliss. Sangwoo hissed at the stretch has he settled down all the way till your hilt. His grip on your shoulders tightened as he started moving up and down on your cock.

You were overwhelmed with sensation, the cramped stall, the way his nails dug into your shoulders, his glasses that were almost falling off his face, but god– he looked absolutely delectable.

You lifted one hand from his waist and pushed his glasses up gently. He looked at you in surprise– his movements stuttering for a quick second before he resumed his pace, his goal solely to reach his own orgasm.

He felt it coming, and without warning, he released on your shirt, back slightly arching and one hand going to cover his mouth– he didn’t want to get caught, not like this.

You came soon after, the tightness and warmth of his gummy walls taking it out of you. You weren’t as strong as you initially thought, you couldn’t lift him off you, so you had to release in him, painting his walls a pearly white.

He looked at you with surprise, flinching as the warmth entered him, but his shoulders relaxed as his head sunk into the crook of your neck, resting from the exhaustion.

You had no idea how long you were tangled up like that, breathless and feverish, gripping at each other like the world outside didn’t exist—

Until the door creaked.

A voice.

“Wait… what the hell?”

You froze.

Sang-woo froze.

Slowly, you both turned your heads to see Gi-hun and Ali standing in the doorway, wide-eyed, mouths slightly open in sheer, unfiltered shock.

Silence.

More silence.

Then—

“I—” Ali started, blinking rapidly. “I think we should go.”

“Yeah. Yep. Good idea,” Gi-hun agreed, already backing up.

The door swung shut behind them, leaving you and Sang-woo in complete silence.

Sang-woo let out a long breath through his nose, lips slightly swollen, hair mussed. Then, without looking at you, he muttered, “This is your fault.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking. “Sure, dude.”

He sighed. “Shut up.”

But he still didn’t move from your lap.

#odins library

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