#hansol vernon smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shina913 · 1 month ago

Text

Crossfade | CHS

Pairing: Chwe Hansol (Vernon) x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: S2L; fluff; smut

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; oral (both giving/receiving); protected sex; PIV sex; dirty talk

Word count: 5k(ish) words

Summary: After a concert, you meet Hansol on a crowded train when you accidentally bump into each other. One thing leads to another, and soon you find yourself exploring his vinyl collection.

A/N: I finally put all the Vernon visuals that have been plaguing my mind for months now to good use! I'm also just really glad I got to finish this (took me long enough)! Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Your ears still rang with echoes from tonight’s concert as you boarded the train home near the arena. The car was packed and personal space became nonexistent. Despite that, the show’s excitement hadn’t worn off. Your group huddled around a single metal railing, animatedly discussing favorite moments—from surprise guests to the ever-changing encore set.

”Doors are closing,” the operator announced through the intercom. A few more concertgoers exiting the venue sprinted toward the platform, desperate to avoid a thirty-minute wait for the next train.

Mid-conversation about the show’s highlights, another group suddenly pushed into the crowded car, nearly causing you to face-plant into your friend. Just as anger flared up, you caught sight of warm, brown eyes belonging to someone behind the person who bumped you. The brown-eyed man stepped forward and offered a sincere apology for his friend’s clumsy entrance.

Time slowed, and the ringing in your ears faded as you heard him speak.

“Are you okay? Sorry, my buddy’s a bit of a klutz.” Mr. Brown Eyes shot his friend a warning look, prompting another round of apologies from him.

It took you a moment to respond. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, blinking slowly.

He turned to check on your friend whom you had stumbled into. While you struggled for words, she responded with enthusiasm: “You can run through me anytime, honey.”

Mortified, you gave her a subtle elbow nudge to shush her, but it just made her laugh more. His lips curved into a slow smile, getting a kick out of your friend’s flirty comment.

The train jerked into motion and you lost your footing again, stumbling right into him. He acted fast, circling his arm around your waist to hold you steady.

As you stood close to him, you caught a whiff of his subtle but inviting fragrance. You resisted the urge to press your nose against his skin to identify the exact scent notes of his cologne.

“Hey, are you alright there?”

Now it was your turn to stammer an apology.

“I’m…so sorry.”

He offered another smile as you regained your footing. “It’s alright. I got you.”

His eyes were like deep pools, inviting you to dive right in. If it were up to you, you’d have lost yourself in them any day—just not tonight as you heard your friends from a distance, complaining about post-concert hunger.

“I, uhm, have to get back. Thank you, though.”

A flicker of reluctance crossed his face, but he gave a polite nod and released you.

“My pleasure. Have a good night,” he said as you pulled away to rejoin your group. He returned to his friends, who stood not too far from your group.

One of your friends suggested grabbing late-night burgers and fries at a local diner a couple of stops away. Through the sound of the train car’s humming, you caught the brown-eyed stranger’s voice as he suggested the very same diner to his friends.

When the train reached the stop, your group off-boarded with him and his friends following behind.

Pushing open the diner’s door, you were greeted by a wall of sound and energy—evidently, you weren’t the only ones who craved a bite to eat after the show.

The diner had transformed into an impromptu continuation of the concert, the speakers blasting the same artist’s hits.

Your group managed to claim a booth, and just as you were settling in, you spotted him and his friends entering. They also immediately caught the infectious energy of the place, their faces lighting up with excitement.

He scanned the room for a familiar face—and though you hated to admit it, watching him search was thrilling. You lowered your menu and held his gaze, willing him to look your way. When he finally spotted you, he gave a subtle smile of acknowledgment before following his group to their table across the room.

********

After scarfing down a burger and way too many fries, the diner owner cranked up the volume, transforming the main dining area into a massive dance floor. People started moving between tables and you and your friends slid out of your booth to join the crowd, dancing and singing along.

Somewhere in the middle of this spontaneous celebration, the man from the train weaved through, making his way to you until you were standing face to face.

“Long time, no see.” There was that smile again. You caught your lower lip between your teeth, trying to contain your excitement.

“Hey.”

The music and crowd were getting louder and it became challenging to try and have an intimate conversation. He leaned into your ear, his warm breath traveling down your neck. “Did you enjoy the show tonight?”

“I did. You?” You mirrored his action, tilting your head up to his ear.

He nodded, his gaze following the gentle rhythm of your hips swaying to the infectious beat of the song. The pulsing music around you gradually faded into a muffled hum as his eyes remained fixed on you, creating your own little bubble in the midst of the crowded diner.

Like déjà vu, your bubble burst when enthusiastic dancers behind him stumbled, causing him to pitch forward. Your reflexes kicked in as your hands gripped his shoulders to steady him, catching him by surprise.

He flashed a smile, mouthing both thanks and apologies. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m just happy I could return the favor,” you grinned, watching him regain his composure.

“Hope I didn’t step on your toes?”

You laughed, shaking your head no.

After a moment’s hesitation, he relaxed and decided to introduce himself. “My name’s Hansol. What’s yours?”

Unsure what to expect from this encounter, you paused. Sure, you found him attractive, but you thought tonight would be more like a one-off. Plus, the mystery kept things interesting.

You responded with a playful laugh and raised an eyebrow at him.

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “I just want to remember who I’m dancing with.”

Okay…he’s sweet. Despite your best efforts to stay cautious, you gave in. He seemed sincere, and meeting this way felt more natural than through dating apps.

You told him your name.

He repeated it carefully, testing each syllable to make sure he said it correctly. When he said it with more confidence, you nodded in approval.

“Do you like music?”

“Isn’t that kind of obvious since I went to a concert?” you teased.

His laugh at your sarcastic response made you smile—most people would have already rolled their eyes. Sensing his genuine intentions, you let your guard down a bit and pulled back on the snark. “Sorry,” you apologized. “I do��I love all kinds of music. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you see…” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I have this vinyl collection at my place.”

Your eyebrows lifted with curiosity, which he misread as concern.

“I promise that’s not some weird code for anything,” he quickly reassured you. “I just thought you might like to listen to a few records.”

You’d always found people with vinyl collections interesting. There was something about someone who takes the time to curate physical albums in this age of streamed music. What inspired them to start collecting? What stories hid behind each carefully chosen album? What kind of music shaped their taste?

You smiled and answered, “Sure, why not?”

************

“Make yourself at home,” he invited with a warm smile, stepping aside to allow you to enter first.

Hansol’s apartment looked neat, especially for a young guy who lived alone. The shoes were neatly organized in a rack by the doorway, and there weren’t any dirty dishes in the sink as you walked past the kitchen.

When you stepped into the living space, you were immediately awestruck by the breathtaking floor-to-ceiling shelves that dominated two entire walls of his living room—each one meticulously organized with vinyl records—hundreds of them!

“Can I get you anything to drink?” He called out from the kitchen. “I have beer…” he took a quick inventory of his fridge, “and water.”

“Water is fine, thanks. It’s a little late.” You found yourself drawn to his collection, moving closer to examine it. Your fingers brushed the cardboard sleeves of the albums, feeling the different textures of each one.

A glass appeared in your peripheral vision. You turned and accepted it from him.

“Have you lived here long?” You made an attempt at small talk after taking a sip.

He narrowed his eyes to think back. “About two years now, I think? I used to move around a lot because of my job.”

“Must be difficult to transport all this,” you gestured at his expansive collection.

He laughed. “You can say that. But I hire some really good movers, especially for my records. I have a lot of vintage albums and I need people who can handle them with care.”

You explored his collection some more, spotting some familiar artists and albums while discovering others you’d never encountered before. Some titles sounded obscure and indie; some limited pressings with handwritten labels that hinted at his appreciation for musical rarities beyond mainstream catalogues.

“Pick one,” he encouraged softly. “I have them organized alphabetically by artist, then chronologically by year of release.”

There was always one album that popped into your head first when you thought of records, but you wondered if he had it. You moved toward the index divider that indicated the letter of the alphabet of that artist.

You knew the album title by heart, but the exact release year escaped you—all you remembered was that it was very old.

Just as you were about to move onto a different artist, a familiar spine caught your eye. You couldn’t help but smile, pleasantly surprised to find this in his collection. Carefully, you slid the album out of the shelf and handed it to him.

His eyebrows quirked as he examined your selection, then his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Interesting choice.”

You tilted your head to one side, curiosity piqued by his cryptic comment. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “I just didn’t expect you to pick this album”

“Well, I also didn’t expect to be in a stranger’s apartment listening to records, yet here we are.” You turned and took a seat on the couch.

“Fair.”

Hansol’s audio setup was meticulous—an analog control panel with knobs and manual sliders to adjust bass, treble, and vocals. Each control featured its own illuminated meter that glowed when he powered on the system, connecting to strategically placed speakers and subwoofers throughout the room. It was an audiophile’s dream.

The moment felt almost ceremonial as he placed the record on the turntable. Once the needle glided over the record’s grooves, the typical crackling sound echoed before the first track’s opening notes emerged. Nostalgia began to trickle in.

“Any reason why you chose this one?” he asked after propping the empty album sleeve on a stand next to the player.

“It’s…kind of cheesy,” you shook your head, turning sheepish.

He settled beside you. “No, really. I’d like to know the story behind this,” he said, sounding genuinely curious.

You felt vulnerable under his gaze, but something about it made you feel safe. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Try me.”

You narrowed your eyes briefly, wondering if you should share a personal memory to this stranger you had just met.

He waited patiently, careful not to press too hard so he didn’t cross that line.

What the hell. You had sprung right for his invitation despite only a few lines of conversation between you.

You cleared your throat. “So when I was little, my grandparents used to babysit me often, and they would play this album whenever I was at their house.” Your voice softened at the memory. “They’ve been gone a while, but this album always reminds of them.”

A smile broke through his lips.

“You said you weren’t going to laugh!”

“I’m not laughing,” he insisted, his face remaining neutral.

“No, I know it’s sappy,” you groaned, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your sentimentality.

“Not at all. I think that’s really sweet. I also happen to love this album,” he confessed. “I won it from an online auction. I even got into a bidding war with somebody from some place I can’t pronounce.”

His anecdote brought a smile to your face. Then, he delved into the album’s history, explaining its conception, the intricate recording process, and how the artist crafted it as a profound declaration of love for their partner.

Maybe it was the lingering rush of endorphins from tonight’s concert, but you found yourself utterly captivated not just by the random trivia, but by the enthusiastic way he waxed poetic about it. It was as if he’d held onto all this information, only waiting for the right person to tell it to.

You turned to face him, tucking one leg beneath you while resting your elbow against the back of the sofa. Leaning your head against your palm, you gave him your full attention as he continued on.

Suddenly, he paused, realizing you hadn’t said anything in a while. “I’m sorry—I just kind of went off on a tangent there. I didn’t mean to monopolize the conversation.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I’m just listening.” You wished you had come across more people like him who were passionate enough about something, and who had dedicated so much time to studying it and understanding it enough so they could convince other people about how amazing it is.

You set your empty glass on the coffee table and shifted your position, settling back into the couch cushions. This time, you narrowed the space between you, your shoulder almost brushing against his as you leaned in.

“Digital music these days is so different. With records, you catch all these hidden gems—a spontaneous ad lib or an extra guitar riff that would’ve been edited out of modern recordings. That’s what makes them so special.”

Unable to resist your closeness, he reached across and let his fingertips skim over your forearm, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, dark eyes locked into you as he shifted closer, cupping your jaw. His face was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. You close your eyes in anticipation…and then, he was gone.

“Shit,” He jumped up as soon as he heard the track skipping, hurrying to the player to carefully lift the tone arm before it did more damage to the record. He sighed and smiled regretfully. “Gotta love vintage.”

You shrugged, “S’okay.”

He glanced at your empty glass. “Do you want a refill?”

What you’d really liked him to do was come back on the couch next to you. Before you got a chance to answer, your phone buzzed from your purse. Checking the screen, you found your friend’s caller ID flashing.

“Sorry, I need to take this.” You rushed down a hallway, away from the living room, before picking up.

Your friend was panicking when she heard your voice, asking if you were okay since you hadn’t checked in. You had a system for safety when you were out with guys—regular check-ins were the rule. This was your first time missing a text update, though she could still track your location. Speaking quietly, you reassured her that everything was fine and promised to call her once you got home—which seemed to placate her.

“Is everything okay?” Hansol asked the moment you hung up.

When you turned to face him, his tall, lean frame filled the narrow hallway as he leaned against the wall, his expression concerned. In the brief silence before you answered, you noticed music drifting through the room again—he must have flipped the record to its B-side while you were on the phone.

“Yeah. It’s just my friend checking in.” You tried to keep your voice steady despite how much his presence affected you.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, pushing off the wall to make his way toward you. “Do you have to leave?”

“I don’t have to.” The words came out softer than intended, but they made his eyes light up with interest.

His lips quirked in a small smile as he moved closer, the hallway feeling much narrower than it already was. “That’s good to hear.”

“Oh? How so?” You stayed rooted to your position, heart racing as you awaited his next move.

He drew closer until you were pressed against the wall, making it increasingly difficult to maintain coherent thoughts.

“I was hoping I could play you some more records,” his voice dropping lower. “I have some more favorites I’d love to share with you.”

“But you have so many.” Your voice wavered despite your attempt to keep it together (and spectacularly failing). “We could be here all night.”

His eyes danced with amusement as they roamed over your features. “I fail to see the problem there. Unless…you don’t want to, of course?” His voice was gentle, allowing you an easy out if you wanted to take it.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. Bringing your face closer to his, you asked, “You think you can keep me entertained with your records all night?”

He brushed his nose against yours, the gentle contact sending shivers through your entire body. “I have other ways to keep you entertained, if you’re interested.”

You turned your head toward the end of the hallway, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite his proximity to you.

“What’s back there?” You jutted your chin, though you already knew the answer.

“My bedroom.”

“Ah.” You tried to sound casual, but your pulse quickened, your breath catching slightly in your throat as you swallowed hard.

“Would you...like to see it?”

“Are there more records in there?” You asked playfully, your fingers itching to touch him.

“Would you go in if I said there were?”

His face hovered inches from yours, his breath ghosting across your lips. The slight part of his mouth a silent invitation—one that tested the limits of your self-control.

So you succumbed to desire, bunching the hem of his shirt in your hand and pulling him in, eliminating what little space remained between you, sealing your mouth over his.

His fingertips skated gently down your arm until they reached your hand. Linking your fingers together and backing into the bedroom, taking you with him.

******

His bedroom was just as neat as the front room—every surface pristine and organized—though you barely had time to appreciate it before his arms captured you, his lips finding yours again.

Guiding you to the bed, he sat down and drew you between his knees, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

You peeled off his shirt, and he helped you out of yours, both of you savoring each newly exposed inch of skin.

You took a moment to admire the sight of him gazing up at you from his seated position—his bare chest rising and falling with quickened breaths, eyes filled with barely-contained eagerness and a hint of vulnerability.

Something about him felt inexplicably familiar. Despite having only met by chance, you felt a connection between you—one that felt mutual, judging by the way his lips moved against yours.

His fingers traced up your arms to your shoulders, where he slowly slipped your bra straps down, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. You reached behind to undo the clasp, letting him pull the black lace fabric away.

Your breath caught when his thumb grazed your nipple. You cradled his jaw, tilting his face up to yours and sweeping your tongue across his lips. His hands rested on your hips while he trailed kisses down your abdomen. Your body arched toward him, craving more of his touch.

You eased yourself onto the mattress, straddling his thighs. Your fingers wove through his hair, angling his head just right to slot your mouth with yours.

He slowly fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him until you were pressed against his chest.

Wrapping his arms around you, he rolled you beneath him, nuzzled briefly against your throat, then moved lower. He teased your nipples with soft brushes of his lips and slow, gentle licks. You squeezed your shut, whimpered and tugged his head closer, your skin heating to his touch.

“More?” He asked as his mouth hovered over a hardened tip.

“Yes.”

He wrapped his lips around your breast, drawing it into the wet heat of his mouth. Your thighs instinctively tightened against his sides as pleasure coursed through you, your core aching with need.

He trailed downward, pausing to swirl his tongue around your navel in teasing circles. Your stomach tensed as a shaky whimper escaped your lips, making him smile against your skin.

He slid your bottoms down your legs, tossing it on the floor. Once exposed before him, he positioned your knees over his shoulders. Cupping beneath you with both hands, he lifted you to his waiting mouth. His nose pressed against the apex of your thighs as he drew his tongue slowly along your sensitive flesh. Your muscles went slack against the sheets, all traces of tension melting away.

He continued lavishing attention on your sensitive folds, drawing desperate sounds from your throat. His tongue circled your center before he wrapped his lips around it, applying light suction that made you instinctively press your legs together. His firm grip kept you spread open, completely at his mercy.

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly, making you groan and buck against his touch. You chased the sensation as he alternated between feather-light flicks of his tongue and steady strokes. Your pulse thrummed, your core tightening as you edged closer to your peak.

You exhaled sharply as your orgasm took hold, a lingering moan escaped your lips. Your thighs trembled while he slowed his fingers to draw out your pleasure, punctuating it with gentle laps against your swollen bud.

He shifted carefully from under your wobbly legs and reached over his nightstand.

While he busied himself with the condom wrapper, you seized an opportunity—sitting up and undoing his pants, pulling his boxers down until his hard length sprang free. Your mouth watered when you took his cock in your hand, pumping slowly, before lowering your lips to suck on the tip. You looked up to see him staring down at you, slack-jawed while you took him in deeper.

He craned his neck, watching your head bob up and down. When you hollowed your cheeks, he exhaled sharply, eyes squeezing shut.

His breathing became ragged, one hand on your nape while he kept the other tightly fisted on his side to maintain some semblance of control. You thrust him into your mouth repeatedly, working him fast and deep, his flesh silky against your tongue. The friction from your quickening strokes and his responding groans of appreciation sent waves of arousal through you both.

Unable to stand it any longer, when you pulled up, he broke from your hold with a wet pop.

Your feigned disappointment makes him chuckle. “I’m not coming that way,” he tutted. Cupping your chin, he gives you a chaste kiss.

You watch eagerly as he sheathes himself with a condom, then nudges your legs wider to guide his length to your entrance.

Your eyes fluttered as he eased in the first inch. He let your body set the pace, patiently waiting as your muscles stretched to accommodate him.

Peering upward, you found him flushed and bright-eyed, a sheen of sweat dotting his brow as he sank deeper with achingly slow precision. He cupped your head, holding you still while he eased down to the hilt.

Lifting his hips, he withdrew completely before sinking back in—still slow but purposeful. Your inner walls constricted, eliciting deep groans from you both. He gritted his teeth, fighting against the urge to fuck you without restraint—though you wouldn’t mind if he did.

He pressed his chest to yours and you’re mesmerized by the raw pleasure etched across his features—each furrow of his brow, every sigh that escaped from his parted lips with each downward stroke pushed you closer to the edge.

“I don’t know if I can last long. You feel...fucking amazing.” He thrust at a steady pace while peppering soft kisses along your neck.

You moaned as he sank deeper, your fingers gripping his ass while grinding your hips against him.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he said with a laugh, pausing his movements.

“I fail to see the problem there,” you say with a raised eyebrow, throwing his earlier cheeky remark back at him. “You can go harder. I can take it.”

He narrowed his eyes, then dipped down to playfully nip at your lower lip. Suddenly, you felt empty, realizing that he’d pulled out.

Before you could protest, you were flipped on all fours, his knees spreading you wider for him.

The pounding in your clit and the needy clenching of your empty cunt drove you insane, even more when he stroked your wet folds teasingly.

Bending over you, he gasped in your ear, “Want me to fuck you hard, huh?”

“Yes, please…” you begged him.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Soon enough, he pushed back inside you, your walls clenching and drawing him deeper.

Pressing your cheek to the mattress, you angled your hips higher to meet each thrust. Your eagerness spurred his own primal need to come. He pounded into you, tears stinging your eyes from raw pleasure. Each slam of his hips delivered exactly what you’d begged for—over and over again.

Your core tensed as he thrust forward, his movements steady and rough. His breath came in harsh pants, struggling to maintain control with each deep plunge.

You reached between your legs to rub your pulsing clit, until your last shred of control dissipated.

Just like that, you shattered under him on a breathy cry, coming harder than the first time.

You were just coming down from your high when he rolled you on your back again.

He hovered over you, slotting himself between your legs. His cock parted your folds, and with how wet you were, he slid right in. Even though your core still hummed with the remnants of your orgasm, your want began to build again as soon as his lips found yours.

Suddenly, you didn’t mind the slower pace. Every stroke of his tongue in your mouth turned you on more than the slide of his cock.

Completely consumed by desire, your mouths and bodies undulated, moans and cries of pleasure echoing through his bedroom walls.

His thrusts then became more urgent, more ragged; giving up all control. He quickened his last few drives, sending him over the edge.

He grunted and held himself deep in you, pulsing with each wave of his climax washing over him. His fingers dug into your flesh—sure to leave bruises tomorrow—before he collapsed on top of you, joining you in your aftermath.

*******

The morning peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the rumpled sheets on Hansol’s bed. You stirred, stretching a hand out across—only to find the space empty. The sound of the front door shutting caught your attention, followed shortly by soft music drifting from somewhere in the apartment. Curiosity pulled you out of bed.

You found your clothes and padded your way to the kitchen, where Hansol was arranging breakfast.

“Morning,” you greeted him quietly.

He turned around, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Hey,” he said, sliding a cup of coffee your way, along with some cream and sugar. “I wasn’t sure how you took it, so I got everything. I also have some tea, if you’re not a coffee person.”

“No, no—I love coffee, thank you,” you said as you settled on a seat by the counter. You reached for the cup and added your cream and sugar. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” he replied, rounding the corner to take the seat next to you. He pushed a plate in your direction, piled with still-warm croissants and muffins. “These are really good, if I say so myself. The bakery down the street makes them fresh every day.”

You thanked him again and helped yourself to a pastry. “So…you do this often?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light.

“You mean eat breakfast?”

You laughed softly at his remark, then clarified, “No. I mean—invite strangers to your place, play them records…sweep them off their feet?”

Suddenly flustered, he shook his head. “Never. I don’t really do this kind of thing. But for some reason, last night felt...different.” His eyes met yours in earnest. “Different in a good way,” he added softly.

You hid your smile behind your coffee cup, feeling a flutter in your chest at his response.

The record player spun quietly in the background, filling the comfortable silence between you.

“Do you have any plans today?” He asks slowly.

“No, why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to stay a little longer. Or if not, maybe we could go on a proper date sometime—one that doesn’t start with a record and end with our clothes on my floor?”

He watched as you took a slow sip of your coffee. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you considered his offer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

His whole face lit up. “Yeah?”

You nod.

“Great,” he said, with a quiet enthusiasm that made you feel like you just made his entire day.

“Although—I would like to go home for a bit and freshen up, maybe grab a change of clothes.” You gestured at your outfit from the night before. You weren’t exactly dressed for a full day out. “But after that, I’m all yours for whatever you have in mind?”

“Oh, of course! I can drive you home whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush,” he offered.

You nodded and smiled, already feeling excited about the possibilities the day might hold.

“Also, just so you know—”

He glanced up from his coffee cup, curious.

“I don’t mind doing the rest of the stuff after, too. You know, if you’re up to it,” you said casually.

He gave you a knowing smile before he took a sip. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

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chanranghaeys · 2 months ago

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🎼 complementary wavelengths

Wouldn’t falling in love with your research partner compromise the integrity of the research study? You had no idea. But if that were the case, then you were in for some major trouble.

pairing: university professor!vernon x high school teacher!fem!reader word count: 2.8k+ genre: fluff for valentine’s day! rating: g tags: non-idol au, distant college friends to ???, first love :(, they both grew up!, we stan emotionally healthy MEN in here warnings: i claim no accuracy on the academic process because i am not a teacher and no accuracy on the mathematics and scientific concepts here because i am absolutely not a mathematician or a scientist

a/n: surprise lexi @heechwe, i’m your secret cupid! a huge thanks to jupiter @ddeonghwa-s for hosting this secret cupid valentine’s event! it took A WHILE for me to churn this out but we persist and bounce back to writing! a very very special thanks to kae @ylangelegy for beta reading! and to @svtreverie, @choitcherryanne, and k for being my forever hypegirls mwa mwa

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✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“So, Ms. Y/L/N, do you have a Valentine's date already?”

You roll your eyes for what must be the millionth time. “For the last time, this is grounds for unbecoming conduct, young lady.”

“I’m just saying!” Your student Sofia laughs. “You deserve to have a good Valentine’s Day this year.”

“Since when have you played matchmaker for me, Ms. Chwe?”

“Since we saw you crying in the school parking lot,” Sofia’s best friend Meena chimed in supportively. Come on, Ms. Y/L/N. You can’t expect us to sit around and do nothing.”

“Especially not for our favorite Maths teacher!”

You shake your head at these two high schoolers. You knew you couldn’t play favorites amongst your students, but these two and their stubbornly infectious energy sparked a little of your youth back in you. Plus, you really couldn’t blame them because they were right about that school parking lot incident.

It was after this brunch date went terribly wrong a few weeks ago. And while it was very unbecoming of a teacher for her students to find her squat and sobbing against her car, these two were like guardian angels that took you under their wings and brought you ice cream and were girl’s girls all the way—as if they weren’t almost a whole decade younger than you.

Since then, Sofia and Meena would secretly try to find you a potential Valentine’s date amongst teachers, guardians, single parents, older siblings, school staff, or anyone at this point. They were wholly invested—and not just because you were the best teacher they’ve ever had in their very subjective opinion.

From afar, you see a familiar figure leaning against his car, signature plain white tee with jeans underneath his selected outerwear of the day—this time, it was a black denim jacket with a matching Yankees cap.

You've noticed him for a while now, dropping by a few days a week. You've thought about approaching him several times as well, but you always stopped this impulse. However, today was different.

“Sofia, would you mind calling over your brother here for a second?”

“What is this about?” Sofia had her eyebrow raised. Despite her age, it was hard not to take her seriously given that you were both standing at the same height.

“You know what this is about. He told me that you gave him my email address.”

A look of understanding lit in Sofia’s eyes. “Ah, that thing. Yeah, gimme a second.”

Meena stayed behind to continue the line of questioning. “So what’s that thing?”

“It’s a post-grad thing of sorts. Don’t mind it, you have enough schoolwork on your head to be thinking about this.”

She just chuckled in return. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I remind you that Sofia’s brother is single, handsome, respectful, decent, and smart. You can see why I personally have a vested interest in this thing already.”

“Meena.”

She heard your tone shift and straightened herself. It was a subtle reminder that she was still your student and that you were still her teacher.

“I’m just stating facts,” she said with a shrug and a quieter tone.

Sofia’s distant voice calling out for her friend caught both of your attention. At the same time, you see the figure in black and white walking toward you in his confident and deliberate strides.

“I’ll go ahead Ms. Y/L/N. See you tomorrow! And good luck on the thing,” Meena said with a smile and a wave. When she passes the figure, she does a slight bow out of respect, which he reciprocates. This exchange quirks up the corner of your lips. You recall what Meena said earlier, and it prods at you with an irk of frustration.

It frustrates you that she’s right.

When he finally stood before you with a smile, a flood of memories came crashing back. Suddenly, you’re back on your college campus standing underneath your favorite tree, a girl in front of a boy.

“I got your email, Professor Chwe. It’s been a while.”

“It has been a while Ms. Y/L/N.”

You chuckle at your monikers. Who knew two scruffy college students would turn out to be respectful academicians? “Formalities aside, it’s so nice to hear from you again Vernon.”

“Likewise.”

“I see the teaching gig in university hasn’t changed your sense of casual style.”

Vernon looks you up and down in your sensible collared button-up and slacks ensemble. You completely ignore the growing flutters in your stomach. “I can see that this high school has changed yours.”

“Well, you gotta do what you gotta do. The kids actually like my sense of style, mind you.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed Sofia starting to wear blazers all of a sudden. I never thought that it’d be you I’d blame for that.”

You feel something in your chest, a sudden churn and an unexpected leap. As a teacher, you’ve mastered your emotions enough to mask your face into one that wouldn’t give everything away. But these primal emotions were almost too much to bear.

Is this what it really feels like to face your first love after so many years apart?

“Anyway,” you continue as a means to deflect before anything else gives away your true feelings. “You emailed me about your dissertation? You really didn’t give much away. And you know you could’ve just sent me a message.”

“Oh, yeah!” Vernon nods vigorously in emphasis of your statement. “I need someone good in applied mathematics.”

“And you need me for that because?”

He blinks at you. “Because you are good at applied mathematics. I want your help for my musicology dissertation.”

You let out a sigh of disbelief. “Vernon, I—”

“And don’t you dare say you’re not good,” he insists with his finger pointed at you. “I’ve read your research papers. I don’t even know why you stay teaching in high school. You could’ve been tenured by now. Or on a sabbatical like me.”

He’s read my research papers? So he’s been following my work? You shake your head to clear these unnecessary thoughts, which are immediately replaced by a sense of uncertainty. “I don’t know, I’m pretty busy these coming months…”

You really didn’t know why you were avoiding it. This was the perfect academic opportunity and you had no idea why you were avoiding it.

Okay, scratch that. You knew exactly why—because of him.

“No problem, we’ll be able to pace the progress. Besides,” he continued, “you’ve always been my study buddy. I know we’ll be really good partners for this one.”

With one sentence, he has almost reduced you to a blushing schoolgirl with a huge crush.

Oh wait, weren’t you one already?

But still, you couldn’t resist stoking the flame that had been sparked inside you. So you ask, “Why me? Were there no other worthy research partners in your esteemed university?”

“Nope. I choose you,” he answered with a lopsided smirk. “I think you’ll understand why when you hear what my dissertation is about.”

“What is it about?”

“Do you wanna go out for coffee?”

“What?”

“What?” Vernon said in more of a statement than a question.

“What does coffee have anything to do with this?”

“Unless you want to keep standing here with your students watching us, I think it’s better if we continue this discussion somewhere else.”

You peer over his shoulder to see Sofia and Meena watching the two of you from the car like hawks, ready to catch any significant interaction that might give away what you two were talking about. When you met their line of sight, they were ready to bring their phones up to feign their disinterest.

“There’s a cafe on the next street over. If you’d like to go there…”

“Nice,” he said cooly, his voice low and sure.

He lifted his phone to his ear. From your peripheral vision, you see his sister raise her own phone in response. It was almost comical how you could see their silent reactions from across the courtyard, with Meena vibrating with excitement and slapping the other girl’s arm as you hear Sofia’s voice trying to sound calm through the speaker of Vernon’s phone. You see them hurriedly lowering the car window and lifting their thumbs up toward your direction.

They seem to think they have finally succeeded. You wouldn’t give them that benefit yet.

When he hung up, Vernon addressed your confused look. “Sofia’s been annoying me about getting the car anyway, so they can have it. Let’s walk?”

It was silent at first. The early afternoon sun cooperated with the cool breeze, setting the atmosphere for a nice leisurely walk. Students and office workers were milling around the nearby commercial strip, with the sounds and conversations all mingling in the background.

It had been years since you last spent time together like this, in an environment not too different from this one. After your study sessions in the library, you two walked together to your shared classes, which by some stroke of luck always seemed to happen for at least one class every semester until you graduated.

You both hung in different circles. He hung around with his fellow music majors in band practices and the college’s musicians organization, while you spent the majority of your time with your mathematics batchmates in the library or the school quad, catching up on problem sets and homework before you needed to make it to your choir’s rehearsals at night.

But when you ended up as seatmates in your first semester, you made a comment on the Bach piece he was listening to, how Bach was actually a pretty mathematical composer. He asked you how you knew that.

You said, “I take mathematics. I needed a cool fun fact for introductions.”

From that moment on, Vernon took it upon himself to make you appreciate how mathematical Bach’s pieces were. Music became your common language amongst everything else in the background, and the rest was history.

“Okay,” you began, “You know that we haven’t really spoken to each other since graduation. So…why choose me? Not that I’m complaining, though! I’m just…shocked, I guess. And confused. Because if you’ve read my research, you’d know that it’s been years since I published anything.”

Throughout your rambling, Vernon simply looked at you. When you finally stop, you notice the clear brown of them looking straight into you. It had been years, but they were the same eyes that looked at you, that listened intently when you were explaining a complex math concept.

It had been years, but that almost unblinking gaze of his still made your heart do unexplainable leaps in your chest.

You broke away from the intensity of his gaze. He took this as a cue to answer your question. “I was looking for research papers to help me form my framework. Then I stumbled on your computations of metered wavelengths and frequencies, and their relation to different kinds of sound.”

That paper. “Oh.”

His lips turned up in the corners when he continued. “I suddenly remembered how we randomly theorized this during one of our study sessions. I couldn’t believe you actually turned it into your master's thesis.”

“You still remember that?”

“Of course. I never thought I’d find someone so in tune with me and my random theories.”

“If you’ve read the paper, you’ll know that it wasn’t a random theory at all. You might just have discovered the makings of a postulate as a college sophomore.”

“It wouldn’t have been possible without your mind making sense of it. You really are the brightest of your batch.”

You scoff at the remark. “We’re not in college anymore, Vernon. There are a lot of other bright minds out there.”

“None quite like yours, I’m sure.”

You reach the cafe and order in—a decaf iced americano for you, and a hot chocolate for him. As soon as you two get seated, he finally launches into an animated discussion of his dissertation topic about discovering the medical applications of using the various sound wavelengths from certain types and compositions of music to aid in both the operation and healing process of a person, with the goal of identifying a singular formula to determine the right wavelength for each medical situation. He had his medical experts, all he needed was his mathematician.

It was a lot to digest, to say the least.

But by the end of it all, you were in awe of both Vernon and his mind. He is smart. He’d always been smart, but it felt like the confines of university and immaturity bounded his full potential. Now that he’s seen and explored the world of academia, he was able to finally showcase how bright of a mind he really is.

“Can I tell you something?” You set down your coffee and leaned forward.

As if second nature, he mirrored your action to the tee. “Shoot.”

“I’m proud of you. Really. You used to be this mysteriously awkward guy in college who just played around with guitars and 808s. But I always knew you’d put that big brain of yours to good use.”

He opens his mouth as if in reply, but stops midway and just smiles and scrunches his nose. After a beat, he nods with a look of quiet decision. “Can I tell you something, then?” He asks, worrying his thumb with his other hand as he looks at you. You nod in response.

“It was you that inspired me to be this version of myself. Because you can’t only be smart, you also have to work hard. None of my friends back then had that mindset, then came you.”

“What are study buddies for, yeah?” You raise your fist in front of you. He looks at it and smiles his trademark gummy smile. In return, he bumps his own fist into yours, reminiscent of how you two would check in on each other during extended hours in the library finishing a project or a paper. A fist bump to make the heads bump, you two used to say.

Instead of lowering his fist after, he holds it there flush against yours. “Would it be weird for me to say that it’s honestly more than that?”

“What do you mean?”

He took in a deep breath and let out an exhale just as deep. “When I read your papers, I remembered everything we went through in uni and I just…kinda fell in love with your brain again, I guess. Even until now, you—and your work—inspired me to just do it. Then you started popping up everywhere in my life again and…I remembered how I did kinda fall in love with everything else about you. I was just too young and chicken to see it before.”

It took you a whole minute to find your voice again because how could he be this nonchalant? “You’re really just here dropping all these truth bombs without any warning, huh?”

“Like you said, we’re not in college anymore. I’d rather say it now than never.” Vernon’s smile is a shy one, hidden behind his hot chocolate cup. You can’t believe it took a dissertation paper for anyone’s feelings to be revealed—much less his.

As your mind reels with Vernon’s revelation, you scramble your brains to come up with a lighthearted retort. “So are you still kinda in love with me? Just so I know what and how we’re working on this project.”

He chuckles. “I don’t think you’re doing any better. Don’t think I don’t see you staring whenever I fetch Sofia from school.”

You gape at his reply. “How do you even know where to look for me?”

“You’re her last teacher of the day and you both leave the school at the same time. I told you. You just came barging into my life again unannounced, and it wasn’t even your fault. You just sort of…fell in there.”

A smug look took over your features, one you really couldn’t help after hearing all that he had to say. “Vernon Chwe, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were so down bad for me.”

“For that whip-smart brain and that adorable smile, maybe—theoretically—astronomically and catastrophically down bad even.”

You fight the heat rising to your cheeks—and fail. After a cough to hide your growing embarrassment, you say, “I think we’re done for the day.”

“Sure. So. Same time tomorrow?”

You were about to answer when you suddenly realized, “Vernon, it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Don’t you have any other plans?”

He shakes his head and looks you straight in the eye as he says, “Just you. If you say yes.”

Wouldn’t falling further in love with your research partner compromise the integrity of the study? You had no idea. But if that were the case, then you were in for some major trouble.

601 notes · View notes

taeyongdoyoung · 2 months ago

Text

beg for you

summary: missing your ex, you stumble upon an interesting song that brings back memories you thought you could bottle up... pairing: vernon x reader genre: angst, smut, exes to online friends to lovers warnings: mentions of past break-up, reader felt neglected and lonely, insecurities, lowkey catfishing+lie by omission, swearing, song-writing themes, some serious talks, hand-holding, kissing, spitting, eating out, fingering, dom!vernon, orgasm denial, public unprotected sex (in a café bathroom), mainly lots of emotions, idk author's note: the fic was inspired by this iconic song, in particular vernon's verse and it has some occasional references to the lyrics in bold word count: 2.6k

It's been three months since you ended things with Vernon, blocked his number and all his socials and tried your best to forget about him. The reason for your break-up was mainly because you felt like he never had time for you, his music always came first and while that was appealing at the start of your relationship, it began to infuriate you and make you feel invisible towards its end. He would stand you up and forget about your dates more than once. He would make you feel like you were always his second choice. Not being around him hurts like hell, because you'd become so used to his presence that the lack of it brings so much emptiness. And also because a part of you still loves him.

One evening, you can't fall asleep so you're scrolling through some music apps. Suddenly you discover a new song. The artist hides their face behind a mask but their voice sounds somewhat familiar. Strangely enough, the lyrics just speak to you:

I don't think I'll ever feel this type of way again (This way again; Yеah, uh, yeah) I beg for you, please (Don't let go), don't let go of me, don't let go of me All the endless conversations about us been going on in our head In the night, we dream a future together and I feel bad in your bed I beg for you, please stay, I can't go a day without No, I can't go a day without you, hoo

So weird. It's like the artist knows exactly what's been on your mind for the past three months. You shut your phone off with a sigh and attempt to get some sleep. The next day, that same melody and those words haunt you. And the following day…It goes on for a while and you've become so obsessed with it that you try to do some research on the artist. Unfortunately, it's not of much help. Nobody knows the identity of the artist, how they look or their real name. It's frustrating but it is what it is. Maybe you should drop it. But then again…you really can't stop thinking about these fucking lyrics and how well they described how you've been feeling.

You decide to do something stupid and slide into the DMs of the anonymous artist. They'll probably never see this message as they have thousands of followers, but still, you need to get this off your chest somehow.

You: Hi, you probably get this a lot but your lyrics are really relatable, like they truly spoke to me and totally represent the way I've been feeling for the past three months. You're incredibly talented and I'd be happy to hear more of your music in the future.

It's a short message, nothing too crazy. You feel a sense of relief once you've sent it. You realize it doesn't matter if the artist ever sees it. You're just happy you were able to express your feelings.

To your immense shock, about 30 minutes later, you receive a notification. This is actually so insane you can't believe your eyes. The anonymous artist…texted you back?!

RevN98: Hi, this really means a lot to me. Actually, I don't get a lot of feedback, as I'm just starting out. I'll try my best to write more music. In what ways did you relate to the lyrics?

Is he seriously…initiating a discussion? It is wild enough he texted you back but the fact he wants to continue texting baffles you. But you are not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. So, you respond rightaway.

You: I got out of a long-term relationship a couple of months ago and even though I should probably move on already, some part of me wishes my ex begged for me to stay. I know it's probably a selfish thought, considering I'm the one who broke up with the guy, but…I miss him sometimes and I keep thinking of a universe in which he'd fought for me.

After sending that message, you look at it in horror as you realize how personal it was. Why is it so easy to open up to a complete stranger? And not to people who actually know you…

You: Sorry, that was probably a whole bunch of TMI. Anyways, I really thought your lyrics were connected to how I was feeling if that makes sense.

You double text just in case. The response from the mysterious artist comes soon after.

RevN98: It makes sense, yeah. When I was writing them, I was also thinking about my past relationship. Honestly, I kind of wish I'd begged my ex to stay. I thought that by not doing so, I was respecting her wishes and giving her space. But now that it's been a while, I can't help but think I should have expressed myself better. I really miss her, though, so I guess that got reflected in the lyrics somehow.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts and figure out what to text.

You: Aw, man. Whoever your ex is, she's lucky to have such lyrics written about her. Even if it's over, maybe there's a way she finds your music and…I don't know, reconsiders things?

RevN98: Hah, that'd be a dream come true. I don't think she likes the kind of music I make.

You: Why not? Your music is great!

RevN98: Well, the truth is I was spending more time on my music than time with her. So, I guess that's one of the reasons for our break-up.

My God. This feels…too similar to your situation it gives you goosebumps. Despite that, it's like your fingers are possessed as they keep itching to text the anonymous artist back.

You: Time changes the way people feel. Maybe if you're honest with her and how you're feeling, there's a chance for a reconciliation. Or at least some closer. You should call her!

RevN98: I'd love that but she's blocked my number.

You: Use a friend's phone, duh!

RevN98: That'd be suspicious, considering I haven't told any of my friends about our break-up.

You: Dang…you're really not over this girl, huh?

RevN98: Not a chance.

You: So…what are you going to do?

RevN98: I don't know, for the time being texting you helps to ease the pain.

You: Likewise. But just to give you a heads-up, I'm not interested in any rebound relationship.

RevN98: Great. I'm not interested in that, either.

You: So…online buddies, then?

RevN98: Sounds good to me.

It is so strange how quickly the mysterious artist becomes part of your everyday life. You text each other quite often about anything. From what you've had for breakfast to what other music you've been listening to. From where you're planning to go with your friends to…how much you miss your exes. It is truly extraordinarily easy to talk to them. You still don't know much. How they look, what their real name is, where they live…But somehow it's enough knowing they're out there making awesome and relatable music.

Until one day it isn't.

You: We should meet up!

RevN98: I don't think that is a good idea…My schedule's crazy lately.

You: What do you mean? It's not like you have live performances.

You point out the obvious because from what you've gathered, maintaining this anonymity is key to RevN98.

RevN98: I just don't feel comfortable meeting in person…

You: Are you worried I'd expose your identity? You know I'm not that kind of person, right?

RevN98: I'm not worried about that. It's hard to explain. It would make sense if we met up, which is exactly why we can't meet up.

You: I'm super confused right now. But you know how important honesty is to me. So, it's now or never, I guess. If you don't want to meet up in the near future, I don't think I want to continue being friends…

You wait a couple of minutes, to give them a chance to make a decision. Finally, the response comes.

RevN98: Okay, let's meet up.

They text you a time and place. And then you ask the crucial question.

You: How will I know it's you?

RevN98: Trust me, you'll know.

This is…so cryptic. You guess you'll just have to rely on the fact that there are a bunch of photos of you on your profile, so the musician would be able to recognize you first.

When you arrive at the small café, you look around nervously, waiting. Negative thoughts keep haunting your mind. What if they change their mind in the last minute and stand you up? What if they are disappointed upon meeting you and never want to text you again? What if you were too harsh by giving an ultimatum? What if-

So many scenarios and you failed to consider the one that truly matters.

What if…you run into your ex at said café? What are the fucking odds?!

"What are you doing here?" you ask Vernon, sounding a bit too rude. Better to be rude than to burst into tears or something more embarrassing.

"Waiting for you," Vernon replies simply.

"What are you talking about?" you blink in confusion. Until it clicks…No. Freaking. Way.

Vernon sighs and takes his phone out, showing you the texts between you and RevN98. And the only explanation is…fucking hell. He is RevN98.

"Please, tell me you're joking right now."

"I wish I was," Vernon looks down, feeling guilty.

"How could you do this to me?" you inquire, eyes welling up already. You feel so weak upon seeing him.

"What was I supposed to do? You had me blocked on everything."

"What, and writing me a song under a false name sounded like the greatest idea?" you snap at him.

"I just needed to talk to you again. Somehow."

"Why? What is there to say?"

"I miss you," Vernon murmurs.

"You lied to me," you insist stubbornly.

"Please come back to me," he keeps trying.

"It's too late…" you try to reject him gently.

"I'm begging you," Vernon really wants a second chance.

You shake your head, but your hands are already reaching for his. Desperate to hold them one more time, you lean closer.

"I'm not taking you back," you keep fighting it.

"Okay," he nods.

"We're just…gonna talk, yeah? Seems a waste of my great outfit to go back home."

"Okay," Vernon repeatss.

As the two of you sit down to have a chat, suddenly all of the unsaid words and undelivered messages bubble up to the surface.

"I should have fought for you. I mean it. Music is important to me but not as much as you. You are my muse, how could I go another day without you?"

"It seems you've been doing a great job writing music without me," you say bitterly.

"Oh, yeah?" Vernon raises his eyebrows cockily. "Well, I bet I can write even better if you're back in my life."

"I was too harsh," you admit. "I let my overthinking and insecurities get the worst of me. When I broke up with you, it seems I had forgotten how much I love music, too. I was so caught up in my own dark thoughts that I didn't matter to you that things escalated."

"You had a point," Vernon chuckles sadly. "I wasn't giving you the attention you needed. The attention you deserve. I was being selfish."

"I was selfish, too," you confess. "I shouldn't have made you feel like you needed to make a choice between me and music."

"I would pick you. For the record."

"Record is exactly what you'll be making," you tease him. "I'm serious. I need to hear more of what you've been working on."

"I'd love to show you. But there's something else I'd like to do first," Vernon smirks mischievously.

He grabs your hand and takes you to the café's bathroom. He pushes you inside a free booth and locks the door behind him. He kisses you under the bathroom lights eagerly, not wanting to let go ever again.

"Hey!" you chide him playfully. "I said I wasn't taking you back."

"Too bad. 'Cause I'm taking you," Vernon says assertively.

"You…you've changed," you blink in surprise.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vernon smiles and his palms dig into your lower back deliciously, as he kisses you again. "God, I missed this taste."

"You're insane," you laugh but you can't find it in you to deny it any longer. You want him so bad.

"Don't let go of me," he repeats the song's lyrics in your ear.

"I won't. As long as you promise the same," you ask.

Vernon doesn't say a word as he kneels in front of you. He picks up one of your legs and swings it over his shoulder as pulls your panties to the side. Suddenly, you're so grateful for your genius decision to wear a dress. He spits on your pussy and attacks your folds with his skilled tongue. You're already losing your mind over how good it feels, when suddenly, he pulls back.

You gasp in disappointment as your pleasure was so abruptly interrupted.

"Beg me," Vernon commands you easily. "Beg me to make you come."

"You're fucking insane," you refuse. You've always had a little bit of a brat in you.

Vernon, however, doesn't seem perturbed by your refusal to cooperate and sticks one finger inside you, teasing you slow enough to frustrate you but not fast enough to get you there. It hurts so sweetly you both hate and love it.

"Beg me," he repeats.

It would be so easy to do that. Just to get that sweet release…But the stubborn part of you is still stronger than the part of you that wants to come.

''Try harder," you grin cruelly.

Vernon is not one to back down from a challenge and unleashes his final weapon. He takes off his jeans and slides his hard cock inside you. Fuck. You'd forgotten how girthy he is.

"I missed you so much," he whispers in your ear. And his genuine words affect you more than his actions. And oh, how terribly you've missed him, too.

You hold on to the back of his neck, needing him for support. He keeps tormenting you, not moving a lot, just making you feel so full but so dissatisfied at the same time. You truly can't take it anymore.

"P-please, let me c-come," you beg for him hopelessly.

"There's my good girl," Vernon smiles proudly and adjusts his movements, adding pressure with his fingers so that you come in mere seconds.

"T-thank you, thank you," you chant, not knowing what demon possessed you to act this way.

"So polite," he laughs adorably and holds you close as he reaches his own high.

You don't want to let go of him ever again. But you're gonna have to, because you hear angry people who want to use the bathroom. Uh-oh.

You quickly try to clean each other up and rush outside, cheeks red with embarrassment.

You get a few weird looks from random people, but honestly, it doesn't matter. This felt too good.

"Sooo…" Vernon says once you've arrived at his chill but cozy apartment. "Does this mean you'll take me back?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Beg me nicely?" you suggest teasingly.

"Oh, you know I will," Vernon promises.

Bonus:

"Veeern, it's been hours, didn't you finish the song already?" you complain, desperate for his attention.

"Just five-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," you warn him, though you don't really mean it. You're just playing around. You know he cares about you deeply. Perhaps more deeply that he lets on.

"Won't you wait another hour or two?" Vernon teases you back.

"You know what? I'd wait as long as it takes," you smile and put your lips on his lips.

The End

#vernon x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen #vernon #vernon x you #vernon angst #vernon smut #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #svt scenarios #vernon scenarios #chwe hansol #hansol x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen vernon #svt angst #writing

419 notes · View notes

jjunberry · 10 months ago

Note

can you do seventeen hip hop unit headcanons where they’re having rough sex and they spit in readers mouth? 🤠

❝ open wide ❞

hip hop unit x fem!reader

warnings: sub reader, choking, spit kink, marking, pet names (baby, good girl), creampie, the boys are dominant

wc: 300 mlist

seungcheol! had you against the counter. his hips roughly snapping against yours. “fuck,” he grunted. his hand move to your throat applying pressure. “more cheolie more,” you begged. your whines only made him thrust into deeper and faster. “who’s pussy is this?” he thrusted. you whined, clawing his back. “who’s pussy?” he snapped. “y-yours,” you whined. seungcheol smirked. “open,” you opened your mouth letting seungcheol spit in it. he patted your cheek. “good fucking girl.”

wonwoo! couldn’t stop thinking about it. he heard about it from his friends and the thought of spitting in your mouth, has plagued his mind. his hands tightly gripped your hips as he pounded into you. “oh fuck, fuck,” he slowed his pace causing you to whine. “baby can i try something?” he asked. you nodded, “open your mouth.” your mouth opened. wonwoo took his chance to spit, you moaned swallowing. “fuck baby that was so hot.” he quickened his pace.

mingyu! does it every time before he cums. he’s already made you cum three times, he’s working on the fourth. mingyu loves him to finish inside you. his hand had a bruising grip on your hip with his left hand, his right tightly wrapped around your throat. “open up baby,” you opened your mouth letting in his spit. as you swallowed mingyu shot his hot load into your aching cunt.

vernon! first brought it up as a joke. he wasn’t expecting you to be into it. when you kneeled before him with your mouth open he took the chance. “swallow it,” you swallowed his salvia then stuck your tongue back out. “oh fuck, come here.” he flipped you onto your back before pounding his cock into you. “that’s it baby girl take it,” he smirked when you opened your mouth again allowing him to spit.

🗒️: like what you’ve read? send a request! guidelines for requesting here.

author’s note! those pictures mingyu posted have been plaguing my mind

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

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cheollvrs · 2 months ago

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WARNING ❗nsfw audio

🎀 your boyfriend vernon send you a voice message just to show how much he misses you and your pretty pussy <3 please send him a reward!

#vernon x reader #vernon smut #hansol vernon x reader #hansol vernon smut #seventeen x reader #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #seventeen smut #svt imagines #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt hard hours #vernon hard hours #cheollvrs

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hoshifighting · 11 months ago

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Seventeen's reaction when reader stops breathing during orgasm

Seungcheol feels you go completely still beneath him, he’d stop everything he’s doing, his eyes wide with panic. "hey, are you okay?" he’d ask urgently, shaking you gently until you start breathing again.

he slowed his movements just enough to give you a moment to catch your breath, his eyes never leaving your face. his hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek.

as your face contorts in pleasure and you tighten around him, he realizes what's happening. he was worried but also intensely turned on by the raw, uncontrolled reaction you were having.

a grin spreads across his face as he watches your blissed-out expression, the realization dawning on him that he's fucking you too good. "mhmm look at you," he chuckles, his tone teasing but relieved. "couldn't handle all of this, huh?" he continues to thrust into you, enjoying the way your body responds to him.

Jeonghan would be startled, his playful demeanor instantly replaced with concern as he feels you stop breathing. he’d pause immediately, his eyes searching your face for any signs of distress. "baby, breathe for me," he’d urge softly, his fingers brushing your hair back from your forehead.

the moment you start breathing again, he’d let out a relieved sigh. he slows down just enough to prolong your pleasure, whispering dirty praises in your ear about how beautifully you cum for him.

Joshua would be immediately alarmed, panicking as he realizes you’re not breathing. "oh my god, are you okay?" he’d ask frantically, shaking you gently until you start breathing again.

when you reach your climax and exhale deeply, he smiles softly. "that's it, beautiful," he murmurs, his hands soothingly rubbing your sides. "you did so well, just keep breathing."

''please don’t do that again."

Jun's brow furrows in concern when he notices you tensing and not breathing. "are you okay? don't forget to breathe," he says softly, his hands caressing your sides. "I'm here, just relax and let it go."

when you cum and release your breath, he lets out a relieved laugh. "there you are," he whispers, pressing kisses along your neck. "you did amazing, baby. just relax now."

Hoshi "hey, love, are you okay? please breathe," he’d say frantically. Hoshi’s heart skipped a beat when he saw you stop breathing momentarily during your orgasm. his movements became more controlled, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

as you finally came, your body trembling in response, Hoshi let out a soft, encouraging moan. “fuck, you’re amazing,” he kept his movements gentle but firm, prolonging your pleasure and ensuring you felt every wave of your orgasm. “that’s it, mhmm” he encouraged, his voice soothing and filled with admiration.

Wonwoo notices your body’s reactions with a keen eye, fascinated by the way you stop breathing and tense up as you get closer to orgasm. he slows his pace just enough to tease you, "just relax, I'm here with you." "gonna' cum for me just like the good girl your are? hm"

he smiles in relief, when you cum around his cock "there you go, love..." he whispers, his hands gently rubbing your back.

Woozi ''hey, don't hold your breath like that," he almost scolds, voice laced with concern. he cups your face, making sure you focus on him. "It's okay, just breathe with me."

As you cum, he breathes a sigh of relief along with you. "that's it, you're okay," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Minghao, from the moment you start to fuck, Minghao is attuned to every detail of your reactions. his gentle but firm touch is designed to keep you grounded. as you get closer to your climax, you forget his earlier instructions and starts tensing up. your breath catches, and you can feel your body tightening.

"breathe," he commands, his voice dominating. when you cry out, overwhelmed by the intensity, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "shh, shh, breathe," he repeats, his tone brooking no argument. "you did so well."

Mingyu's eyes widened when he realized you had stopped breathing in the throes of your orgasm. his large hands stroking your sides soothingly. “hey, hey, breathe for me,” he coaxed, his voice gentle yet firm.

when you finally reached your climax, and he felt the gush of liquid from your squirting, Mingyu couldn’t contain his excitement. “holy shit,” he muttered, a wide grin spreading across his face. he watched in awe as you rode out your orgasm, his hands steadying you.

Seokmin’s eyes widen with concern as he notices you slipping into a trance-like state, your breath catching and body tensing up. "Y/N-nie?" he slows his pace momentarily, trying to gauge your reaction. ''breathe, baby, come on,"

realizing you need a sharp jolt to snap out of it, Seokmin thrusts sharply into you, forcing your body to react. the sudden movement makes you gasp, drawing in a much-needed breath. as you exhale, the tension in your body releases, and you cream around his cock, the orgasm hitting you. "good girl..." he continues to move, more gently now. "I’ve got you."

Seungkwan "baby, you gotta breathe for me," he decides to stimulate you more, hoping to get a reaction. one hand moves to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles while his mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking and licking it. "come on, beautiful, I need to hear you," he murmurs against your skin.

feeling your body react to the extra stimulation, Seungkwan continues, his touch becoming more insistent. "breathe, baby, breathe" he repeats, his fingers working your clit faster. your body jerks, a gasp escaping your lips as you finally take in a breath. he grins, knowing he's got you back.

Vernon immediately senses something is wrong so he stops thrusting into you, "are you okay?"

you whine, frustrated by the sudden pause, and manage to gasp "keep going." you start to breathe again, your chest rising and falling more steadily. Vernon grins, relieved but still cautious. "alright, but you gotta keep breathing, okay?"

he moves slowly at first, making sure you’re breathing steadily. once he's satisfied you're alright, he picks up the pace. "you gonna cum for me, baby? just like that, keep breathing,"

the pleasure builds quickly, and with Vernon’s attentive eyes on you, you feel safe to let go. your body tenses again, but this time, you remember to breathe. "fuck, that's it, baby." Vernon groans, feeling you clench around him.

Dino sharp instincts kick in, and he knows he needs to keep you breathing. without slowing his thrusts, he bites down gently on your neck and tugs at your hair, the sudden sensations pulling you back from the edge just enough. "breathe, baby, yes, breathe" he growls into your ear, his voice low and commanding.

the mix of pain and pleasure forces a gasp out of you, and you start to breathe again, albeit shakily. Chan doesn't let up, his thrusts relentless as he works to bring you to your peak. "that's it, keep breathing," he encourages, his tone firm. "I want you to scream my name when you cum." he pulls his face away from your neck, his eyes locking onto yours.

as you come down from your high, Chan slows his movements, his hands still holding you close. he scolds you gently, "you need to remember to breathe, okay? I want to feel you cum properly without scaring me like that."

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nishloves · 9 months ago

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how they eat you out? seventeen

svt x fem!reader // svt imagines // words : 480 // warnings : mature (18+), oral (f! receiving), pet names, boundation (not exaggerated), slight degradation, praises, vivid descriptions

minors dni!

seungcheol, joshua, woozi, dokyeom

their tongues lapping at your juices as your restrained wrists are pinned above your head, their tongue lolling out and flicking your clit, teeth grazing your plush folds softly. their mouth is working overtime, going on with a pace that just seems too unfair as they part your thighs more and more, using one of their hands to gently explore your skin, stimulating your throbbing pussy as they stop for a second, looking at you, observing your quivering heat which spasms around their mouth. gentle kisses litter your skin as they give you a slight respite, but not even wasting a single second after you're done. they do this less, but they do this enough (and sooo deliciously good) that you don't beg like a bitch in heat.

for dokyeom ~ he's softer and also moans alongside you <3

jeonghan, wonwoo, the8, vernon, seungkwan

long fingers parting your folds as their lips suck at your clit. their tongue dancing lazily over your slit as their noses repeatedly rub against the bundle of your nerves. they are slow, sensuous, lazy— probably because they still haven't had any breakfast (you're their breakfast). their eyes look up at you as you're moaning and slowly but surely their speed starts increasing. seeing you have fun and moan in pleasure is just soooo stimulating for them. they can't wait for you to return the favour back, and this just gives them more fervour to eat you out.

jun, hoshi, mingyu, dino

rabid pussy eaters who love to bury their faces in your heat at any chance they can get. fingers, tongue, lips— all of them work together to make you spasm around their digits, making it a competition with themselves on how fast they can make you cum. it's messy, it's sensual— but so fast that you sometimes can't even make out what's happening to you before you're cumming in their mouths. their plush lips gently kiss your folds, sucking your pussy lips as their noses brush against your clit, while one of their fingers gently stretch you. you're in for a long long night.

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diamonddaze01 · 3 months ago

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PEDAL TO THE METAL (series masterlist)

🏁 IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! 🏁

Welcome to the world of F1, where the cars go fast, the stakes go higher, and the drama never lifts off the throttle. Seventeen rules the grid—from precision strategies to podium glory. Whether it’s navigating a hairpin turn or a tricky love confession, the tension is always at maximum revs. So tighten your harness and adjust your visors—this isn’t just a race; it’s the ride of a lifetime.

🏁 N O T E S : this has been in the works for far too long, and i owe it to @ylangelegy for yanking it out of my head and putting it on paper. i hope you love my magnum opus as much as i love writing it <3 without further ado, welcome to pedal to the metal !

🏎️ in the cockpit: ferrari driver!jeonghan x journalist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic HERE (part i) and HERE (part ii) 🚥 sprint results: [on the record] [off the record] [bad for business]

📝 post race analysis: jeonghan's not used to someone who pushes his buttons as easily as you do, and you're not used to someone who challenges you as quickly as he does. maybe it's time to go full throttle, both on and off the track.

🏎️ in the cockpit: ferrari driver!soonyoung x publicist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: a ferrari driver who loathes media day, a publicist who’s one press conference away from losing it, and enough tension to power the entire grid—because apparently, managing his PR disasters isn’t in the job description for falling for him.

🏎️ in the cockpit: mclaren driver!mingyu x strategist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: when the fastest driver on the grid has a habit of ignoring orders and the loudest strategist in the paddock has zero patience for his antics, the result isn't what everyone expects. but one thing's for sure: everyone hears the team radio.

🏎️ in the cockpit: aston martin driver!seokmin x f1 vlogger!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: for the first time in his life, seokmin realizes he wants something he can’t just reach out and take.

🏎️ in the cockpit: williams driver! hansol x engineer! reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: There were a million things you expected on your first day at Williams, but a driver waiting for you at your desk with a napkin sketch in hand was not one of them.

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junkissed · 5 months ago

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goodnight n go

★ | member — fwb!vernon x f reader ★ | genre — smut, angst, non-idol au, happy ending, fwb to lovers ★ | word count — 10.2k

★ | synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different.

★ | warnings — guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, mentions of alcohol, vernon has commitment issues (but he gets over it) ★ | smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, consensual drunk sex, car sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering, piv, making out, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk vernon (he's down baddd), some aftercare ★ | notes — thanks to @onlymingyus for always being the best and to @wonustars for proofreading !! i did not intend for this fic to be this long but i'm actually really proud of how it turned out so i hope you like it!! also i often make playlists for my fics but i never share them, but i've been listening to this one for months while i've been writing this fic so i'll link it so you can listen too. if you enjoy this fic, please reblog and let me know in the tags!! reblogs are super important to tumblr and they help motivate me to keep writing more like this :)

check out the playlist! featuring — goodnight n go - ariana grande ; black eye - vernon ; uh oh - tate mcrae ; sunset - caroline polachek ; romanticise this - james marriott ; entertainer - zayn ; & more

“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”

as usual, that’s how it starts.

you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.

you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.

at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.

you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.

he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.

every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.

hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.

he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.

he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.

he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.

hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your bra and pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.

he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.

his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.

you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.

he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.

the last half of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.

hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.

“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.

“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.

“i’ll wait with you, then.”

the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same.

sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.

no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.

finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.

maybe this time will be different.

he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week.

and you find yourself nodding.

you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.

maybe next time will be different.

this is going to be the last time, you swear.

you exhale as you stand inside the lobby of the venue, repeating the words to yourself. there’s a chill in the air tonight. the wind blows smoke in your direction from the couple standing by the door, abandoned cigarettes clutched between their fingers as they make out sloppily.

you grimace and turn away, studying the faded graffiti and half-ripped posters and advertisements that litter the walls around you. you mean it this time, seriously. the only reason you came tonight was because it’s the last time. a goodbye, of sorts.

you have to admit, you were a little shocked when hansol texted you after your weekly meet-up after practice. not only did he want to make sure you got home safe after you left, but he’d asked if you’d come to their next performance.

you stare down at your phone in your hand, rereading the texts for what feels like the thousandth time in the past few days just to make sure you haven’t imagined them. but no, there they are, bright pixels staring right back up at you from the screen.

hansol: hey just wanted to make sure you made it back home

hansol: btw we’re playing at the phoenix on saturday and i was wondering if you had plans? i wanna see you

hansol: maybe we could get dinner after or somethin if youre down idk

hansol: hoping youll be there

you’d been tempted to refuse him, out of bitterness or resentment or something else, but you can’t say you weren’t shocked by his offer. he’d suggested every once in a while that you should come see them play sometime, but it was always clear to both of you that it was out of small talk rather than genuine interest in you being there. but this time he’d said he wanted you there.

it was nice to feel wanted, for once. maybe you hadn’t been going crazy. maybe things really were different this time.

you glance at your phone once more to check the time before you slip it into your pocket, taking a deep breath as you walk through the second set of doors into the main room. you can hear the deep sound of wonwoo’s drums warming up, but the stage is obscured behind a ratty set of faded red curtains.

there’s still a few minutes before their set, but the room is already crowded with people so you push your way to the side wall near the back. you don’t really want anyone to see you here, anyway. you don’t want anyone to see that your resolve is paper-thin when it comes to hansol.

you hadn’t told him that you were coming tonight, just sending him a vague response and telling him you’d have to see if your schedule is free. even that felt too generous, after the anguish he’s put you through the past few weeks. he doesn’t need to know that you’re here, just like he doesn’t need to know the real reason you’ve been avoiding ever coming to see him play. and it’s not because you always have other plans.

you’re hoping to just watch the performance quietly from the back, then sneak out without ever having to talk to him, and text him later that you’d enjoyed it. you already knew you were going to enjoy it. you’d heard every original song, cover, and riff they’d ever played together, and at this point you could probably recite their setlist by heart. anyone could see that they were talented together, so it isn’t surprising that the venue is packed tonight. honestly, it’d be for the better if you got lost in the crowd and never saw him face to face.

the house lights suddenly fade into darkness and the crowd starts to quiet, the curtains finally pulling back to reveal the band. seungcheol stands in front of a microphone in the center of the stage, with wonwoo in the back at his drum set and mingyu to his left holding a bass guitar. and then, of course, there’s hansol.

you hate the way your gaze immediately lands on him, standing in the same position he always does, with his guitar slung around his neck by a thick red strap. the crowd starts cheering, and distantly you recognize seungcheol’s voice introducing the group, but you can’t make out any of his words.

your mind flashes back to all the nights you’ve spent sitting on a folding chair in mingyu’s garage, watching them laugh and bicker and fool around. it’s different seeing them actually on a stage for once, the metal of their instruments glinting under the harsh, colorful stage lights.

it’s not a large stage by any means, just a few feet higher than the ground and barely wide enough for all four of them to fit. but their presence is captivating, and it makes the dingy local theater seem more special than it really is. but then again, hansol makes everything seem more special than it really is.

seungcheol finishes speaking and the crowd around you lets out whoops and cheers, but you stay silent. your eyes are still stuck on hansol, watching him scan the crowd as he twists the tuning pegs on his guitar.

even from the back of the room, you can tell he’s nervous. his fingers shake just a little, in a way you know they never do because you’ve watched him tune his guitar a thousand times under the dim interior lights in his car. you watch his eyes dart around the room, squinting to see into the crowd before turning his attention back to the fretboard in his hands.

he’s not the most outgoing guy in the world, but at the same time you know he’s not the kind of person to get stage fright. something is different this time. or, maybe it’s not. you’ve never actually seen him play in front of an audience. you don’t know him as well as you think you do, you have to constantly remind yourself every time your mind starts to wander and you let yourself daydream. after all, he doesn’t know anything about you, and he doesn’t seem to care enough to learn. neither should you.

the band opens with a song you’ve heard a thousand times, then another and another, pausing after every few songs to talk to the crowd. time seems to fly by around you, but everything moves in slow motion when you're looking at hansol. you study the way his hair falls in soft brown waves around his face, his head bobbing to the rhythm as he strums his guitar. it's one thing you've always enjoyed about watching him play; he always gets so lost in the music, and it's fascinating to watch. it's clearly on the list of things he's passionate about, and even if you aren't one of those things, at least you get to see him doing something he loves.

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. you can't let yourself think like that. you're here to end things, not to reminisce. you shouldn't care if he likes music or not, that's not your problem anymore. he's not your problem anymore.

you zone out for a while, trying hard not to think about him but he's the only thing you can focus on. your eyes wander every once in a while, when you hear cheol's raspy voice in the mic or a particularly cool guitar riff from mingyu, but they always end up back at hansol.

they finish playing what you know is their last song, but the crowd is still bursting with electricity. it’s not long before everyone starts to chant, begging for one more song.

“encore?” seungcheol laughs into the mic, and flashes one of his signature dazzling smiles that sends the group of girls standing in front of you into hysterics. he glances over at hansol and nods. “mmm, yeah. i think we can do one more.”

you fold your arms over your chest. now is probably your best chance to leave. it’s not a very big venue, but from the amount of people here it’s obvious that there’ll be chaos once things are over as people start to file out. though most of them will probably be trying to fight their way to the front instead, giving wonwoo their phone numbers written on stained cocktail napkins and asking mingyu to sign their tits. but just as you’re about to start pushing your way back towards the exit, cheol’s deep voice makes you pause.

“we’re gonna play something real special tonight,” he says, making eye contact with hansol again. “something brand new, that we’ve never performed before. you guys wanna be the first to hear it?”

the room erupts into cheers again, and cheol grins. “yeah, i figured. so, i’m gonna let vernon explain this one. take it away, man.”

you stand still, arms crossed and curiosity piqued. maybe you can wait until after the last song. if this is going to be your last hurrah, then you might as well see it through til the end. just this once, and never again.

hansol clears his throat and looks out into the darkened theater. “this song is about a girl i’m in love with,” he starts. that gets a light laugh out of the crowd, a couple whistles and cheers, and he chuckles into the microphone before continuing. the words that have been brewing in your head for weeks seem to instantly melt on your tongue as his voice rings in your ears, echoing through your mind. that’s not you. that’s definitely not you.

“i hope she’s here tonight, but i wouldn’t blame her if she wasn’t. because i think i kind of fucked everything up.” he swallows, his eyes darting back and forth as he scans across the crowd, searching for something. searching for you? “so if she’s out there, i’m sorry. and i know this won’t make up for it, but i hope you like it anyway.”

the crowd cheers again, louder than they have all night, but the noise quickly dies down once hansol begins to play. the lights go dim, and the room fills with a soft melody from his guitar. the sound is unfamiliar, a song you haven’t heard before, and you realize he must’ve been working on it outside of the band’s usual practices.

even if he isn’t talking about you, the song is beautiful. his guitar seems to sing every note that plays, and you can practically see the air around him shimmering with energy. the rest of the room seems to fade away, the audience that separates you suddenly disappearing. it’s like you’re the only two people around, sitting beside him as he plays just for you.

he’s done that a few times, played you little snippets on his guitar. you can almost picture it now: it’s always right after he parks outside the bar, before you head inside together. he’ll unzip the case and pull his guitar from the backseat, positioning it on his lap. he comes up with a different reason every time; sometimes he’ll ask if the chords he’s been working on sound good together, sometimes he’ll tell you to listen to see if it needs tuning, sometimes he’ll say he just needs to practice this section a couple more times before giving up for the night and getting shitfaced with you off too many shots.

but you always see right through his flimsy excuses; obviously he’s doing it to show off, to impress you or something. but for the life of you, you’ve never been able to figure out why. why should he care about impressing you, if he doesn’t want to go any further with you?

and suddenly, as you stand in the back of the theater, watching his eyes sparkle under the lights and his fingers breeze over his guitar, looking more focused and frustrated and angry and sad and sorry than you’ve ever seen him look, now you finally have your answer.

you don’t want him to be talking about you. he shouldn’t be talking about you. you almost wish he would just be an asshole to you, give you a good reason to yell at him and cuss him out and tell him to fuck off, but he never does. sure, he’s a little dense to the not-so-subtle hints you’ve been trying to drop, but he’s always been good to you, even if it’s breaking your heart in the process. maybe you’ve been the dense one all along.

the show ends in a blur, and the lights come back on as people start to file out. there's cheers and more shouts for another encore, but it's clear the night is over. this is the part you've been dreading; even after days of convincing yourself, you're still not sure what you're going to do.

when the crowd finally clears out enough for you to move towards the stage, you can already see the group that’s formed around the members. cheol is off to one side, giving out autographs to whoever waves their napkins closest to him. mingyu’s helping wonwoo pack up his drum kit, smiling shyly at the girls calling his name and promising he’ll come back out to the lobby to meet them once he’s finished.

and then there’s hansol, looking flustered as people crowd around him, a deep blush in his cheeks as he waves his hands to try and get them to leave. you’re just far enough from his line of sight that you almost hesitate. it’s not too late to turn around. it’s not too late to leave before he can see you, to disappear from his life forever, but your heart won’t let you.

you walk a little closer to the stage, hanging back behind the crowd of people, but he sees. his face lights up with relief, and even from a few feet away you can still see his eyes soften. he tells the people to move, more firmly with his words this time, and he hops down off the stage as they part to make room for him. when it’s clear his attention is no longer on them, they grumble and walk away, talking to their friends about the show and how hot all the members are and how they’re definitely planning on coming back the next time they perform.

hansol reaches you in a couple of strides, stopping just in front of you. he stays silent for a second, his eyes roaming over you almost gratefully.

“hi,” he says finally, offering you a lopsided smile. he wipes his palms on his jeans nervously. “you came.”

you bite your lip for a second before you nod. “i did.”

“so you’re— did you— were you here for the end of the show?” he asks, trying to hide the stutter in his words. it’s cute how shy he is all of a sudden. it’s not like him to be shy like this. but then again, the only times you’ve seen him are when he’s playing with the guys or fucking your brains out while he's drunk, so it’s not like you’ve really gotten to know him. maybe he’s always been this shy and you were just too caught up in him to notice.

you know what he’s trying to say without outright saying it. obviously you were there the whole time, a fact you aren’t the proudest of, but you aren’t about to let him know that. “i heard your song,” you finally settle on, cutting straight to the point.

his face goes through about a hundred emotions in the span of a second, from surprised to happy then right back to shy again. “yeah?”

even though most of the room has cleared out by now, he starts walking as he talks, pulling you through the side door into the quieter backstage area. you follow him around the corner until you reach a private room, a wrinkled sheet of paper taped to the door with his name written in sharpie. his guitar case that you've seen so many times lies open on the floor, his backpack slumped against one wall.

“i liked it.”

he exhales in relief as he turns back around to face you, and you can almost see his whole body relax. “i'm so fucking sorry,” he says, nearly stumbling over his words with how fast he tries to get them out. “i've been really, really stupid. the way i left you the other night… i shouldn't have let you go like that. i regretted it the second you left.”

you purse your lips as you listen. you can tell he really means it, and it's getting harder and harder to stay mad at him. but you can't let him off that easy, not after how long you've been going through this.

“i just don't understand what it is you want, hansol. you treat me like— i don't know, like nothing.” you pause and chew on the inside of your cheek for a second, letting your words sink in. “and then out of the blue you beg me to come to your show, and you play this really sweet, heartfelt song, so how the hell am i supposed to take that?”

he winces, but the wounded look on his face doesn't feel as satisfying as you'd hoped it would. “i know. i'm just… i'm bad with words. i'm better at music.” he sighs. “but that's not an excuse. i didn't ever wanna make you feel like that, not on purpose. i just got scared. but i shouldn't have.”

you stand silently, waiting. clearly, there's more on his mind. he stuffs his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, shifting from one foot to the other.

“i love the way you laugh. i love the way you watch me when i'm playing and it makes me feel like the only person in the whole world. i love the way you smile when you're drunk and the way you kiss me. and it was stupid of me to ever think i didn't want that all the time.” he lifts his gaze to meet your eyes, the fear in his expression more obvious than anything you've ever seen before.

you let out a breath, your voice dropping almost to a whisper. “you should've just said that.”

“i should've,” he agrees.

you offer him a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep yourself together. this is not how you thought tonight would go. you didn't even think you'd talk to him, and if you did, you thought it would be a shouting match, screaming and cursing before angrily storming out of the venue, finally feeling vindicated after all this time. yet here you are, standing quietly in front of him and trying not to cry.

he waits for a second, trying to gauge your reaction before he continues. “you're, like, my best friend,” he says, adding a nervous little chuckle to lighten the mood. “i think about you every time i play or whenever i try to write something. it's always about you. you don't know how much i look forward to thursday practices and getting to see you.”

now it's your turn to laugh. “you literally could've just texted me and i probably would've dropped everything to be there, anytime.”

he grins, his smile a little wider this time. “yeah, i know. i tried, the other day when i invited you. that was scary as shit.”

he looks up at you again, his soft brown eyes and long eyelashes shining even under the dim flickering bulb overhead. “i'm really glad you came tonight, though. i wasn't expecting you to, but i really hoped you would.” he offers you another nervous smile. “will you let me try again?”

you don't answer right away, and the look of nervousness starts to seep back into his features. “i promise i—”

but you cut him off, pulling him in by his shoulders and pressing your lips against his. he falters for just a second but his arms immediately wrap around your waist, tilting his head to lean into the kiss, and somehow that one little action feels more natural than anything you've ever done together.

you slide your tongue against his lips, and he lets out a groan into your mouth before he pulls back to breathe. “is that a yes?”

you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes and laugh, but instead you just nod. “yes.”

you definitely didn't come here tonight expecting to get laid. in fact, the last thing you ever thought you'd do is sleep with hansol again. but all of that feels like a distant memory as you head out of the community theater together, his guitar case over his shoulder, walking hand in hand towards his car.

the routine is familiar, but nothing is the same. you're not drunk, you're not in the parking lot of a cheap bar, and you don't feel lonely anymore.

he unlocks the doors and you start to climb into the backseat, but he lets out a little noise and shakes his head, and you look up at him in confusion.

“we're going back to my place. or yours, if you want.” he reaches down to offer his hand and help you out of the car. “i said i was gonna do it right this time, didn't i?”

by the time you get back to your apartment, your stomach is in knots in the very best way. your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, and if you weren’t so on edge it would have almost made you laugh, the way hansol looks away and pretends not to notice. you're more alike than you thought, and suddenly you're overcome with a feeling of excitement. now you get to discover all these little things about him: things you didn't allow yourself to see before, things he wants to show you and tell you and share with you.

you try not to let the awkwardness seep back in, but you pause outside your bedroom door, almost as if you're waiting for hansol to tell you what to do. in just one night he's turned your life on its head, and now you're at a loss.

so he takes it as a sign and kisses you, his hands finding your waist and slowly trailing up your body until he's cupping your chin. it's different from all the other times he's kissed you. it's not just the fiery passion you're used to when you can tell he's worked up, but there's a hint of uncertainty in it, more similar to the kisses he gives you afterwards when you're trying to figure out whether to ask for a ride home or not. and then, the pieces finally settle into place and you realize he wasn't kissing you like that because he didn't want you; he was kissing you like that because he did.

you pull away and he freezes a little, and you can tell from the worried look in his eyes that he thinks he's gone too far. “relax,” you laugh softly, your forearms still resting on his shoulders.

he complies, but his eyes still dart across your face in nervousness. despite how badly he wants you, how badly he needs to prove himself to you, there's clearly still so much that needs to be discussed before you can move forward, things that've been left unsaid for far too long.

you inhale and look up into his eyes, trying to find what emotion is hidden there. “what do you want, hansol?”

“want you to be my girlfriend,” he breathes out without hesitating. if it were any other time and place you might've thought he was joking, but you can tell he's dead serious.

“i—” whatever words you had ready instantly die in your throat, not expecting such a genuine answer. “yes. but i meant, like, right now. what do you want, right now.”

his expression shifts in understanding and he grins, though it's still shy. “oh. well…” he pauses again to think. “what do you want me to do?”

you watch his eyes carefully for a moment before you reply. you've wanted him to do a lot of things. you wanted him to be better, you wanted him to be worse. you wanted him to do anything besides being stuck in this weird limbo of friend-zoned friends with benefits. but now that the choice is up to you… you don't want any of that.

“i want you to be honest,” you start softly, almost shy to say it, but you know it needs to be said. “i want you to tell me how you feel. because i can't lie, you really fucked up. i shouldn't have given you so many chances.” he winces at that, but you brush your thumb along his cheek and pull his attention back to you. “but i did. so you need to earn my trust again. and i just want you to not be so afraid anymore.”

he stays silent for a long moment before he nods, as if he's seriously considering your words. “i know,” he says finally. his voice is quieter now, barely above a whisper. “i'm sorry. you're gonna get so fucking sick of hearing me say how sorry i am, but i'm not gonna stop saying it.”

you want to laugh, but his tone is so serious that you know you shouldn't, so you keep a straight face and ask him again. “so… what do you want?”

he lets out a sigh, still holding you face in his hands. “shit, everything. but, first— i really wanna taste you. can… can i?”

you take a step backwards into the bedroom and he follows, tearing off clothes one by one in a hurry until you're both left with just underwear. with the limited space in his car you've never actually been fully naked together before, and the thought of him seeing you is both terrifying and exhilarating.

he leans you down onto the bed and you pull him down with you. he falls beside you, pausing to kiss you once more before rolling off the bed and onto his knees, holding your legs in front of him as he stares up at you.

it's the kind of image that could drive a woman mad. you didn't think he was capable of being this patient, but it seems he's full of surprises tonight. “yes,” you breathe out and finally give him an answer. your eyes are locked onto his, a silent conversation happening between you in the span of a second.

he clears his throat and slowly pries your legs apart, pulling his gaze away from your face to stare between your thighs instead.

“god, this pussy…” he groans in delight as he settles your legs over his shoulders, his gaze transfixed on the wet spot at the seat of your panties.

he slides his palms up your thighs, and for his sake you pretend not to notice the way his fingers are shaking just a little. you lift your hips to encourage him, and he slips his long fingers beneath the hem of your panties before pulling them down, taking his time to slide them off and toss them on the floor behind him.

his hands immediately come back up to your thighs, using his thumbs to press your legs apart to give him a better view.

“so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles to no one but himself. it's like he's in a trance, admiring the dripping mess between your legs like it's about to be his last meal. if he hadn't been so enthusiastic, you might've been embarrassed at the electric shiver that runs through you from his praise. but when there's a man this hot in front of you, kneeling and staring up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, it's hard to feel embarrassed for long.

he leans in and presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your clit, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the feeling. he's never been incredibly rough with you before, but he’s never been this gentle, either. he's touching you so delicately, like a statue at a museum that he's not sure yet if he's allowed to touch or not.

your reaction spurs him on, and he leans in further to flatten his tongue against your entrance and gives a long, slow lick. your hips lift automatically, trying to push him closer and add more pressure.

he curls his tongue through your folds before pulling away, his hands coming up to rest on your hip bones and hold you down. “even better than i imagined,” he groans, looking up at you from his spot on the floor, and the image of him down there makes you so dizzy that you have to lay back down against the bed again.

“more,” you whimper desperately. in the back of your mind there's a distant feeling of shyness at how demanding you're being, but you don't think twice about it. after everything he put you through, he still needs to prove himself to you, that he's not going to break your heart again. but he's doing a damn good job so far. “vernon— ah, fuck!”

“mm, anything.” he presses a kiss against the soft skin on inside of your thigh. “anything you want, baby.”

you don't even have time to process the nickname before he's diving back in, his lips wrapped around your clit as he sucks at you. you let out a strangled noise of surprise, your hand instantly flying down to hold his head.

your fingers tangle in his hair, his tongue so deep in your pussy that you're already gasping and writhing under his touch. you can't tell which one of you has been more stupid for not letting this happen sooner, because it almost seems like he's enjoying this more than you are.

the coil in your stomach already feels like it's about to burst, pent up with white-hot energy that feels hotter than the sun. it hardly takes a few more pointed laps of his tongue before you fall apart into his mouth, whimpering and groaning and begging shamelessly for him.

“you called me vernon,” he says when you finally manage to push his head away, shivering with overwhelming sensitivity. he lifts one hand to wipe at his chin, way too nonchalant after everything he just did.

you're still fighting through the haze of your orgasm but his words bring you back down to earth, and your face fills with heat. “huh? sorry, i—”

“everybody calls me vernon,” he says as he shakes his head, quickly cutting you off. he stands up and moves onto the bed, flopping down beside you. “i liked that you always called me hansol. made it feel special.”

your eyes follow his movements, still laying on your back as you catch your breath. “but…?”

he grins, and you swear there's a hint of blush in his cheeks. “but that was really sexy when you called me vernon. it sounds way cooler when it's coming from you.”

all you can do is laugh, letting your eyes close as you rest your hands on your stomach. “noted,” you giggle. “so should i do it more, then?”

he hums in thought, rolling over onto his side so that he's closer to you. “you can do whatever you want, baby.”

that nickname again. he's already started leaning in to kiss you again, but you grab his shoulders and pull him down to meet him halfway. there's a bitterness on his tongue that you'd almost forgotten about, but you're quickly reminded once you feel his hand sliding across your stomach and down back between your legs. you let out a surprised but happy moan into his mouth, one of your hands moving to the back of his head to kiss him harder.

your legs part, accepting the warmth of his palm as he gently presses it against your sensitive clit. he holds his hand there for just a moment, pausing his movements as he kisses you, eagerly swallowing the whimpers and sounds you give him in return.

after a minute he shifts his hand, carefully pressing his index and middle finger into you. you're right up at the edge again already, clenching down hard around his fingers as he sets a slow pace, pulling them out halfway before thrusting them in deeper than before. you're seeing stars, releasing a constant stream of muffled moans into his lips as he curls his fingers inside you. he follows the rhythm of your hips as you rut against his palm, letting the movement force his fingers even deeper.

his fingers are dripping with your juices, down his knuckles and pooling in his palm, but it only makes him want to fuck you even more. it's not like this is the first time he's fingered you. the guys at the auto shop down the street know him all too well, from the amount of times he's had to take his car in to get the seats cleaned. he always claims that it's because he's a messy eater, and while that's true in some ways, he knows those guys don't buy it for a fucking second.

his fingers are completely buried inside you but he never stops kissing you, breathing almost as heavily as you are. he stops thrusting his fingers and adjusts his hand once more, pressing his thumb against your clit to rub lazy circles over it.

“ver—vern— fuck, hansol!” you finally manage to pull away from his lips, nearly gasping for air as another orgasm rips through you. his other hand slides down your body and it feels like the first time you've ever been touched, his palm so warm and tender against your skin that it somehow makes your high even better. you're shaking in his arms, lips parted in a soundless moan as you clench wildly around his fingers, but he just holds you tighter against his body and keeps pressing kisses along your jaw.

his lips are wet with both spit and slick as he watches you, his eyes filled with stars. usually when you're together, in the dark backseat of his car illuminated only by the moonlight and nearby streetlamps, it's hard to make out the details. it's dark, and everything is fuzzy from both the alcohol and the late hour. but now, he's realizing how stupid he was for never letting this happen sooner. he could've ended up going his whole life without ever seeing you like this, laying completely fucked out under the soft light in your bedroom, your pupils wide and eyes watery and so, so beautiful.

he waits until you've calmed down again, leaning away to give you a little space, but your hand shoots out to grab his wrist and keep him close to you and he can't help but smile. when you open your eyes you're expecting to find a cocky smirk, to see how proud of himself he is for having you in the palm of his hand so easily, but it's not there. just that soft smile.

“now. what do you want?” he says. “i should be asking you that way more often.”

“want you inside,” you pant out. “now. please? i— i missed you.” you shouldn't have said the last part out loud, but at this point you don't care anymore. all your cards are out on the table.

his eyes widen a little at your boldness, but he bites his lip and nods. he can't lie and say he wasn't secretly hoping you'd say that, but he'd be just as happy to sit here on the floor and eat you out over and over and over again. he'd do anything you want at this point, and not just because he feels like he owes you. he does, but it's deeper than that. it's a different kind of feeling, one that makes him want to do cheesy shit like lay his jacket over puddles for you and buy an airplane to write your name in the sky.

as he starts to position himself between your legs on the bed, you watch his face. his expression is outwardly neutral, but little by little you've started to recognize the signs of his happiness. it looks good on him.

but your brain isn't content with that, not just yet. you swallow as a thought crosses your mind, and you can't push it down any longer.

“wait,” you say quietly, forcing the word out before you can reconsider. he stops immediately, his eyes searching your face for anything he can find, any sign that you've changed your mind about this.

“yeah?” he replies, his voice just as quiet, as if he's afraid to speak too loudly and break the tension of this moment.

you clear your throat as best you can manage, though it's kind of starting to get sore from how much and how loudly you've been moaning all night. “just curious,” you start, nervousness suddenly starting to creep in. but tonight is for being honest, and you can handle the truth. probably.

“before, while we were together— well, it doesn't really count as being ‘together’ but you know what i mean.” you pause again, chewing your lip. “did you ever… y'know. was there ever anybody else?”

hansol exhales, still hovering over you. “no. unless you count lotion and my hand, ‘cause there was a lot of that.” your eyes soften and you visibly relax at his words, and he mentally kicks himself for ever making you even think that was the case. that there would ever be anyone else for him but you. “i know i was stupid, but i'm not that stupid.”

“okay.” you pause again, trying to figure out how to get back on track. “sorry, i just wanted to know. i don't care.”

he scoffs, but his tone is more melancholy than angry. he shifts on top of you so he can rest on his elbows, getting closer and brushing his hand over your hair. “you should care. if i had, i would've given you full permission to lay into me, cuss me out, whatever. i would've deserved it. you don't deserve that.”

“i wanted to, trust me.” you sigh. “but you're too nice to me. i thought…” you chew on your lip, eyes searching his as you try to figure out what to say. “…i don't know what i was thinking.”

“i don't think i'm anywhere near ‘too nice’,” hansol laughs. the sincerity in his expression almost makes you feel better. “i'm the luckiest dude on the planet that you didn't decide to, like, slash the tires on my car and egg my house or something instead. i really wouldn't have blamed you if you did.”

“maybe i should then, next time,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face.

he shakes his head. “there won't be a next time.”

the room goes quiet and you stare at each other for a second, letting his words sink in. you can tell he's being lighthearted, but he's not even trying to hide the sincerity behind his words.

“you can… continue now,” you say after a tense moment, breaking the silence. the tension in the room is thick but it's not uncomfortable, slowly but surely melting into a lust that's deeper than any of the times you've been drunk and horny in his car.

he nods, and he reaches down to brush your hair back behind your ear before his hands slide down your body. he seems so hesitant to let go of you, but finally he lifts one hand to grip his cock and position himself at your entrance. he braces his other hand against your hip, shivering as he brushes the tip of his cock up through your folds. fuck, he's not gonna last.

after steeling his nerves as best he can and trying to convince himself not to bust the second he's inside you, he angles himself between your legs and starts to push in.

by some miracle he manages not to cum immediately, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think about literally anything else but how fucking beautiful you are lying beneath him, but what actually happens instead might be worse.

hansol groans once he's fully inside, slowly splitting you open bit by bit until he bottoms out with his hips flush against yours. there are so many words on his tongue begging to spill out, but he can't think straight. holy shit, he can't even think about anything right now. why did he never say anything sooner? why did he waste so much time content with putting in the least amount of effort when he could've been having you like this all along?

“i love you,” he blurts out, and for a split second you think maybe this is all a dream and somehow you passed out at the show and hit your head so hard you started hallucinating this. but then his eyes widen and he winces in that way you've started to recognize, and you almost laugh because now you know it's real.

“shit, i don't know why i said that. i'm sorry. fuck, i'm sorry,” he groans and hangs his head, but despite his embarrassment you can still feel every inch of his dick twitching inside you and it feels way too good to ignore. “you don't have to say it back. i know it's way too soon—”

“did you mean it?”

“what?”

“did you mean it?” you repeat. his attention pulls back to you, a confused yet hopeful look in his eyes that makes your heart warm.

he clears his throat, obviously trying to hide the pink spreading across his cheeks. “yeah. i think i did. and not just because you have the best pussy ever.”

“are you sure? because that's what it sounds like to me,” you tease and try to roll your eyes, but his words make you clench involuntarily around him and he curses under his breath.

“fuck— yes, i’m very sure, i meant it and i'll keep saying it forever if you'll let me.” he lets out a groan, both hands now firmly planted on your waist. “but, god, please let me fuck you now. i'm trying so goddamn hard to hold back and i'll gladly go for another round later but i'm trying to make it up to you right now and it's gonna completely ruin it if i cum in, like, five seconds.”

you can't help your laughter in that moment so all you can do is nod, lifting your hips a little to try and get him going. and he takes the hint, pulling halfway out of you before slamming back in, a loud, deep string of groans leaving his lips.

his pace starts out frantic but he quickly calms himself down, stabilizing himself through his grip on your waist and pulling you to meet his thrusts. he snaps his hips into you at a smooth pace, his cock dragging against your walls with each stroke in a way that has you clawing at his wrists for support as he holds onto you.

hansol may be bad at relationships, but he's never been bad at sex. even on a good day it really doesn't take much to have you seeing stars, but this is different. this is desperate, determined, thankful, and hopeful all wrapped into one movement, sliding in and out of you with a passion you've only ever seen when he's playing guitar.

“ha— ngh— hansol!” despite your efforts to keep it steady, your voice still comes out broken, his name escaping your lips as easily as breathing. you roll your head back against the pillow, and you're suddenly even more grateful that you're at home in your bed instead of alone in a parking lot. this is so much better, better than you could've dreamed.

“fuck, you always take my cock so good,” hansol groans as he leans forward and buries his face in your chest. “i should’ve been telling you that every single time, how good you are. so fucking good.”

the way he fucks you is strangely tender, in a way you're not sure you've ever felt before. it's rough, but somehow in a gentle way. he's taking you apart piece by piece and putting you back together with his hands, his kisses, his touch. none of the times before have ever come close to this.

maybe it's the feeling of a mattress beneath your back instead of a hard plastic seat, or maybe it's the promises hanging in the air between you that makes this time feel brand new. maybe you're just too caught up in the moment to think straight, but for the first time it finally feels like a fresh start. this time is different.

“baby, please, one more for me,” he moans into your skin as his hips begin to grow weary, his breath hot against your chest. “‘m not gonna last much longer— fuck, cum for me one more time, baby. god, you're so perfect. please, let me make you cum.”

at this point he's rambling, almost as far gone as you are, but it's like he doesn't even need to ask. as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel the familiar sensation starting to build again, burning hotter and quicker than before. you almost start to panic because you can't even tell if you have another one left in you, but you look up and meet his eyes one last time and suddenly a wave of calm washes over you at the sight of his soft brown eyes filled with way more love than you're expecting to find there.

you don't even have time to tell him when it hits you one more time, you just grab him and hang on tight as your high tears through you. you struggle to lift your legs and wrap them around his back, pulling him in even closer to you as your walls flutter uncontrollably around him. he invades your senses and you can feel him everywhere, and you can only hope he feels the way you do.

but it's obvious that he does, because “ah, shit—” is the last thing you hear before he pulls out, barely managing to get back in time before he spills all over your stomach, your thighs, your pussy, the sheets. it's everywhere, and neither of you care. his hands are still on you gripping your waist tightly like he can't bear to let go, his cock pulsing limply as it rests against your stomach. rope after rope of thick white floods over your skin, and yet it's like he barely even notices because he's so busy repeating your name, praising you again and again in between swears and shaky moans.

you're panting, your hands shaking as you reach for him, but he's already right there. he's breathing heavily himself as he drops down on the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in the crook of your neck.

his weight half leaning against you is grounding, and eventually you feel your heart starting to return to normal as you become aware of the sticky puddle of sweat and cum that you're both laying in. but you just close your eyes and rest, focusing on his body warmth and his palm holding your side and the tickle of air coming from his nose as he breathes against you, and you realize nothing, no feeling in the world, has ever felt better than this.

when he reluctantly pulls himself away from your body to go look for a towel, you already know there's no question about whether or not he's staying over tonight.

once he's done cleaning you off he lifts you up into his arms, laughing and nuzzling his nose into your neck as he sets you down at your desk chair to start stripping the mess of sheets off your bed, and in that moment you can't help but think how lucky you are. he keeps saying that he's the lucky one for letting him have a second chance, but you're lucky in a lot of ways, too. lucky that it turned out he wasn't as much of an idiot as you’d thought. lucky that your heart wouldn't let you give up on him, no matter how hard you tried. lucky that after everything, hope still works sometimes.

after stumbling around your room, tossing blankets and sheets around and looking the happiest you've ever seen him, you're finally settled down together and you're back where you've always belonged, laying in his arms. it's so late that the sun is probably coming up soon and you're exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of a night, but you couldn't care less about what happens next because everything finally feels right.

hansol sighs, his arm curled a little awkwardly around your shoulders as he twirls a lock of your hair between his fingers. “can… we not do this anymore?” he asks finally.

his voice is quiet; not shy or uncertain, just quiet. it's different than what you're used to with him. usually when you're around him everything is loud, it's fast and messy and jumbled, a whirlwind of a night followed by heartache and a pounding headache in the morning. but now he's just… quiet. all the thoughts that normally rush through your head are gone, leaving nothing but silence.

you swallow, confused. although you've already talked out all your worries, you can't help the uncertain feeling that starts to return. “what do you mean? like, right now?”

he exhales like he's thinking, and his fingers pause in your hair. “like… i don't know. i want things to be good between us. whatever we were doing before— anything but that. no more not talking about stuff. no more tension. y'know? i promise.”

“mmm.” you hum, letting his words sink in for a while. you drum your fingers absently against his chest, almost trying to make sure he's still there. “yeah. i think… i think things are good between us now.” you giggle, leaning your head against his chest. “as long as you don't pull that shit again.”

he laughs, reaching up to grab your hand off his chest and hold it there. “oh, yeah, i know. you're way too good to me for even giving me another chance. i'm so sorry i almost fucked it all up.”

“you don't have to say that anymore.”

“well like i said, babe, i'm going to—”

“you can just keep saying ‘i love you’ instead.” you interrupt, squeezing his hand in yours.

he stops short in the middle of his sentence, caught in surprise, but as soon as your words register a grin slowly begins to make its way across his face. “cool. then… i love you.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please reblog or leave a comment or an ask! it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! i put a lot of time, love, and effort into writing this, so feedback is really appreciated :) thanks for reading!!

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dottieisdotting · 6 months ago

Text

TREAT ME LIKE A SLUT - SVT- hip hop unit

requested?: no

pairing(s): HHU unit x AFAB!reader

Genre: smut (MDNI)

warning(s): fivesome,dom/sub dynamics, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), blindfolded reader,bondage,use of butt plug,vibrators,dildos, deep throating, spitting (fem!rec), overstim, degradation (slut, whore,cockslut, cumslut),praise (good girl, sweetheart, sweet girl,gorgeous),squirting,Dacryphilia,clit stimulation,nipple play,hair pulling, oral (m&f!rec), creampie, size kink, slight choking (fem!rec - on Gyu’s behalf),spanking, masturbation, begging (fem)

Summary:you always had a fantasy of your boyfriend (Wonwoo) and the rest of his unit to treat you like a slut

word count: 4k (give or take a little more)

A/N: so, I don't know what possessed me to write this but I've been thinking about it for a couple weeks, debating and whatnot. So go finally have this up and published feels relieving and i hope you all enjoy just this smutty mess for the hip hop unit xoxo – Eva

To say your sex life with Wonwoo was vanilla would be a complete lie. In the years of dating him, you have explored just about everything that you've been interested in but one thing that you guys have never done was invite another person into the bedroom.

It wasn’t that you weren't into the idea or anything but sex with Wonwoo was struck out of random places and times. To invite another person it would take time and commitment and both of you to agree on the said person who you’d fuck. So when you slyly mentioned that you wouldn't mind being treated like a slut by Wonwoo and the rest of his unit, he was delighted and secretly started to plan the long night out.

He got Vernon’s, Mingyu and Seungcheol schedules and figured out a day when they all got off together at the same time. He texted you that they were gonna come around for a couple hours. You were completely fine with it because they would normally come around too when they left work together.

You wait until they get there and welcome them all accordingly as they all trudge into the living room and take a seat on either the chairs or couch. You sit on the end tucked up to Wonwoo’s side as you listen to the conversation and sometimes talk. Wonwoo mindlessly strokes your side as a sign of love but you couldn't help but feel aroused. He looked so manly with his fit and hair styled like that, and the pièce de résistance, the glasses that sat on his face so perfectly. God, you could've cum right there and then but you had dignity and (some) self-control.

You look over to Vernon, his black hair, small comforting smile and casual outfit, Mingyu and his bulging muscles and puppy eyed expression and then the leader, Seungcheol and his lazy eyes and small smirk. It made you needy but you were able to control it - for now.

Wonwoo looked at you and saw your flushed cheeks and ears and how tightly your legs were clenched together. He smirked, reaching his hand to your thigh and rubbing it gently, showing no motive for sex but you knew he was only teasing ”Wonu” you whisper and he hums to you already knowing what you were going to say ”need you, Wonwoo”, the words coming from your mouth set a spark of fire through Wonwoo’s body and he groans softly, shifting in his seat as he feels himself becoming hard.

He grips your thigh tightly. His other hand leaves your side and slips under your leggings tracing your hip and down to your panties. You squirm slightly making Mingyu look over and ask if you are okay, you nod and hum as Wonwoo cups your pussy in his hand making the 3 other men look over and down at your mewl. Wonwoo smirks as he feels the slight damp patch on your panties.

He pulls his hand away and sits you on his lap, legs spread. You blush and look away, he told them about your fantasy and they were here to fulfil it. ”don't be shy, sweetheart,” you hear Mingyu say and he shifts and stands up walking to you and kneeling on the floor, in between your spread legs

Your breathing increases as you see Mingyu kneel. You thought it was a dream, him on the floor whilst you sat on your boyfriend's lap, panties soaked. ”Please” you beg, wanting something from any of the four men that were sitting in your living room. Wonwoo patted your hip and removed his hand from your panties. You stood and went to the bedroom, waiting for them to follow.

They were taking too long so you strip from your shirt and leggings leaving yourself in your bra and panties but you wanted to be fully bare so you remove your bra,letting your tits free and shimmy your panties down. You were now completely naked except the buttplug in your ass, courtesy of Wonwoo and his schemes.

You were soaking and no one seemed to be coming to you so you decided to grab a dildo from where they were kept and some lube. It was an average purple silicone dildo, not massively long and girthy but enough to get you to your orgasm when Wonwoo wasn't at home. You uncap the lube and put some on the dildo, letting it coat it. You sit on your knees and position it so you could just slide down it and so you did. Inch by inch you move slowly down the toy until you are at its hilt. You moan, not caring how loud, as you get used to it.

You lift yourself and move back down, hearing yourself and seeing yourself through the mirror that was on the wall in front of your bed. You keep moving, switching from rolling your hips to bouncing as you feel your stomach tighten, you were already close because you were so worked up. You moan out and cry out a different name every time making sure you were loud enough for everyone to hear. You shut your eyes and keep your mouth open letting all the noises fly out from expletives to whines and whimpers.

Your orgasm ripples through you,leaving you heaving and breathless. You open your eyes and see four pairs of eyes staring at you, you instantly blush and remove the dildo from inside you now covered in your cum and juices.

You hear someone tsk and walk over to the bed. It was your boyfriend, Wonwoo. ”Look at you being a naughty little slut, you couldn't wait for us, hmm? What a bad girl. Turn around, gorgeous, let me see the plug in your cute little ass” the praise and degradation in his words make you mewl and follow his instructions. You turned around so you were facing the wall on your knees. You lean down so you are face down ass up and wait ‘patiently’ for your decided punishment. You knew it was spanking but you didn’t know how many you’d receive. There were four of them after all.

Suddenly a hand comes down, hard, on your left ass cheek making you jolt forward and yelp. You look back and see Mingyu ready to bring his hand down again. You close your eyes and wait for the impact. It comes down again. Seungcheol says ”Be a sweet girl and take the punishment, yeah? 5 from each of us to learn your lesson” you whimper in response whilst, for the third time, Mingyu’s hand smacks your arse. He lays his last two on your left cheek and switches with Vernon.

He spreads your legs a little more so he could see your glistening pussy, juices leaking out. You whimper and look behind you. Vernon’s eyes were only looking at your pussy, almost admiring it. He lifts his hand and leaves a small smack on your pussy. You jolt with that. You’d never had your pussy slapped before but it felt oddly nice? For some reason you wanted it again so Vernon did it again, directly on your clit another 4 times, quick and easy.

You were half way through your (possible) neverending punishment. Your left arse cheek was hurting and your pussy was soaking and needy. Next up was Wonwoo who was also quick with his punishment,leaving your right arse cheek red too. You felt overwhelmed in pleasure and you couldn't get enough, you needed more, so much more. Seungcheol was the final one and you were quite scared for his turn.

He sees the slight fear in your face and leans down to press a kiss on each ass cheek and clit before bringing his hand down twice on each cheek then his final on your clit making you flinch hard and fall onto the bed. You were a trembling mess who was fighting for a release.

”poor little whore, can’t even deal with one spanking” you shake your head in protest. ”I can, I can, I swear!” you turn around and look at them all. They were all sporting either semis or full hard-ons. To know that you made them like this through only spanking you felt a little bit of pride with a shitload of smugness. You bite your lip and get off the bed and kneel in front of Wonwoo,looking up at him with your pretty doe eyed look.

He looks down at you,reaching out to caress your cheek softly. You reach up to his belt and unbuckle it,pulling it off, undoing his pants and pulling them down and off. He was left in his boxers, bulge noticeable in his CK briefs. You were practically salivating for his cock whilst the other three stood/ sat, cocks aching for your mouth,hands, pussy. They all needed you so badly but you were going to please Wonu first.

You pull his boxers down, cock being freed as you wrap your hands around it. You hear his breathing increase as you look up, moving your hands and kitten licking the leaking tip. You take the tip in your mouth and suck it softly, teasing him with your tongue. A hand comes down to the back of your head, carding through it before pushing your head down to take his cock further down your throat. You gag and Vernon looks worried but Wonu brushes it off ”she’s a little cockslut, loves to gag on my dick, don't you gorgeous?”

You moan around him and bob your head, up and down, up and down continuously. You cup his balls and remove his dick from your mouth, going down to suck his balls and jerk him off. Wonwoo groans and moans as you work your mouth all over his cock and balls. His hand tightens in your hair and bucks his hips forward ”gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours, sweet girl, take all of it and you can have the other cocks” you get back to bobbing your head, licking and swirling your wet appendage all over his length.

Wonwoo gets all whiny and whimpery when he gets close and with a few firm sucks on the tip, his cum was coating your throat, thick ropes eloping down your oesophagus. You didn't stop moving your head until he was pulling your mouth off of him from oversensitivity.

You pull off him with an audible pop and swallow thickly,looking up and Wonwoo with your watery eyes.He strokes your cheek and tells Seungcheol to lie down and for you to climb on his face. Your sopping pussy was now in direct contact with Seungcheol’s mouth as he licks and sucks softly at your clit making you moan and roll your hips.

You look up and notice Vernon and Mingyu at the foot of the bed with their cocks out, hard and ready. You take both of them in your hands and jerk them off. You keep your hips going, Seungcheol’s nose bumping your clit as he eats you out like a starved man. You tighten your hands and move them quicker,leaning forward to suck and lick Mingyu and Vernon’s tips one at a time. The scene was already filthy and the night has not properly started yet. If this was the starter, you were in for a fucking treat all through tonight.

”Cheollie, m’gonna cum!” you moan as you feel your orgasm start to build. It started at your toes and top of the head, compressing down to your stomach, feeling like you needed to pee. You knew you were gonna squirt, the telltale signs so obvious to you now that Wonu had made you do it so many times in the past. ”oh shit,shit, shit” you moan out loud as your liquid squirts into Seungcheol’s mouth, down his chin soaking his shoulders. You throw your head back. Your chest heaves as Seungcheol moves you off of his, now soaking, face so you could continue pleasuring Vernon and Mingyu.

You tease them by licking their tips. They were desperate for a release and so they came. Mingyu was louder than Vernon, moaning and groaning as you jerked him off through his orgasm whispering sweet things such as; ”so good for coming all over me. I love it Gyu, more, gimme more” Vernon on the other hand was quiet but he bucked his hips to get over the afterwaves of his orgasm. You release their cocks from your hands and go lay down, waiting for what is coming next.

Wonwoo walks over and ties a black, silk blindfold over your eyes. Next was Vernon with a belt ”hand to your front, sweetheart” and so you follow, hands on your stomach as Vernon ties them together in a makeshift handcuff situation. ”My sweet girl, are you gonna let us fuck you now, all of us in your tight little pussy? Can you take all of us, gorgeous? Let us fill you nice and full like the little cumslut you are” you nod your head and respond verbally. ”yes, i'll be your cumslut, i'll take it all like a good little cockslut”. You couldn't see but you knew all of them were smirking at your obedience just for some cock, you were desperate and aching to be filled up, to be taken and used by 4 hot men.

Someone pulled you so your legs were dangling off the bed, a pillow got situated under your hips and small kisses were left down your body. You giggle at the softness and hear Mingyu’s chuckle. You spread your legs further as one of them ends up on Gyu’s shoulder and he jerks himself,lining his cock up with your sopping needy little hole. He slowly pushes in, feeling your gummy walls stretch to his size

You moan at the intrusion. You try your hardest not to clench as he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust before he begins to move. Mingyu pulls out just until his tip is inside you then slams his hips forward quickly, making your body jolt. He holds your legs to his chest,together so you’d be more tight for him. His pace is relentless,hard and fast, not slowing down and putting his thumb on your clit rubbing small figure 8’s on it,driving you mad already like you didn't have another 3 cocks to take tonight.

”Gyu, so good, you're so deep and’ i’m so full” your eyes were half shut, pupils blown out with pleasure as you get fucked raw by Mingyu. He was loving every second of it too. Your soft walls are practically suffocating his fat cock, wanting to be milked dry by you. He moans, not shameful but very vocal on how good your pussy was. He kisses your calf as he moves your legs so you are folded in half as he speeds up more (if that was possible). He moves his hands to hold your legs to keep you folded.

Your orgasm was coming quickly as you moaned as loud as you wanted. You couldn't see anything but you felt the tears running down your soft cheeks. Nails indenting your palms as your breathing irregular as your impending orgasm makes your body tingle ”Gyu, please, please. M’gonna cum!” he hums and mumbles (in the jumbled moans coming from him) that he was getting close too.

He lets your legs go and they fall back down onto the bed as you try to move your hips in time with the brutal pace Mingyu had set for you since you were so desperate for cock. ”gonna take it all for me, huh? Be a good little cumdump for me, nice and deep. Fill you till your stomach is full, sweetheart” Mingyu yet again praises and degrades you just how you like it and it makes you continuously clench until you reach your peak and come around his cock.

You moan, whimper and whine and lift your hips, as Mingyu comes too, filling your pussy with white ropes of his come. You loved it, the feeling of being helpless, bound and blinded for your boyfriend and friends to use. You felt dirty, whore-like but it's what you wanted. Mingyu eventually pulls out of you, a string of his and your cum leaking out onto the sheets below, like you cared.

He leans down, kissing you softly and praising you for taking his cock so well and how wonderful you felt. His words brought you a splash of pride and you thank him quietly. The blindfold gets removed and you see Vernon as soon as it was lifted ”Nonie” you whisper and he strokes your head, peppering your face with small kisses. He answers to the nickname and undoes the belt on your wrists, kissing the slightly reddened marks. ”Need you to roll onto your stomach, sweet girl,” you nod and do just that, adjusting the pillow but Vernon removes it and lifts your hips ”ass up, gorgeous”

You leave your ass up and feel Vernon get behind you tying the blindfold once again before he lines up quickly not wanting to waste his time to have you to himself. He slowly pushes in and lets out a small huff as he bottoms out feeling immense pleasure already unmoving. He lets you get used to it, not wanting to go fast and bring you to the limit right away, he wanted to go slow and drag it out as much as he could before he came.

”Move, Nonie, you can move” Vernon pulls out slowly to slide right back in, finding a slow pace, deep strokes making you feel every inch of him. You whimper every time his tip kisses your g-spot. You struggle to keep your hips still so you claw the sheets below you. ”mm, feels good” his deep, slow strokes were bringing you to ecstacy

It was a lot different from Mingyu's but you didn't mind one bit in fact you loved this after the rough relentless pace You endured. Vernon kept this way the entire time it took you to reach your peak, his hand reaching under to rub your clit making your orgasm more intense,longer lasting. Your legs quiver as your hands relax on the sheets.

Vernon pulls out,kissing down your back and rolling you over to your back and sitting you up. He unties the blindfold and the light makes your eyes squint. Your boyfriend,Wonwoo, had gotten you a drink and a little pack of Haribo cherries to bring your energy back up for him and Seungcheol, knowing you get tired quickly.

You eat them and drink half the water before you are ready again. Seungcheol sits on the bed coaxing you over to sit on his lap ”got enough energy to ride me gorgeous girl?” You look at Seungcheol, still slightly tired. You nod anyway and sit up on your knees, gently grabbing and lining his cock up with your hole. Seungcheol was long and girthy, you knew it’d be a stretch but you could cope, maybe. There was only one way to find out so you slide down his cock slowly,careful not to hurt yourself.

You had to relax yourself so you could bottom out which took some time. Finally you sat fully on Seungcheol’s cock feeling full as you looked down to see where your bodies connected. He notices and gently lifts your chin, bringing your lips closer to his so he could kiss you. Seungcheol lets you set the pace, rocking your hips,circling them before lifting up and bringing yourself back down onto him. He mostly groans quietly along with your gentle moans and mewls,speaking degrading praise into your ear,pressing kisses down your neck.

Seungcheol had one of his hands on your hip,rubbing it and the other on your tits, squeezing, sucking,licking,kissing them,showing them attention. You speed up your movements and that's when Seungcheol begins to meet his hips up to yours. He leans back so he could punch up to your tight, dewy cunt. You let your mouth stay open. You couldn't give two flying fucks if you started to drool. You already had 3 dicks including Cheol's inside of you.

”mmh, ngh” you weren't making any sense, your brain was mushed as your body moved by itself bouncing on his cock chasing another mind blowing orgasm quickly. You lean down and kiss him sloppily, not caring. You loved it, he loved it. Seungcheol started to rub your clit to bring more pleasure to your shaking body. ”ahh, ahh, oh God, yes Cheol, yes!” He smirked loving every sound from your slutty mouth.

You couldn't anymore. You lean forward still moving your hips whilst your head rested on his shoulder. At this point Seungcheol was doing all the work as you chased your release. Seungcheol was also close, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, he was panting and kissing anywhere he could reach. His tip graced your g-spot making your walls spasm and tighten around his cock milking you to your release and his.

You sit up and rock your hips to ride out your highs. You were spent and still had one more cock to go, your boyfriend's cock.you lift your hips and let Seungcheol slide out of you. Your legs felt like jello and ready to collapse at any moment. Seungcheol moved off of the bed,letting Wonwoo take his place and lay down on it. You crawl to him and lay down so your back is against his chest. He holds your legs open. You clench around nothing, letting the other 3 mens cum drip out of you.

He lines his cock to your slutty hole and sinks into you, you clench around him instantly,your cunt welcoming him back. You whimper and rest your head on his shoulder as he pumps up into you. You couldn't help but just moan out how good it felt. Wonwoo makes you hold your legs open for him as he rubs your belly and clit.

”feels so good, baby, love it. Love your cock so much” you feel his breathing in your ear. He kisses it softly and keeps his hips going. You roll your hips downwards as much and you could ”there we go, such a beautiful cumslut for us all. Want to be nice and full of all of us” you whine at his words only for him to praise you. ”gorgeous girl, took all of our cum, so well so proud of you”

Those words spurred you on to your last and most powerful orgasm, body trembling as you squirt,pushing his cock out of you. His cum leaks down his tip and around his glistening cock. Wonwoo's cum smeers onto your folds as your body shakes from the aftershock

He moves you off him and lays you on the bed. He kisses down your body,slowly soothing your shakes. He turns you on your side to remove the buttplug, you shiver and whimper but Vernon comes in clutch to kiss you to comfort.

Mingyu, now dressed with boxers, comes back with a damp towel for Wonwoo and you. Mingyu strokes your hair and kisses your forehead and cheeks repeatedly whilst Wonu cleans your thighs and pussy. You shiver and feel Seungcheol pick you up bridal style and take you to the already run bathtub due to Vernon running it.

It had a bath bomb in and rose petals. He had lit some candles making it cosy. You lay back and relax. You sip some water that was provided by your boyfriend as he joins you in the bath to soak for a while.

After nearly an hour the water turned colder and it was time to get out. Wonu wraps a towel around his waist before helping you dry off. He guides you into your shared room and dresses you in pj's. He lays you down in bed and gets in beside you, kissing you goodnight. ”did you enjoy it sweet girl”

You nod sleepily and cuddle into him closing your eyes ”I wanna do it again sometime, i love you” Wonwoo smiles and holds you close ”One day baby, but not soon, let's get you rested up. I love you”

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