#strawberry jae

[rctributions]

( @jaehyunxlee )

"Fucking - move out of the way!" June's first mistake is riding on the sidewalk - her second being taking the jankiest bike she could pull from the junkyard behind Mike's shop and convincing herself she could ride home with a bent wheel and a questionably rusted chain. Her third mistake? Knowing Jae - but it's unrelated to her current predicament. "Move! Jesus Chri-" She narrowly avoids colliding with Jae - steering right at the last possible second and instead biking into someone's perfectly maintained shrubbery. It's almost cartoonish - the way she hits the foliage, bike separating from her, wheel flying off and across the street while she splays across the ground. June lays there for a moment - body a bigger ache than before, but alive. "Leave me to die." Her tone's defeated - head lifting up for a moment before giving up and just... staying there.

[boyfiechan]

[Party Favor]

…or the one where you're just two responsible adults planning your best friends’ joint bachelor/bachelorette party—until the box of sexy party supplies arrives and things spiral wildly out of hand.

Bang Chan x Reader Notes: Friendship and glitter on genitals, I guess. Content Warnings: AFAB reader, best friends to lovers, a hell lot of kissing, mutual pining, aphrodisiac use, mentions of drinking, explicit sexual content, sexy card games, fingering, use of pet names (baby), dry humping, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, use of warming gel and sensation enhancers, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, mention of sex toys, multiple orgasms, creampie, use of handcuffs, banter during sex, chaotic horniness. [22k words]

The box sat between you on Chris’s kitchen island like some cursed artifact neither of you wanted to be the first to open. You were supposed to be working—finalizing the plans for Mina and Jae’s joint bachelor and bachelorette parties, putting the finishing touches on the schedule, talking through guest lists and food allergies and whether the Airbnb allowed glitter—but instead, you were both just standing there, staring at a giant, metallic-wrapped package that had arrived earlier that afternoon with no return address, just a handwritten note that read, Have fun. You’re welcome. -Cousin Yujin. Chris had carried it inside like it weighed a hundred pounds, half-laughing, half-grimacing as he dropped it onto the counter. She said she was sending some party supplies. I thought she meant streamers, he said, still catching his breath. Not a whole suitcase full of questionable decisions.

You didn’t open it so much as peel it apart cautiously, as if expecting it to hiss or glow or otherwise confirm your suspicion that this would be a very different kind of planning session. The first layer revealed a cascade of pink and red tissue paper, scattered with tiny heart-shaped confetti, and beneath that—chaos. A deck of cards with the words Naughty Challenge in sparkly foil, a pair of red satin blindfolds, plastic handcuffs, massage oils in a variety pack labeled Dessert Flavors. A single feather tickler. A tube of something called Arousal Gel, which you held between two fingers like it might bite. Chris leaned in beside you, lips twitching with a suppressed laugh. Is that… whipped cream flavored? he asked, peering over your shoulder. You checked. Strawberry cheesecake. He let out a low whistle. Classy.

You weren’t quite laughing yet, but the absurdity of it all had begun to settle in—this was your job now, apparently, organizing not just a party, but a themed weekend that walked the line between slightly wild and entirely too intimate. You were both trying to do right by your friends, to make sure they had a celebration they’d remember for the right reasons, and yet here you were, elbows-deep in what looked like a bachelorette party starter pack from a very risqué Etsy store. Chris picked up one of the dice, a soft, neon pink set with verbs on one and body parts on the other and rolled them idly on the counter. Kiss… neck, he read, then looked over at you with mock solemnity. Very educational.

You leaned against the island, arms crossed, watching as he turned over one item after another. He wasn’t rushing—more curious than anything, like he was cataloging evidence and here was something comfortable about it, the way you could both hover here in this liminal space between teasing and planning, between two friends who’d known each other too long to be shy but not quite long enough to ignore the tension. You think they’ll actually use this stuff? you asked, nodding at the pile. Chris shrugged. Maybe some of it. Probably not the aphrodisiac serum. He held up a little amber bottle and squinted at the label. ‘Heightens arousal. Do not exceed recommended dose.’ Sounds intense. You smirked. Bet it’s just honey and cayenne. Or snake venom, he offered. Real test of love—survive the honeymoon.

It wasn’t awkward, not exactly, but you could feel a kind of charged stillness creeping in as the initial laughter faded. The box had gone from hilarious to oddly thought-provoking, as if you were both slowly realizing you’d just been handed a pile of questions you hadn’t planned to ask each other, not explicitly, not like this. Chris nudged a card your way—Act out your partner’s fantasy—and raised a brow. Think we need to screen these before game night? he asked. Some of these are kind of… a lot.

You hesitated, then nodded. Probably smart. I mean, we can’t exactly have Jae doing body shots off his fiancée’s cousin in front of his mom. Chris grimaced, then laughed under his breath. Okay, yeah. We screen them. He paused. Should we—like—actually go through a few? Just to get a feel for what we’re working with? He wasn’t looking directly at you now, more at the cards, the bottle, the chaos you’d unearthed together, like he was trying to keep it casual, and it was casual, just curiosityl just research, two responsible people doing their due diligence. Still, the question hovered there in the space between you, quiet and warm and just a little off-center, like maybe neither of you wanted to admit you’d already been wondering the same thing.

It had always been like this with Chris, comfortable in a way that was easy to forget wasn’t necessarily normal. He was the kind of friend who snuck snacks into your tote bag at the movies and remembered the name of your high school dog even though you only mentioned it once, smart, unflinchingly reliable, a little chaotic when bored—but gorgeous in a way that still, occasionally, knocked the wind out of you when you looked too long. Which was why you didn’t, usually, at least not on purpose. He was built like someone who accidentally became a Calvin Klein model and never told anyone, all long limbs and lean muscle and that infuriating combination of soft eyes, dimples and a sharp jaw. He didn’t act like he knew it, though, walked around in perfectly clean sneakers and a identical rotation of hoodies like he wasn’t an accidental heart attack waiting to happen. You had a whole system worked out for ignoring it, finely tuned over years of close proximity and just enough inappropriately timed thoughts to make your own life difficult, and besides, it was funny, you two were funny—quick banter, loud opinions, inside jokes that made other people squint. It worked, it had always worked.

Still, there was something about tonight that felt a little off-center, not bad, just off the usual track. Maybe it was the wine you’d cracked open an hour ago, or the slow glow of sunset spilling across the kitchen, or maybe it was the undeniable weight of the box sitting open between you, full of things neither of you were really pretending to ignore anymore. You could tell Chris felt it too, not in any obvious way, but in the way his movements had slowed just a bit, more deliberate, like he was giving the moment more room to breathe.

He picked up the deck of Naughty Challenge cards and fanned them out like a magician about to do a trick. Alright, he said, tone light, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. One test round, purely for quality control. You pick. You raised an eyebrow but reached anyway, plucking a card from the center. ‘Give your partner a compliment in the sexiest voice you can manage,’ you read aloud, then looked up, unimpressed. This feels like a trap. Chris laughed. Come on. Low stakes. I’ll go first.

He cleared his throat dramatically, then turned toward you with an exaggerated smolder. Your spreadsheet skills, he said, voice dropping an octave, make me feral. You choked on your sip of wine, sputtering as you doubled over against the counter. You’re a menace. He smiled. I’m a menace with a healthy appreciation for color-coded tabs.

It was stupid. Ridiculous. The kind of joke that should’ve fallen flat but didn’t, because it was him, because he could make anything sound almost sincere, just for a second. And then he was looking at you, and you were still laughing, but the space between you had shrunk without either of you moving. Just a hair, just enough to notice.

You flipped the card around in your fingers, trying to keep your face neutral, but you could feel the warmth rising in your chest, just below the surface. Okay, you said slowly, my turn. He tilted his chin up, mock-expectant as uou licked your lips, pretending to consider your options. Your arms, you said finally, pitching your voice low and overly breathy, are very… efficient. For carrying things. And lifting boxes. Big boxes. Chris stared at you a beat, then cracked up, resting both hands on the counter as he laughed. Wow, he said, wheezing a little. Are you flirting with me or hiring me for a moving company? You shrugged. Why not both?

The laughter lingered, but the air shifted again, subtly, the way a room quiets when someone walks in. You didn’t move away, neither did he and there was something about the fact that you could both feel it, but neither of you said anything, that made it feel heavier than it should’ve. Not awkward, just aware, a pause held between jokes, like the next card might change something if you weren’t careful. Or maybe if you were.

Chris tapped the edge of the deck against the counter like he was about to deal blackjack, eyes still a little crinkled at the corners from laughing. Alright, he said, voice mock-serious, we’re on a roll. Let’s see what other emotionally devastating challenges this box has for us. He slid another card from the pile and read it with the kind of gravitas usually reserved for Oscar speeches. ‘Demonstrate your favorite sex position. Using interpretive dance.’ He blinked, you blinked and for a long second, neither of you moved. Then you both completely lost it.

Chris doubled over against the counter, forehead pressed to the cool granite like he needed divine intervention. No, he gasped. Absolutely not. I’m calling the police. You were crying laughing, hand over your mouth, barely able to breathe. This box is unhinged, you wheezed. Yujin needs to be on some kind of government watchlist. Chris nodded rapidly, still recovering. She just sent us a live grenade. This is psychological warfare.

But then, because neither of you had ever been good at letting a joke die, you straightened up, wiped your eyes, and said, Okay but hypothetically, if I did have a favorite… And before Chris could stop you, you stepped back from the counter and started miming an aggressively interpretive series of hip rotations that could only be described as deeply confusing and possibly inspired by modern jazz. I call this one ‘Anxious Cowgirl,’ you announced, waving your arms like you were on a deranged cruise ship. Chris groaned and covered his face. I’m begging you to stop. I feel like I’m going to get arrested just for witnessing this.

You’re just mad because you’re about to get outdanced, you said, pointing at him. Let’s go, best man. Show me missionary with meaning. And somehow, somehow, he did, with the stiff awkwardness of a man deeply regretting his life choices, Chris shuffled out from behind the counter and launched into something between a body roll and a mime of spiritual suffering, hands raised like he was trying to summon something holy. This is called Two Minutes Before Cramps, he said solemnly, hips moving like they were operating on a six-second delay. It’s mostly forearms and disappointment. You collapsed onto the barstool, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. Oh my god, stop. That’s actually worse than mine.”

Lies, he shot back, pointing an accusing finger. Yours looked like a Zumba class for the recently divorced.

The energy was ridiculous, you were both borderline crying, red-faced, breathless, drunk not on the wine but on the sheer absurdity of what your night had turned into, but underneath the chaos, there was that little pull again, that thing you kept pretending wasn’t there. Because every time he looked at you too long, or your arms bumped, or he laughed with that quiet, real sound that he didn’t share with everyone, something in you pinged. Nothing big, just a moment, a shift, a question that hadn’t been asked, but maybe, maybe was getting a little closer to the surface.

Still, you weren’t touching that yet, mot with a ten-foot feather tickler. So instead you leaned back, wiped your face, and said, Okay, final round. Let’s find the dumbest one in here.

Chris, ever the overachiever, picked up the instruction booklet and squinted at the fine print. There’s one called Sensory Temptation Roulette, he said slowly. You blindfold each other and take turns guessing which body part the other person is touching you with. He paused. There’s a note here about ‘only consenting players should participate,’ which feels like a red flag.

You blinked. Do you think they mean like… elbow? Nose? Or… You trailed off, eyebrows raised. Chris didn’t answer, just held your gaze for a second too long, then very calmly picked up the blindfold from the box and held it out to you.

You stared at it. Then at him.

Then back at it.

You are so lucky I’m bored.

He grinned like he’d just won something, all bright teeth and boyish smugness, the blindfold dangling from his fingers like a prize. No one’s ever said that to me in a flattering context, he said, stepping closer, enough that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne, something warm and clean and irritatingly good, and see the slight flush in his cheeks that may have been from laughter, or the wine, or maybe just the rising temperature of this whole stupid, spiraling idea. You took the blindfold slowly, holding his gaze as if you were about to sign a legally binding document, and looped it over your eyes with exaggerated care. Alright, you said, sitting up straighter on the barstool. Let the scientifically rigorous examination of sensory nonsense commence. I’m ready for my doctorate in Guess the Body Part. You heard Chris laugh softly, close now, and then the sound of him moving, the quiet shuffle of socked feet on tile, the rustle of fabric as he adjusted or considered something behind the veil of your vision.

You tried not to anticipate where the touch would land, you really did, but there was something about being blindfolded—about giving over that sliver of control to someone you trusted, who also happened to be annoyingly hot and standing much too close—that made your brain short-circuit. When it came, it was light, barely a brush at all, somewhere on your forearm, and you startled a little at the unexpected texture. Okay, you said slowly. That felt… weirdly soft. Was that your cheek?

Chris made a buzzer sound with his mouth. Incorrect. That was my chin. Very different. My cheek is much more emotionally available. You snorted, blindfold shifting slightly as you laughed. My bad, I’ll recalibrate my cheek-to-chin radar.

The next one landed on your knee, a gentle bump that felt like knuckles, maybe. Knuckle? you guessed, biting your lip. A beat. Close. Elbow. He sounded weirdly proud, like his joints were something to be admired. Bonus points for not screaming. Most people panic when approached by a stealth elbow. You smiled in spite of yourself and it was really stupid, all of it, delirious and strange and deeply unserious, but there was something oddly sweet about how carefully he was doing it. Not teasing, not pushing boundaries, just playing the way you always had, except now you were blindfolded and he was touching you, and your skin was starting to keep score.

The next touch was slower, not rough, but deliberate, the back of your shoulder, maybe, or the top of your arm—warm and solid and unmistakably him. You felt it in your spine, that little flicker of tension your body tried to dismiss as nothing, just nerves or the wine or the thousand other excuses that didn’t account for the fact that his hand lingered. Fingertips, you said, and it came out quieter than you intended. Chris didn’t answer right away, just a small pause. Then: Yeah. His voice had dropped a little, still playful, still soft, but you could hear the shift too, subtle and unspoken, like the space between a joke and the moment it stops being funny, not because anyone said so, just because the air got heavier.

He stepped back, or maybe just stilled, and you exhaled slowly. Okay, you said, lifting your hands to the blindfold, my turn. I’m ready to exact blindfolded revenge. But when you pulled it off and looked at him, Chris was already watching you. He had that same grin, but it had changed, barely, into something steadier, something with less teeth and more weight as his gaze dropped to your mouth for half a second, then snapped back up, like he caught himself mid-thought. You felt it like a tug, small, sharp, not enough to pull you in—but enough to know it was there. You held out the blindfold. Your funeral. Chris took it with a shrug, but the way he tied it on was slower now, more thoughtful, like the whole thing had become a different game.

The blindfold settled over his eyes with practiced ease, like he wasn’t blindfolding himself in the middle of his own kitchen while his best friend loomed dangerously close with vague intentions and a wildly fluctuating heart rate. Chris adjusted the knot at the back, then held out his arms in theatrical surrender. Alright. Do your worst. But just know—if I scream, it’s only because I bruise easily and have a complicated relationship with trust. You rolled your eyes, grinning despite the thrum of something slower moving beneath your skin. You’re the most dramatic man alive, you muttered, stepping closer, already scanning the possible points of contact like this was some kind of twisted impossible math question. You weren’t nervous, not exactly, but there was a new sort of buzz threading itself through your limbs now, an awareness, taut and unfamiliar, that hadn’t been part of this game until just recently. Something about seeing him standing there, all stillness and stupidly good bone structure, mouth pulled into a smirk that he probably didn’t even know was doing things to your brain that it made it a lot harder to treat this like a harmless joke.

You went for easy first, brushing the edge of your forearm lightly against his collarbone, a soft pass that made him flinch just slightly. Was that your… wrist? he guessed, head tilting in thought. Wow, you deadpanned. No. That was literally my entire arm. Do you think I’m a small bird? Chris laughed, bright and sudden, the sound echoing in the kitchen. Sorry, sorry. I got distracted. It felt… graceful. He grimmaced. You’re unbelievable, you muttered, but your voice had gone soft at the edges. You were too aware of how close you were, too tuned in to the way he was still smiling even though he couldn’t see you, the kind of smile that always made you want to nudge him just to see how much further it would go.

Next you tapped the side of his neck with the tip of your nose, because you couldn’t help yourself, because it was stupid and unexpected and you wanted to see what he’d do. He jolted like you’d electrocuted him, swore under his breath, then stood perfectly still. Okay, he said slowly. That was… something. Was that your elbow? You leaned back with a grin, the air between you now oddly charged. That was my nose, you absolute himbo.

Jesus, he whispered, laughing nervously. Why is this starting to feel like foreplay? And just like that, the breath in your lungs turned into something else. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, half of what you said to each other was, but you didn’t laugh this time. You didn’t say anything, neither did he.

For a second, the silence stretched out, not uncomfortable, just expectant. You stared at him, blindfolded and a little flushed, his mouth parted like he was waiting for your next move and for once, you didn’t second-guess it, you stepped in again, closer this time, letting the tip of your fingers trace from his wrist to the inside of his elbow in a slow, unhurried pass. His breath caught, visibly, audibly. And when you stopped, he didn’t guess, didn’t speak. Just stood there, waiting. You swallowed, your voice was quieter now, unsure but steady. You gonna guess? Chris tilted his head slightly. I don’t think I care what part that was.

The silence after that wasn’t funny, wasn’t filled with jokes or banter or pretend. It was thick with something else, something that looked a lot like choice. You could feel it rising between you, soft and slow, unspoken and undeniable, something you couldn’t unplay and still, neither of you moved.

Chris was the first to crack. He cleared his throat, untied the blindfold with a flick of his fingers that was way too casual to be real, blinking like he’d just returned from war. Okay, he said, voice an octave too bright, so that game is obviously cursed. We were one round away from accidentally getting engaged. You laughed, high and nervous, stepping back like there was a trapdoor under your feet. Yeah, no, that felt like a gateway drug to emotions. Absolutely not. You turned back toward the box, sifting through the chaos of cards and packaging and absurd neon-colored nonsense like it was a life raft. Let’s eat something weird and reset our brain chemistry.

Chris, already halfway through inspecting what looked like edible lube in a tiny foil pouch, raised an eyebrow. Do you want the one labeled body chocolate or sugar lips? Because one of these sounds like a drag queen and the other sounds like an HR violation. You snorted and grabbed the one with a sketchy cartoon strawberry on the label. Let’s go with the one that looks the least like it’ll send us to the ER.

You peeled it open, sniffed it cautiously, then gave him a look. Why does this smell like Dollar Store Nutella? Chris leaned in, took a whiff, and recoiled instantly. That’s not Nutella. That’s Nuthella. As in, you’d have to be out of your mind to eat that. Your snorted. Oh, come on, you said, scooping a fingertip’s worth and sticking it in your mouth. It can’t be that— You froze. Chewed, slowly, then made a face like you’d just been betrayed by a trusted family member. It tastes like a candle. A very sexy candle. Chris burst out laughing. Give me that, he said, grabbing his own sample with way too much enthusiasm and popped it into his mouth, immediately making a noise of profound regret. Oh no. Oh no no. Why is it spicy? He paced a tight circle like a soccer player trying to walk off an injury. It tastes like someone dipped chocolate in cologne and then lost a bet.

I think it’s supposed to ‘awaken your senses,’ you said, flipping the package over. It’s definitely awakened my gag reflex. He flopped into the stool across from you, still grimacing, and picked up one of the tiny heart-shaped mints labeled Intimint Explosion. Dare me? he asked, already unwrapping it. Absolutely not, you said, but he popped it into his mouth anyway. He blinked, paused, then his face twisted into something between alarm and existential confusion. Okay, wow. That’s… aggressive. My tongue is having a religious experience. There’s like… phases.

You were cackling now, hunched over the counter as you rummaged through the next layer of the box. Alright, you said, breathless, we need a palate cleanser before one of us has to file a report with the FDA. You pulled out a plastic contraption shaped like a miniature cactus and turned it over in your hands. What the hell is this? A novelty back scratcher? A massage tool for emotionally distant partners? Chris leaned in to inspect it. No, no, look—it has a little switch. And like… these soft spinny things? He flicked the switch and the tiny rubber nubs started twirling with an aggressive buzz that neither of you expected. You both stared. Then looked at each other. Is it… for your face? you asked slowly. Chris tilted his head. Maybe your nipples?

That’s not the same category, Chris. You said, raising an eyebrow at him. Well, I don’t know what people are into! Don’t judge my ideas. You set it down like it might explode and pulled out the next item, a tiny feather on the end of what looked like a miniature riding crop. Okay, this one’s easy. This is obviously for… uh… You trailed off, twirling it between your fingers, then looked up at him. Okay fine, what the hell is this for? Chris took it, spun it once like he was about to do a magic trick, then flicked it gently against his own arm. I think it’s supposed to be seductive, he said, eyebrows raised in concentration. But I just feel like I’m being interrogated by a fancy bird. You doubled over laughing again, nearly crying now as he fanned himself dramatically with it and said, in a horrible British accent, I demand to know the whereabouts of the Duke's underpants!

It was good like this, stupid and unhinged and exactly the right amount of unsexy, just long enough to forget the undercurrent of whatever had passed between you during that blindfolded pause. You could feel it, still, flickering at the edge of things, but right now, wrapped in laughter and candle-flavored regret, it was easy to let it wait.

The laughter eventually tapered into something breathless and warm, the kind of quiet that came after a proper, cleansing laugh, where your face hurt and your stomach ached and you felt slightly high on nothing at all. You were sprawled across one stool, chin resting on your arms, and Chris was opposite you, still fidgeting with the feathery interrogation wand like it had secrets to reveal. Between you, the box lay half-unpacked, its contents scattered in an impressive array of shapes and suspicious functions, looking more like the inventory of a very unserious wizard than anything remotely erotic.

You reached blindly and came up with a sleek little thing that looked like an alien’s idea of a slingshot. Okay, you said, turning it upside down, this one feels like it’s for clamping… something. Maybe ears? Nose? A very specific kind of grief? Chris leaned in, elbow on the counter, eyes narrowing as he took it from your hands. I think this is one of those things that either goes very right or ends your relationship in five seconds. He tested the springy arms against his fingers, winced immediately. Yup. That’s going directly into the Maybe Not pile.

You reached for a wrapped chocolate heart still floating at the bottom of the box and unwrapped it like it owed you something. Okay, but real talk, you said, chewing slowly, is it getting weirdly warm in here? Chris was already halfway through another one, despite his earlier condemnation, and looked mildly betrayed by his own decision. Yes, he said through a mouthful, and also… is your mouth buzzing? Because mine is. Like… subtly. In a way that feels both delightful and deeply concerning.

You paused, tongue pressed to the roof of your mouth. …Yes. What the hell did they put in these? Is this FDA approved? You both stared at the shiny wrapper, no ingredients listed, just the words Velvet Ecstasy in swirly gold font, like it was a flavor and not a threat. Chris squinted at it. Do you think it’s like… some kind of low-grade aphrodisiac? Because that would explain why I suddenly want to flirt with the toaster.

You snorted, shifting in your seat, only now realizing how your skin felt a little more, like your clothes were one layer too many, or the air was just a few degrees too humid. Nothing dramatic—just enough to make you cross and uncross your legs under the counter, like you were trying to resettle your own mood as Chris seemed to be feeling it too; he’d stopped toying with the feather and was now fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, a light flush blooming at the base of his neck that might’ve been from laughter, or something else.

You reached into the box again, half for distraction, half because you were starting to feel too still. Alright, what’s next? you muttered, pulling out a smooth, curved silicone object in pastel pink. You turned it over once, then twice, then just stared. Okay. No idea what this is. It looks like a spoon from the future. Chris leaned in, peering at it like it might read back to him. Is that… a tongue thing? Like, a licking simulator? His eyes widened. Is that a robot tongue? You were horrified and fascinated in equal measure. Why is it shaped like a ladle? What kind of tongue has depth?He tapped it against the counter experimentally. Maybe it’s for ice cream. Emotional support ice cream. You grinned, finally setting it down with caution. No way. That thing has main character energy. It vibrates, I promise you.

Everything in this box vibrates, he muttered, tossing aside a suspiciously shaped ring with flashing LED lights. This one looks like it’s powered by rage and the tears of failed exes. The heat was building again, subtle but steady, underneath the humor, under the dumb jokes and the silly guesses. That candy was doing something, slow and creeping, just a haze at the edges of your skin, a heightened awareness that made you notice things like how close Chris’s hands kept drifting when he leaned in to see what you were holding, how his voice had gone ever so slightly lower, more deliberate and the tension wasn’t sharp, not yet, just simmering, waiting, sitting between you like another item you hadn’t unboxed yet.

Still, you kept reaching for distraction. Okay, final item, you said, pulling out a silk ribbon with tiny loops sewn into the ends. This looks innocent. Like something from a bridal shower. Chris took it from you and raised an eyebrow. That’s a wrist restraint, he said, voice far too casual. That or a very dramatic headband. He stretched it between his hands thoughtfully. Also, very soft. That’s a plus. He toyed with it. What, are you rating these now? you teased, leaning back on your palms. Gonna start a blog? Chris’s Kink Korner?

He grinned without looking up. I mean, might as well. I’ve seen enough tonight to qualify for a part-time job at a sex museum. He met your eyes then, still playful, still amused, but lingering just a second longer than before, and suddenly you were both quiet again, not like before, but almost, a shift, just a breath deeper than the last.

Chris set the ribbon down like it might whisper something compromising if he held it too long, and then he dragged his fingers through his hair in that familiar way that always made him look effortlessly hot and vaguely distressed, like a model who’d just gotten bad news in a shampoo commercial. You watched him without meaning to—tracked the way his eyes flicked toward you and then away, the subtle clench in his jaw when he bit back a grin, the silence was friendly, mostly, but beneath it was that same low hum, the weird edge that had crept in with the candy, winding tighter every time your knees bumped or your laughter ran too long. Still, neither of you said anything about it. You just sat there, elbows on the counter, surrounded by silicone and satin and glittery wrappers, pretending you weren’t both just a little warmer than you should be.

So, he said finally, clearing his throat as he reached for another chocolate heart and inspected it with the vague suspicion of someone handling a live grenade, do we think these are actually, like, scientifically engineered? Or is this just placebo horniness? He tossed it into his mouth before you could warn him, chewing like it owed him an answer. You leaned over, one brow raised. I don’t think there’s any science involved in something called Velvet Ecstasy, Chris. That sounds like a band that opens for Boyz II Men at a Valentine’s Day concert.

He snorted, one hand over his mouth like he was trying to chew through regret. Okay, but real talk, my face is kind of tingly. Like... arousingly tingly, is that a thing? He blinked. Do you want it to be a thing? you countered, mostly to distract from the fact that your skin was buzzing too, in all the inconvenient places. Not hot, exactly, but sensitive, like your nerves had been turned up a click. You weren’t thinking about Chris touching you, not really—but you were starting to wonder what it might feel like if he did, purely for research.

I think I’m gonna sue whoever made these, he muttered, grabbing his water like it might help. Not because they’re dangerous, but because now I have questions about my body I didn’t need to have tonight. You laughed, still fiddling with the ribbon absentmindedly. Oh, come on, maybe it’s just psychosomatic. Like ghost horniness. He blinked at you. You’re not allowed to say ghost horniness in my kitchen, he said. There’s boundaries.

You held up your hands. Okay, fine. Let’s go back to identifying mystery toys. It’s safer. You leaned into the box again and pulled out something shaped like a cross between a banana and a lightsaber. It was smooth, lavender, slightly curved, and more menacing the longer you looked at it. Okay, you said, turning it in your hands. What is this and why do I feel like it knows my deepest secrets?

Chris took it from you slowly, brows lifted. I don’t know, but if this thing ever starts talking, I’m burning it. He pressed a button and it whirred to life with a low, oscillating hum that was alarming. He froze. Nope. No no. Why does it sound like it’s about to summon something? You were laughing so hard now that your stomach hurt again, that warm, sweet ache that felt like safety and something else you couldn’t quite name as you reached for the toy and turned it off before it could open a portal to hell. That’s going straight into the Oh My God pile. Chris nodded solemnly, setting it down between the feather and the spinning cactus. That pile’s getting a little too powerful.

And then, as if summoned by the room’s growing warmth or the subtle pull of that unspoken thread, he glanced over at you. Really looked, this time, not like a joke was coming, or a dare, or a one-liner. Just looked, and the moment slowed again, just briefly, not enough to be awkward, just long enough for something to flicker behind his eyes. This is kinda fun, huh? he said, voice lower now, a little more grounded. Like… I didn’t expect it to be fun. I thought it’d be weird.You tilted your head. It is weird.

Yeah, he said, grinning, but like… in a good way. You looked at the chaos around you, the melting chocolate wrappers, the haunted vibrator, the tiny cactus. And then back at him. Yeah, you said quietly. In a good way.

You didn’t mean to grab something interesting, honestly, you were just stalling, sifting through the half-empty box for the sake of momentum, for something dumb enough to laugh about again—something that didn’t taste like perfume or hum like a spaceship. But your fingers closed around a slim, rectangular box near the bottom, tucked beneath a foil packet that said Cupid’s Syrup in a font that made your stomach turn. You pulled it out, inspected the cover. Dare or Bare: A game for the emotionally unstable and mildly horny, it read in looping pink script.

You held it up. Okay, this one’s already threatening me personally. Chris leaned over, squinting. Dare or Bare? That sounds like something invented in a college dorm. He snatched the box from your hands and popped it open, rifling through the cards inside. Oh yeah. This one’s dangerous. I love it. He pulled out a random card and read aloud with mock drama: Let your partner kiss any body part of their choosing—or take a shot of tequila with Tabasco. He looked up, deadpan. Wow. Nothing like an ultimatum between physical vulnerability and gastrointestinal distress. You leaned in, intrigued now. Alright. So we’re just… doing dares or mildly stripping?

Not even mildly, he said, flipping another card. Remove one item of clothing—or let your partner ask any question and you have to answer honestly. You raised a brow. Okay, this just turned into Truth or Strip. Chris grinned, already pulling out the little spinner wheel that came with the set. Which, incidentally, is exactly the right level of emotional risk for a Wednesday night.

You both knew you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, there was just enough of that candy lingering in your bloodstream to make everything feel a little more fun than it should be, a little looser around the edges, like the world had slouched sideways and neither of you had the good sense to sit up straight. And now Chris was holding out the spinner, casual to a fault, like it wasn’t the gateway to imminent chaos, like the smooth way his thumb tapped against the plastic wasn’t betraying how eager he actually was to spin the whole night off its rails. His knee bumped against yours beneath the table, the faintest nudge, and you felt your own self-control slip another inch, your heartbeat knocking just a little faster as the room leaned into the kind of silence that always meant trouble. You exhaled, the word dragging out on the tail of your breath, Okay, okay, tugging your legs up onto the stool, folding them beneath you, settling in like you weren’t already standing at the edge of a very, very stupid decision. But we set rules.

Chris nodded, solemn in a way that barely contained the smirk threatening to pull at the corner of his mouth, his hands stretching out in a half-hearted peace offering, palms open, fingers twitching with barely concealed amusement. Obviously, he said, voice smooth, almost reasonable. No questions about exes. No dares involving bodily fluids. His gaze slid over to you, steady and sharp, waiting for you to tack on more boundaries, waiting to see just how far you’d go before you flinched. You lifted a brow, chin tilting slightly, deadpan. No removing pants. His lips twitched, and for a second you thought he might let it go, but his eyes flicked to yours, dark with that particular glint you knew too well, the one that always spelled trouble long before he ever opened his mouth. Speak for yourself, he muttered, the words low and half-swallowed, like he hadn’t meant them to slip out, but he did, and the air around you shifted, light and charged. Before you could swat at him, his fingers wrapped around the spinner and set it loose, the plastic clicking and ticking in sharp little bursts, both of you leaning in slightly, as if proximity might somehow influence fate, as if it wasn’t already too late for that.

The wheel slowed, the pointer stuttering over the final few notches before landing on a card marked with a flame, and Chris wasted no time plucking it up, turning it over in his hand with a kind of lazy confidence, the kind that always meant he was about to make things worse. His eyebrows lifted, mouth curling into something delightfully smug as he read the dare aloud. Let your partner sit in your lap for one minute — or send a risky text to the last person you slept with. His gaze drifted back to you, slow and deliberate, his eyes already laughing before his mouth had the chance to. He tilted his head, shoulders relaxing into the inevitable, and the grin that split across his face was all teeth and mischief, bright and boyish in the worst way. So. You wanna—?

Absolutely not, you snapped, reaching out before the words had even fully left your mouth, snatching the spinner from his hand, your fingers brushing his in the process, warm and steady and stupidly solid, like touching him didn’t already do enough damage on its own. His laugh was soft, a low sound that felt like the slow boil of something just beginning, and you pretended not to notice the way your pulse stumbled as you spun the wheel, watching it go around and around, the room tilting slightly with every click until the pointer landed, quiet and decisive, on a blue truth card.

You plucked it from the pile, trying for casual, clearing your throat as you read, the words catching somewhere halfway through. What’s something you’ve thought about doing with the person in front of you but never said out loud? The second the sentence hung between you, the air felt different, heavier, sharper, like the room itself was holding its breath. You didn’t look up right away, too aware of the sudden stillness that had settled over him, the faint, unspoken shift in the shape of his silence. When you finally raised your gaze, his eyes were already there waiting, wide and startled, his expression balanced precariously between a smile and a choke, like the game had finally outplayed him and for once he didn’t know whether to laugh or lie.

Well, he said slowly, one hand drifting to his jaw, thumb brushing along the edge in absent circles, his voice warm and dry like he was stalling for time, I was going to say ‘stealing your hoodies,’ but now I’m thinking this game has a vendetta. The corner of your mouth twitched, a smile threatening to tug loose despite the heat crawling up your neck, your fingers tightening slightly around the card, knuckles whitening with the effort it took to stay still. You’re allowed to say that. That’s harmless.

Oh, sure. His head tilted, eyes narrowing just enough to spark a different kind of tension, voice dipping a shade closer to the line between teasing and dangerous. But now it sounds like a metaphor. The air stretched thin between you, a taut string pulled tight, and you held his gaze a beat too long, the question still lingering, still open, still waiting. Your voice came quieter, softer, heavy with the dare you couldn’t swallow back. What were you actually going to say?

The hesitation barely lasted a second, but you felt it, the faint stutter in his breath, the twitch of his fingers tapping once, twice against his thigh, the way his tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip like the answer sat there, sweet and sharp, waiting to cut. Then the smile came, small and sly, the kind of grin that always meant he was about to say something dangerous but not quite criminal, the kind of look that never failed to unravel you. Yeah, nah. I’m not touching that one, he murmured, voice a little lower, a little softer, thick with all the things he wasn’t saying. Spin again.

The next few rounds passed with the kind of laughter that made your cheeks hurt. Chris took his hoodie off when a card demanded it, revealing a tight black T-shirt underneath that you pretended not to notice and you admitted to having a weirdly vivid dream about him last year, though you refused to explain it. He let you draw a heart with whipped cream on the side of his neck as punishment for skipping a card about sending a flirty voice memo. You both agreed to burn the box afterward, and slowly, too slowly to catch until it was already happening, yyour laughter kept brushing up against something warmer. Something charged.

Then Chris drew another card, the motion slow, almost absent-minded, his fingers hesitating at the edges like his brain had only just caught up to the fact that he was still playing. The room had gone quiet again, thick with something that wasn’t quite laughter anymore, and when he flipped the card over his eyes flicked across the words, lingering there a moment too long, his mouth twitching with a sound that barely qualified as a laugh — more like a breath that got trapped on its way out. He didn’t look up. He just sat there, turning the card between his fingers, thumb brushing slow circles over the paper as though it might soften the meaning, as though it might change the rules if he waited long enough.

Okay. This one’s… another soft huff of air, that same laugh-shaped breath, one that had no place in the tightness of the room, Let your partner whisper something they’ve always wanted to do to you — into your ear. If they do, you each keep all your clothes on. If not, both lose one layer. The words hung there, suspended in the dim light, pressing in on both of you from all sides. Your heart stuttered, sharp and unsure, tripping over the space where it should’ve landed cleanly, and for a second you couldn’t tell if it had stopped or simply skipped so hard you’d missed the beat altogether.

Chris finally glanced up, the weight of the moment tipping his head slightly, his gaze flicking toward you with something more cautious, more careful than before, like he was testing the air between you before stepping into it, like he wasn’t sure if the ground had shifted or if he’d just imagined it. He held the card out toward you, his hand steady but his eyes not quite matching, and his voice came quieter now, lower, the kind of soft that people used when they were offering you an out. We can skip, he said, like the words were some kind of life raft. We probably should.

But you didn’t reach for the card, you didn’t move at all, just sat there, staring at him, watching the tension curl around the space where the game used to be, realizing somewhere between the silence and the shallow rise of his chest that the shift had already happened. It hadn’t been the card, or the chocolate, or the dares. It wasn’t the game, not really, it was the way his voice had changed when he said your name two dares ago, the way your knee had stayed pressed against his for far too long without either of you adjusting. Somewhere between the whipped cream and the fourth dare, you’d stopped pretending this wasn’t real.

Your lips curled, slow and reluctant, a smile so small it barely made it to the surface, like you were still deciding whether it was safe to let it stay. Cautious, measured, but there, all the same. Okay, you said, voice soft but steady, your head tilting slightly, inviting the rest of the moment to close the distance for you. Come here, then. And just like that, the room folded into itself, the noise bleeding away until all that was left was the sound of his breathing and the long, quiet stretch of space that had never felt so impossibly close.

Chris didn’t speak, didn’t joke or stall or give you the easy out he usually would’ve offered without thinking, he just looked at you like he was recalculating something, something important, and then stood slowly, that soft grin slipping into something quieter as he rounded the counter. His movements weren’t dramatic, but they felt louder than they should’ve been and you could hear the way his socked feet shifted across the tile, the faint creak of the stool beside yours as he took the seat, knees brushing yours for the second time tonight—but now it didn’t feel accidental, but a dare in itself.

He leaned in close, closer than he ever had, and that was saying something, and tipped his head so his mouth hovered near your ear. You caught the faintest hint of chocolate on his breath, still warm from laughing, and your body locked up like it had just remembered you were alive in real time. His hand braced gently on your thigh, not grabbing, just grounding, the kind of contact that made your thoughts scatter like marbles on a floor. His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. I’ve thought about kissing you when you’re mid-laugh, he said, slow and steady, like each word had weight. Like… when your head tips back just a little, and your eyes get kind of shiny? I always wonder if you’d let me. Then silence. Not long, just enough, enough for you to feel it, really feel it, settling under your skin like warm water in your chest.

When he pulled back, he didn’t look triumphant or smug, he looked nervous, quiet, in a way you’d never really seen on him, like saying it had actually cost him something. You weren’t sure what your face was doing, but you knew you were blinking too much and swallowing like your mouth had suddenly forgotten how to be normal. Your pulse was doing gymnastics in your throat and you didn’t even realize your hand was still on your lap until your fingers twitched against the hem of your shirt. Chris cleared his throat and made a vague gesture toward the cards. So, uh. Technically I didn’t lose any clothing, so… I win, right? he said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You laughed, finally, but it came out a little breathless. That’s not how emotional nudity works. He smirked at that—your Chris again, quick and full of mischief—but there was something in his posture now, something more alert. He wasn’t hiding it anymore, neither were you as you reached for another card. It was just easier than speaking. Alright, you said, throat dry. Let’s level the playing field. You handed it to him. You read this one.

He took it, eyes flicking down. Then his eyebrows shot up. Lick something off your partner’s skin—or let them draw something NSFW on your body blindfolded. He glanced up, and this time, the tension didn’t creep in, it slammed. You sat perfectly still for a moment, like your body was trying to decide whether it was allowed to want anything in this room, then you leaned back slowly, tilting your head. What counts as NSFW? you asked. Your voice was too calm, it didn’t match the heat curling in your chest. Chris blinked at you, then laughed, surprised. Wow. We are really doing this. You nodded once. Apparently, we are. And there it was again, that pause, the one just before the shift.

Chris stared at the card like it was a prophecy, some kind of ridiculous challenge issued by the universe that he’d been accidentally training for his whole life without knowing. You watched the wheels turn behind his eyes, the quick flick of thought, mischief, restraint, something warmer. It hit you all at once how stupidly gorgeous he was—how annoyingly sharp his jaw looked from this angle, how his lashes curled just enough to make you resent the unfairness of genetics, how his lips were parted slightly, caught between a grin and something else, something quieter. Your stomach fluttered without your permission, not a dramatic swoop, but something real enough to make you fold your arms, like your body was trying to protect the thought from forming too clearly. Chris rubbed the back of his neck, leaned back on his stool, and blew out a breath that bordered on a groan. Okay. Listen. I’ve made a lot of questionable decisions in my life, but I don’t think I’ve ever licked something off a friend before. I feel like that’s a line you cross and never come back from. You tilted your head, barely suppressing a smile. So draw on me, then.

That’s somehow worse, he said, laughing under his breath. Because then I have to think about it. I have to picture it. That’s practically a creative writing assignment. You were already reaching for the whipped cream again, amused and reckless and not nearly as unaffected as you wanted to be. Okay, fine. I’ll go easy on you. Just a classic little doodle. Maybe a peach. A heart. A deeply disturbing banana. He groaned again, leaning forward until his elbows hit his knees and his hands dragged down his face. Jesus. You’re trying to kill me. This is murder. You breathed a laugh. You picked the card. No backing out now. you reminded him, already shaking the can. I didn’t pick it, he said, the devil did.

But he was smiling again, almost helplessly, the way he always did when he lost a bet, or a game, or his composure. And then he was sitting up straighter, pulling his shirt off without ceremony and tossing it over the back of the stool like it was no big deal, even though the muscles in his shoulders tensed as the cotton slid off. His chest was lean, warm-toned, familiar in that distant way, something you’d seen before, at pools or late nights or friend group sleepovers, but never quite like this. Never under lighting this soft, never while his eyes locked on yours.

You swallowed once, then motioned for him to turn around a little and he did, back to you now, the ridge of his spine shifting subtly as he leaned forward. You knelt behind him on the stool, bracing one hand on his shoulder to keep your balance, the other holding the can like a paintbrush. You hesitated, then pressed the nozzle gently against the space just beneath his shoulder blade, drawing a lopsided heart that began to melt almost immediately against his skin. Jesus, it’s cold. Chris twitched. Yeah, well, you murmured, leaning closer without meaning to, you’re warm.

You hadn’t meant it to sound like that, not really, not like it meant something but the words hung there between you anyway, soft and weightless and still somehow too heavy, stretched thin with all the things you weren’t saying. He didn’t answer, didn’t shift, didn’t even lift his head. He just stayed where he was, sitting perfectly still, his shoulders faintly rigid, his head bowed slightly like the air had changed and he was bracing for it, like your fingertips brushing across his skin were doing far more than they should for something so innocent. You leaned back a fraction, putting just enough space between you to breathe, eyes flicking over the smudged, sticky shape left behind on his shoulder, the uneven edge of it catching in the dim light. There, you murmured, clearing your throat around the sudden dryness that wasn’t there before, All done. You’re a masterpiece. It came out lighter than you felt, thin and a little off-balance, but you let it stand.

That’s… generous, he muttered, voice dipping rough and quiet, glancing over his shoulder at you, his mouth twitching but not quite forming a full smile. I’m not even gonna ask what it’s supposed to be. His eyes lingered on yours a little too long, like he already knew, or like he was trying not to guess.

You pushed off the edge of the stool, hands brushing down your thighs as you reached for a napkin, trying and failing to rub the sugar from your fingertips, the stickiness clinging stubbornly no matter how many times you swiped. A melting heart, you offered, casual but quiet, the words folding smaller as you spoke them. Very symbolic. He raised both brows, slow and questioning, like he could already feel the shift tightening between you. Oh?

Yeah, you said, the shape of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth but never quite making it there. It’s about two people getting in way over their heads with a stupid game. The silence stretched between you again, but this time it wasn’t empty. You were halfway back around the counter, trying to smooth your expression into something neutral, when his voice caught you, low, steady, a little too careful. Can I try mine now? The question stalled you mid-step, your pulse giving a sharp, unsteady kick as you turned back to face him. Your what?

My turn, he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if the ground hadn’t shifted at all. His gaze held yours, quiet and steady. The other option. Your breath hitched, barely enough to notice but enough for him to see. You blinked once. You want to lick—

No, he said, and the word softened under the weight of the small, crooked smile that followed. But I want to try something. Something not on the card. His voice wasn’t teasing anymore, not sharp or playful the way it had been earlier, just soft, softer than you’d expected, like he was already halfway past pretending and before you could ask what he meant, before you could even reach for the space to wonder, he stepped toward you, slow and careful, his body shifting like he was moving through deep water, like every inch forward was measured and deliberate, like he was giving you every second you needed to stop him. His hand found your wrist, light, barely there, just enough to guide, not enough to hold, and the way he touched you wasn’t reckless or bold or rushed. It was quiet, sure, almost tender, like maybe the game had ended a long time ago, and neither of you had noticed until now.

It should’ve felt too intimate, too sharp, but it didn’t. It just felt like gravity, like momentum that had been building long before this night, long before the chocolates or the spinning wheel or the whipped cream heart dissolving on his back. You swallowed, but your throat stayed dry. This part of the game has no rules, he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, as he pulled you toward him with no real urgency. So technically we can do whatever we want. That made you laugh, breathy and strained. Pretty sure that’s exactly how people ruin friendships. He tilted his head. Or evolve them. You rolled your eyes, too fast, too nervous. Alright, Plato. Just tell me what I’m agreeing to.

He didn’t answer, just looked down, then back up, something unreadable working in the line of his jaw. Then, with a low hum of resignation, he reached for the whipped cream again and held it out like a truce offering. You blinked at it. You’re kidding. Chris just raised his brows. Game’s still on, right?

That was the out, right there, you could’ve said no, could’ve laughed it off, blamed the sugar and the cards and the tension and gone right back to sorting ridiculous plastic toys with your clothes on and your friendship intact, but you didn’t. You took the can, slowly. Where? you asked, and your voice sounded foreign in your throat—too soft, too steady. He watched you for a second, then stepped closer, close enough to touch, close enough that you had to tilt your chin a little to keep eye contact. Anywhere, he said. Dealer’s choice.

You should’ve picked somewhere safe, his forearm, his collarbone, maybe even the ridiculous whipped cream heart that was half-faded now on his shoulder, but your hand moved before your brain caught up, and you tapped the can gently against the center of his sternum, just above the hem of his shirtless chest. You sprayed a small dollop there, round and ridiculous, already softening with his body heat. This is getting weird, you muttered. Chris’s voice was lower now, the kind of voice that only existed in quiet rooms and slowed time. It’s just the game.

You nodded, like that made sense. Like you weren’t very much aware of the fact that he was about to lick something off his own chest because you’d put it there. But he didn’t. Not exactly. Instead, he looked at you once more, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes, then reached for your wrist again, guiding your hand forward, slowly, toward the spot you’d just marked. Here, he said. You do it. Your mouth went dry. Chris. He didn’t drop your gaze. It’s just the game.

And that was all it took, one more silent agreement, one more shrug of permission between two people pretending they weren’t doing exactly what they’d always said they wouldn’t. You stepped in, leaned forward, pressed your hands lightly against his chest to steady yourself, fingertips grazing the edge of the spot. And before you could overthink it, your mouth was there, warm, quick, tongue barely flicking the cream away before retreating again. He didn’t move, but he exhaled sharply through his nose, like the restraint cost him something. You stepped back slowly, suddenly aware of the way your palms still rested on his skin, the way the space between you didn’t quite cool. That’s not how you play this game, you said, a little breathless. He didn’t smile. No, he said. It’s not.

You turned toward the box again, desperate for distraction, for something—anything—to do with your hands, and grabbed the nearest toy without looking. It was a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs, the metal heavy and cold and absurd between your fingers. Great, you muttered, holding them up. Finally, something wholesome. Chris laughed, that low familiar chuckle that made your stomach pull tight. You planning on arresting me for inappropriate gameplay? You tossed them at him. Don’t tempt me.

Chris tested the hinge of the handcuffs like he was auditioning for the world’s softest dominatrix-themed magic act, giving them a little dramatic shake before clicking the second cuff around his own wrist. Well, he said, lifting your joined hands up between you with a sage nod, I hope you weren’t planning on using the bathroom anytime soon. You raised a brow. You’ve chained us together and you didn’t ask for consent. Wow. I’m calling HR.

That’s fine, he said, gesturing with his free hand toward the mess of glittery boxes and melted chocolate casualties strewn across the counter. I think the entire bachelorette planning committee resigned three dares ago. Honestly, we deserve it, you said, giving the cuffs a little tug, He grinned, that boyish, bright kind of grin that always made you feel like you were about to get in trouble in a fun way. You realize we’re stuck like this until someone finds the key?

What do you mean someone? you asked, your voice pitching up just slightly, the first flicker of mild alarm tightening your throat. Your gaze snapped toward him, watching his face carefully. Did you already lose it? Chris blinked, a beat too slow, too casual to be believable. No? His mouth twitched, like the lie tasted funny even to him. You narrowed your eyes, tipping your head, waiting. That wasn’t very convincing.

Okay, maybe it fell under the couch when I was opening the box, he admitted, lifting his hands in mock surrender, but let’s not panic— You let out a sharp gasp, grabbing his arm in theatrical betrayal, your fingers curling tight around his sleeve. Christopher Bahng. He froze for half a second, lips twitching at the edges before he tilted his head at you. You never use my full name unless you’re mad or drunk. The words came out flat, dry, a little too honest. I’m both.

That did it — he cackled, the sound bursting out of him unrestrained as he doubled over, the handcuffs at your wrists tugging tight with every movement, your balance shifting closer as the chain shortened the space between you. His laughter only grew harder at the sight of your unimpressed glare. This is exactly the kind of chaos our friends would expect from us. I’m gonna give the toast at their wedding like, ‘Remember that time we accidentally handcuffed ourselves together and emotionally compromised your bachelor party plans?’

You raised your wrist, the weight of the cuffs tilting your arm slightly, metal cool and unyielding against your skin. And they’ll be like, ‘Yes, because we had to saw you apart with a bread knife,’ you deadpanned, your fingers flexed, testing the give — there was none. How do these feel both flimsy and unbreakable? Chris straightened, still slightly breathless, the warmth of his grin lingering even as his voice dipped into mock wisdom. That’s the magic of cheap kink gear, he said sagely, his thumb brushing along the edge of the cuff where it sat against his own wrist, the lightest of touches betraying just how aware he was of it.

You gave the cuffs another gentle tug, testing the play in the chain, and when you moved, Chris moved with you, closer, unintentionally, until the length between your bodies evaporated into heat and breath and proximity so palpable it felt engineered. It should’ve felt awkward, but it didn’t, just heavier than it should’ve as quiet crept back in, slow and sudden, and the laughter stuttered between you like it had been knocked sideways. You both stilled, just for a second, just long enough.

You felt him first—the way his chest rose unevenly, like he was holding in a breath without realizingl then the weight of his gaze on your mouth, brief but sharp, gone again before you could read it. Your linked wrists hovered between you, hands tangled in a strange, quiet knot, and you realized you’d both stopped pretending this was just a bit. There was no punchline now, no safe word for what this had become, only that quiet, gut-deep awareness that you’d crossed into something neither of you had named yet.

Chris didn’t move, but something about him had shifted, shoulders squared but not in defense, mouth parted but unreadable, like he was waiting for a sign you didn’t know you were supposed to give. Your gaze flicked down, just for a breath, to his lips, just curiosity, you told yourself, just a reflex, just— His voice, when it came, was barely more than a whisper. If I kiss you right now, he said, still not moving, we’ll have to blame the game. You didn’t speak, too startled by the clarity of it, by how your body suddenly felt light and weighted at once. Do you want to? you asked. And your voice didn’t even wobble.

He didn’t answer, not with words, just leaned in slow, careful, like a hand reaching into fire to test for heat. He didn’t close the distance all the way, just enough that you could feel the breath between you change, that warm, syrupy tension pulled taut as a wire, your noses almost brushing, your mouths aligned in the kind of delicate stand-off that shouldn’t have felt as intimate as it did. And then, of course, your cuffs slipped, just a little, a clumsy, stupid jolt as your linked hands dropped between you, and your shoulders crashed forward. Your forehead bumped his chin, and Chris yelped like he’d been tased. Ow—fuck—my jaw.

You stumbled back, laughing so hard your lungs burned, the sound shaking through you as you doubled over, your cuffed hands pressed tight to your ribs like they were the only thing holding you together. Oh my god—did I break your face? Chris groaned, one hand dragging over his jaw, fingers testing the spot where your heads had collided, but there was more amusement than injury in his eyes. No, but we definitely broke the moment, he managed, lips quirking crookedly. That was almost hot, you know. I was gonna go for like, a cinematic-level kiss.

You looked like you were trying to taste my soul, you wheezed, struggling to catch your breath between fits of laughter. I was scared. He snorted, the sound dissolving into more laughter, his head tipping back slightly, cheeks pink and voice still a little breathless. You should be. That much sexual tension should be a controlled substance.

The room slowly quieted around the tail-end of your laughter, the sound fading but the glow of it still lingering between you, leaving you both breathless and dumb and bright with it, but the air hadn’t quite gone back to normal, not entirely. That almost-kiss hung there, weighty and unspoken, suspended in the quiet space between your smiles, between the clumsy press of your cuffed wrists and the way neither of you had stepped back for real. Because you both knew exactly what had almost happened, and neither of you had pulled away.

Chris didn’t try to smooth it over with a joke this time, not right away. He just stood there, hand still absently rubbing at his jaw, mouth parted slightly like he was still thinking about where yours had been a moment ago. The laughter faded between you, trailing off into a soft, breathy kind of hush, not uncomfortable, but aware, a quiet that buzzed around your skin like static, humming beneath the shallow rhythm of your breathing. You were still cuffed together, hands awkwardly joined at your sides, like the game hadn’t quite let go of you yet, like it was still watching, waiting, pressing at your backs with a nudge and a smirk and the kind of permission neither of you wanted to admit you wanted.

Well, Chris said finally, his voice low and rough, like he hadn’t quite caught his breath. That went almost exactly how I planned. You snorted softly, eyes fixed on the floor. What part? The sexual tension or the headbutt? He grinned at that, the edge of it a little crooked. Ideally, less dental trauma. But otherwise? I’d say we’re right on schedule. You lifted your cuffed wrists between you with a wry twist of your mouth. Schedule for what, exactly?

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at your joined hands, then at you, then down again, like he was thinking way too hard about something that should’ve been stupidly simple. Nothing, he said. It’s just the game. Right? You nodded once, too quickly. Obviously. Nothing weird is happening.

Totally normal amount of eye contact, he agreed.

And tension.

And proximity.

And thoughts that we’re absolutely not having.

Exactly.

You stood there in silence for another beat, too long, too loaded, the air straining under the weight of everything neither of you were saying. Then, as if some invisible wire finally snapped, you both lunged for the game box at the same time, hands colliding mid-air with a soft, clumsy smack. New card, you both blurted in unison, voices a little too bright, a little too rushed, like kids caught sneaking candy before dinner, scrambling to cover the evidence.

Chris reached it first, fingers closing around the stack with theatrical triumph, and with an exaggeratedly solemn voice, he plucked a card free and read: Feed your partner something without using your hands. You blinked, staring at him, the words landing hard enough to make your pulse skip. This game is trying to kill us. He nodded, lips pressed together in mock gravity, though his eyes still danced. It’s sentient and wants us dead.

But even as the joke lingered, his gaze drifted toward the counter, scanning the scattered wreckage of snacks like he was actually weighing the options, fingers twitching slightly where they hung from the cuffs. There was something about the way he looked so focused, so casually unbothered, that sent another ripple of nerves straight through you. Okay, he murmured, still surveying the damage. What do we have left that won’t immediately make me look like I have a food kink? You gestured lazily toward the closest optio, a slumped, half-melted square of chocolate beside the game box. This seems least awful. Chris grimaced, nose wrinkling. It’s literally melting. That’s gonna be disgusting.

Then pick something else, you shot back, still lingering somewhere between laughter and something far more dangerous. You have teeth. Figure it out. That crooked, slow-burning grin started creeping onto his face, his eyes locking onto yours, sharp and playful and unmissably charged. Do not tell me to figure it out while we’re handcuffed. That’s not fair.

You should’ve rolled your eyes, should’ve shoved his shoulder and kept the banter going, but your laugh came a little too soft, a little too breathless, and your chest felt light in a way that had nothing to do with the sugar anymore. He kept looking at you—really looking, gaze lingering like he was learning new parts of you by accident, or maybe on purpose and then, without bothering to be subtle, he leaned forward, picked up the drooping piece of chocolate with his mouth, clamping it between his teeth, and tilted his head at you. You froze, the moment crystallizing around you, sharp and too sweet. Chris.

Mhm? he hummed, lips barely parting around the piece of chocolate.

You look like you’re about to kiss me. Not feed me. There’s a difference. His eyes flicked down, catching on your mouth, hovering there like gravity had its own ideas. Doesn’t have to be, he murmured, voice low and thick behind the chocolate. That shut you up, cut clean through your defenses, right to the part of you that had stopped pretending this was just a game hours ago. You stepped forward before your mind could catch up, letting instinct fill the gap, noses brushing, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, the scent of chocolate sharp and rich and unbearably soft between you. His lashes dipped low, eyes half-lidded, restraint hanging by a thread.

And then, slow, slower than either of you meant for it to be, your lips brushed his. Barely, a whisper of a kiss, light enough to question if it even happened at all, stolen through sugar and bad timing and the kind of mutual impulse that made your heart feel like it wasn’t yours anymore. He didn’t deepen it, didn’t push, just lingered there, close enough to still feel your mouth, the chocolate long forgotten, your hands tangled helplessly between you, the cuffs a cold reminder at your wrists. When he finally exhaled, it sounded like he’d been holding that breath for hours. Still the game, he whispered, voice too soft, too strained. But this time, not even he sounded like he believed it.

It wasn’t even a decision, not really. One second, you were standing there with your mouths barely brushing, your hands tangled between you and your breath too loud in your own ears, and the next, something in both of you gave way, like gravity just tipped the wrong direction. Like the joke had run its course and now all that was left was the answer that had been humming beneath every dare, every glance, every breathless laugh.

Chris kissed you like he’d been waiting to do it for years—no hesitation, no teasing, no half-measures. Just full contact, lips parted, tongue pressing past yours with a heat that startled something loose in your chest. You made a noise you didn’t recognize, sharp and soft at once, and he swallowed it, one hand still caught in the cuffs and the other coming up to cup your jaw, gentle in a way that contrasted the hunger behind it. There was nothing casual about it, nothing safe, he kissed like he meant it, like this wasn’t part of the game anymore.

The chocolate was gone in seconds, melted somewhere between your teeth and his, but neither of you noticed. All you could register was the taste of sugar and sin and him, his mouth warm, insistent, moving against yours like he was trying to memorize the shape of you from the inside. His body pressed closer, one step forward, and your backs hit the edge of the counter, he didn’t pull away, just angled his head, deepened the kiss, and groaned low when you leaned into it. Your cuffed hands twisted between you, caught in the fabric of his jeans now, tangled in the ridiculous pink fuzz and his body heat and the rising tension you couldn’t laugh off anymore. Your knees buckled slightly, not because he was forcing anything, but because your whole body felt like it was pulsing under your skin, like the air had thickened, like every brush of his mouth sent another wave of warmth sinking deep, curling low in your stomach.

And god, the aphrodisiacs. You hadn’t noticed them at first—had been too busy joking, dodging tension, pretending you were immune—but now it was like every nerve in your body had a direct line to your skin. Everything felt too sharp, too good, his hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingertips threading into your hair, and it sent a shiver down your spine so strong you gasped into his mouth. Chris groaned again at that, breath hitching, and his free arm curled around your waist, pulling you flush against him like he needed to feel you without even thinking about it. The heat was unbearable, or maybe it was perfect, you couldn’t tell anymore.

You pulled back just a little, just enough to look at him, to see the flushed tilt of his mouth, the blown-wide pupils, the stunned expression barely softened by whatever restraint he was still clinging to. He was breathing hard, so were you, your hearts were practically racing in sync. You… You could barely find the words, lips swollen, throat dry. That wasn’t the card. Chris looked at you like you’d told him the sky was red. I don’t care. You blinked, dazed. You’re supposed to care.

He laughed once, short, breathless, a little shaky. I think I stopped caring somewhere between the chocolate and the part where you made that noise. You opened your mouth to fire back something clever, but nothing came out. Your head was spinning, your body was buzzing, everything under your skin was burning slow and hot and deep.

He didn’t kiss you again, not yet, but he didn’t back away either. Just stayed close, forehead brushing yours, the cuffs between you pulled tight, still locked, still binding. You could feel the tension radiating off him like a furnace, could feel his thigh pressed hard against yours, the subtle shift of muscle as he tried, tried, not to let it all go. Still blaming the game? you whispered, barely able to hear yourself. Chris nodded once, slow and quiet, like the movement cost him. If I stop, I won’t stop.

And you believed him. It happened the way everything else had, with momentum instead of permission, like the moment already existed and all you had to do was step into it. Chris looked at you like he didn’t know where to start and also like he’d already decided, his hand, still tethered to yours, twisted slightly so your fingers slid between his, and the intimacy of that one tiny motion almost undid you. You leaned in at the same time he did, mouths crashing together again, and this time there was no pretending, no joke to hide behind, no breath left to spare for denial.

His tongue met yours with more urgency, more heat, and your back arched as he pushed into you, his free hand landing on your hip with enough pressure to make you gasp. You felt it, how hard he was, how ready, and when your hips accidentally brushed his, both of you let out these quiet, ragged sounds, like you couldn’t believe it was actually happening. The counter behind you dug into your spine, but you didn’t care when all you could feel was him, his mouth, his hands, the way he kept shifting like he wanted more contact and didn’t know how to get it fast enough. Your cuffed hands fought for space between you, tugging, fumbling at his waistband like you were both half-drunk on sugar and whatever the hell was laced into those ridiculous party favors.

Chris’s lips trailed down your jaw, his breath warm against your skin, before his teeth scraped lightly over your neck. A soft whimper escaped you before you could stop it, the sound vibrating in your throat. This is a bad idea, you breathed, the words leaving your lips breathless, but your hands were already tugging at his shirt, already letting him press closer, feeling the heat of him between your legs. Terrible idea, he muttered against your skin, voice wrecked and raw, as if he were barely holding it together. The worst.

You swallowed, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You’re supposed to be the best man, you whispered, voice faltering under the weight of the situation. And you’re the maid of honor, he replied, his lips dragging back up to yours, the kiss deepening instantly. This is just… diplomacy. You couldn’t help but laugh, a helpless, delirious sound, your body moving before you even meant to, grinding up into him, your hips jerking instinctively. You’re such a shit.

And you like it, he groaned, kissing you again, deeper this time, full of heat, all tongue and teeth, the urgency between you overwhelming. His hand grabbed your ass, pulling you closer, making your breath catch painfully in your chest. Jesus, you like it.

You moaned in response, the sound thick and raw, because you couldn’t think anymore. Everything was blurring, your thighs parting around him, the roll of his hips against yours, the way your wrists were pinned between your bodies like you couldn’t possibly separate even if you tried, every inch of you felt like it was reaching for him, your skin burning under the pressure, every inhale soaked in him, his scent, his heat. There was no slow build now—just sharp, desperate movement, your body clinging to his like it already knew the shape of this, like it had always known.

Chris’s hand was under your shirt before you could even register it, his callused palm dragging up your stomach with deliberate slowness and when his thumb found your nipple through your bra, you gasped so loud it bounced off the kitchen walls, sharp and needy. Fuck, he muttered, breath shaking, his forehead pressing against yours again, the tension crackling between you like static. Tell me to stop. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You’re the one who started this.

I didn’t think you’d let me. His voice was hoarse, raw, barely contained. I didn’t think I’d want to. He stilled, his eyes searching yours in the dim light, chest heaving with every shallow breath. So what now? he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with anticipation. We just—fuck each other in the middle of the bachelor party planning?

You kissed him again, silencing any more words with the press of your lips, dragging his bottom lip between your teeth, just to feel him shudder, the pulse of his body under yours. I mean… we’ve done worse. He laughed then, but it was barely a sound, cracked open, raw, real. You’re high on sex chocolate. You nodded, your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his shirt. And you’re handcuffed to me. He tilted his head slightly, his voice darkening with a teasing edge. I’m never getting out of these, am I?

Not if you keep touching me like that.

The words hung there, a challenge, a promise until his mouth was on yours again, and you weren’t laughing anymore. Just breathing hard, just moaning into each other, already half-undressed, already lost. The last thing you heard before you lost the thread completely was Chris whispering against your lips, Still blaming the game, like it was the only thing holding him together. And maybe it was, maybe it was the only thing holding both of you together, or maybe, just maybe, you’d already given in.

You didn’t even make it out of the kitchen, the counter cold under your thighs, your jeans halfway undone, the hem of your shirt bunched up around your ribs where Chris had pushed it earlier in a moment of hunger he hadn’t even tried to disguise. His hands were everywhere, broad palms dragging slow and deliberate over your sides, your thighs, the small of your back. His lips were red, kiss-bitten, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon, and the way he kept looking at you made it feel like your body was something he’d just discovered and now couldn’t stop needing to learn. But still, somehow, you hadn’t quite crossed that last line, your clothes partly on, your bodies caught in that hazy, frayed edge of foreplay where nothing had been decided but everything was possible, which, naturally, is when Chris spotted the bottle.

It was small and pink, the label curling at the edges like it had been sitting in the box too long, a little faded and worn. He picked it up with two fingers, like it might explode at any second. Okay. What the hell is this? His voice was laced with both curiosity and hesitation, the mystery of it hanging heavy in the air between you as you blinked down at it, still breathless, your heart thudding in your ears, the buzz of adrenaline mixing with something hotter. I think it’s… a warming gel? you ventured, unsure, but intrigued by the way the bottle seemed to pulse with its own promise.

Chris turned the bottle slowly in his hand, squinting at the text. ‘For use on sensitive areas. Results may vary. Not for the faint of heart.’ He looked up at you, his brows raised in disbelief, and then a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. That sounds ominous as fuck. You leaned in, your voice low and teasing. Sounds like a dare. Your eyes narrowed playfully, a dangerous spark igniting between you. Chris smirked again, his gaze full of challenge. Everything with you is a dare lately. The way his words dropped between you felt like an invitation, one you couldn't ignore as you grabbed the bottle from him with your cuffed hand, your fingertips brushing his in the process, just skin on skin, but it felt like a match striking, sparking something fierce and immediate. We’re already doomed. Might as well commit, you muttered, your voice thick with something that bordered on reckless.

Chris watched you uncork the bottle, his expression shifting to one of fascinated dread, the kind usually reserved for horror movies or impossible deadlines. What’re you gonna do, just… slap it on my neck and hope for the best? he asked, voice a little tight, like he was already regretting this. You shrugged, your lips curving into something mischievous. Unless you’d prefer I go for, like, direct application.

His mouth fell open slightly, eyes wide with disbelief. You're insane, he whispered, his voice catching in the back of his throat, the words laced with a mix of teasing and something darker. You laughed, but your cheeks burned with the weight of your own words. I’m kidding. Mostly.

Still, the curiosity was stronger than either of you expected as you squeezed a little of the gel onto your fingertips and, without overthinking it, reached for his collar. Your fingers brushed against the soft fabric, pulling it aside to smear the gel across the warm skin of his chest, just above his collarbone. He hissed—not in pain, but surprise—and his hand twitched against your hip like you’d just shot electricity through his veins. Holy shit, he muttered, blinking rapidly, his voice rough and unsteady. That’s—uh. That’s definitely not faint. You leaned back, studying him with a mix of fascination and amusement. Is it burning?

No, it’s like—fuck, it’s warm. Like really warm. And kinda… tingly? But not in a bad way. Just in a… He trailed off, his voice taking on a husky edge, low and uncertain. Okay, now I’m scared to know what it does to, like, actual sensitive areas. His eyes were dark, his pulse quickening and you raised an eyebrow, wickedly amused. So we’re not doing a field test? you asked, the words dripping with challenge, the air thick with anticipation.

Chris gave you a look, half impressed, half terrified, that made your stomach tighten in ways you didn’t expect. I don’t know whether to kiss you or sue you, he muttered, his voice rough with the mix of amusement and tension. You dipped your finger in the gel again, this time dragging it lightly along the inside of his wrist, just below where the cuff bit into his skin. He exhaled sharply, the sound a soft, jagged gasp that made your thighs clench, and his body jerked like he couldn’t control the reaction. Jesus, this is evil, he groaned, his voice trembling, heavy with both pleasure and disbelief.

Pretty sure this is what witches used in medieval times, you whispered, leaning in close enough that your breath ghosted across the skin of his neck, just below his ear. Bet you feel it everywhere now. You pressed your lips just below his ear, feeling the shudder that ran through him at your touch, the tremor in his body unmistakable. I do, he groaned, his voice cracking at the edges. It’s like—fuck, you don’t feel that? His eyes were on yours now, pupils dilated, his breath ragged as his entire focus locked onto you.

You raised a brow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. I haven’t tried it yet. Your voice was slow, deliberate, the words slipping out like a dare of their own. His eyes snapped to yours, dark and swimming with something you couldn’t quite name. Do it, he said, barely more than a whisper, the words laced with desire and something dangerous. I dare you.

Your heart punched your ribs, and before you could stop yourself, you were sliding your free hand up under your own shirt, smearing a dab of the gel just beneath your bra, right over your sternum. The warmth bloomed almost immediately—subtle at first, then sharper, like the touch of his tongue had been replaced with slow, creeping fire. Your mouth fell open, a soft moan slipping out before you could catch it, and Chris’s reaction was instant, his hips bucked forward, like the sound of you unraveling was too much. Okay, he rasped, watching your face with something dangerously close to reverence. That’s it. That’s illegal. That sound. You laughed, breathless, dragging your hand down to grab his shirt. The game made me do it. Chris leaned in again, kissing you like he meant to ruin you for every other person who’d ever tried. Then let’s keep playing.

It spiraled in the way only things with too much tension and too little denial ever could. The kiss deepened immediately, messier this time, less polished, tongue, teeth, a quiet gasp swallowed between mouths that couldn’t get enough. Your cuffed hands twisted in the space between your bodies, useless and clumsy but still greedy, and Chris didn’t seem to care, his fingers spread wide against your thigh, dragging up, up, until they found the curve of your hip and pulled you flush to the heat of him, hard and insistent through denim. The movement made you moan again, soft, wrecked, and the sound drew another kiss from him, open-mouthed and unrestrained, like he was trying to answer it with his body. The gel still burned gently where you’d touched it, a slow ember low in your sternum, and the warmth seemed to echo, to chase itself through every place his hands found.

He broke the kiss only long enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you panting like you’d been running. I don’t know if it’s the chocolate, or the game, or just—fuck—it’s you, but I can’t stop. Your voice came out rough, ruined. Then don’t.

Chris kissed you again, slower now but deeper, and you could feel the way the air shifted between you—less chaos, more control, but only just. You arched into his body as he finished unbuttoning your jeans with his free hand, his fingers fumbling slightly but determined, like he couldn’t not try. You could feel how badly he wanted it, and it lit something in you that went straight to your core and still, even now, there was a layer of ridiculousness to it all—the way your arms kept getting tangled, the absurd pink cuffs tugging at your balance, the scattered game cards still spread across the counter beside you. He was halfway through sliding your zipper down when he paused, breathing heavy, and glanced at one of the cards lying crooked beside your leg.

Okay, he said, voice hoarse, like he was struggling to catch his breath, his eyes flickered to the card in your hand. Tell me you didn’t plant this. You blinked down at the card, the words staring back at you like a joke you weren’t sure you wanted to get. ‘Give your partner a lap dance.’ You burst into laughter, the sound shaky and breathless, but the moment it escaped, a moan hitched in your throat when his fingers accidentally brushed too close to the waistband of your underwear. The heat from his touch lingered there, making everything a little sharper, a little more aware. That’s not even physically possible right now. You laughed again, but it sounded more like an exhale than anything else.

I mean, Chris said, voice dropping into that teasing tone that had been there all night, eyes darting down to where your thighs were still wrapped around him, define ‘lap.’ His grin was smug, a little too confident for your liking, but you couldn’t ignore the way his words made your pulse trip a little faster. You narrowed your eyes at him. I swear to god, if you make a stripper joke right now—

Hey, I’m just respecting the integrity of the game. You shoved at his chest, laughing, but the motion just made your hips grind into his, and whatever grin he’d had faltered immediately. His hands gripped your waist like he needed the grounding, like he was holding on to the last sliver of control, and when you looked at him again, really looked, you realized how thin the line was beneath all the jokes. He was flushed, breathless, jaw tight like he was holding himself back with both hands and losing the grip second by second. Okay, he murmured, voice dangerously quiet now. Tell me if you want me to stop. You didn’t even hesitate. I want you to keep going.

The shift was subtle but irreversible. His hand slid under your waistband, the heat of him stealing into the place you’d started to ache, his fingers moving slow, deliberate, teasing. You gasped, clutching at his shoulder, your cuffed wrists making the angle awkward but not impossible, and Chris groaned softly at the sound of you breaking again. You’re so wet, he whispered, eyes locked to yours. Fuck. Was it me or the gel? You couldn’t answer, not properly.

Does it matter? He smiled then, slow and devastating, like he knew the answer, like he didn’t care either way, and bent to kiss the edge of your jaw, trailing his mouth down to your neck. It’s the game, he whispered, against your pulse. It’s definitely the game, you echoed, even as your head tipped back, hips rocking into the press of his hand.

Neither of you believed it anymore.

Chris didn’t rush and that was the part that undid you, really—not the heat, not the jokes, not even the cuffs biting gently into your skin. It was the fact that, once he had you squirming and gasping and whispering his name through your teeth, he slowed down. Like he wanted to feel every second of it, like he'd been dying to do this and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity by rushing through the best part. His fingers stroked low, slow, maddening, just enough to tease, to draw that unbearable ache into something sharp and consuming, but not enough to tip you over, and the whole time, his mouth never left your skin. He kissed the hollow of your throat like it was sacred, licked just below your ear like he wanted to ruin you with subtlety, not force as you tangled your hands in the front of his shirt, or tried to, the cuffs making it awkward, ridiculous, but somehow more intimate, like even your restraint was shared now. I can’t— you gasped, hips bucking up against his hand, —I can’t think when you do that. Chris just smiled against your neck. Good.

Asshole.

Yeah. He glanced up at you, his expression half-wrecked and fully focused. But I’m your asshole right now, aren’t I?

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out, wild and breathless, and Chris grinned against your skin like he’d scored a point. It wasn’t supposed to be funny, none of this was supposed to be anything, you were supposed to be planning a party, you were supposed to be friends, but here you were—his fingers inside you now, slow and careful, coaxing little moans out of your mouth like he’d found a new language and wanted to learn every word. You rocked into his hand without thinking, chasing friction, chasing him, and it hit you all over again: this was Chris. Your Chris, the same one who’d spent years making fun of your terrible coffee habits and sending you cursed memes at 3 a.m, the one who'd picked you up from your worst dates and made you laugh until you cried, and now he was here, in your space, in your body, undoing you with a touch that felt more reverent than reckless.

You caught his eye again, dark, heated, a little stunned, and something in both of you slipped. You should try something, you whispered, trying to find steady ground and failing. You know. For science. Chris cocked an eyebrow, fingers curling just right. Are you offering?

I mean… Your breath hitched. We have, like, an entire box to get through. He kissed you once, slow and hot, then pulled back with a crooked smile. That’s true. Wouldn’t want to waste the budget. You half-laughed, half-moaned, and reached awkwardly for the box with your limited range of motion, dragging it closer along the counter with the heel of your hand. Chris kept his fingers moving—lazy, deliberate—while you fumbled through plastic-wrapped nonsense and tiny bottles with blurry labels. You found something round, neon pink, and utterly confusing.

Chris tilted his head, gaze fixed on the object in your hand like it was a riddle he didn’t want to solve, the teasing grin still there. Honestly? I have no fucking clue. His voice was soft, but the words had weight, like you were both caught in something that was spinning too fast for either of you to control. You squinted at the tag, still not quite believing what you were reading. Vibrating tongue ring. You said it with the same detached humor you tried to put into the rest of this ridiculous situation, but you both knew this wasn’t just a joke anymore. A heavy silence hung between you, and then—

Oh, absolutely not, Chris said, his grin widening into something darker, more dangerous, like he was daring you to make him. You stared at him, biting back a grin that threatened to spill over, fighting against the absurdity of the moment. You scared?

I’m not putting that anywhere near my mouth after it’s been in this box, he muttered, half-disgusted, half-amused, but even through the playful refusal, you felt that edge still there, like every word was tinged with something deeper. You waggled it at him, voice mock-serious. The people demand sacrifice. It was a silly thing to say, and yet it felt true, felt right in the moment, like you were playing a role in something far larger than either of you had intended.

He leaned in again, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin before his lips pressed softly against the corner of your mouth. He pulled back just enough to whisper, They’ll have to settle for this. The words were barely there, a soft promise that you couldn’t ignore, and for just a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just him, just that kiss, just the breathless, burning tension between you.

And then, in a move that was so deliberate, so intentional, the joke fell away entirely. The playful mockery dissolved in your throat, swallowed up by the desperate, strangled sound that left you instead, a sound that was more real than anything that had come before it. The touch of his hand, the way he shifted his weight against you, the heat of him pressing so close—nothing about this was a game anymore. You clung to his shirt like it was the only thing holding you together, your chest tight with need, your voice barely a whisper when you managed to force out the only thing you could say. More.

He kissed you like he heard that word on a deeper frequency, like it wasn’t just a request but a revelation, something he’d been waiting for without realizing it. His fingers slid out of you slowly, deliberately, dragging slick down your thigh as he leaned back, breath still shallow. You watched him through the haze, chest heaving, pulse pounding in your ears like it was trying to keep up with the sudden, disjointed rhythm of everything inside you. He looked wrecked, flushed and wild and barely tethered, the pink plastic cuff still dangling between you both like the world’s worst and most brilliant joke. You were sitting on the edge of your kitchen counter, jeans undone, lips kiss-bruised, thighs parted for your best friend and somehow, impossibly, it wasn’t weird.

Chris’s hands slid to your hips, gripping gently but with that quiet, coiled strength he always carried around like an afterthought. His gaze flicked over you, like he was memorizing, like something in him had shifted and he couldn’t quite pretend otherwise. And then, with zero warning, he grabbed one of the novelty bottles from the box, the tiny one labeled sensation enhancer: edible and held it up between you with a half-smirk. You dared me to try something, he said, still breathless, still flushed. You narrowed your eyes. That’s technically not edible in public. He popped the cap with his teeth and raised an eyebrow. So good thing we’re not in public.

And just like that, you were laughing again, high and unsteady and so far past the point of return that nothing felt real anymore. Chris dipped his finger into the gel, held your eyes, and then dragged it slowly, teasingly, over the inside of your thigh. Not where you wanted him, not quite, but enough to make you jolt, to hiss, to shudder. The gel was cold at first, then warmer, then impossibly hot, and you gasped, clutching his wrist like that could slow him down. Still funny? he asked, voice low and nearly smug.

Shut up, you breathed, already falling apart. He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours, his voice a thread of heat. Make me. You did. You kissed him like it was the only language left in your mouth, tangled and hungry and real as his hands slid back into your jeans, tugging them past your legs with just enough care not to rush, and you lifted your body to help him, legs shaking slightly. He paused only long enough to press one more kiss to the inside of your knee, soft and slow, and then he looked up at you, eyes heavy-lidded, reverent. You could see it on his face now—the shift, the way he was no longer pretending it was the game, or the chocolate, or the bottle in his hand. This wasn’t a joke anymore, this was you, and him, and a choice. He kissed up your thigh, slow and devastating, and your hands shook where they gripped the counter behind you. Still okay? he murmured and you nodded, voice barely there. Yeah.

Still the game? You didn’t answer. Neither did he.

He just kept going.

The moment he dropped to his knees, something in your chest cracked wide open, like the heat between you wasn’t just a slow burn anymore, but a kind of collapse. You were breathless, legs parting instinctively as Chris settled between them, his hands firm on your thighs, grounding you while everything else spun and his mouth hovered, not quite touching, his breath a warm tease over where you needed him most. You were still mostly dressed—jeans bunched awkwardly around your feet, shirt rucked up just enough to bare your stomach—but it didn’t matter. You felt exposed, devoured, like he was already tasting you just by looking.

His lips brushed against your inner thigh again, deliberate now, slower than before. You realize, he murmured, voice dragging low across your skin, this is gonna ruin all our future game nights. You let out a shaky laugh, the sound brittle with want. Only if we tell anyone. Chris chuckled, quiet, dark, and pressed a kiss just beside where you throbbed, still not giving in. You gonna keep it a secret?

He looked up, eyes hooded, lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. I could. Don't want to.

You weren’t sure if he meant the kiss, or the fact that your best friend was currently peeling your underwear down your legs with the same care he gave delicate electronics and bad injuries, measured, focused, unshakable, but you didn’t ask, you couldn’t. Because then he did kiss you there, properly this time, and everything inside you tilted like the room had gone off-axis. The sensation enhancer burned slow and deep, a creeping heat that made every pass of his tongue feel supernatural, unreal. He moved carefully at first, like he was listening to your body more than anything else, adjusting the rhythm of his mouth to every twitch, every breathless curse, every time you gasped his name without meaning to.

You’d imagined this before, more than once, in weak moments, when sleep wouldn’t come and the memory of his laugh had stayed in your chest too long, but nothing about those fantasies had prepared you for the real thing. Chris was good at this, almost too good, confident, thorough, unhurried, like he'd dreamed it too and was determined to get it right.

Your cuffed hands clawed at the counter behind you, desperate for something to hold on to, because your legs had already stopped obeying commands. You could hear yourself falling apart, the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth, your breath catching with every pass of his tongue over your clit, the muffled curses you kept trying to swallow and couldn’t, the heat from the gel had spread now, pooled deep in your core, and every time he moaned against you—like he was the one losing control—you swore you saw stars.

Chris, you breathed, broken and unsure if it was a warning or a plea. He hummed into you, the sound low and guttural. Say it again. You whimpered. Chris—fuck—please. His grip on your thighs tightened. Tell me what you want. You bit down on your lip, hips stuttering against his mouth. Don’t stop.

He didn’t.

His mouth stayed locked on you, wet and filthy, tongue flicking, curling, fucking you through every twitch and roll of pleasure until the pressure finally broke and when it did, it shattered you. The orgasm hit hard, violent, your back jerking clean off the counter as your whole body seized around the sharp, dizzy heat of it, his name torn out of your throat over and over, wrecked and hoarse, until there was nothing left but the sound of your own ragged breathing. Still, he didn’t stop, not until your legs were shaking around his head, not until your body sagged back against the counter, spent and soaked, your mind stripped clean, eyes glassy and lost.

And then—then—he pulled back, chin slick, pupils blown, and looked at you like he’d just climbed out of a dream and couldn’t believe it was still happening. You were boneless, ruined, barely able to sit up, but you still reached for him, awkward and tangled and desperate to feel more. Chris smiled, breathless, and stood, dragging you in by the cuffs until your foreheads met again. So, he murmured, nudging your nose with his, I think we need to give this party box a five-star review. You laughed, wrecked and breathless. We haven’t even gotten to the toys yet. Chris kissed you again, slow, deep, reverent. Then I guess we’ve got work to do.

Chris kissed you like he hadn’t just pulled you apart with his mouth. Like he wanted to start again from scratch, rebuild you slowly this time, piece by shaky piece, his lips were hot and unhurried, his hands still wrapped around your waist, guiding you off the counter with a care that bordered on reverence. Your legs barely held you, shaky, wobbly from the come-down, but he caught you, steadied you, murmured something soft against your temple that sounded suspiciously like got you. And for a second, in the quiet hum of the apartment, you let yourself rest there, half-dressed and cuffed, your breath syncing with his like it had always been meant to.

But then Chris glanced toward the living room. The couch, wide, soft. Closer than the bedroom but far enough from the kitchen to pretend you were making a more responsible decision. He raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a grin. We’re not stopping here, right? You scoffed, chest still heaving. Do I look like I’m in any condition to walk? His arms slid under your thighs and back in one clean motion. Good thing I work out.You yelped as he lifted you, laughing into the crook of his neck. You are so full of shit.

He grinned, carrying you bridal-style through the apartment with an ease that was so Chris—half cocky, half chaotic, and entirely unbothered by the fact that your jeans were still around your ankles and you were cuffed like a tragic bachelorette party prop. He dropped you on the couch with too much enthusiasm, and you bounced once, landing in a sprawl that made you laugh again, limbs everywhere, your shirt riding up your ribs before kicking the fabric stuck to your feet. You’re lucky I’m too weak to kick you.

You’re lucky I didn’t just drop you.

Debatable. Chris dropped down beside you, legs spread wide, one arm thrown lazily along the back of the couch, but the second you sat up to face him, straddling his lap with your bound wrists tucked under his jaw, the energy shifted again, still playful, still ridiculous, but hotter now, closer. You could feel him under you, hard through his jeans, and the friction when you settled down against him made both of you stutter.

His hands gripped your hips like he was trying to be casual and failing spectacularly. So… we’re still blaming the game, right? You rolled your hips just once, slow and experimental, and watched his breath catch. Obviously. He groaned, dragging his hands up under your shirt to grip your waist properly. This is such a bad idea. You rocked again, deliberately now, and his head fell back against the couch. Yeah, but it’s fun.

The grinding continued slow, the kind of slow that felt more like teasing than relief, your hips rolling down against his in loose, clumsy drags, both of you laughing under your breath one second, gasping the next when the friction caught just right. It was filthy, uncoordinated, desperate, the kind of dry-humping that belonged to backseats and dark corners, all hunger and no patience, your bodies clashing together with clothes still hopelessly in the way. His hands locked tight around your thighs, fingers bruising at the curve of them, dragging you harder onto the thick bulge straining behind his jeans. You could feel the solid shape of him pressing against you, the rough seam hitting your clit with every rock of your hips, each brush sparking another low, breathless moan into the sloppy kiss he caught your mouth with.

His lips wouldn’t stay still, greedy and wandering, wet kisses trailing from your mouth to your jaw, your throat, then back again, like he couldn’t decide where to taste first, like he couldn’t get enough of your skin on his tongue. The heat between you bloomed faster than either of you could keep up with, the damp ache soaking through his pants, through the layers between you, and you couldn’t stop, couldn’t even slow down. Each grind made you hungrier for the next, chasing the high you could feel slipping just out of reach every time your hips lifted, only to crash down again even harder.

You feel that? he rasped against your mouth, voice so tight it barely held shape. How wet you are? The words were wrecked, shameless, his mouth brushing over the corner of yours, teeth catching on your bottom lip and you could only nod, dragging yourself against him, desperate and shaking. I can’t stop. His hands locked down on your thighs, pulling you in even closer, and the kiss that followed was messier than the rest, teeth knocking, breath tangled, a sound ripped straight from his chest like he was already half gone. Don’t.

You dry-humped him like a pair of kids too horny to know better, or too far gone to care, slow, grinding friction that bordered on unbearable, his cock thick and straining beneath his jeans, yours soaking though the fabric, every shift of your body sending sharp little jolts down your spine. Every time your clit caught on the seam of his fly, your breath punched out of you in broken gasps, the heat building so fast it made your vision blur. His voice cracked against your ear, breath coming harder now, hips twitching up beneath you. You’re gonna make me come in my fucking jeans.

The confession hit like a shock, sharp and hot, your whole body tightening in response. You bit down a moan, rolling your hips again, slower this time, crueler. Not unless I beat you to it. His mouth crushed against your shoulder, a low, helpless groan rumbling through him like the threat of breaking. This is the best fucking game night ever. You could barely manage the breath to answer, your body too wound up, too focused on the tight, obscene friction building faster and faster with every drag of your hips. Yeah, you whispered, voice shaking, and you meant it. God, you meant it.

And then somewhere between the breathless laughter and the cursing and the dizzy, relentless pace of your grinding, the air changed, the heat crested too high, the game tipped too far, and suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. It was raw, it was real, you shifted a little too hard, hips driving down against the hard line of his cock, the friction tipping straight from playful to punishing, and the sound he made wasn’t a laugh this time—it was a choke, a curse, a warning.

Chris stilled beneath you, his hands flexing hard around your hips like the only thing keeping him from snapping was the sheer effort of holding on as his forehead dropped to yours, breath sharp and shallow, voice so low it barely made sound. I’m gonna lose it. You could feel him throb through the denim, every twitch against you making your pulse skip, your body tightening around the weight of it. You moved, just once, slow and deliberate, grinding down in one long, aching roll of your hips. Then lose it.

His eyes snapped open, wide and dark, searching your face for any trace of doubt, and when he didn’t find it, when you only nodded, heartbeat sitting like a lump in your throat, something in him broke. His hands moved, sliding up under your shirt, fingers dragging against bare skin, slow and reverent, like he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory. The ache of him pressed hard between your legs, trapped behind denim and cotton, hot and heavy and so fucking real, and when he kissed you again, rough, deep, no more jokes, no more games, it felt like something sharp split you wide open.

His fingers fumbled at his jeans, urgent and clumsy, yanking at the button, the zipper, trying to free himself without pushing you off. You couldn’t help, your wrists still bound and useless between you, so you just leaned in, caught his mouth in another kiss, teeth dragging on his lip, swallowing the growl that rumbled through him when he finally shoved his boxers down and freed his cock, flushed and leaking, the head slick and desperate. You looked down, breath catching in your throat, stomach flipping, because this wasn’t almost anymore—this was happening, this was real.

Are you— The question barely made it past his lips, voice cracking on the edges, raw and fraying apart from the inside out. Yes. The word broke sharp from your mouth before he could finish, your body already moving, your hips shifting in one slow, trembling roll, lining yourself up, the head of his cock pressing flush against your dripping heat. Your hands were useless, still bound at the wrists between your bodies, but you didn’t need them, the rest of you was already leaning into him, shaking, bracing, drunk on the sharp, staggering ache of what was about to happen. Are you?

Chris looked at you like you’d knocked the air from his lungs, his eyes wide, black with hunger, the last scraps of control fraying away under your stare. His head gave the smallest nod, jaw clenching so tight it shook his voice when it finally pushed free. God, yes.

His hands caught your hips the moment you started to sink down, fingers clutching hard enough to bruise, steadying you as your body slowly gave in to him, inch by inch. The stretch burned, sharp and deep and unrelenting, your body fighting the intrusion and begging for more in the same breath, muscles clenching down, struggling to adjust as he opened you up. Your breath shattered against his shoulder, the softest, sharpest gasp catching in your throat, and the cuffs clinked between you with every tremor as you fought for balance.

Chris groaned, the sound broken and hoarse, his head falling back against the couch as his cock pushed deeper, splitting you apart in the sweetest, filthiest way. He was so thick it made your head spin, the dull ache blooming into something close to unbearable, but you didn’t stop, couldn’t, your fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt, your whole body shaking, barely hanging on as you sank the last few desperate inches until you were fully seated, the base of him pressed tight against you, buried so deep it felt like he lived there, like you were built for this exact kind of stretch. You couldn’t move, not yet.

The air felt too heavy to breathe, the moment too sharp to survive, your heart pounding wild and frantic behind your ribs. His hands smoothed up your back, slow, reverent, as though the motion alone could anchor you both, as though he was still trying to convince himself this was real. Your foreheads met, slick and trembling, and the only thing either of you could do was hold on, suspended between the ache and the heat, caught in the weight of the moment.

You okay? he whispered, voice ragged, like speaking hurt. You nodded, throat tight, the words barely squeezing free. Yeah. You? Chris huffed a sound, half a broken laugh, half a low, desperate groan. His thumb traced slow circles at the small of your back, grounding both of you in the quiet, in the way your bodies fit together so perfectly it was almost cruel. I’ve wanted this for so long, I don’t even know what okay is anymore.

You kissed him before he could say another word, lips catching his, slow but hungry, your body pulsing around the thick weight of him still stretched deep inside you. And then, when the ache softened just enough, you started to move.

The first roll of your hips was careful, tentative, your body adjusting to the impossible stretch all over again as you lifted and sank, grinding in slow, tight circles. Every shift sent new shocks of pleasure through your spine, heat tightening low in your belly, the friction a perfect, aching tease and Chris hissed, his mouth dragging across your jaw, your shoulder, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, fingers digging deep into soft flesh as though he could hold you there, make you stay, make the moment last longer. Fuck, baby, he breathed against your neck, voice falling apart with every word. You feel so fucking good—you’re so warm, so tight—fuck.

The way he said baby made your stomach twist, sharp and sweet and dangerous, and you didn’t call him on it, didn’t tease, didn’t joke, didn’t breathe a word about how much you liked it. You just moved again, grinding your hips harder this time, letting the angle shift until the thick head of him pressed flush against that deep, sensitive spot that made your mouth fall open, a moan breaking free before you could swallow it down. His hips twitched up, chasing the friction, building a rhythm between you that made the couch groan beneath your bodies, every thrust a little more reckless than the last. Your cuffed hands curled into his chest, needing something, anything, to cling to while your body threatened to fly apart. Your thighs trembled with every bounce, sweat slicking your skin, your breath nothing but gasps and broken sounds against his mouth.

Chris’s voice wrecked itself on the next moan, a helpless, hoarse string of curses whispered straight into your ear. You feel unreal. You’re gonna kill me. You’re so fucking tight, I can’t—shit—I’m not gonna last. You clenched around him on purpose, the sharp squeeze pulling a gasp from his throat so raw it sounded almost like a sob. His fingers bruised into your hips, holding you still, his self-control snapping by threads. Don’t, he warned, voice dark and shaking. Don’t do that unless you want me to lose my fucking mind.

Your lips brushed his, voice barely a whisper. What if I do?

His eyes met yours, and the shift that had been happening, slow and creeping, winding around the edges of your friendship for months finally snapped its teeth. He wasn’t just fucking you, he wasn’t just lost in the moment, or the heat, or the years of tension finally unraveling. He was having you, all of you, slowly, completely, like he wasn’t going to stop until he’d memorized every sound, every twitch, every single piece of you that would give itself up under his hands. And the truth was, you didn’t want him to stop, not now. Not ever.

You moved together, tangled and desperate, until the line between pain and pleasure blurred, until the room disappeared, until the only things that existed were his hands, his mouth, the heat building between your bodies, the stretch of him inside you, slow and thick and deep. Time didn’t matter, nothing did when Chris’s grip on your hips was bruising, his hands dragging you down, forcing you to take every inch, every slow, deep stroke until you felt like you were being split apart. His head was tipped back, mouth slack, brow pinched in the kind of concentration that only ever shattered at the very end and you could feel how close he was, the way his cock twitched inside you, the way his breath hitched every time your body clenched around him, instinctive and greedy. Fuck, baby, he rasped, voice wrecked, barely able to get the words out. I'm so—

But you already knew, you could feel it in the way he started to thrust harder, sharper, losing the smooth rhythm in favor of something more desperate, more broken as you met him, hips rolling down to meet each thrust, grinding when he bottomed out, tightening around him until he groaned so deep it vibrated against your chest. Your own orgasm had been coiling for minutes, strung tight on the edge, your clit aching from the relentless friction, your whole body tense and trembling, teetering on the brink. And when he shifted just right, the angle a little sharper, the thrust a little deeper, it hit, sharp and unforgiving, your muscles locking down around him as the pleasure rolled over you, thick and hot and endless.

The cry tore from your throat before you could stop it, high and broken and raw, and your body clenched around him so tight he swore, a breathless, hoarse plea of your name as his hips jerked up one last time, burying himself deep, holding there, locked to the hilt as he came. You could feel it, the hot pulse of him spilling inside you, thick and messy, filling you until the slickness dripped back out around the base of him, your bodies so wet and filthy it only pushed your own pleasure higher, leaving you shaking and gasping against his shoulder. Chris held you there, both of you wrecked and spent, his hands smoothing over your back with a tenderness that didn’t match the filthy mess between your thighs, the slow, warm trickle of him still leaking from where he was buried deep inside you.

Neither of you moved for a long moment, you just stayed, still joined, bodies locked together, hearts pounding in the same wild rhythm and let the aftershocks bleed through your bones, through your skin, through the space between you that wasn’t really space at all anymore. And then, out of nowhere, Chris muttered, I think I got glitter on my dick. You blinked, pulled back just enough to look at him, and sure enough—there it was. A faint shimmer, low on his stomach. From the untouched glitter lotion, the bachelorette tiara? Who the hell knew anymore.

You started laughing, the kind of laugh that spilled out reckless and unfiltered, all loose limbs and spent lungs, too empty and too full at the same time. It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t soft, it wasn’t even a choice, it just tore through you, bubbling up from the wreck of your chest until your whole body trembled with it, half from the aftershocks still rippling through your muscles, half from the sheer absurdity of the scene laid out in front of you. The room was trashed, your bodies were worse, everything sticky and tangled and stained with sweat and the kind of mess that would cling to your skin long after the sun came up.

God, you wheezed, forehead dropping against his shoulder, the curve of his neck still damp and warm against your cheek, we’re gonna have to sanitize the apartment. Chris let out a broken sound, a laugh, but worn thin, the edges frayed and heavy, like it hurt to pull it out of himself. His chest shook under you, arms still looped lazily around your waist, fingers tracing slow, thoughtless patterns against your bare skin. Sanitize? he echoed, voice rasping through the word. Baby, we’re gonna have to burn it down.

You stilled. Your lips quirked slow, teeth sinking into the swell of your bottom lip as you lifted your head, meeting his eyes—those wide, dark, still slightly dazed eyes—and let the silence stretch, let the weight of that one unintentional slip sink into the air between you. Baby, huh? you teased, voice syrup-sweet, tilting your head just enough to watch him squirm. You really are soft for me. Chris groaned, dragging a hand over his face, scrubbing it back through his damp hair, like he could physically wipe the word out of existence. But his mouth was twitching, fighting a smile he was too worn out to win against. Shut up, he muttered, but the color creeping up his neck gave him away.

You grinned wider, the taste of it still sitting sweet and smug on your tongue. Not sorry about it, are you? He didn’t answer at first, just exhaled slow, dragging his thumb lazily along the inside of your thigh, his gaze trailing the movement like he was memorizing the shape of you all over again. His voice was lower when it came, soft and unshaken this time. Nope, he said simply. Not even a little.

You let the silence settle again, heavier now, not awkward, just thick, charged, like the current between you hadn’t dulled at all, even with your bodies spent and the last threads of your clothes hanging crooked, half-peeled off. His hands were still on you, your wrists were still cuffed, the metal biting red rings into your skin, and neither of you had made a single move to fix it. Speaking of, you hummed, flexing your fingers in front of his face, the cuffs jingling like some ridiculous badge of honor, you planning on letting me go or am I your prisoner now?

Chris blinked like he’d forgotten entirely. Honestly… he drawled, lips twitching, I kinda like you restrained. You arched a brow, breath hitching in something that wasn’t quite a laugh. Christopher. His fingers slipped up to the latch, slow and a little reluctant, and when the metal finally popped open, your hands dropped free, sore, tingling, but missing the weight almost instantly. Before you could pull away, he caught them, turned your palms up, and pressed his mouth to your wrists, once, twice, slow and unhurried, lips brushing the tender skin like it was some private ritual only he understood.

You let him, you let him even when your pulse jumped under his mouth, even when your throat ached with words you weren’t ready to say. Because the second he let your hands go, the second you shifted to climb off his lap, your legs rubbery and trembling and nowhere near trustworthy, his hand wrapped around yours again, anchoring you back, his thumb swept slow over the same angry little cuff-mark on your wrist, the gesture too gentle for the way he’d wrecked you minutes ago. So… he started, voice light, too casual, like he could bluff his way past what just happened, we’re still calling this a test run, right?

You snorted, staggering to your feet, steadying yourself against the back of the couch while your body remembered how to exist without him inside you. Your hips ached, your thighs were sticky and sore, and you could feel his cum leaking down your legs, messy and warm, dripping onto the floor as you shuffled toward the kitchen. You tossed a look over your shoulder, half-laughing. Sure. Let’s call it that.

But the second you turned away, you felt it, the way his eyes tracked you, the weight of his stare dragging over the stretch of your back, the bruises blooming along your throat, the way your knees buckled slightly every few steps. You heard the couch shift, his soft exhale behind you, and then his voice again, quiet this time, like a confession.

Need help, baby?. It slipped out before he could catch it. raw, unfiltered, like it belonged to you now. You paused, the glass you’d been reaching for still dangling from your fingertips, and glanced back at him, smile slow and sharp as a blade. Again? you teased, head cocking to one side. You’re really leaning into it, huh? Chris didn’t flinch, his gaze held steady, no panic this time, just calm and sure and worn thin with the truth.

Yeah, he said, voice steady, lips quirking into the softest, smallest smile. And I’m not taking it back.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[3:11 pm]

(cw: f!reader, pregnant reader)

"Hi everyone!" You smile at the camera you've propped up, "Jae and I did some shopping today and we want to do a little unboxing."

Jaehyun rests his chin on your shoulder, watching as you bring the collection of small boxes into the view of the camera. "We were supposed to go baby shopping, but this one got distracted by these weird little toys so we got some," he grumbles, bringing a soft hand to the bottom of your bump.

"We did do baby shopping! We got some clothes and burp clothes and some little socks! We even ordered the crib today!" You counter while turning to look at him. You smile at the camera, "but I've been seeing these all over social media so I wanted to get a couple boxes of each one. We have some Sonny Angels and some Smiskis."

You grab one of the boxes and hand another to Jaehyun. His eyes scan the box, looking at the options on the side. He hears you say, "I want either the pineapple or the peach for my peach boy."

He blushes as you press your lips to his cheek lovingly, "I want the strawberry since you've been eating them nonstop since you got pregnant."

You both open the boxes and pull out the foil bags, he opens his first and frowns, "what the hell is this thing? Why is it spiky?"

Your laugh rings out, "awwww, I think it's a durian. It's cute, honey. Ok, well I got..." You rip open the bag and cheer excitedly, "awww, I got the strawberry!"

"Baby, why are they naked?" he questions with his brows furrowed.

You shrug your shoulders while handing him another box, "I don't make them, Jaehyun. Look at the little faces though, oh my god, I want a hundred more of them. Alright, sorry, these are the Smiskis."

"They look like boogers with faces," Jaehyun mumbles while he turns the box in his hands.

You snort, "these are from the living series. I want... I want the one with the pillow. Which one do you want, honey?"

"I kinda like the one with the flute," Jaehyun replies while opening the box.

This time you open yours first, you smile and coo at the little figure with a cat. You set it up beside the two Sonny Angels while Jaehyun opens his bag. He makes a noise of confusion when he sees the mini figurine, "this one wasn't an option, what is this?"

He holds up the green toy, with its arm out and a flower head. Your eyes scan over the side of the package, "it's not even an option- wait, I think you got the secret one."

"You have weird taste in toys, baby. I mean these two are naked with fruit heads and these two look like messed up boogers," Jaehyun shakes his head, rubbing the swell of your stomach over the soft cotton of your shirt.

You roll your eyes, "whatever, I think we should get more. Thanks for watching!" You reach to stop the video and turn to Jaehyun with a pout. You bat your lashes up at him, "can we go back?"

"We got home an hour ago!" Jaehyun laughs loudly, pressing a kiss to your forehead through his smile.

"Don't you love me? Don't you want me to be happy? The baby wants more toys, are you going to deny your daughter a toy? Before she's even born?" You ask him in an accusatory tone.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back. His hand gently massages your lower back as you lean into him, pressing your chin into his chest. If you had him wrapped around your pretty finger he couldn't imagine how much his daughter would get away with when she was born.

"Different boxes this time?" he asks tiredly. Your happy dance and excited cheers are enough to have him feeling reenergized as he guides you to the couch to rest, with a bowl of strawberries, before he grabs his keys and makes his way out again.

[bu99erfly]

2024 RECAP – MY TOP 18 ARTISTS (playlist + list of artists under the cut)

MY TOP 18 ARTISTS + TOP SONG FROM EACH ARTIST 1. SZA – Snooze / 2. Victoria Monét – Touch Me / 3. Tyla – Truth or Dare / 4. FLO – Caught Up / 5. Tinashe – Nasty (No.1 Song) / 6. Beyoncé – Bodyguard / 7. Chappell Roan – Good Luck, Babe! / 8. aespa – Supernova / 9. Rachel Chinouriri – So My Darling / 10. Sabrina Carpenter – Bed Chem / 11. Red Velvet – Cosmic / 12. Charli xcx – 360 / 13. Jae Stephens – Body Favors / 14. YVES – LOOP / 15. ARTMS – Virtual Angel / 16. Doechii – Alter Ego / 17. Loossemble – Confessions / 18. Chuu – Strawberry Rush + HONORABLE MENTIONS: Megan Thee Stallion & Raveena PLAYLIST (3 hours of my top and fav songs of this year): apple music / spotify

[wonryllis]

ENHYPEN AS KINDS OF LOVE.

────𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇.

𓋜 enha as love in the form of words ㅤ. .ㅤ𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑡ㅤㅤ𓍼ㅤㅤ𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛 & fluff ࣪  ㅤ˖ ㅤ𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑ㅤㅤ৲ lowercase intended ㅤ. ⠀𓈃 ๋ ㅤ𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠

( yeonie.notes ) please show lots of love, 1592wc. fem!centered. FEEDBACKS & REBLOGS WOULD BE REALLY APPRECIATED.

꒰⠀hee⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀seung.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i know baby, you don't have to say anything' kind of love. the guy who can read even your silence. heeseung looks at you more than anything in his world, he knows you more than you know yourself. he remembers everything about you from the brand of your conditioner to the friends you don't talk to. if there's anyone who can see right through you even in the worst of times, it's him. your comfort in a bustling town. to him love lies in the little details, in understanding what can not be understood, in the language of the eyes.

"heeseung i really-" you squeal walking into the shop as he holds the door open, "want a strawberry and cream frappuccino? i know baby," his words form a smile on your face, one that lights up your eyes, one that heeseung mirrors his heart all giddy and warm. "then i'll be at-" looking around the interior you turn back to him, "the table by the window, i know baby," giggling at how well he knows what you like, you press a tiny kiss on his cheeks,"i'll be waiting!" i'll be waiting he mouths at the same time as you walk further away, grinning idiotically before the cashier snaps him back.

꒰⠀jong⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀seong.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'dont worry, i will take care of it for you' kind of love. the guy who doesn't let you lift a finger. to him you're the princess that doesnt have to do anything. your every wish and your every desire is a goal for him to accomplish. the beaming happiness on your face when you get what you want is the source of his joy. the feeling of coming home yet discovering new places you never knew of: places filled with more sunny days. your warmth in a cold winter. to him love lies in the willingness to give endlessly, in being connected by actions, in prioritizing you.

"jay, it broke!" before your whine can even bounce off the walls jay is there right behind you, "don't worry princess, i'll fix it, come here sit on my lap," his hands move delicately as he sews the broken butterfly pin holding your blouse together. "you need to be gentle while putting it on okay?" he reminds you softly as his thumb wipes off the tears threatening to spill from your eyes at having almost ruined your favourite outfit. "can we have some ice cream cake later?" you ask closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips leaving a kiss on top of each one, "you have a cold so only a little bit, alright?"

꒰⠀jae⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀yun.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i gotta kiss you before you leave' kind of love. the guy who gotta show how much he loves you. your companion in every event from family dinners to office parties sim jaeyun is the man of your life and man of your dreams. if ever you need to go alone, he waits for you, roaming around the area and picking up your favourite food. for him it is absolutely necessary to express his feelings regardless of your surroundings and regardless of the situation. your star in an empty sky. to him love lies in the small moments, in the little kisses and hugs, in the whispers of words.

"jake what are you doing!" the more you try to wiggle out of jake's arms the tighter they get, "don't you think you're forgetting something, my love?" your repeated slaps against his hands are in no vain with the way his lips find the crook of your neck leaving fluttering kisses down to your collarbone. "my goodnight kiss when will i get it?" more than the words spoken you gasp at the way he stops whispering, "we are supposed to be sleeping in different rooms! stop it before my parents find us!" "well it's nothing they don't know, i love their daughter too much."

꒰⠀sung⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀hoon.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'stay there, i'm coming to get you' kind of love. the guy who is always a call away. be it in the middle of the day or at the break of dawn, if you need him, he's always there. needs to see you safe and healthy to able to breathe in peace. if it so happens that you are hurt, he turns the hospital upside down. it's you and him against the world, let's you know that he'll be the one to stay even if everyone else leaves. your pillar in a pile of debris. to him love lies in being by your side in every situation, in changing your restless into calm, in the compromise and accomodation for another.

"sunghoon? i feel weird," your words slur into the phone and sunghoon immediately knows something's wrong. "angel, what's wrong? i'll be there in five, don't move from the bed okay?" there inside your apartment unit he finds an empty bottle of medicine containing ethanol. "my prey is here!" squealing, you hop off the bed and scurry over to sunghoon, "angel you shouldn't consume drugs so carelessly," he scolds, picking you up when you jump on him. giving in to your puckered lips he leaves a wet kiss before pushing a finger against your forehead. "now lets sleep off the intoxication,"

꒰⠀sun⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀woo.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i believe in you, you can do it' kind of love. the guy who inspires you to be the best version of yourself. in his world there is no giving up and there is no going back. teaches you to take a step even when it feels like nothing is going right. helps you focus on the present, nurturing a mind guided by reason and heart. it is important to him that you do what you love and you do it with courage. your strength in a harsh society. to him love lies in the encouragement, in the pushes out of comfort zone, in a cheer amidst a silent crowd.

"sunoo, what if i fail?" your hands tremble as you wait backstage in the conference hall, scared to mess up your first paper presentation. sunoo pulls you into a hug that feels homely, softer than ever, "trust yourself bubs, i know you'll do well. you wanted to do this since forever and you worked so hard for this, remember?" his fingers draw circles on your back and his lips leave a tender kiss on your temple. "even if it's not how you want it to be what matters is you tried. now go on, i'll be waiting." a gentle push, a reminder that he'll be right here to catch you.

꒰⠀jung⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀won.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'baby, how can i make you feel better?' kind of love. the guy who tells you, you're perfect the way you are. with him you never have to put a mask on, you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. late night conversations where he reminds you how much you're worth it even if you're ordinary. because to him you'll always be the most special person: his person seen and appreciated in your own essence. your peace in a chaotic world. to him love lies in the fruit of assurance, in the acceptance of affection, in the positivity to feel life in the simple things.

"jungwon, it's snowing!" the excitement is your voice makes jungwon laugh as he runs out after you with your muffler, coat and socks in his hands. "you need to cover up bunny or you'll catch a cold," the pads of his thumb rub against your cheeks, face craddled between his palms after he has you all wrapped up. "sorry," you giggle cozying up in his hold, it makes jungwon's heart summersault a thousand times,"you look so cute, bare faced and warm cheeks all flushed," the thought of how you have let your walls down around him makes him happy beyond anything,"so perfect,"

꒰⠀ri⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀ki.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i miss you' before you even say bye kind of love. the guy who can not live away from you for too long. shows you there's magic in everyday that goes by with you, in the sunrise from the balcony of your shared apartment, in the little garden you tend to together. the arrow of cupid struck through two at once: where all your moments hold stories to tell. the proof that time together is time cherished. your glitter in a dull canvas. to him love lies in the sync of hearts, in enjoying and mourning life side by side, in not missing a single moment.

"riki what are you doing here?" you're dumbfounded coming eye to eye with riki at the doorstep of your childhood home "i couldn't go another day without you," he says stepping forward to cup your face in his hands and rubbing the tip of your noses in an eskimo kiss. "let's just spend the weekend here and go back together," his forehead falls against yours eyes closed as he wishpers out how bad your absence felt. "ok, let's do that i missed you too," at that riki leaves a quick peck on your lips grinning widely, "let's make some new memories,"

TAGLIST ( open. )

[xomakara]

Perfume

SUMMARY | Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Jungwoo all get a bit too jealous of each other when you have sex with them individually. PAIRING | DoJaeJung/Reader GENRE | smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, wall sex, foursome, dirty talk, praising, jealousy, voyeurism RATING | Mature LENGTH | 8,652 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | I hoped this turned out okay hahahaha. I feel like my writing has gone downhill lately lol Tags - @sleepyvic, @marvelahsobx, @ahgazen @wayvaxis

NCT Main Masterlist

“Fuck, Y/N…” Jaehyun moaned out as you rocked against him. His hands were at your waist, watching the sway of your breasts, the sensual look on your face as you kept up the rhythm that drove him crazy.

You let out a moan as you continued to ride him, your hands on his hard chest feeling every defined muscle underneath. Your nails lightly dug into his skin, drawing blood that mixed with sweat from your bodies. You could hear his breaths getting shorter and shorter.

He was close, he was so close.

You didn’t even care about hearing the guys knocking on Jaehyun’s bedroom door, didn’t even hear Johnny shouting for the both of you to cover up before knocking the door down.

You were feeling good, so very fucking good.

“Jae, please…” You panted, feeling his hands grasp your breast harder. “Please… I want to feel you come in me… Please…”

Your cries were loud enough to be heard outside the room, but you couldn’t care if the others heard you. It felt like it was only you and Jaehyun, no one else mattered. Nothing mattered except the two of you being connected by sex.

Finally, he groaned, giving a final thrust before he came inside of you. You collapsed onto his body, kissing him softly as you rested your head against his shoulder. He held you tight, breathing heavily. He pulled the sheets over the both of you, in preparation of the guys storming their way into the room.

But they never did.

The next thing you knew, you fell asleep, tangled together on Jaehyun’s bed.

When you woke up, you found yourself still on Jaehyun’s bed, your head resting on his pillow. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you closer. The sunlight peeking through the window told you it was well past noon already.

Looking up, you saw him smiling at you sleepily, just staring at you for what seemed like forever. You reached out to cup his cheek, running your thumb across his cheekbone slowly. His smile widened when you traced the contours of his lips. He grabbed onto your hand, gently stroking it, holding your hand there as he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. A small smile graced his lips again as he leaned in, kissing you gently.

And then, he pulled away.

That familiar glint appeared in his eyes once more.

It always returned whenever he looked at you. That soft look of yearning and love.

His fingers ran up and down your arm, stopping on your wrist. With a soft sigh, you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his, not caring who or what would walk in. After all, the light from the window was blinding anyway.

Jaehyun pulled back slightly, bringing your hand to his mouth, biting your palm softly. You giggled quietly as he ran his tongue along your skin. "Mmm...you smell sweet, Y/N... like strawberries."

A soft smile spread across your lips as you intertwined your fingers with his. He slowly pushed you to your back, taking the time to nibble on your earlobe, letting out little hums that made you squirm under him. He kissed your neck, lingering there before moving to trail soft kisses down your collar bone. "Princess, your perfume makes me want to eat you up. Your scent is intoxicating."

You let out a little gasp as his fingers dipped between your legs, teasing your clit. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning. "Jaehyun...again?"

"Yes, again," he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Again and again..."

You breathed in his scent, the heavenly smells of his cologne and the strawberry scented perfume you used created a mix that was impossible to describe. His breath was warm against your skin, his touch hot.

Every touch from him was intoxicating. Every word spoken from his mouth was heavenly.

There was no doubt that you'd smell like him after this. You'd be left with his scent lingering all over you. It would be impossible not to be addicted to him. You'd crave him constantly.

He moved lower, kissing and sucking at each of your collar bones. When he finally moved further down, you let out a moan of pleasure, wanting nothing more than for him to take you. Just fuck you until you screamed out his name. Until you begged for him to do it again and again. You wanted it, needed it, wanted everything that he had to offer.

As he slipped two fingers inside of you, you felt your walls tighten around them, aching for him to push deeper inside of you. His other hand cupped your cheek, pushing you to open your eyes and look at him. Your pupils dilated at the sight of him. He stared deep into your eyes, making you feel special. Making you feel like you were the most important person in the world to him.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly. You nodded. "Good. Because I'm going to make you feel so damn good..."

He parted your legs wider, making sure that your pussy was fully exposed for him. His fingers rubbed your sensitive flesh, circling your clit before brushing your inner walls.

You closed your eyes, whimpering. God, how badly you wanted him to enter you. To fill you up completely.

"I'm going to have my way with you..." He whispered against your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. His teeth gently nipped at your bottom lip before sucking on it, driving you wild. Withdrawing his fingers, he flipped you over so that you were on all fours, the sun's rays now hitting your back. "My naughty princess..."

Slowly, he trailed his fingers down your spine, grazing the sensitive skin as he went. His fingers dug into your hips, spreading your ass cheeks apart for him.

A small moan escaped your throat, pushing your ass higher into the air, inviting him in. You arched your back, exposing your clit to him. Your mind was a blank slate, his touches having an effect on you. There was no thought, no memories, just sensation. Pure, unadulterated sensation.

His hands were at your hips, guiding you, keeping you steady as he rubbed himself against your dripping wet entrance. And then, he slid himself inside of you, filling you completely. You let out a gasp, wanting more. More of his cock, more of his touch, more of his warmth surrounding you.

With every inch he slid into you, you wanted more. You felt his hands move down your sides, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucked you slow and deep. You let out another gasp as he picked up the pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip, his other hand squeezing your breast. You could feel the building pressure in your lower stomach, wanting release. "Jaehyun...oh god…"

He slowed down, withdrawing almost completely out of you. Before pushing back in.

You cried out, the sudden change in speed sending waves of pleasure through your body. He sped up, faster and faster, making you cry out louder and louder. He picked up the pace yet again, leaning down, letting his lips brush against the back of your neck. Having him take you from behind was heavenly. Everything from his slow movements, to the way he gripped your hips, was heaven sent.

"Baby..." He whispered, panting. "You feel amazing..."

He leaned in, grabbing both of your breasts as he continued to pump in and out of you, rubbing his own body against yours, the both of you connected. Your hair was now hanging loose, falling onto your shoulders. Your lips were open, your breath coming in short gasps. You tilted your head back, wanting him to kiss you.

His lips met yours as he increased the pace, slamming himself into you harder. Each thrust caused a loud groan to escape his lips.

Everything about this was pure ecstasy. Every single second was heaven. It was unlike anything you ever experienced. His touch was divine. The sound of his breathing, the taste of his lips, the weight of his body on top of you, it was indescribable. It was beyond words. 

You felt complete. You felt whole.

"Fuck, Jae." You moaned. "I love you so much..."

"Say it again..." He moaned, kissing your neck as he picked up the pace. "Just say it again..."

You tightened your muscles around him, tightening the bond between you. "I love you...I love you so much, Jaehyun..."

"Oh god, I love you too, Y/N..." Jaehyun's grip on your hips got tighter as he began to pound into you, his hips working up and down at a frantic pace. His other hand wrapped around your breast, pinching your nipple. You moaned loudly, bucking your hips against him, meeting his thrusts. "So damn much..."

It took mere seconds for him to lose control. His orgasm racked his entire body as he filled you up with his cum, filling you up with something that made your heart soar. His body trembled as he rested his forehead on your back, letting out a soft moan. He placed gentle kisses on your back, caressing your skin. He wrapped his arms around you, snuggling you against him, kissing your neck tenderly. "I love you, Y/N...so goddamn much."

You woke up hours later, still wrapped in Jaehyun's arms. His face was buried in your neck, inhaling deeply, enjoying your scent. Smelling it with his nose, his tongue lightly lapping at your skin. "Mmmm...baby...smells so good."

You let out a quiet laugh, running your fingers through his messy hair. "Did I ever mention that I love you?"

His laughter rumbled in his chest. "You kept saying it so many times while we were fucking last night..."

"I know...but that doesn't mean I can't say it again." You giggled, shaking your head. "Especially since we're awake right now."

He raised his head, smirking at you. "Mhmm...I'll admit...it does feel good." He moved his lips to yours, planting soft kisses against your soft lips.

"Now, if only you'd stay here...in this bed..." You purred, trailing your fingers up his muscular thighs.

"Not gonna happen, Princess." He smiled, biting down gently on your lower lip. “I think the guys are waiting for us…”

“I know… But… Can we stay like this? Just for a little longer…?” You asked, almost whining, wishing he wouldn’t take his lips off yours.

“And hear Doyoung and Jungwoo complaining my ears off?” He teased. “Babe, I would kill to have sex with you all day and night long but I don't want to incur the wrath of Doyoung and Jungwoo."

"Oh, boo hoo." You frowned, before nipping at his lower lip. "But I can’t help it if I’m so horny for you.”

A low growl escaped Jaehyun's throat as he pinned you to the mattress. You laughed, moving your legs further apart to give him easier access to you.

After taking his fill of your body, he kissed his way back up your neck. When he reached your ear, he whispered, “If you keep doing that, I’ll just have to have you again right now.”

You moaned loudly, pushing your hips against his. He chuckled against your ear, trailing kisses down your jawline. When he finally broke away from you, he smiled lazily, gazing down at you lovingly. “Come on, Princess. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

You groaned. ��Fine, but don’t blame me if I end up fucking the other two later.”

He grinned. “We'll see. Now get up.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you rose to your feet, grabbing his hand to pull him along with you. After freshening up, you opened the door to see Johnny with an exasperated look.

“Y/N, go take care of Doyoung or something.” Johnny muttered, running a hand through his hair. “The man has been depressed that you locked yourself up with Jaehyun and getting your brains fucked out all day.”

Jaehyun gave you a look. “See? I knew this was gonna happen.”

“Can’t help it that I was feeling horny and you were the only one home.” You kissed Jaehyun's cheek, making Johnny roll his eyes at you and let out a fake gag.

“Gross.” Johnny frowned. “I’d say get a room but you two just came out of it. Go deal with your other lover. I can’t deal with it.”

“Okay, okay.” You laughed, giving Jaehyun a farewell kiss before he departed with Johnny.

You found Doyoung sulking on the couch, flipping through the channels mindlessly. Looking at him, you couldn't help but laugh, seeing how uncomfortable he looked sitting there like that.

“Doyoung,” you plopped on the couch next to him, lacing your fingers with his. “Are you alright? You haven’t said a word since I got here.”

His eyes flashed towards you briefly before returning to the TV screen, shaking his head slightly.

“Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?” You asked carefully, afraid that maybe your constant need for sex with Jaehyun wasn’t appealing to the others anymore.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I mean, yeah, it is annoying, but I get it, really.” He sighed. “We both know how you get when you’re alone with him. It’s bound to drive you nuts eventually. But…”

“But?” You prompted, curious as to where this was going.

“I want you to want me too, Y/N.” He blurted out suddenly. “Just as much as you want Jaehyun and Jungwoo.”

Your eyes widened. “What? Of course I want you. Why would you ever doubt that?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe because we haven’t had sex in a while and it seems like when you do have sex, it’s only with Jaehyun or Jungwoo. I feel a bit left out.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung.” You frowned, placing your head on his shoulder. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have gone all crazy with Jaehyun today. I guess we kind of forgot to consider everyone else.”

He squeezed your fingers, his thumb rubbing against your knuckle softly. He leaned his head towards yours, catching your lips with his.

For a moment, the world melted away and there was only you and Doyoung, cuddling on the couch, each other's arms keeping you warm as you shared passionate kisses. You closed your eyes as he drew your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking softly. You hummed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His hands ran up and down your sides, stopping at your hip. He placed gentle kisses along your jawline, dragging his teeth lightly against your skin. Your heart was pounding rapidly as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping at your collar bone. You were practically squirming on the couch from the growing desire to have him. To have him in you.

“Can we…” You started breathlessly.

“Back to my new place?” Doyoung suggested, his voice all sensual and suggestive. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you there since I moved in.”

“Hell yes.” You answered quickly, pulling him off the couch. He stumbled slightly, laughing at your enthusiastic reaction. You watched as he gathered his things and you sent out a quick text to both Jaehyun and Jungwoo that you were heading to Doyoung’s apartment to have some alone time.

It took less than five minutes to reach Doyoung’s building, which said alot considering that you couldn’t keep your hands off him on the ride there. By the time you entered the elevator, you could barely hold yourself together. When the doors opened, Doyoung grabbed your hand and dragged you inside, closing the door firmly behind him.

He released your hand, looking straight at you. You tried to calm yourself, but you failed miserably, trembling uncontrollably as his eyes caressed every inch of your face.

“Why am I so nervous?” You mumbled. “We’ve done this plenty of times…”

Doyoung laughed, leaning down to capture your lips in another deep kiss. When he finally broke away from you, he looked at you intently. “Do you want me, Y/N?”

His question caught you completely off guard. How could he even ask such a question? Of course you wanted him. Every part of you craved his touch. But why did he have to ask? Wasn’t it obvious?

“Of course I want you, you gorgeous man.” You let out a breathless laugh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pushed your body against his, meeting his lips with yours. You kissed him passionately, reveling in the fact that he was here with you.

Finally alone.

“Let’s go.” Doyoung whispered hoarsely, breaking away from you, leading you to his bedroom. Once inside, he turned to face you, pinning you against the wall. His hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He murmured, trailing his nose along your jawline, smelling the faint scent of your perfume. “You smell so good…”

His tongue darted out to lick your lower lip, capturing it between his lips. You whimpered, pressing your chest tighter against his. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply.

God, you were intoxicating.

“You smell like strawberries.” He mumbled against your hair. “God, I’ve missed this smell. This smell always makes me want to eat you up.”

Before you could respond, he pulled away, sliding down your body until he was kneeling between your legs. With one hand, he unbuttoned your blouse, slowly undoing each button, kissing his way up your stomach until he reached your exposed breasts. The touch of his lips on your nipples made you shudder in anticipation.

“You taste amazing. So sweet.” He whispered against your skin, letting his fingers graze across your cleavage, causing goosebumps to break out across your body.

“God, I’ve missed you so much, Y/N.” He sighed, nibbling at your neck, drawing tiny circles on your skin. “I dream of you naked and writhing under me, begging me to make love to you. I miss how soft your skin feels against mine. And I miss hearing you moan my name as I enter you.”

He placed feather light kisses along your collarbone, tracing his fingers over your collarbone, moving slowly downwards.

“Mmmh…Doyoung.” You moaned, arching your back as he lowered his head, flicking his tongue against your nipple. A wave of pleasure rolled through your body as he gently sucked on your breast, teasing it with his tongue.

With his free hand, he pushed your shirt off your shoulders, leaving you completely exposed. You reached out to grasp his shoulders, squeezing them, to balance your legs before they gave out.

He laughed quietly, cupping your cheeks in his hands, staring into your eyes.

“Relax, baby.” He crooned softly. “I’ll be taking my sweet time tonight.”

“Promise?” You breathed. “Because god, Doyoung, I want you so badly.”

“I promise.” He whispered huskily, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips before slipping off his shirt.

Sex with Doyoung was different from sex with Jaehyun or Jungwoo. With Jaehyun, it was all rough and heavy and wild. With Jungwoo, it was all tender and sweet. Sex with Doyoung was somewhere in between those two extremes. Hot, hard, rough, yet also soft and slow. He always made sure that he went slow enough for you to savor every single moment of the experience, almost as if he were doing it just for you.

His lips traced a trail down your torso, stopping right above your lace panties.

“I see Jaehyun’s scent is still lingering on your skin.” He commented, tracing circles on your inner thigh with his index finger. “I guess I have to work extra hard to erase it. So you can have my scent all over you. Only you.”

His words sent shivers down your spine, causing your pussy to clench tightly.

“Y/N…” He whispered against your skin, biting down softly. “Please tell me what you want. What you need. Tell me how bad you want it. I won’t stop unless you tell me to. I want to hear it from you.”

You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second, desperate for him to touch you. Needing him to give you exactly what you needed. You cupped the back of his head, guiding his mouth to your pussy, feeling the sharp intake of air when his lips touched you.

“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his hands coming to rest on your ass, holding you firmly against him. “Show me how much you want it. Beg me. Say the words.”

“Doyoung…please…” You whimpered, pushing your hips towards his mouth. “I need you…I need you so fucking bad…”

You felt him push your panties to the side, exposing your dripping wet pussy to his hungry gaze. His tongue swept across your slit, causing a pleasurable ache to spread throughout your entire body.

“Ah!” You let out, your fingers gripping onto his hair as he licked and teased you mercilessly. “Oh god, Doyoung…don’t tease me…”

He chuckled softly, running his tongue along your slit, teasing you by not diving straight into your waiting pussy.

“Oh god…please…I need it…I need it so bad…” You moaned loudly, thrusting your hips against his mouth, making his tongue flick faster against your clit. “Doyoung…fuck…yes…yes…”

“Say my name again.” He groaned against your sensitive flesh, dipping his fingers inside you.

“Y-Yes, Doyoung…oh god…ah!” You cried out, the sensation of his fingers entering you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You began thrashing your hips against his mouth, grinding your clit against his tongue, trying to get more of his magic tongue inside you.

“Fuuuck…so wet…” He muttered, still teasing you, his fingers never going beyond the first knuckle. You bucked your hips against his hand harder, trying to find something deeper inside you.

Trying to find release.

But he wasn’t having any of that. Instead, he removed his hand from you, kissing his way up your body, nibbling on your earlobe.

“Don’t tease me, Doyoung. Please…just fuck me already.” You whined. “You know I need it. I’m dying here.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Want me to give it to you hard and fast? Or do you want me to take my time? Do you want me to tease you a little bit longer? Let you enjoy every single moment?”

“You can do whatever you want, you know that.” You replied. “Just please, Doyoung…give me what I need. I’m so fucking close.”

The devilish smirk that appeared on his face only fueled your desire further. Your heart started pounding wildly in your chest as you waited anxiously for him to give you what you desired most. You closed your eyes, imagining his thick cock plunging inside you. Imagine how tight your pussy would be around him, how it would burn when he sunk deeper and deeper inside you. You could practically feel him, taste him, smell him…you could imagine everything.

His hands at your waist, he lifted you up against the wall, pressing you harder against it, grinding himself against your soaked pussy. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

Your hands moved to grip his ass, squeezing it tightly.

He pulled away slightly, nibbling at your neck. “Tell me how much you want it, Y/N. Tell me how badly you need it.”

“God, Doyoung…I need it…I need you…please don’t make me wait any longer.” You begged. “Just give me what I need. Give me what I crave.”

“Anything for you, baby.” He breathed, lining his erection at your core. He slid into you slowly, filling you inch by inch. You moaned in pleasure, wrapping your arms around his neck, locking your legs around his waist, grinding against him, wanting him deeper inside you.

Even though you knew that Doyoung was as horny as you, the pace of his movements were slow, deliberate, making you focus on every single sensation. It was such an incredible feeling to know that he wanted to make sure you enjoyed every single moment. That he took his time with you because he wanted you to fully enjoy it.

His hips pushed forward once again, filling you even deeper with every stroke. Each movement caused waves of pleasure to roll through your body, taking you higher and higher with every inch that he sank into you.

Your lips met his, your breasts pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, your thighs tightening around his waist.

“I love you.” You murmured, gazing down at his beautiful face. “You know that, right?”

“Say it again.” He whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you, Doyoung.” You repeated, pressing another kiss against his lips.

“I love you too, baby.” He whispered back, nibbling on your lower lip. “I know you love Jaehyun and Jungwoo as well, but thank you for loving me too.”

Your smile grew wider as you gazed at his gorgeous face, your fingers playing with his soft black hair. The softness of his voice made you go weak in the knees. His dark brown eyes sparkled brightly with emotion. As if he was really thankful for you being with him.

That thought made your heart swell with happiness.

As if reading your mind, he tightened his hold on you, giving you a gentle squeeze before thrusting his hips forwards again.

Every single move he made, every single thrust he made, each time he ground against you and kissed you, he was showing you how grateful he was for you. How lucky he was to have you.

How much he loves you.

“Did you have fun with Doyoung-hyung last night?” Jungwoo asked, staring at you intently as you sat next to him on the couch, drinking your morning coffee. You had just come back to your apartment where you found Jungwoo pouting on your couch.

You raised an eyebrow, raising your cup to your lips, preparing to take a sip. “Why? Are you jealous?”

Jungwoo smirked, resting his chin on your shoulder. “No.”

“You wish.” You rolled your eyes, giving him a playful shove. “Don’t even deny it.”

“He told me he loves you.” He said casually. “And that you love him.”

“Uh huh. And?”

“Don’t you love me too, babe?” He questioned , giving you a small pout. “Can’t I have someone to wake up with and drink coffee with? Can’t I have someone who wants to cuddle with me and watch TV all day long? Don’t I deserve some affection and love as well? Why are you ignoring me?”

“Jungwoo, we just had sex a few days ago.” You rolled your eyes at him, a small smile on your lips. "How am I ignoring you?"

“Uh huh. But you didn’t tell me that you loved me.” He frowned. “I want to know. Are you sleeping with someone else or not?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his puppy dog eyes. You placed your cup on the table, turning to wrap your arms around his neck. “You know who I’m sleeping with. Stop being jealous, my big puppy.”

“Babe, seriously. I just want to know if you love me. I’m needy like that.” He pouted, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I need attention and love.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “I can’t believe out of you, Doyoung and Jaehyun, that you’re the biggest baby.”

“I’ll fight them both to have you.” He grumbled. “I’ll pretend to have a broken leg just so you’ll stay with me.”

“Stop being ridiculous.” You laughed, moving away from him. “If you really want to know, yes, I love you. I love all of you guys.”

“Really?” Jungwoo exclaimed. “Really? You love us all? Not just Doyoung?”

“Yes.” You nodded, smiling widely at him. “You, Jaehyun and Doyoung mean the world to me.”

Jungwoo smiled happily, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Now stop being so clingy and needy.” You chuckled, giving him a playful push. “Go to the practice rooms with the others. I’ll be fine.”

“But…but…” He mumbled, looking up at you.

“Come on, babe. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can find me in bed.” You grinned, grabbing his wrist, tugging him towards the door. “Or am I sleeping alone tonight?”

“Haha. No. I wouldn’t let that happen.” He replied, chuckling.

You grinned at him, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. “Good. Now get out there and have fun.”

“Y/N, seriously. I love you.” He declared, giving you one last lingering kiss before exiting the room.

You sighed contently, sitting down on the couch, sipping your coffee while watching him leave the room. Then you took a look around your apartment. Everything seemed so empty without the guys around. Just silence.

You pulled out your phone and saw the text from Doyoung wondering if you had gotten home safely and that he was going to head to the practice rooms. Another text message popped up, this time from Jaehyun, asking you how the date went and saying that he missed you. A final text message was from Jungwoo, telling you that he’d call you later during his break.

You smiled as you finished reading their messages.

You finished the last of your coffee, setting the cup aside before standing up and stretching.

It felt good to be home after such a long day. And it also felt nice knowing that all three of them were thinking about you.

You wandered into your bedroom to grab your towel so that you could go and take a shower. Once you were done, you dressed in your sweats, slipped your feet into your slippers, and made your way to the kitchen. After placing a bagel on the counter, you headed towards the living room to turn on the television, hoping that something good would be on today.

Suddenly, the sound of your front door opening startled you, causing you to jump and drop the remote onto the floor.

You spun around quickly, seeing Jungwoo walk through the door. “You're supposed to be at practice." You stated.

"I was gonna go," Jungwoo made his way to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. "But then I realized that it's not really important to be there. I would rather be here with you."

"Uh huh." You rolled your eyes, a smile on your lips. "And what would Doyoung and Jaehyun say if you skipped practice?"

Jungwoo hummed thoughtfully. "I guess they'd ask why I'm skipping practice. Then I'd tell them that I want to spend more time with you."

You looked up at him curiously, feeling warm all over. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to yours. "Is my Jungwoo still jealous?"

"Always." He winked.

"Ah." You grinned, lips close to his. "So instead of practice..."

Jungwoo responded by closing the distance between the two of you, giving you a long, deep kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

You moaned softly as his tongue slid along your lips, pressing kisses to your mouth, leaving behind tingles everywhere. Your hands ran through his hair, holding onto his thick strands.

He smelled good. Ridiculously good. Like fresh air and sunshine. Or maybe it was just his natural scent mixed with the fresh fragrance of soap and shampoo that he used. Whatever it was, it drove you wild.

You broke the kiss, panting lightly, letting out a moan when you felt his hands running along your back, down your spine. "Jungwoo, you smell so good."

"Yeah?" He hummed in response, kissing you passionately once again. "Baby, you always smell good. It makes me wanna eat you up."

"What is up with you and others always wanting to eat me up?" You laughed softly, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"I love food." He giggled. "Just saying. Plus you taste good."

"Mmmm...I better taste good." You laughed, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Trust me, babe. You do." He groaned, tugging at your sweater, trying to pull it off of your body. "God, I can't wait to feel your naked skin pressed against mine."

You leaned in to bite his bottom lip, hearing him moan. That sent shivers throughout your body, making you feel weak in the knees.

His fingers reached under your sweater, touching bare skin, causing you to let out a gasp. His other hand rubbed up and down your back, slowly working its way down your spine. All you wanted to do was crawl onto his lap, lose yourself in his touch and let him explore every inch of your body.

Your whole body trembled as you felt his fingertips run along your bare stomach. Then, he slowly moved his hand up, lifting your sweater higher, exposing more of your skin. Your breathing hitched, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the emotions that surged through your body.

His lips returned to yours, nibbling on your bottom lip gently, pushing your sweater up a bit further. He pulled away from you, breathing heavily, almost like he was out of breath.

"Oh shit." He muttered. "I'm so turned on right now."

"Yeah?" You breathed out, a smile on your lips. "Me too."

"You want to fuck?" He whispered, grabbing your wrist, tugging you towards the sofa.

You laughed loudly. "Was there a reason to ask? You know I'd never turn you down."

"Damn straight." He grinned, sitting on the sofa and pulling you towards him. You stood between his spread legs, his hands still delving under your sweater, brushing against bare skin.

You arched your back, moaning softly when his fingers ran across your skin. You reached for the hem of your sweater and pulled it up over your head, throwing it somewhere in your living room. You unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts, nipples erect and hard. You watched Jungwoo's eyes grow wider with each second, biting down on your lower lip as you watched him lick his lips. He grabbed hold of your hips, pulling you forward, his hands sliding your sweats and panties down your thighs, leaving you completely naked.

"Jesus." He murmured, taking a moment to admire your naked body. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. His eyes were glued to your breasts, watching them rise and fall with each rapid breath you took.

Then, he leaned in to place soft kisses on your breast, circling your nipple with his tongue. You whimpered quietly, biting down on your lip. His teeth grazed against your nipple, causing goosebumps to form all over your body.

"Jungwoo..." You groaned, arching your back even further. "Jungwoo, please..."

His tongue moved up to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. His teeth clamped down gently, drawing a small cry from you. His tongue flicked back and forth across your nipple, causing you to buck your hips forward, rubbing against his erection.

Jungwoo sat up, still licking and sucking on your breasts. He placed his palms on your ass, lifting you up, until you were straddling him. He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you tightly against him, grinding against your wetness.

You felt him grow hard beneath you and reached out to unbutton his pants, needing to feel him inside of you. You helped him shimmy out of his pants, kicking them aside.

"You know I can’t be the only one naked, right?” You straddled him and slipped your hands up his shirt. You felt him tighten his grip on your ass, pulling you closer to him. “Take your shirt off, babe.”

Jungwoo reached for the hem of his shirt, raising it above his head. His hair fell freely, giving him an even sexier appearance. His lips met yours in another searing kiss, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like honey and berries. You couldn't get enough of him.

"Ahhh..." You moaned, breaking away from the kiss, shaking your head. "God, Jungwoo."

He delved his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply. "God, you smell so good. Like strawberries. God damn, I want to bury my face in your neck and inhale you."

"God, you always do this to me." You chuckled, planting small kisses along his jawline, your hand grasping his cock firmly.

"Mmm, baby, are you trying to kill me?" He groaned, holding his head up. "I swear I'll die if you keep doing that."

"So you'll die once you're in me?" You teased him, running your fingers down the length of his shaft, eliciting a groan from him.

"Yes." He nodded, kissing you tenderly on the lips. "Every single fucking time."

"I'll have to remember that." You laughed, sitting back on his lap, allowing him to enter you slowly. He filled you completely, your bodies pressed together, skin touching skin. His hands left your ass, gripping your waist, holding you against him. You moved with him, letting him control the pace. Every thrust sent pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to moan in pleasure.

"Baby..." He groaned, rocking against you, pushing deeper inside of you. "Ah, fuck!"

"Do you like it?" You asked, your breasts pushed up against his face. "Tell me."

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, giving it gentle bites with his teeth. You gasped, bucking your hips against him, causing his hands to tighten their grip on your waist.

You rocked against him harder, watching his facial expressions change as you pleasured him. The look of pure bliss on his face made you want to ride him faster, but he slowed his movements, urging you to continue.

He kissed your shoulder, trailing kisses down your neck, leaving you gasping in pleasure. His tongue dipped below your earlobe, causing chills to ripple through your body. Your hands grasped his hair, holding him tighter against you, reveling in the feelings flowing through your body.

When he moved his lips to your collarbone, gently nibbling on your flesh, you moaned loudly, riding him harder, desperate to come.

"Fuck, Jungwoo, fuck..." You cried out, clutching his head to you, digging your nails into his scalp.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Like a fucking angel, you know that?"

"Mmhm." You agreed, gasping as his teeth sank into your skin.

He held you close to him, keeping the same rhythm, driving you crazy. You moaned loudly, his name falling from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, thrusting inside of you, sending pleasure streaking through your body.

"Come on, baby." He urged you. "Let go. Come with me."

He picked up speed, stroking inside of you faster, bringing you closer to the edge. You moaned his name, tilting your head back, your hair cascading down your shoulders. With one final push, Jungwoo buried himself inside of you, thrusting as deep as he could, you screaming his name as you came.

You cried out Jungwoo's name again and again, shuddering uncontrollably as waves of pleasure swept through your body. You opened your eyes to see Jungwoo staring down at you, smiling softly. You smiled back, caressing his cheek.

"I love you, Jungwoo." You said, burying your face in his chest. "Thank you."

He leaned in to give you a soft kiss. "I love you, baby."

A few days later

You peeked your head into the practice room, the nearest back-up dancer jumping slightly in surprise before giving you a small greeting. You sneakily made your way towards the couch where NCT's manager was sitting, carefully placing your belongings down next to you.

"Oppa," you leaned towards him. "How long have they been practicing?"

"About an hour or so." He looked over at the three members still practicing. "You haven't heard the song yet, right? Why don't you stay and watch?"

"You sure?" You asked. "I don't want to be a bother."

He laughed. "I'm sure the guys will be happy when they see you."

You smiled softly, settling back on the couch. When Haechan told you that Doyoung, Jaehyun and Jungwoo were forming a unit, you knew, oh you definitely knew, that no matter what the song was, they would exude their sensual charms.

You shifted in your seat, watching as Doyoung's sweet voice rang through the room, followed by Jaehyun's masculine tone and then finally Jungwoo's silky voice. You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip when you heard the lyrics that expressed leaving perfume behind on a lover so that they could not forget them. And who wouldn't love that? It sounded incredibly sexy and intimate, exactly how you pictured the lyrics.

You couldn't help but take a deep breath while you watched your boys dance. They certainly had the moves, so many different ones to suit each member. After a few minutes, you found yourself humming along with them. Your eyelids started to feel heavy, making you wish you had a pillow to rest your head on.

"Alright, guys." The manager announced, snapping you out of your trance. "That's enough for today. If I keep you guys any longer, someone will get angry."

You rolled your eyes playfully, standing up from the couch as you watched him walk out of the room with the dancers. "Oppa!"

Jaehyun enveloped you in a hug when he heard your voice. "Where've you been hiding yourself?"

You giggled. "Sitting here with your manager while you practiced."

"What did you think?" Doyoung asked, threading his fingers through yours. "Are we okay?"

You bit your lip. "I loved it." You squeezed his hand. "I can't wait to hear it live."

Jungwoo laughed. "You really enjoyed watching us practice?"

"I enjoyed all the aspects." You said, looking at all three of them. "Your voices, your dancing, everything. But what I really enjoyed..."

"Hmm?" They asked, eyeing you curiously.

"The lyrics." You smiled teasingly at them. "Makes me think that you all haven't really left your scents behind, if you catch my drift."

"Oh?" Jaehyun asked, his lips awfully close to yours. "Is that so?"

You bit your bottom lip. "I guess that means you have more work to do..."

"On you?" Doyoung asked, running his finger down your arm.

"I mean...your practice..." You clarified, laughing nervously.

Jaehyun grinned wickedly, slowly walking towards you. He brushed his thumb against your lower lip, catching it between his thumb and index finger, tugging lightly. "What are you saying, baby?"

You couldn't help but suck on his thumb, tasting its sweetness on your tongue. "If you leave your scent behind for me..."

"How?" He breathed, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. "Shall I give you a sample?"

"Please..." You breathed, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

Jungwoo let out a laugh, tugging on your hand. "Why don't we all go home and figure out how to leave our scents behind for her."

You let out a quiet gasp as he led you out of the practice room, dragging Jaehyun and Doyoung with him. It took but minutes to reconvene to your apartment since your apartment was only a few minutes walk from the company.

Once you were all inside the living room, sitting on the couches, Doyoung grabbed your hips, pulling you onto his lap. "So how are we leaving our scents behind for you, Y/N?"

You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder. "Surprise me. Let's see what happens tonight."

Jaehyun stared at the spot where you'd been sitting just moments ago, licking his lips hungrily. "Don't worry, baby."

You grinned, getting up from his lap and plopping down on Jaehyun's lap. He threw his arms around you, cradling you against his chest. "We'll make sure to give you something worth remembering."

Jaehyun lifted you in his arms and made his way to your bedroom, the other two following closely behind.

"My bed, your bed, it doesn't matter which one." You winked. "As long as we're together, it's all the same. Now leave your scents on me so that I don't ever forget you."

Jaehyun threw you on the bed before crawling on top of you. "We'll leave them on your wrist, your collarbone, wherever you like."

You pulled him down for a kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours, tasting every inch of your mouth, his hand coming up to run through your hair. He broke away, tracing the outline of your face with his fingers.

"I'll leave them everywhere." He promised. "Everywhere you want."

Jungwoo sat down next to you, cupping your face gently. "Whatever you need, whatever you desire, we'll provide."

"Anything you want." Doyoung repeated. "It's all about you, after all."

Jaehyun placed his lips against yours once again, whispering against your mouth. "I hope you're ready for us, Y/N. We won't disappoint you."

The three boys nodded before getting up from the bed. All you could do was watch them silently, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as anticipation surged through your veins.

"Remember," Doyoung called over his shoulder, pulling his shirt off. "No inhibitions, nothing holds us back. We'll leave our scents all over you, our fingerprints all over you. Every little piece of us will be imprinted on your skin, making sure that no one else has you but us."

Jaehyun ran his hands over his abs, his muscles flexing underneath his touch. "And the scent of our sweat will linger in your sheets, permeating the fabric, leaving behind the most intimate smell. Nothing will make you forget us like that."

"Then why are we wasting time?" Jungwoo asked, unbuckling his belt. "We should start marking our territory now, before you have a chance to forget us."

With that, they quickly stripped off their clothes, completely naked, standing there with only their confidence for protection. Jungwoo's long fingers removed your clothes, throwing them aside as he made his way down your body, kissing you along the way. He crawled back up, kissing you hard.

Doyoung trailed hot kisses down your neck, biting your neck softly, sucking it gently before moving up to lick the sensitive skin under your ear.

Jaehyun lowered himself between your legs, trailing kisses from your thighs to your pussy, flicking your clit with his tongue, nibbling on it lightly.

You let out a low moan, moaning his name as he licked your folds. He lapped up your juices before diving into your depths, swirling his tongue around your clit, taking it between his teeth, drawing out a sharp cry from you.

Jungwoo worked his magic on your nipples, gently pinching them between his fingers, sending a bolt of electricity straight to your core.

Doyoung continued to kiss down your neck, reaching your collarbone, gently biting your flesh.

You felt the heat rise within you, ready to explode, and you tightened your legs around Jaehyun's head, bucking against his tongue, wanting more.

"Jaehyun...oh god." You moaned, tugging at his hair.

"Not yet, baby." He moaned. "Stay still. Let me show you what I'm going to do to you."

You bit your bottom lip, trying to control yourself. "Please. Jaehyun, please..."

"Just relax, baby." He whispered. "Let us drive you crazy. Just close your eyes and let go."

With that, Jaehyun took his fingers and slid them inside of you, stretching you wide, loosening you up for him. He rubbed his fingers over your clit, stroking it gently, causing you to let out another moan.

Jaehyun breathed against your inner thigh. "We're gonna make this last as long as possible."

He didn't waste any time, working his tongue in and out of you, using his fingers on your clit, stimulating you until you were practically begging for release.

"Tell me how much you want it, baby." He whispered. "Say the words."

You whimpered. "Fuck me. Please fuck me."

"Do you want us, Y/N?" Jungwoo asked. "Are you ready for us to leave our scents on you?"

"Do you want us to fill all your holes?" Doyoung added. "Fill you up with all our cum?"

"Fuck yes." You cried, shaking your head frantically. "Fuck yes."

Jaehyun laid on the bed as you crawled on top of him, lowering yourself down on him. His thick cock slipped inside of you, filling you up completely. You sighed happily, closing your eyes as you began to ride him, feeling him growing even harder inside of you.

"Oh fuck yeah." You moaned. "Jaehyun, fuckkkk."

He wrapped his arms around you, locking you to him as you moved on top of him, your breasts bouncing against his chest.

"Look at you riding me." He moaned, gripping your ass tightly. "Feels good, doesn't it? Feels real good, babe."

You shook your head, raising yourself up and sliding back down on him. "Too fucking good."

Doyoung let out a groan as he watched you bounce on Jaehyun. He was stroking his own cock and when you gestured to him, he happily obliged, guiding his dick to your ass, gently pushing it inside of you. You let out a loud moan as Doyoung slowly pushed himself into you, moving in and out of you in perfect rhythm with Jaehyun.

"Baby, don't forget me." Jungwoo muttered, his dick against your cheek. "I need to feel your mouth on me."

You leaned forward, placing your hands on his thighs, giving him access to your mouth, allowing him to push his dick into your mouth, letting you slide your lips up and down his shaft, feeling him grow even harder as you gave him pleasure.

"You're so turned on, aren't you babe?" Jungwoo asked, your head bobbing up and down on his dick. "You're sucking me so good and I'm sure both Doyoung and Jaehyun is giving your ass and pussy a good pounding. So fucking hot."

You hummed around his dick, trying to keep pace with the other two as they fucked you senseless. You loved being used like this by these three men. They knew exactly what they were doing and each man had their own special way of making you come. Each time was better than the last.

"I love how loud you get when you come, baby." Doyoung whispered against your ear, rubbing your clit with his thumb. "That sound drives me insane."

Jaehyun grunted, his hands cupping your breasts roughly, squeezing your nipples between his fingers. "Come for us, Y/N. Come all over us. Let us know that we're making you feel good."

"Let go, baby." Jungwoo urged, gripping your head against his cock.

"Shit, let's all just come together." Doyoung gasped, pressing against you hard. "Fuck."

Your moans became louder, echoing in the small apartment, mixed with the sounds of sex and moans. The four of you moved in unison, groaning as you came together. Your eyes rolled back into your head as a loud cry escaped your throat, signaling your orgasm.

Jungwoo's dick popped out of your mouth, his semen coating your body. Both Jaehyun and Doyoung emptied themselves into your pussy and ass, simultaneously filling you to the brim.

Doyoung collapsed tirelessly on the bed next to Jaehyun, completely spent.

"That was amazing." You panted, lying on top of Jaehyun, his arms tightening his hold on you. "You guys really did a number on my body. Fuck, I can't believe how full I am right now."

"Fuck, I'm completely exhausted." Doyoung let out as the others laughed.

"You look exhausted." Jaehyun chuckled, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face. "Why don't we all shower and then head to bed?"

"Yeah, a shower would probably help." Jungwoo agreed. "And maybe, just maybe, we can have round 2 in the shower."

You laughed loudly, resting your head against Jaehyun's chest. "I think I'd like that."

[slytherinshua]

SWEATER PAWS

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. pairing. jaehyun x fem!reader. wc. 650.

It had become an unspoken ritual that you and Jaehyun would cuddle after lunch. Even if he had a schedule right after, he would set aside at least 5 minutes of his lunch break to cuddle with you. It was like an energy boost for him, and you savoured the time even more than he did— it helped to not miss him too much during the rest of the day.

Today however, he didn’t have anything planned for the rest of the day. You had already settled on the couch with him, his arm around you, resting at your waist and making sure you were snuggly close to him. You rested your head on his chest, occasionally glancing at whatever tiktok he was watching on his phone before going back to scroll on instagram. 

It was cosy.

It was comforting.

But you still felt… ignored?

This was the first time Jaehyun had been free for almost 2 weeks but he was still glued to his phone. You closed instagram to snuggle a bit closer to him in hopes of getting his attention, but his focus stayed on his phone.

You waited another minute before trying again, this time sighing louder than you usually would. All you got was a gentle rub on your arm before his hand went back to your waist.

At least it wasn’t nothing.

“Jae?” You sat up a bit so you were at eye level with him.

“Hm?” He scrolled to the next tiktok, his eyes still not looking at you, depriving you of the attention that you were practically begging for.

You only had one more idea up your sleeve. There was only one thing you could think of that was certain to get Jaehyun’s attention no matter what. He wouldn’t be able to ignore you after this.

You silently leaned your head forward to plant a lingering kiss on his cheek.

You couldn’t hide your growing smile at the reaction that you got from it— exactly the reaction you were hoping for. His phone slipped out of his hands onto the couch cushion next to him as his cheeks tinted a slight pink and he finally turned to look at you.

“What was that for?” He whispered shyly. His fingers were pulling at the sleeves of his sweater, creating sweater paws subconsciously. It was a habit he wasn’t even aware he did, but you noticed it whenever he was flustered and was wearing a long sleeved shirt or sweater. 

It was the most adorable thing you had ever seen.

And Jaehyun was possibly the most adorable human to ever exist. 

“Just wanted to get your attention.” You smiled, contended now that you had gotten a reaction out of him. You went back to laying against his chest, a sly smile on your face. You were certain that he wouldn’t be able to go back to watching tiktoks. The thing with Jaehyun was that he was never satisfied until he got a proper kiss on the lips. You counted to 3 in your head, and just as you had suspected, Jaehyun spoke up after the small pause.

“You’re really gonna just leave it at that?” 

You glanced up at him again, suppressing a giggle when you saw the small pout. 

“What? Are you not satisfied?”

He shook his head with a slight smile, pleading with his eyes for you to give him what he wanted. You loved to tease him when you had the willpower to resist his big boba eyes and lips downturned into a pout, but today your usual will to resist was mysteriously gone. 

So you found yourself giving in immediately— pulling at his sweater paws to close the distance between you two and pressing your lips to his gently. He hummed satisfiedly at this, the faint taste of your strawberry lip gloss leaving a sweet stain on his lips afterwards.

↳ boynextdoor taglist: @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @metalchick529,, @schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @edensgardenn

[rctributions]

juniper: [...] juniper: [...] juniper: yeah okay juniper: just us?

aleyna: nothing, was just thinking of you 💖 aleyna: wanna come over for dinner?

[nctsplug02]

Husband mark fucking his pregnant wife plss

[11:31PM]

GENRE: father mark, fluff and smut!

WARNINGS: dilf!mark, pregnant milf!reader, kissing, breast play, breeding, praising, dirty talking, spanking, shower sex, and just pure fluff!

AN| happy (late) father’s day! i know, i know. i’m late to this post BUT, you know me, im late to/with everything! anywho, i want to say thank both my daddies. my dad dad and my bf daddy. ANYWHO! happy father’s day to my dad who lives miles and miles away from me, i love you dearly and wish you the best without having the best daughter in the world next to you. and to my daddy who’s next to me in bed (resting after having good pussy), i love you too.

the door unlocks and you try your best to quickly scramble up from the couch with your pint of ice cream in one hand and a fork in the other.

you hear a deep sigh and a bag being dropped on the ground.

at last, you’re able to lift yourself off the couch and onto your feet.

being seven months pregnant with a big belly was a struggle.

“mark, hunnie?” you call out and walk over to the front door space. “mark— oh, jesus christ!” you jump when mark jumpscares you.

“shit— baby, you scared me— oh, my god. i’m so sorry, baby.” marks hands land on your lower back and the side of your belly.

you sigh and attempt to wrap your arms around mark but your belly keeps you two at a distance. mark giggles at your cuteness and pulls you in front of him, putting his arms above your belly and dipping his chin on your shoulder.

“i’m sorry, hunnie.” you rub his arms and rock side to side. “no, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to scare my pregnant wife— just didn’t expect us to go separate paths.” he laughs.

“it’s alright— anyways, how was work?” mark groans and drops his head back before dropping his forehead on the back of your head.

mark sighs, “i’m so pissed. it’s father’s day and they wouldn’t allow me to go home early so i could spend time with you and jae-mi. they said they’d let us leave early because they knew we had plans for father’s day but still were planning to keep us until midnight until taeyong spoke up and they finally just let us leave.”

you frown, “aw, i’m sorry, baby. i’m sorry you are under such a shitty company who doesn’t care about you. and, i’m glad taeyong spoke up. i genuinely was gonna be a karen tonight and march on over to your practice room and complain about you not being home and missing out father’s day— jae-mi was really upset that you weren’t coming home. every hour that went by, she asked and asked if you were coming home yet. it was so disappointing to tell her that you weren’t just yet.”

“not a karen,” mark laughs. “just a loving, worried, moody wife who cares about her husbands well being under my shitty company who doesn’t care about me at all.”

“but, what did you and jae-mi do for father’s day while i was out on schedules?” you smile and bite on his hand crossed in front of you. “we just baked a bit for you, y’know— made some strawberry shortcake cupcakes and brownies.”

“uhhh,” you jump and mark pauses. “let’s go to the kitchen and i’ll let you know else we did.”

you continue to tell mark about what you and your five year old did without mark while walking over to the kitchen.

“woah— woah! what the— woah!” mark gasps and lets go of you. “dude— what! yo, this is sick!” mark jumps excitedly as he sees the frosted (and topped off with cut up strawberries) cupcakes and powered brownies.

you laugh at how mark went from being pissed to being so hyper from seeing sweets.

“wait, that isn’t even the best part. look,” you go around the island and grab the drying white paper from the fridge. “look, look!” you hold up the paper and mark squeals.

“who made this?” mark says, grabbing the paper from you. “this is an absolute masterpiece, what the!” mark says, admiring the art piece.

you tuck your hands behind your back and tilt your head. “jae-mi made it for you. she said she wanted to make something for you that you’d like and.. she made.. a heart with the letter ‘M’ in it.”

“oh, right! she made more for you, look.” you grab the other pieces of paper from the dining table and you pass them to mark.

“aww, this is sick. where’s my little girl?” mark says looking through the art works.

one was a glitter-glued-on-written sign that said, happy father’s day to the best daddy, in blue glitter.

another said, #1 daddy, in pink glitter.

“your little girl is sound asleep in her bed.” mark evens the papers and sets them on the island. “well, i’ll tell her tomorrow morning that her art pieces for me were beautiful.”

“wow, those are really messy.” mark says looking down at his now glitter covered hands.

you giggle and nod. “you should’ve seen mine earlier— jae-mi and i had to take two showers.”

mark grabs you by the shoulder and slams your back onto his chest, wrapping his heavy arms around your shoulder. “now, what did mommy make for me?”

you laugh and shake your head. “mommy helped your little girl make you these nummy desserts.” you push out of his hold and you grab a cupcake from the tray, peeling away the cupcake liner and taking a big bite into the cupcake.

“mmm,” you moan, chewing and then licking your top lip to get the extra whipped cream. “hm, try it.” you hold the cupcake in front of marks mouth and mark licks his lips, leaning forward and then taking a bigger bite.

“holy shit— mm, that’s so good. oh my god.” mark moans and nods, jumping around while holding his crotch and shaking his head.

you laugh and continue to eat the cupcake until all that’s left is the liner.

“alright, baby. let’s go take a shower, yeah?” you whine and shake your head. “this’ll be my third shower of the day— i’m so tired of taking showers.”

you lean your chin on marks chest and you shut your eyes. mark mocks your whine and places his chin on your head.

“but, i’m stinky, baby. i’m all sticky and sweaty.” you push off mark and he interlaces hands with you. “then shower by yourself.” you say with sass and mark laughs. “but, i wanna shower with you.”

you tsk, “fine. but, you have to carry me to the bathroom. now, hurry, let’s go before i change my mind.”

mark quickly yanks his hands from yours and lifts you off your feet by carrying you bridal style. “mark!” you laugh unstably as mark bounces while running up to the bathroom.

“are you crazy?!” you laugh as mark kicks the bathroom door open and sits you on the counter. “what, you said to hurry up before you changed your mind, no?”

he was right, so you couldn’t be mad.

“just, tsk— start the shower will’ya!” you make an angry face and mark laughs.

mark walks over to the shower and turns on the shower, in an instant, hot water squirts out the shower head.

“get undressed, baby.” mark says, walking over to the closet next to the shower and pulling out clean towels.

“mm, why don’t you undress me yourself?” mark stops in his tracks and looks up at you, trying his best to hide the shy smirk.

you place both hands on either sides of your legs and you smirk. “i said why don’t you undress me yourse—?” you gasp as mark drops the neatly folded towels and jogs over to you, quickly grabbing at your oversized shirt that was honestly his from his side of the closet.

mark tosses the shirt behind him and goes for your loose jamies. he undoes the knot and tugs them off with needy grunts.

“mark,” you giggle while being tossed around on your ass. “don’t forget about yourself, you dummy.” mark nods.

marks pupils grow when seeing your huge breasts— thanks for your pregnancy that bumped you from a C cup to a double D cup.

his hands shake as they go to undo your bra. “geez, when did they get this big.” mark says as the push-up bra releases your mochi like breasts.

“they’ve been growing ever since my third month.” you say with creased eyes and an innocent grin as mark massages them in his hands.

“mark, stop,” you giggle as he tweaks your nipples. “you can do that in the shower but i’m getting cold and i can just feel the hot steam from the shower.”

“alright, alright.” mark frowns as he forces himself to pull away from your breasts and helps you down from the counter.

mark walks with you to the running shower after pulling off your panties and you turn around and you stop him.

“what?” he looks down at you.

“you’re still fully clothed, hunnie.” you point out while softly laughing.

mark looks down and laughs along with you. “i forgot,” he rubs his nape and sighs. “wanna undress me?” you tilt your head and sigh. “you’re a big boy, aren’t you?” you see the disappointment in marks eyes and you laugh even more.

“kidding, i’d love to, markie.” you pat his head when seeing him melt.

you pull up his shirt and you purposely run your hand down his toned abs just to make him flex for you. “you’re a cutie, markie.” you tap the tip of his nose and in a reflex for that, he scrunches his nose up.

you finish off by going on your knees and pulling down his sweats and his boxers all together.

“oh,” your eyes slightly cross when marks semi-hard cock bobs in your face. “markie,” you say in a teasing tone. “is this for me?” mark sticks the tip of his tongue out and scrunches up his face in embarrassment.

“let’s continue in the shower?” you ask and mark quickly nods.

mark helps you up off your knees and follows you into the shower like a lost pup.

you turn and give mark a kiss under the pouring showering which quickly leads to a hot and heated makeout sesh. “m—mark,” you attempt to call for him in the middle of the kiss but mark doesn’t stop, he’s addicted.

you somehow manage to pull away from marks needy kisses and you burst into a fit of laughter when seeing how swollen and red his lips are.

“geez, you needy needy man!” mark touches his lips and suddenly turns all red when feeling the swollen-ness.

“i just— it feels like i haven’t kissed you for so long, y/n.” you laugh, holding his forearms. “we kissed this morning before you went off to schedules.”

“not like that, we didn’t.”

“uh, yes we did. don’t tell me you don’t remember our quickie this morning.” mark takes a moment and then finally it clicks. “oooohhhh, right. dude, i totally forgot, i’m sorry.”

you shake your head while rolling your eyes. “whatever, just hurry up and fuck me.”

mark turns you and bends you perfectly so your hands can grasp the tiled walls. “don’t tell me what to do.” mark spanks you and you cry out.

“don’t be so harsh—!” mark spanks you once more. “i said don’t tell me what to do.” you look back when feeling his tip poke at your entrance.

“then don’t be so harsh— and stop teasing me, will’ya— nghh!” you moan when feeling mark ease into you.

“oh, fuck.” mark says, pinching your hip with one hand and using the other hand to hold himself up from leaning all his weight on you.

“baby,” mark groans. “you feel so good, baby. oh, my god.”

his pulsing cock pushes past your gummy walls and continues that many times. “mark,” your cheek pressed against the tiles and your hands laid flat against the tiles.

“harder, markie.” you grunt, grabbing his wrists from behind and crying out when mark starts ramming into your cunt.

“oh, mark!” you wail, moving yourself up onto your tip-toes.

marks face scrunches in pleasure as he feels you clench around him.

your hand reaches down and you begin to rub your nub that’d cried for attention. “f—fuck, i’m gonna cum soon. i’m s—so close.” you pant, rubbing quick circles on your clit and moaning like a wild animal.

you and mark both let out groans when feeling you squirt, the liquid runs down your hand and down marks cock.

“god— mark, i’m cumming.” you cry out to mark who continues to plow into you. “god, i’m cumming.” you whisper.

your knees wobble and buckle as your orgasm hits you. mark quickly holds under your belly and catches you, making sure he gives nice and slow thrusts while holding you up.

“cum, mark. i wanna feel your cum dripping out of my pussy.” you whisper to mark, slowly recovering from your orgasm.

“you want me to cum in your pussy? your pregnant pussy?” you nod, whining at how much more turned on you got just from hearing mark dirty talk to you.

mark does as you pleaded for and cums into your cunt.

his sloppy thrusts come to a halt and he stays balls deep in your cunt. marks cum dripping past his dick and falling straight on the tiled ground, it washes away from the powerful impact of the hot water being sprayed out the shower head.

“geez— i need to sit down.” you pant when mark pulls out of you— slowly.

mark lowers himself to the floor and sits you on his lap. “i love you, you know that, right?” mark chuckles. “of course i do. y’know that i love you too, right?” you nod tiredly. “to the moon and back?” you nod, again.

silence fills up the bathroom.

“so,” you start. “round two?”

“i’ll meet you in the bedroom in ten.” mark says, pushing you back onto your feet.

you leave the bathroom with a purple towel around you and you wait for mark.

ten minutes was too long and by the time mark was finished with his shower, you were sound asleep on his side of the bed with the towel still wrapped around your body.

[crazykpopfanart]

The Real Has Come! ep 43

The Real Has Come! 진짜가 나타났다! K-drama recap ep 43 Se-jin follows Joon-ha into a cafe thinking he is meeting with Yeon-doo. Instead, it turns out he is meeting his sister, Eka, who really is his sister and also a nun! Even Se-jin couldn’t anticipate this new development. Joon-ha doesn’t seem fond of Eka, and asks her not to bother him about money again. She explains to Se-jin, who acts…

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

Hiiii! I have baby fever after seeing Jaehyun with those kids in his mv 🥹 All I can imagine right now are domestic moments with dad Jae. Could I request a dad Jaehyun and oc going grocery shopping with his kiddos?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

"Alright, we have some onions, go ahead and cross that off," you instruct your 6 year old who has a sparkly purple pen in her hand and the grocery list in her non-dominant hand.

She sticks her tongue out as she scans the list, seemingly stuck on the word onion. Dad!Jaehyun smiles softly and sounds out onion for your daughter, enunciating the sounds, "Onion, starts with an o sound."

She smiles as she finds it and crosses it off then gives you a thumbs up, "got it! Next!"

The toddler in the seat of the cart claps and mimics his sister, "next!"

Shopping always goes easily with your kids, they're always calm and well behaved. They liked to have jobs like being in charge of the grocery list, holding items, or pointing them out. Your daughter was in charge of most of these jobs and was a great example for her younger brother who was the grabber of the two.

"Next, we need some potatoes," Jaehyun reads off the list.

You're able to move through the list quickly, especially produce and the meat section. It's only when you get to the colorful snack aisle when the kids start pointing at everything and begging for the snacks.

"This one! No, this one! Actually, that one!" You daughter exclaims as her finger points from snack to snack.

"You can only pick one, so do you want chocolate cookies, strawberry, or oatmeal?" Jaehyun asks while reading off each pack she pointed at.

She squints at each pack, eyes narrowed as she leans in and absorbs every detail of each pack of cookies. After a full minute she finally decides, "strawberry, please."

"Good choice," you praise her as you push the cart down the aisle. Your son happily holds the pack of cookies and points at the strawberries on the plastic.

"Wait, Appa, now I want chocolate," she tells Jaehyun as you pull a carton of milk out of the fridge.

"Are you sure? We're almost done shopping so I won't go back again," Jaehyun asks her.

She puts her hands over her eyes and groans dramatically, "I don't know! So much pressure!"

You and Jaehyun eye each other, hiding smiles at her dramatic exclamation. "Let's ask brother, ok?" You ask her, hoping to ease the pressure.

"Hey bub, do you want strawberry or chocolate cookies?" You ask the toddler.

In turn he stares at you and begins nodding as he points at the pack and babbles incoherently. It's ultimately unhelpful.

"How about this, we get strawberry cookies this time, and next time we can get chocolate. Does that sound good?"

She mulls it over and smiles as she gets an idea, "we can get strawberry cookies and chocolate ice cream today!"

"Ice cream!" The toddler cheers.

You and Jaehyun exchange looks, a new skill gained in parenthood. You both nod minutely. You sigh, "I guess we can do that, but for dinner you can only choose one, ok?"

Your daughter laughs as if you you said the funniest joke in the world, "cookies are snacks! Duh!"

[mai-mai-lim]

Hello yes!! Welcome to Mai('s) ice cream store!! Currently we are serving four flavours inspired by a young lad, which one would you like?

---- tl;dr me and friends made different variations of my Henry and i finally decided to reveal to the public "officially", kind of

alright, this was supposed to only post much, MUCH later (or not at all really) due to ties to the project im still working on which relates to OG Hen. BUT, since people are now interested in the Family Jewels AU, i figured i chose to show all versions of SJ in one go instead of separating them in different posts, including the bastard Henry THAT Y'ALL WILL MEET IN THE AU FROM SMORES' WRITING!!

[click for more info of the four]

OG Henry S. Min: the one i draw the most really, based on the government route and with Charles the most. I know i said it branches from SBO ending but my story project is not taking place after the ending, more like it went under some alterations and the route got a bit quirky ;)

Henry Stickmin "Rogue": the antagonist of the Family Jewels AU. honestly this all started cause i thought i made OG Henry too nice so i told Smores i wanted a villain, and lo and behold, he now exists. anyway i'll let Smores' drabbles to show him, im just dropping art.

"Menace" Seung-jae: ...unfortunately i can't show much of him due to LOADS of spoilers and this is all i can give. sorreh. :P

Henry the Recruit: this is just from the roleswap AU with Ashley made by Kenzie. you can find more info of the AU here.

oh yeah, the whole ice cream thing is just a funny joke between me and my friends, but lemme ask y'all again...

Rogue is co-owned by me and @smoresthehalloweenqueen

Menace and Recruit are co-owned by me and @kingkenzieofmold

[elixirq23]

Gloss

“Your lips look so shiny, it makes me wanna kiss them until they turn matte”

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

(DO NOT REPOST, ORIGINAL WORK BY ME A.K.A @elixirq23)

genre: smut, fluff

warnings!: soft dom;jisung x sub;fem reader, fingering, oral (f & m recieving), praise kink (like A HUGE one), nicknames. (I think that’s it, lmk if there’s smth else)

“Fuck.” You said, as you flipped a page of your book, realising you missed a page. “What’s wrong?” Your roommate, Jisung asked you. “I missed a page, now I don’t know what’s going on. At this point, I’m gonna fail the exam.” you sighed as you took another sip of your coffee. “C’mon, Y/N. Both of us have been at this for the past 3 months. If we still fail, then fuck it. We’ll run away with Minho hyung or something” he said, making little doodles with his black pen on the back of both of your hands. You giggled after seeing two penises with stars around them on both of your hands.

You chuckled at the thought. “You think he would let me come with you guys?”, and han nodded. “I’m exhausted. I really want to sleep, but I can’t.” you walked over to it and groaned loudly as you fell onto it, landing on your face. You felt breathless as Jisung lied on your back. “J-Ji I c-can’t breathe!” He stood up, and you squealed as he picked you up as he stood up.

“PUT ME DOWN BEFORE I STOP BUYING YOU CHEESECAKES AND COFFEE YOU IDIOT” you sighed as he gently seated you on the bed. He sat down beside you and started laughing. His adorable heart shaped smile and Adam’s apple showed, and your heart melted at the sight. His hair looked messy. They slightly covered his eyes, which were barely visible because he was still laughing his ass off. His cheeks were pink and puffy, and you wanted to squish them until they were completely red. You’ve liked jisung for a while now, but have been too oblivious to figure out that he fell first and fell HARDER.

“You need to calm down, and I’ve got just the trick.” He said while you walked back to your desk, shaking your head no. “Sorry, ji, but not today. I really need to study.”

“Please, just for today? For me?” He said, giving you the puppy eyes. You groan as you say, “fine, but just for today.” as he jumps up and down like a little child on Christmas morning. Next think you know both of you are in a convenience store, eating ramyun with ice-cream and drinks. Both of you got the spicy ones since you like competing to see who can take it, and you got choco chip cookie ice cream with a cold coffee, while he got a strawberry ice cream with an iced mocha.

“Bro, Jae-hoon and Hannah are literally couple goals. They went on a date the other day, and Jae decorated that crusty ass gazebo near the river in that abandoned vacation home with flowers and light and pictures and stuff.” Han said, stuffing his face with more food.

Your eyes widened, “How come Hannah didn’t tell me?! Well, I know Chan hyung won’t be to happy about it!” You said, laughing as you thought about how he would react. Both of you started mocking him before throwing away the trash and buying some more snacks. You ran to the dorm, once again racing each other, and gave your favourite old security guard some food.

Both of you played some games together, and had some snacks as well. You had completely forgot about the tests. Until the game was over. You both just looked around, until you faced each other. “I- I’ll be honest. I’m thinking about the exam.” You said, not being able to take the silence anymore. He sighed. “Same.” You both thought of some things to do together, but in vain. “I’ma go change into more comfy clothes. Be right back!” You said as you walked off to your room. You changed into some grey shorts and one of Jisung’s purple shirts. You removed your bra and sighed in relief because it had been suffocating you all day. You put on a little lip gloss, because why not? You liked it!

As you walked into the living room, Jisung’s eyes widened. He was glad the lights were dim, or he would’ve been fucked (pun intended). His breath got caught in his throat when he saw you in his shirt and some really short shorts. He felt shame and embarrassment any time he thought of you like that.

But right now, you were making it really hard (quite literally) for him to not do so. Your nipples poking out of his shirt, and your beautiful thighs on display. Oh god, and your beautiful, plump lips. He’s imagined kissing them and watching them moan his name. He loves them, so much. He gulped as you sat down and ran your fingers through your hair. “So, did you think of anything to do?” you asked him, still unaware of the bulge in his sweatpants. “Uh, no.” He quickly replied, getting harder by the second.

you looked at him, confused, until you noticed it. “Oh.” You accidentally said out loud, and he covered his face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry” he said, looking away. “Uh, don’t worry, ji.” You said, smiling. Your smile fell when you spoke the next part, “Um, is it- is it because- of me?” You asked, your voice no louder than a whisper.

“Um, y-yeah?” He said hesitantly. You pressed your lips together, and gathered up all the courage you had. What other chance will you get? “C-can I help? Only I-if you want though” you said, fidgeting with your fingers. He looked at you as if he’d seen a ghost, but quickly cleared his throat and mumbled a quick ‘sure’. You kneeled on the floor and looked him in the eye once more before slowly pulling down his sweats and boxers.

whoa. He’s… huge. You were basically drooling as you spread the drops of pre-cum on his length. He bit his lip to suppress a moan, and you said, “no, ji. Don’t hesitate. Be as vocal as you want” you said, before wrapping your lips around the tip of his length. You began bobbing your head up and down slowly, and Han groaned at the feeling. You slowly quickened your pace. You looked up to see han, and oh my god. He was a sight for sore eyes.

Beads of sweat flowing down his face, his hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes closed shut and lips in a line. His moans and whimpers just made it so much better. You felt yourself getting more and more aroused, and Jisung began getting louder. You went faster, and felt his cock twitch in your mouth. You let out a low groan and that just finished it for jisung. He emptied into your mouth with a high-pitched whine, said your name followed by a few curses and you wiped the cum off the edges of you lips.

“That was… amazing Y/N… thanks” he said. “Um, can I- may I- only if you want, uh- help you out?” he asked, and you blushed. “Oh um, are you s-sure?” you spoke and he nodded. You sat next to him and he looked into your eyes. “C-can I kiss you?” He asked, and your heart did a flip. “It’s just, your lips still look so shiny, and, you kinda just sucked me off so-”

“JI!” you said as he raised his hands. You nodded before connecting your lips together. He adjusted your position so you were now straddling him. Your hands were on his shoulders, while his travelled around your body. He snuck his hands into your (his) shirt and played with your tits. You moaned into his mouth as he squeezed your right nipple and he snuck his tongue into your mouth. he thought your lips tasted like strawberries. He was obsessed, intoxicated. He wanted to kiss you forever, but he knew he wanted you to be pleased as well. He began trailing kisses from your jaw to your neck, then to your collarbone, and you whimpered when he found your sweet spot. He gently removed his shirt off you, and you did the same with him.

Once you were comfortably lying on the couch, he removed your shorts too. he took a minute to appreciate your beauty. “You’re stunning.” He said, and you blushed at the comment. “T-thanks”.

He took your right breast in his hand and sucked on it, and you gasped. He played with your other breast. “J-ji, want you to touch me” you said, not being able to talk properly. “I will, baby. Just want you to feel good, yeah?” he said before going lower until his head was between you thighs. He slowly blew a little air and you squirmed in your place. He chuckled before dipping his middle finger into your wet folds.

you gasped at the feeling. “You’re so wet, princess” he said before kissing your inner thighs. He licked a stripe up your slit and you whimpered, already bucking your hips. “It’s ok baby, I’ll make you feel good. Don’t get impatient”

he slowly sucked and licked your pussy and used his fingers to make an eight figure on your clit. You moaned loudly as he licked faster and deeper. You felt your high coming and Han replaced his tongue with his fingers so he could go faster. “Han-Hannie!” You squealed as he added 2 more fingers into your heat. “You’re doing great princess, you’re stunning” he said. He whispered other praises into you ears and kissed you hard, which did not slow his fingers down a bit.

he bit your bottom lip and swallowed all the moans of his name ans whimpers you let out. He went back down and licked your clit, and he kept hitting your g-spot, so you felt your high coming. “H-hannie, ‘m gonna cum! Please, let me cum!” you whisper, your eyelids getting heavy. “Cum for me, honey. Cum all over my fingers, pretty.” and that’s all it took. His words and praises just pushed you closer, and you came undone on his digits.

you were pretty tired, so he cleaned you up and made you wear one of his shirts. As both of you sat down on the bed, the room fell silent. suddenly, you blurted out “I like you. A lot. I’ve liked you since you came up to me in 8th grade and started singing that stupid song you made with chan and changbin, ‘Jogiyo noona hokshi namjachingu isseoyeo?’” and covered your face with your hands. Han didn’t say anything, he just tapped your cheek.

you looked at him, and he kissed your cheek. “I like you too, Y/N.”

you felt your insides churn up, and hugged him (more like tackled him on the bed but ok). You turned of the lights and checked the time. 2.45 am? Nice. You snuggled into his chest, and he held you close. “So does this mean we get to fuck often?”

“HAN JISUNG!”

Hope you liked it <3

(Do not repost, original work by me A.K.A @elixirq23)u

[lingeriae]

Hi Jae. !!NO FILTER WARNING!! Requesting some slippery wet messy, lesbian smut. Tribbing, tongue play, Black fem reader, Scissoring

I beg 🙏🏃‍♀️

on it's way! (had to search up what the fuck was tribing 💀)

warnings - smut! minors dni, fingering, spitting, lil bit of oral (r receiving), clit slapping, cursing (duh), kinda mean dom ellie, overstimulation, choking, praising w a lil of degradation.

parings - ellie williams x black fem reader (didn't know who else to write for LMAO)

"im not playing with you—!" you try to run from the girl in front of you, your efforts being useless as she quickly snatches you up, a gasp falls from your lip as she pushes you on the bed and climbs over you , straddling your waist and giggling at how you craned your neck away from her—a weak attempt at avoiding eye-contact.

a wolfish grin makes it way unto plump cherry pink lips with jade-green eyes glinting with desire. you can almost hear your heart beating through your ears—badum badum badum—you wonder if she can hear it too?

heat blazes throughout your whole face and your panties wet flood with arousal. it almost makes you embarrassed, it made you seem like you were easily worked up. but it was all for ellie, so really why would you be embarrassed.

your overwhelmed with the sudden urge to hide yourself from her as she suddenly moves closer, eyes peering down at you with that dark and insatiable look. it has you hooked, anticipating her next move as you feel her hand drift all over your body, her tongue coming out to lick her lips as she watches you through her eyelashes. that fucking smirk on her face—pretty and smug. knowing the effect she has on you.

"why you so quiet, pretty?" her voice is syrupy and seductive, almost as if it was laced with honey and sweetness. a sound that has your body running hotter, and your thighs rubbing together suddenly feeling uncomfortable in your clothes, wanting her to rip them off immediately.

rolling your eyes playfully, you scrunch up your nose at her, "who wouldn’t be quiet after getting harassed?" her grin widens and she leans closer to you, looking effortlessly sexy when she tilts her head, ginger hair framing her face perfectly. before you even realize it, her hand cups your pussy through your panties, and her lips quirk up in a angelic smile at the whimper that falls from your lips at the mere action.

she flashes you a another one of her coy, seductive smile. her tongue pokes her inner cheeks, drawing your attention to the pretty pink tint that begins to spread across her freckled face. "m’harassing you? seem to like it though. pussy’s sooo wet."

all words leave you as she continues to toy with you, your whole fluttering at the groan she lets out when she admires the view of you grinding desperately against her skilled fingers. ellie bites her bottom lip until it chafes, licking them repeatedly before smiling at the little hiccups you make when her thumb circles your clit. her pussy throbs in the boxer she has on,the sight of you turning her on so much that she wonders if she came. green eyes flicker up to your face, it’s a pretty sight—you all dumb and fucked out just from some simple fingering— she continues to stare before her hands are wrapping around your throat. you feel your pussy beat at how dark her eyes seemed to get, as if she needs you so much it hurts.

she can't contain herself any longer, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated, passionate kiss. pink tongue swipping against your pump lips, sighing at the feeling of your nails grazing against her scalp as you run your fingers through her hair. cherishing her like a delicacy.

her lips are soft and tender against yours, they're sweet and slightly bitter—like strawberries and liquor. a battle of dominance that ellie always wins is shared between both your tongues, and ellie smirks in content at your surprised mewl when she sucks on your tongue in victory.

her tongue swipes against her lips as she leans back, admiring the dazed out look on your face again with her veined hand wrapped around your pretty neck. you can slowly see all of her restraint crumbling, she adds a little pressure on her hold on you when you look up at her in faux innocence, eyeing the shy smile that began to spread on your face before mirroring it with one of her own.

"what's funny?" her eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to answer the question.

"nothing, just know im bout to get it." you mumble, with a cute little giggle, as if those words that left your pretty lips didn't mean what they meant. both of the auburn girls eyebrows raise up to her forehead, shocked at your rare boldness, pink floods her face and the grip she has on your throat tightens.

just by her expression you can tell your in for it now, and if you couldn't tell by that you could certainly tell now with your eyes glossy, your legs spread with the naked ginger’s head resting comfortably between them. eyes on your pussy as she fucks her tongue into your hole, flicking up to your expression and watching how even more stupid you get either her mouth on you. grinding yourself against her tongue with a repeated breathless chant of her name and your fingers rooted in her hair, hips stuttering when she inserted a finger into you.

she's chuckling at the way you squirm, brown skin glistening with sweat as your chest rise and fall rapidly with each gasp and huff huff you let out. she savors you with her fingers moving in and out of you at a steady pace, and her mouth sucking on your clit and swirling her pink tongue around it before releasing with a lewd pop.your pussy is so warm and tight, it almost feels like heaven when you clench around her finger. you remind her of an angel with how fucked out you look, tears glistening in your pretty brown eyes and your plump lips circled around a moan. she wasn’t very religious but she almost knelt over and thanked god right then and there.

"gonna cum, pretty girl? can you give it t’me? want you to." she mutters, eyes flickering from yours to her fingers inside of you.

you don't respond, too far gone from the pleasure you were feeling. ellie's eyebrows draw together at this, a hand coming down to slap at your clit, adoring the way your back arches and the pretty squeal that comes from your lips at the action. she knows you like it because of how hard your clamped down on her fingers now, it causes a smirk to tug at the corner of her lips and her eyebrow to raise.

"mm you like that. asked you something."

your head bobs rapidly, tears running down your brown cheeks and your pump lips trembling in pleasure. "mhm! m-make, make me feel so good els-mmh!"

"that's what I like to hear baby." she whispers, thumb rubbing against your nub quickly and a second finger slips into your pussy with ease. your thighs are shaking as ellie moves her finger in and out of you with a scissoring motion, her tongue swirling against your clit, it's overwhelming.

"w-wait ellie...h-hold on..." your words come out in a jumbled babbled and one of your hand finds purchase in ellie's hair, pulling it in a way to somewhat ground yourself. ellie only groans, knowing you were close. her fingers speed up inside of you and her nose bumps into your clit as she slides her tongue along you cunt.

the room is filled with lewd slurps and the sound of ellies fingers moving insdie your pussy, it causes your face to burn with embarassment that you can’t even dwell on as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your thighs begin to shake. "don stop, please don't stop." you tug on her hair, grinding your pussy against her face as you came closer and closer to release.

with a whine, a clear sticky liquid spurts out of you, and ellie quickly licks it up moaning at how sweet you taste.

ellie leans up, resting on her knees between your thighs that she gives a gentle pat. "m'not done with you yet." she says, spreading your thighs to get a clear view of your puffy pussy that shined with her spit and your cum. the sight causes a sound similar to a whine to leave her lips, she doesn't even allow you to question it as she leans towards you. her titties pressed against yours, crowding your space with her presence.

her lips connect to yours again, more heatedly and desperate this time. she licks into your mouth as if she’s starving. you feel spit dribble down your lips as she fucks her tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself.

"ellie..." you say meekly, not geeting to finish your sentence as the ginger smashes her lips against yours again, grinding into you and swallowing every hiccup and whimper that leaves your lips. "ellie slow-"

"shh lemme take care of you. don't you want your els to take care of you?" she drawls, hips not stopping their movement against yours. the quick nod you give in response causes her to smile and she pulls away to remove her boxers before returning with a quick kiss on your lips. she lifts one of your thigh so that she can angle her hips better against yours, your pussy connects with hers and a sigh falls from her lips at the feeling. she leans over to give you another kiss before grinding against you.

"gonna fuck your slutty pussy so good, gonna like it baby I promise." she rasps almost out of breath, her clit bumping into yours as she circles her hip against you and you moan in sync, both overcome with pleasure.

your about to burst, and you can tell ellie is right behind you at the way her pace speeds up. you can't focus on anything but the feeling of ellie's hips against yours, the slow grind she does when both your clits meet is both hypontizing and additive.

"m-gonna cum, don't stop ellie, please don't stop!"

"y-yeah? you close?" she huffs, a strand of her hair falling in her face and her grip on your thigh tightens, "cum with me baby—shit. k-know you can do it."

the thread snaps right then and there. muttered ‘I love you’s fall from your lips as you cling unto the freckled face girl who rides out her high with a strangled gasps and angelic moans. her lips find their place on your cheek as she cums, trying her best to catch her breath. her string arms wrap around you in a protective embrace, naked body cocooning you like you were something so previous—something that could break.

“I love you.”

[burnmarksofficial]

꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐄 ─ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐀 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

❨ series masterlist | request | taglist ❩

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ─

★ birth name ─ jae-eun lee ★ hangul ─ 이재은 ★ nicknames ─ jae, jj, jae-bear, jennington, lilo

★ birthday ─ 5th november 2003 ★ age ─ 20 (int.) 21 (kor.) ★ zodiac ─ scorpio ★ chinese zodiac ─ sheep

★ birth place ─ seoul, south korea ★ home town ─ seoul, south korea ★ current residence ─ seoul, south korea

★ nationality ─ korean ★ ethnicity ─ korean ★ languages ─ english (100%), korean (100%), japanese (100%), french (100%), chinese (97%), spanish (97%), italian (96%), german (96%), thai (54%)

★ gender ─ cisfemale ★ pronouns ─ she/her/hers ★ sexual orientation ─ bisexual ★ romantic orientation ─ biromantic

★ height ─ 170.18 cm (5'7) ★ weight ─ 72kg ★ blood type ─ o negative ★ eye colour ─ black ★ hair colour ─ black

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐑 ─

★ occupation ─ formula one driver

★ team ─ oracle red bull racing ★ position ─ 1st driver ★ race number ─ 13

★ sponsors ─ the hwang corporation ★ helmet ─ bell

★ podiums ─ 65 ★ grand prix entered ─ 67 ★ points ─ 1562 ★ highest race finish ─ 1 (x53) ★ highest position ─ 1 (x3) ★ world championships ─ 3

★ manger ─ jin sehun  ★ opertaions manger ─ do-yun park ★ personal assistant ─ yana rintarou  ★ trainer ─ rin hiniki  ★ press officer ─ moon dan-bi  ★ race engeriner ─ claudia lao

★ debut race ─ 2021, bahrain gp ★ debut age ─ 18 ★ first podiums ─ 2021, bahrain gp (1) ★ first points ─ 2021, bahrain gp (25) ★ debut race win ─ 2021, bahrain gp

★ fans names ─ j-nation ★ offical colours ─ black and white

★ instagram ─ jaeeunlee ★ twitter ─ jaeeunlee ★ youtube ─ jaeeunlee ★ tiktok ─ jaeeunlee ★ twitch ─ jaeeunlee ★ facebook ─ jaeeunlee ★ personal website ─ jaeeunlee.com

★ role modles ─ ha-ru lee, ayton senna, michael schumacher, kimi raikkonen, sebastian vettel, lewis hamilton

★ signature ↓

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 ─

★ mbti ─ intj-a

★ strengths ─ organised, creative, well-rounded, calm, realistic, naturally gifted, smart, introvert, quiet, logical, planner, open-minded ★ weaknesses ─ perfectionist, temper, self-critical, serious, detached, guarded, cold

★ family members ↓ min-jin hwang ─ mother ha-ru lee ─ father (deceased) ari lee ─ older sister ye-jun hwang ─ younger brother dea-eun hwang ─ younger sister saja lee ─ younger brother

★ hobbies & skills ─ photography, cinematography, art, fashion, racing (formula one and others), sports, reading, music/playing instruments (specifically guitar), skateboarding, working out, traveling ★ habits and mannerisms ─ headphone tapping, order in which she wears her jewellery, lip biting, picking at her nails, rolling her eyes, resting bitch face, speaking extremely monotone

★ likes ─ family, friends, her dog loki, woking out, music, playing guitar, skateboarding, art, fashion, photography, cinematography, reading ★ dislikes ─ rude people, racists, homophobes, basically any one that doesn't stand for human rights, people that abuse their power, mclaren

★ medical history ─ depression and anxiety ★ phobias ─ atychiphobia (fear of failure)

★ favourites ↓ number ─ 13 colour ─ black animal ─ dogs emoji ─ 😭🫡✨💀🫶🏼🏎📸 season ─ summer

★ favourites food ─ pizza, kimchi, soft tofu stew, samgyeopsal, sushi, instant noodles, tteokbokki, bibimbap, naengmyeon, bulgogi, korean bbq ★ favourites desserts ─ chocolate, mochi, cheesecake, crepe, red velvet cake, basically anything sweet ★ favourites drinks ─ coke, soju, strawberry milkshake, engery drinks, tea, coffee, milk, water, red wine

★ personal playlist ─ here

[nebulousbrainsoup]

skz reacts: a breakup?

PAIRING: best friend!skz x gn!reader GENRE: smau, angstish, comfort RATING: PG TAGS/WARNINGS: foul language WC/CONTENTS: 8 screenshots SUMMARY: ot8 reacting to reader's cry for help, a little self-indulgent comfort thing <3

✧ ˚ bang chan & lee know

✧ ˚ changbin & hyunjin

✧ ˚ han & felix

✧ ˚ seungmin & i.n

A/N: i swear i still have stray kids thoughts. i'm working on jisung things; all the Thoughts have just been ateez lately!! have a little treat while i bide my time on these longer fics, dears <3

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TAGLISTS [ALL OPEN] PERMANENT: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @soul-jae @ad0rechuu @seonghwaddict SKZ: @marcillfll @tattywood @loving-strawberry

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