D

ʚɞ

sw: dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, subspace, fingering, overstimulation, ruined orgasm, heavy petname usage sorry.., face slapping, crying, dacryphilia if you squint, a sprinkle of cockwarming, rough sex, praise and the teensiest bit of degradation(?), tummy cumshot, light aftercare (more done offscreen), mm i think that's it!

ʚɞ

“a-ah, ‘yennie, ‘s too much,” you sniffle pathetically, pawing weakly at the hand that’s been toying between your legs for the better part of the last two hours. jeongin coos down at you from where he props himself up on an arm near your side, tilting his head as his lips curl into a smile, deep dimples popping out as if to mock your pitiful state. his other hand stays occupied with your silky heat, and just the sight of the veins protruding in his busy forearm as he works you has you soaking the sheets alone.

“it’s too much, baby?” he echoes condescendingly, eyes crinkling into mirthful crescents at the sound of your pussy squelching obscenely when he finally works two fingers inside your pussy with no resistance. you moan loudly at the delicious stretch of his long, dexterous fingers, delighted at finally having something inside after only being rubbed at and rubbed at up until now, and he grunts in response.

“shit… tight little cunt,” he mutters, crooking his fingers just right to prod at that gooey spot deep within. your whole body jolts as if connected to a live wire, and he moans breathily at the sight. “ah, fuck, is it there, baby? that’s what you want?”

you cry out in response, eyes slamming shut as you nod desperately. your hips begin to hump embarrassingly fast against his palm, but you’re so far gone you can’t even consider stopping yourself. jeongin chuckles at the tears welling up in your eyes as you fuck on his hand like a rabbit in heat, eagerly chasing your orgasm as it draws closer and closer.

he surprisingly allows it without complaint; if you had a drop of coherency left in your cotton-filled brain, you'd question his merciful behavior, but you're submerged too deep in the fuzzy headspace you oh so love to even think about anything other than the pleasure he's giving you. you babble out your incoherent thanks and rut impossibly harder against his palm, but just as your stomach begins to contract and the heat in your abdomen roars to an inferno, he pulls away.

you nearly scream aloud in frustration when your clit pulses angrily at the ruined orgasm. “jeongin!" you wail. "please, don’t be c-cruel,” sniffling, you shove your own hand down to swipe needily at your clit, pretty little head swooning with so much pleasure you can't even consider the consequences your desperation may bring. “need you, daddy, please, please please!” you cry out, frame thrashing wildly against the sheets with how sensitive you are now.

your boyfriend grunts and shifts to loom over you, brushing away his dark bangs so he can see how fucked out you are beneath him. he scoffs once, disbelieving at how you're still babbling and even beginning to drool onto his sheets, before he lands a harsh slap to your cheek. "hush, baby," he spits out, palming his flushed cock right over your heaving soft tummy. the hit leaves your skin hot and stinging in its wake, and you gasp. "god, you're so fucking needy, huh?" he drawls, polishing his tip with a sensitive hiss.

you didn't even realize the slap brought fresh tears to your eyes until they start falling right over the delicate spot where you were struck and you whine, clit pulsing with renewed delight at the pain. it finally manages to shut you up and he smirks when you eventually manage to still and fall silent, save for your intermittent sniffles and heavy breathing. he groans and tips his head forward to press an uncoordinated kiss to your lips at the sight of you peering up at him through wet lashes, patiently waiting for whatever he'll dish out next.

"ah, you're so good to me, sweetheart," jeongin murmurs into your mouth before tangling his tongue with yours. you moan against his lips as he sucks filthily on your tongue, and your noises only grow louder when you feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. you break the kiss to pant and stare down at where he pushes in until your head subconsciously falls back against the pillow at the stretch. despite him preparing you with his digits not long ago, it's still a tight fit every time you fuck your boyfriend simply because of his sheer size.

the soaking wet warmth that envelops him must take a toll on him too, especially with how long he's been working the both of you up. jeongin moans at the feeling and his arms begin to shake as he bottoms out. he leans down to lap sloppily at the crook under your jaw while you both catch your breaths. "just warm my cock for a li'l, okay, baby?" he mutters, abs clenching erratically as he does his best to stave off his orgasm. you nod, eager to please and be good, but it doesn't take long before you get squirmy.

who can blame you, though? with his hard cock finally sheathed inside after endless teasing, it's a wonder how you've even held on this long at all. you find yourself writhing again before you know it, fingers threaded into the sheets near your head as you begin to mindlessly beg and tilt your hips up, eager for stimulation. "daddy, please move, plea--"

"sh, shh, angel," he cuts you off, pulling back to loom over you once again. "i know, i know," he croons sweetly when you begin to cry again at the first gentle rolls of his hips. he kisses those salty tears away and begins to thrust harder, rougher, until you're eventually being shifted up the bed with the force and the headboard is rattling against the wall in a steady rhythm.

you don't even register your volume until jeongin is pressing a clammy palm against your mouth to muffle you, still fucking into you like a toy. "shhh, shh," he soothes again, and your eyes roll back when a slight shift of the angle has his tip suddenly pounding into your g-spot. "that's it, sweetheart, just take it. i'll let you come soon, okay? y-you.. fuck," he pants, cock twitching deep inside when you clench hard at his words, "you're so beautiful. milkin' my cock for me, bein' such a good girl, hm?" you whine, eyes slammed shut and brows furrowed in pleasure, and the pornographic moan he lets out at the sight finally tips you over the edge.

"oh, o-oh," jeongin gasps at the way your walls flutter around him, sucking him in deep and demanding his seed. "shit, baby," he grunts, thrusts growing erratic and losing their rhythm as his own orgasm builds impossibly fast. "cream all over my cock like that, and i'll-- ah, fuck- cumming cumming--!" he cries; just before you can feel warmth flood your poor, abused pussy, his cock is sliding out of you with an embarrassingly loud noise and he's painting the plush skin below your bellybutton with ropes of white, warm cum.

he jerks and milks himself above you with his eyes pressed shut and mouth wide open as a long, drawn-out groan escapes him. when he's finally spent, he collapses beside you in a sweaty heap with a sated sigh. it's the last thing you see before your eyes drift shut in exhaustion, and when they crack open again he's plastered against your clean stomach, head pillowed happily on a naked boob.

your throat clicks dryly when you try to speak, and he's quick to snap up and fumble with a nearby water bottle, swiftly unscrewing it and pressing it to your lips. when he deems you adequately hydrated, he pulls away and sets it down as you roll your neck around, stretching out your limbs. "hey, sleepyhead. you enjoy your nap?" he grins, returning to his spot amongst your chest. your eyes roll but you give a dopey smile right back, fucked out and soft from the afterglow.

"mhm..." you sigh, tilting his chin up for a kiss. jeongin complies with a happy noise and you pull back before things can get heated again. your poor cunt can't handle another round just yet.

"love you," he murmurs, tucking his face into your neck. you thread your hands through his dark tresses, mussed and a bit smelly from all the activity, but you love it all the same. as his breath begins to peter out into a slower, more even rhythm, your own breath begins to sync as you all but melt into the mattress under his comforting weight. "love you, too," you mutter before slipping off into sleep once more, satisfied, warm, and sated in the arms of the man you love most.

ʚɞ

"okay this is a little weeeeeird," he shakes his head, eyes trained on the ground for any promising branches he could use for his supply.

"hm, not that weird? people talk to themselves all the time." he shrugs, bending down with a squeak as he grabs a couple of logs, then tucks them under his arm.

"nah, its weeeeeird. you're here all alone in the middle of the woods and talking to yourself. OUT LOUD. like a full on conversation. as if there are two parties exchanging information. YOU'RE ALL ALONE. and you're still talking out loud...." he continues to yap to himself, the only other sound besides his voice is the satisfying crunch of the leaves under his boots. he decides that bones crushing would sound similar.

"okay, that was a weird thought. do you need help? hahaha"

he cringes when his voice echoes.

he takes a deep breath and holds it, letting it out only when he feels the familiar burn in his chest. he shakes his head, chuckling at himself.

he wonders how long it will take for him to break.

by his eighth hour alone, han jisung feels like he's going just a little crazy. at first, he thought he was hearing voices. it turned out to be his own. talking. out loud. into the darkness of his tent.

he sits against the pole supporting his tent in the middle, knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. he finally got to reading the beaten up copy of pride and prejudice that hyunjin lent him, but after reading the same sentence eight times over and over again, he yelled out loud, scaring himself in the process, and chucked the book to the other end of his sleeping bag.

"i should sleep," he groans, looking out into the dark of the forest.

"but its at such an awkward time!" he whines, rubbing his face in frustration. "if i sleep now i'll wake up soooo earlyyyy."

"but im so bored!"

han groans, turning around to lean his head against the wooden pole. he stays like that for a while, chewing on his bottom lip. he's been silent for too long, the ringing in his ears is getting louder and louder.

"fine! i'll go for a walk!" he clasps his hands together before pushing himself off the ground, grumbling to himself as he pulls on his padded jacket and slips into his thick boots. he double checks the burner he used to heat up his dinner is off, and zips up his tent.

it's way too cold for him to be out here right now. han immediately realizes his mistake a good mile away from his camp when a shiver runs down his spine the third time in a row within a five minute interval. the hand holding his flashlight is shaking violently, the other hand tucked tightly in the pocket of his padded jacket.

he's starting to overthink, the eerie silence and his wild imagination running in the dark as he ignores the weight that's started to settle in his chest. he feels as if someone's watching him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention. he shakes his head.

for the most part, han loves being alone. he always more of an introvert, treasuring his alone time. he loves spending time by himself, getting to recharge and do things on his own without that icky feeling of being perceived by others.

he spends most of his hours alone.

he knows how it feels.

which is why he knows he's not alone right now.

in the dark of the woods where the trees are thicker, taller. he swallows the fear, chalking it up to his mind playing games on him. maybe there is such a thing as too much alone time.

"okay, i think thats enough for tonight." he announces into the darkness of the woods.

before he can turn around, a sharp ringing sound pierces his ears. its too loud, too high in pitch. han falls to his knees, flashlight falling onto the ground as his hands rush to cover the sides of his head, palms flat in an attempt to block out the high-pitched ringing.

he's never felt this sensation before, almost as if the soundwaves have entered his brain and proceed to jump all around. his head is pounding and he falls forward into the dirt, knees tucked into his chest in a fetal position.

he thinks hes going to die, truthfully. he faintly registers the fact that his hands have grown wet with what he can only assume is blood. its thick and warm and trickling in between the gaps of his fingers. he's beyond dizzy, eyes scrunching up in pain as he tries desperately to gather himself.

he has to get out of here.

there are tears coming out from his eyes at the pain, but through the thick blurry fog of his tears, he sees a beam of light coming down from the otherwise dark sky. the light blue light casts a shadow, the leaves of the trees dancing on the forest floor.

han thinks hes about to pass out. his skin is covered in goosebumps, and the sharp ringing in his ears have reduced to a dull hum. he blinks slowly, resting on his back as he accepts his fate.

he's dying and god is waiting to pick up his soul, casting a heavenly light down onto his poor, withered, totally dead body. he stares directly into the beam of light that hovers over him. a dark silhouette appears to come down to him, long flowing hair rustling in the wind, arms reaching out to him.

"are you... my guardian angel?" he chokes out once the shadow creeps closer, close enough for him to make out the features of the creature's face through half-lidded eyes.

"beautiful," he whispers, closing his eyes and awaiting the sweet kiss of death.

okay, maybe he was being a little dramatic.

he realizes this now when he jolts awake, leaves crunching under his body from the sudden movement. he's disoriented, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

he doesnt remember falling asleep in the middle of the woods. han's known for being able to fall asleep anywhere, but on the cold, hard, ground? out in the open? where animals could have feasted on him? thats just plain silly.

he sits up, and he's met with a sharp throbbing pain in his head. he lets out a grunt, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to collect himself. he looks around, his flashlight dead beside him. how the hell did he get out here?

he follows the trail back to his camp after walking down to the stream and splashing his face with the cold water, body aching and head still pounding. he considers wrapping this camping trip up and taking the rest of his leave from work in his cozy one bedroom apartment, safe from mosquitoes and ear-splitting ringing and lights from the heavens.

his tent looks normal enough once he finds the clearing, but the nearer he approaches, the more the hairs on his arms stand at attention. he's 100% sure he remembered to zip up the entrance to his tent. the entrance which is now wide open, the flap tucked neatly under a couple of stones.

he feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, throat closing up as the dread starts to settle deep in his chest. he swears he remembers locking up properly before going on a walk. he approaches his tent as quietly as he can, fingers clamped tight around the base of his flashlight, ready to swing it as hard as he can at whoever the hell has invaded his territory.

he peeks his head in, his mouth dropping at the sight.

it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

suddenly, he recalls the events that happened right before he passed out. the loud ringing, the flash of light, his guardian angel.

who's standing inside of his tent. completely naked.

ohmygod, he did die. he's in heaven right now.

he drops his flashlight, mouth opening before he can rationally make a decision.

"hey! you'r-" he's cut off by the zap of electricity that comes once you lock eyes with him, a heat that spreads throughout his whole body and renders him speechless. and for the second time within twelve hours han jisung feels himself collapse on the ground before darkness takes over his vision.

the first thing he feels is the cold. and then the sharp stinging in his cheek. his eyes fly open, and he immediately feels the pain all over his body.

he has never felt this beaten up before.

and then he feels the sharpness on his wrists. he attempts to move one, before he realizes he's tied up. he sits up straighter now, pulling at the rope thats tied tightly against his wrists, binding him to the pole in the middle of his tent.

if he's in heaven, why the fuck does it hurt so much?

"⍙⊑⍜ ⏃⍀⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⏃⋏⎅ ⍙⊑⍜ ⎅⍜ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⍜⍀☍ ⎎⍜⍀?"

jisung turns towards the source of the weird gibberish to find you sitting calmly on the edge of his bed.

he should be scared. but you're far too beautiful for him to register any actual threat.

you look human enough, your skin could pass as one, no ridges or bumps or patterns or scales to suggest otherwise. but there's something off-putting about your face. your features are too symmetrical, bug-like eyes narrowed and sitting too close to one another. your ears are way too small, especially now as your hair steers clear from your face. its subtle, the way a person could glance at you and not be suspicious. but the longer jisung stares at you, the more his fears are confirmed.

you're not from around here.

"w-what?" jisung whimpers, as if you would be able to understand him.

the look you give him sends a shiver down his spine.

you rise to your full height, top of your head bumping against the roof of his tent. you're definitely taller than him. then his eyes fall to the rest of your body, which, he might add, is completely bare. your skin is smooth all the way down to your pelvis, an even tone except for the area above your pelvis which turns a little darker.

he should be alarmed by the fact that your body is different from that of an average woman, noting in awe at the smooth plane of skin where your belly button should be.

but all he can think about is the fact that he's got a hot... being... standing in the middle of his room.

"eng,,,english?" your voice is small when you ask, as if you're unsure yourself.

han only nods.

you make a sound, and han can only assume you're cursing by the way your brows furrow and your eyes shut in frustration.

"english... not so good." you mumble, scanning the room for something.

"i'd say its pretty good." han squeaks.

you stare at him blankly. you walk around his tent, stepping over his legs and picking up everything you see. he watches you examine the pots he used to make his dinner before setting them gently on the ground.

he cant believe he's letting this happen to him. he watches in horror as you dig through his bag, taking out all the clothes he's brought on the trip. you're quite literally prodding around his personal belongings, and he's watching you, letting you, with a chub in his pants.

is he sick?

in his defense, you're completely naked in front of him, bending over and exposing yourself to him. han's always been known to have... different sexual preferences. admittedly, hes a little bit of a freak. to put it quite bluntly, he's into that supernatural shit. he's not afraid to say it! he digs that tentacle shit. he briefly wonders whether or not you possess some kind of supernatural abilities. he's read all about them. aphrodisiac slick? tentacle's hidden in between your legs? oooo does your tongue-

you make a sound of surprise before picking up the book he'd abandoned last night, excitedly turning to him.

"⟟⌇ ⏁⊑⟟⌇ ⌇⍜⋔⟒ ☍⟟⋏⎅ ⍜⎎ ⌇⏃☊⍀⟒⎅ ⏁⟒⌖⏁?" you hold the book in your hand as you sink to your knees beside him.

"i-m sorry i dont understand," jisung whispers.

you huff in frustration. "what... you do... this?"

jisung tries to understand your broken english. "oh! you uhm.. you read?" he nods towards the book in your hands, moving his head back and forth to show you that you have to open the flap, turn to the next page.

you tilt your head in confusion. you start to mimic his movements, moving your head back and forth in the same motion. jisung has to bite his lip from laughing.

"look, i could help you but you tied me up, so..." jisung nods towards his restraints.

you study his face for a long moment. "you.... harm?"

jisung shakes his head so violently he can feel his brain moving. "no. no harm. promise."

you give him one last look from head to toe before slowly nodding. you inch closer to his chest, arms wrapping around him to reach for the painful knot that keeps him hostage. han lets out a sigh of relief once the tie loosens, shaking the ache away from his hands.

you continue to stare at him, slightly backing away as he reaches for the book on the ground.

"you read it. like this, see?" han opens up the book on the page he had dog-eared last night, gliding his finger across the page to highlight the words.

you make a weird rumble sound from deep in your chest, eagerly snatching the book away from him. your brows furrow as you attempt to read, slowly sounding out the letters under your breath. han watches you, eyes trailing from your wide eyes to the purse of your lips as you read. they fall to even more dangerous territory down to your chest, and the smooth skin of your stomach, to the space between your thighs.

"oh!" he squeaks, awkwardly clearing his throat after catching your attention. "you should put on some clothes. you can borrow some of mine, no titty- i erm, mean no biggy!" he stands then, walking over to the mess that is his duffel bag. he pulls out his worn out alien shirt (very fitting, he thinks) and a pair of sweatpants. you'll just have to do with no underwear for now. he takes his time in refolding all his clothes before dumping them in a wrinkled pile at the bottom of his bag.

"here, put these on." he offers you his clothes from where you sit cross-legged on the floor of his tent. you finally pull away from the book, and stare blankly from the fabric in his hands to his face.

a beat passes before han finally clears his throat. "you uh... put them on. like mine, see?" he gestures towards his shorts.

"why?" you ask.

oh dear.

"oh, well. people dont... respond well to seeing other people, or well in your case- a being's naked body." he explains, crouching down beside you.

you dog ear the page just like he did before closing it and setting it down on the floor.

"you.. you dont respond well?"

han swallows. "oh, well i mean, more of like the general public."

"so you... okay with me, naked body?"

his cheeks warm. "i mean, its not exactly a problem. you're pretty and interesting to look at with all due respect, but like- i dunno you might be a little... cold?"

you shake your head before placing your hand on his cheek. he jolts at the contact of your warm palm on his skin.

"oh. you run hot." he squeaks.

you nod.

how in the hell can he persuade you to just put on the damn clothes? not to be a perv or anything but he feels so icky shamelessly staring at your body, and you're none the wiser. he can feel himself half-hard, (a totally valid response, he would argue) but the guilt is eating at him. he doesnt want to take advantage of your naivety.

"but the clothes... they provide an.. extra layer of protection, you know" he winces at his lame response.

your eyes widen, reaching for the clothes in earnest. "armor?"

han bites his bottom lip and nods.

you look down at the fabric in your hands with awe before you stand up. you look down from the clothes back to han.

han mentally slaps himself. "oh, right. er- lemme help you."

han crouches down, holding the sweatpants out for you. he gently guides your legs to where they need to go, slipping the pants up your thighs and settling them on your waist. his fingers brush against where your belly button should be as he ties the strands tighter, to ensure the fabric wouldnt fall down.

"there yo-" to say han was blindsided by the heavy hand that smacks across the side of his face is an understatement. your whole palm lands against his cheek. his jaw drops in shock as he looks up at you.

"⍙⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎎⎍☊☍? ⊑⍜⍙ ⎅⏃⍀⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⏁⍜⎍☊⊑ ⋔⟒ ⏁⊑⟒⍀⟒!" you yell, clutching at the hem of his sweatpants and taking a step away from him, as if wounded.

"i- what?? what happened i-"

"⎅⍜⋏⏁ ⏁⍀⊬ ⏁⍜ ⎅⟒⋏⊬ ⟟⏁! ⊬⍜⎍ ⏁⍜⎍☊⊑⟒⎅ ⋔⟒ ⏁⊑⟒⍀⟒, ⊬⍜⎍ ⌿⟒⍀⎐⟒⍀⏁!" you continue to rant, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"okay, okay... lets calm down- just- tell me what i did? what happened? did i hurt you?" han holds his hands up in surrender as he slowly approaches you.

you take a deep breath and stare him down. "dont.. no touch." your voice is hard.

"okay, okay. im sorry." jisung coos.

"that... p-part! no." your voice wavers slightly.

"i hear you. i understand. im sorry, okay?" his voice is gentle as he takes another cautious step towards you.

you let out a deep sigh and nod. "i- i sorry too. i hurt you."

"oh, no its fine." han bites his tongue in an attempt to hold back the tears in his eyes.

he approaches you once more, this time with the shirt bunched up to place it on your head easier. you gasp at the sensation and han chuckles.

he wonders how he would react if he were in your shoes, in an unfamiliar planet with a man you can hardly understand, as he pokes and prods at you.

how did you even get here in the first place? he decides he'll save his questions for when you're a little more comfortable with him.

he gently wraps his hand around your wrists and guides them into the shirt before he reaches around to untuck your hair from the fabric, letting it sweep down your back.

"there! now you.. kinda look like me." he laughs.

you stare at him. "ha. ha. ha. what that mean?" you ask.

"oh, when something is like.. funny? if you like something you kinda.. laugh." he struggles to explain.

"oh. ha. ha. ha."

han cant help the giggle that escapes him. "oh by the way. whats your name?"

"name?"

"well i mean... me, han jisung." he points towards himself, poking his chest for emphasis. he turns his pointer fingers towards you before gently poking your chest.

you make a sound of understanding before you tell him yours.

"oh. y/n. thats pretty," he compliments.

you make a sound akin to a purr, rumbling deep in your chest. "i- i read. you book. okay?" you point.

"oh, alright!" han bends down to pick it up before he hands it to you. "its starting to get dark. i'm gonna start a fire okay? i erm- i leave for a bit. you stay."

you only nod before sinking to the ground, folding your legs under you as you lean against the supporting pole of the tent. "i stay." you reassure him. its not like you could go anywhere else anyway.

you watch as han gives you one last smile before he steps out into the dusk, zipping up his tent behind him.

you like han, you decide. you were exiled onto this planet for.. a crime you had no choice but to commit. you understand the gravity of the Supremes' punishment now, throwing you down into a disgusting, vile planet such as Earth.

why couldnt they have dropped you off at Sebion? at least you'd be the most intelligent sentient being. sure, the siens were a little annoying, constantly screeching at the mark of every hour. but that, you could live with. humans? a totally different story.

you remember the lessons they taught about humans, the most selfish, vile creature to exist in the universe. they look a little different from what you've been taught, though. they're supposed to have sharp teeth and long nails. the scariest part about them? they lie. imagine that! the thought sends a shudder down your spine. you know all about the evil that is the human race. possessed by horrors like greed, selfishness, and hatred.

they're the creatures that scared you the most. you could deal with the merqrai on vikunus. they had a weakness, a soft spot on the top of their head you could whack and render them unconscious. but humans? just about the only sentient being in the entire universe capable of betrayal. they are inherently evil, your tutors said.

you think back to how you had zapped han jisung, how his body folded like cloth into a heap on the floor. was electricity their weakness? something about han jisung makes you believe he's different, though. he's certainly not as ugly as the humans they showed you in class. he's almost a little pretty, with round eyes and chubby cheeks.

you'd like to think he wouldn't lie like the other humans, too.

by the time han jisung returns to his tent, you've finished reading the interesting novel cover to cover. admittedly, you skipped all the boring parts and instead focused on the dialogue. you wanted to impress han with your new english.

"hello." you chirp cheerily as soon as han jisung enters, removing his gloves and settling closer to the radiator in the middle of the space.

"oh! hi." jisung blushes, reaching his hands out to the heat.

"you are cold?" you coo, moving a little closer to sit beside him.

han just giggles. "yea, a little. it's around winter now so its getting chilly. i think its gonna snow tomorrow."

"winter? the cold time?" you vaguely remember your tutor telling you all about the seasons on Earth.

thank god you picked up those extra lessons on Earth.

"yea! does it snow where you're from? han is seated more comfortably now, legs stretched in front of him.

"snow? the... uh... from the sky? falling, yes?"

"yea! the little white things that fall from the sky."

"oh... no snow at home. just uhm what you call it... rain?"

han beams at you. "you said your english was bad, but i think you're doing perfectly fine. pretty good for someone not around here, actually."

you cant help the smile that creeps on your face. a silence falls over the both of you after, with han staring deeply into the emptiness of his tent. you look at him now, really look at him while he's distracted.

his eyes really are pretty, glowing here in the dark and shining a little thanks to the reflection of the fire lit in his tiny lamp. you inch a little closer to him now, slowly just until your thighs press against the side of his.

"erm- what are you doing?" han instantly pulls away.

"cold? i warm you." you offer, bringing your knees to your chest in an attempt to make yourself small. you figure maybe he's a little apprehensive to be too close to you. you did happen to zap him earlier.

han lets out a sigh and crawls back to his seat next to you, the side of his body pressed firmly against yours.

"damn, you're really hot." he chuckles before inhaling sharply at the double meaning. he doubts you'd understand.

"i know. you shake." you coo, draping one arm over his shoulders and pulling him to you a little more firmly.

han stiffens at your side, head awkwardly pressed against the side of your chest. he can faintly hear the rhythm of your heartbeat and his eyes widen.

"whoa, thats so cool!" han exclaims, pulling away from you.

you tilt your head in confusion as han gently cups the back of your neck to pull your ear against his own chest. you gasp at the sound.

"so slow!" you yell, looking up at him in awe.

"and yours is so fast." han chuckles, resting his head against your chest once more.

you let him wrap himself around you, the weight of today falling on han's shoulders as he subconsciously slips into a state of sleep. you watch as his blinking slows, until his lids flutter into a final close. his breathing evens then, warm air tickling the side of your chest with his every exhale. a deep rumble starts within your chest, a vibration that spreads throughout your whole body until the tips of your fingers. you reach up to delicately stroke his hair away from his face, his smooth skin and sharp nose drawing your attention.

"so pretty," you mumble, your own eyes fluttering shut to the sound of han's heavy breathing.

when jisung wakes, he's cold and shirtless. he sits up abruptly, throwing the weighted blanket off his upper body and scrambling for his slides. its far too early for his heart to be beating this fast, but panic settles in his chest when he registered your absence.

"y/n?" he croaks, hastily unzipping the flap to his tent and all but throwing himself outside.

"morning!" you cheer, hair wet and dripping onto what was han's shirt from yesterday, now damp and hanging awkwardly on your frame, as you'd shoved an arm and your head into one hole, stretching the fabric around you. in one hand, you hold a sharp, pointed stick. impaled on it are several colorful fish, flopping in an attempt to escape their inevitable death.

on the other hand, your clothes from last night.

"oh." jisung exhales, hands coming up to clutch at his chest.

"i.. i catch these!" you beam, extending the stick to him.

jisung can't help but giggle a little. "yes. i see that. thank you. my errr- my shirt?"

you look down as if just remembering that you'd stolen his shirt from him in his sleep.

"oh! i... i walk to the water to clean me, i see in the water this," you shrug to the fish, "but then i cant reach! so i go in and catch them. but i get wet. so i take off. but then i see people and i remember what u say to me. 'general public dont want naked body.'" you finish seriously, voice lowered in an attempt to mimick han's.

han's heart drops at the mention of other people.

"you.. you saw someone? where?"

you turn and point to a clearing not far from the other edge of the river.

"a man. like you!" you cry excitedly. "can we meet?"

"no." han's voice is firm as he wraps his hand around your arm, pulling you to the tent. "lets cook that fish for lunch. maybe we should go back to the city." he thinks aloud to himself. not a lot of people know about this campsite, somewhat of a private haven shared between his friends. minho's father used to take them camping here, and the only other people who know of this site are minho's close friends. he's a little worried to run into someone he knows right now with you here with him. not that he wants to hide you or anything...

"the city!" you screech, plopping yourself down on the floor. "i want to see! i hear about the... the things you move in? the big.." you proceed to gesture wildly, hands reaching out to grip onto something and steering left and right.

"yes, a car?" han offers, turning the burner on as he watches you with fondness.

"ohhh yes! i want car." you sigh dreamily.

han approaches you as he lets the food cook, snorting to himself as he reaches out to fix your shirt. gently, he raises the collar and removes your arm, shooting it in the right hole.

"there. you're like a big baby."

"your baby! ha ha ha ha." you joke, looking to han for validation.

instead, his cheeks redden and he shrugs. "i guess, yea?" he turns away from you as he reaches into his duffel for a shirt of his own.

a couple of beats of silence pass before you turn to han. "do you have mate?"

han chokes on his own saliva, doubling over in pain as he slaps his own chest.

"i- what?"

honestly, you have no idea what possessed you to ask that question. you suppose its the curiosity in you. but another part of you is less naive. you know whats happening with han. after last night, the way you fell asleep in his arms with his heartbeat in your ear. he's sweet to you, kind and patient. you wonder if humans do these things to each other regularly, or if, like your kind, such special moments are reserved for special people. you sincerely hope its the latter.

"i just... wonder. like elizabeth and mister darcy." you mumble.

han chuckles at that. "oh. right, then. no. i dont have a mate. do you?"

you blush. you didnt expect him to ask you the same question. you firgure you're fine with opening up to han.

"i did."

han's eyes widen as his whole body turns to you in bewilderment.

"what?" he squeaks.

you give him a small smile filled with nothing but sadness. "not now. i did have but now no." you clarify, shrugging.

"aren't mates for life or something? what do you mean you dont have one now?"

you stare at him blankly. han suddenly feels as if he's overstepped. "i'm sorry, i didnt mean to-"

"mate is a bad man." you sigh, gaze dropping to the floor.

han swallows, staying silent in fear that making a sound would somehow change your mind about sharing something so personal with him.

you stare at him thoughtfully for a minute before you continue. "he was forced mate. for me. i dont choose," you explain, brows furrowing. "he want me but i dont want him."

"why?" han cant stop himself from asking.

you make a face, and han laughs. "ugly?"

"very."

"so what happened?"

you shrug. "he try to mate me. i say no. he say yes! i hurt him. he send me down here."

"thats horrible." han shivers, pouting at you.

"yes. worst punishment. earth." you sigh, shaking your head.

"hey, its not that bad." han bumps you with his shoulder, trying desperately to lighten the somewhat heavy mood.

"yes. not bad." you say genuinely, holding his gaze.

han coughs awkwardly and smiles sheepishly at you before he stands abruptly. "you should come to the city with me. you can stay at my place for a while and get used to things and then maybe... i dunno. we'll see. how does that sound?"

you simply stare up at him with a blank expression on your face.

han swallows before starting once more, "we go to the city. my house. you stay and then.... you leave. when you want."

"oh yes!" you yell excitedly, "in the.. uhm car?" you're eager.

"yea... its kind of a long ride though, you'll probably grow bored."

han could not be more wrong. from helping him pack up his tent to bringing his stuff to his car, to squeezing everything into the backseat, to settling down in the passenger seat- you're absolutely buzzing. if you were locked in a room, han's sure you'd be bouncing off the walls.

"what is that?" you point out to the green fields just outside your window.

"thats a cow," han answers your umpteenth question of the day.

"and that?"

"another cow."

"that?"

"still a cow."

"and this?" you finally turn your attention to the things inside the car. your finger glides across the top of the stereo, fiddling with the buttons and twisting the knobs.

"thats the radio. it plays music, see?" han turns the radio on to a random station, a song he recognizes by gorillaz playing softly.

you stare in awe. "whats that language?"

"music," han hums along, turning the volume up.

"when you're close to me~ dun dun, dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun," han's thumbs drum along to the beat on his steering wheel.

"i like that. ha ha ha," you offer thoughtfully, trying (and failing) to match the way han bobs his head along to the music.

"yea? thats good. we have something in common."

by the time han pulls into the parking right under his unit, you've somewhat calmed down. admittedly, he swears he didnt mean to, but his mind wandered to the man you crossed paths with in the woods. what if he saw how... different you looked? he imagines you thrashing wildly in the river, catching fish with your bare hands. he worries his bottom lip until he can feel a little bit of blood. what if he told someone? what if someone comes to take you away from him?

not that han feels like he owns you in any way, but he cant explain the feeling of responsibility he has over you. he tries to tell himself its silly. you've known each other for 2 days! and yet when han watches you stare out the window in awe, he feels his heart beat erratically in his chest and his cock twitch in interest. do you even feel that way for him?

you on the other hand, are completely confused. han starts to get quieter and quieter the nearer you get to his home. you start to wonder if he's suddenly regretting bringing you here. he starts to zone out, completely ignoring your questions. you figure maybe he's grown tired of your yapping, constantly asking him questions. instead, you busy yourself with staring out the window.

honestly, you can find some similarities between his planet and yours. the tall buildings that seem to tower over everyone, the way people seem to walk with purpose, a destination in mind. there are many different creatures on this planet, some that walk on all fours and are significantly smaller than humans. han tells you they are called "animals" and that there are lots of different kinds. han tells you he has one in his apartment. a "dog" he calls bbama.

"just... stay right behind me, alright?" han says anxiously, keys tight in his hand.

you're starting to get a little nervous yourself. clutching tightly on to the straps of his bag.

han exhales as he pushes open his front door. "bbama baby? daddy's home!"

the little puppy bounds excitedly for the door, barking and yipping at his feet. han coos down at him, gently settling his bags down by the door and moving in to allow you some space to enter.

"we have a visitor, bbam! say hi." han scoops his little baby up to his chest and holds him out to smell you.

you stay frozen in fear, the furry creature sniffing at you wildly before his tongue darts out to lick at your hand.

"HE GOT ME. HE GOT ME." you start to sob, backing into the farthest corner and clutching at your hand as if in pain. bbama is taken aback by your loudness and starts barking, tail wagging as if to say he enjoys this game.

"its okay, its okay! he likes you!" han reassures you, biting down on his tongue to keep from laughing.

"he.. he attack me! with his mouth!" you accuse, waving your fingers in his face.

"noooo, he kissed you! its a way to show you like someone, see?" han lifts bbama up to his face, who immediately starts licking his cheek enthusiastically.

you watch, still a little apprehensive. you lower your hands, scooting a little closer to the furry ball in han's arms.

"he... he's so small." you note, tilting your head to scan bbama's whole figure.

"yea, hes just a baby. he's totally harmless." han coos, setting bbama down on the floor. the dog immediately runs to your legs, jumping up and down.

you only stare at him. "what is.... his purpose. like why?"

han is a little taken aback by your question. "for friendship?" he offers.

you seem satisfy with his answer, carefully stepping over the dog as it continues to nip at your pants, weaving in and out from between your legs as you walk around han's apartment. its nice and cozy, bright with lots of windows to let in light. his living room is cute, a long couch and a tv, a funky rug in the middle.

han watches you look around, rocking back and forth on his heels as he takes a deep breath. "uhm.. so this is where i live." he says weakly.

you nod. "its nice." you hum, running your fingers along the countertop in his kitchen. you continue to look around until your gaze lands on him, fixed on the way he seems to wait for your approval.

"okay. well, uhm. you can sleep in my room and ill take the couch."

you tilt your head. "why apart?"

han swallows. "well.. i mean- its just.. not right..." your heart sinks a little. not right?

"i want near you. like in your tent." you refer to the night han slept in your arms.

"no! that.. that cant happen again. you sleep in my room. i sleep here." han's voice is final. he cant allow himself near you, guilt suddenly eating at the way his body reacts to you. he knows he cant help but be attracted to you. its just the fact that you're so naive, so clueless to the way he yearns to touch you. he feels like a total perv.

your brows furrow in confusion. you thought maybe you were past this weird awkwardness with han. he seems to prove you wrong now, eyes darting nervously across the room and to the floor, as if mapping out a way for him to get out of this conversation.

"you dont want me?" you ask sternly.

"what? no! i dont-"

han is interrupted by the sound of keys jingling by his door. his heart drops when he remembers he's home two days early. he'd asked minho to house sit for him.

"oh. you're back?" minho opens the front door before han can successfully close the door stopper, making him look like a fool as he lunges awkwardly forward and quickly stopping himself.

"oh- yea i dont feel well." he forces out a weak cough.

"riiiiight. okay who's this?' minho nods to you, who appears from the kitchen at the sound of another voice.

you gasp. "another human!" you quickly approach the pair, ignoring han's quick head shakes of no.

"err.. yea?" minho raises an eyebrow before turning to his friend. "seriously who is this?"

"no one! just some random i said id give a ride home aha haha," han sweats.

no one? you are no one now? you give han a stern look before you lock eyes with the stranger.

"i am y/n."

"cool. i am minho. where you from?"

"im from zemenia!"

"oh... cool. exotic."

"thats enough getting to know each other! bye bye now." han quickly pushes minho forcefully by the chest, nudging him until his whole body is out in the hall.

"you still have to pay me for the 2 days, alright?" minho says.

"whatever, fuck off. bye!" han throws himself against the door dramatically, huffing and running a hand through his hair.

"that was close," he chuckles, turning to you.

your face does not match the wide smile he so proudly wears. your face is twisted in a scowl, arms crossed in front of you.

"what?" han squeaks.

"why? why do you hide me?" you storm away, plopping yourself on han's couch.

"what are you talking about?" han whines, chasing after you. "what if minho found out about where you're from? who you are? what you are?"

he spits the words out as if disgusted. could that be it? han is disgusted by who you are? what you are?

"ah, so you are ashamed." you're quick to argue.

han cant believe his ears. where is this coming from? he falls to his knees in front of you. "what? no! im not ashamed of you."

"then why do you hide me? you are so confusing. you hold me and say things to me and i like that feeling. but then you act weird. and say you dont want to stay near me. and you hide me from other humans! and then you almost kill me with your bbama!" you're throwing your hands in the air, clearly agitated.

han's frowning. he knows you must feel confused, overwhelmed. but he's also smiling at the back of his head. "y/n-"

"i... i dont know! these feelings. inside.. i dont- i dont feel these things at home. i- this is all so different! and you're confusing me." you groan, kicking your legs up to the couch and hugging them to your chest.

han sighs. "no.. you got it all wrong. let me explain, okay?"

"⏃⌇⌇⊑⍜⌰⟒" you bite back.

"hey. i dont like the sound of that." han whimpers.

you only roll your eyes.

han sits up with a sigh, crawling slowly next to you. he grabs you by the knees and forces you to turn your body towards him. his fingers rest there, gently caressing the skin there.

"look, i am not. ashamed of you. at all. i think you're the coolest thing to ever happen to me! which is why... im scared." han sighs.

you look up at him, fearful. "you scare of me?"

"no! i just- im scared that... someone's gonna take you away from me as fast as i got you, you know?"

you nod, timid.

"and im.. a little overwhelmed. that feeling you feel? with all the... feelings in you? and you're all confused, right? thats how i feel too! like... its kinda weird because we've known each other for such a short amount of time but.. i just feel... i feel something for you." han finishes off quietly, gaguing your reaction.

you only stare back.

okay, lets try again. "i.. im like mr darcy. and you're elizabeth. except i havent read the book so i dont know if they end up together... do they?"

"they are together."

"yea, so like.. i like you. but i feel bad."

"but why?" you whisper.

"because... i feel like im taking advantage of you... i feel like. you only know me. i feel like im trapping you. and i feel like its going too fast." han rushes everything out, like he's rapping.

you blink at him. "are humans... slow?"

han lets out a chuckle. "well, much slower than this." he gestures between the two of you.

"but. you like me. i like you. what is the problem?" you say, like its the easiest thing on earth.

han is caught off guard by how sincerely you look at him. maybe it could be the easiest thing on earth. maybe he's too in his head about everything.

you reach out to hold his hand, breaking him out of his trance. "no problem, yes?"

he huffs. "no problem."

han spends the rest of the afternoon making it up to you. he cooks you some food without setting his kitchen on fire, which, in his books, counts as a miracle. he watches as your eyes light up with every spoonful, the flavors exploding in your mouth. he holds your hand in understanding as he tells you how everything back at home tasted the same. he makes a promise to feed you everything ever.

he lets you watch everything your heart desires, heart hammering in his chest as you watch his favorites with the same enthusiasm as him. he answers all your questions with patience, never once making you feel like a burden. you appreciate that.

and later, after youve both showered (he insisted on doing this separately lest he get a heart attack), he dresses you up in his comfiest clothes and settles you on the bed next to him. you watch him in anticipation. he swallows, turning to shut the lights off.

"hannie," you coo, reaching for his hand.

"yes?" he tries to be nonchalant.

"you dont want to touch me?"

he fails.

"i- i dont know..."

"we do that at home too, you know?' you tease him.

his heart falls just a little. "oh. youve done it?"

you shake your head, no. "mate for life. remember?"

han swallows. "r-right."

"you shake. you scared?" you try your best to calm him down, sitting up beside him.

"well, i- just never done it, too." he mumbles.

"good. we learn together."

you're a fast learner, apparently. han showed you how to kiss, gentle and slow. yet you're here on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck as you kiss him incessantly. he can do nothing but take it, desperate hands clutching at your sides in an attempt to ground himself.

its so wet and sloppy, your saliva mixing with his and creating a puddle that leaks out the corner of his mouth in drool. it makes him dizzy, the way your tongue pushes against his.

"i- wait, lets slow down." he manages to squeak before you devour his mouth once more.

"you humans and your slow." you hum, pulling away just slightly to allow han some space to breathe.

he looks so pretty like this, eyes glazed over and cheeks rosy. his glasses are askew, lips shiny with spit. you lean over to lick at his cheek, the way he told you those who like each other do.

"there. you feel that i like you, right?"

han thinks its lethal, the way you do things that are just so dirty, and you're so unaware. he's never been this hard, and all you've done is just kiss him a little.

"y-yes. i like you too." han coos, hand resting at your nape and applying pressure to push your face closer to his, lips finding yours once more.

"i feel like i like you more." you pout at him.

han shakes his head. "no way," his voice is so much thicker, so much deeper as he leans forward to press his lips against yours.

you deny him a third time. "hannie, show me you like me." you whisper.

he blinks up at you stupidly. "h-how?"

you reach for his hands and drag them to the hem of your shirt. he understands, quickly undressing you and throwing the fabric to the opposite corner of his room.

"you're so beautiful." he gasps in awe, chin resting against your chest as he looks up at you.

"you can touch me. its okay." you reassure him, dragging his fingers along your bare torso. he relishes in the feeling of your warm skin against his, tips of his fingers gliding along inches upon inches of your skin, up and down your sides and across the front of your stomach. you hum, fingers tangling in his hair as you watch him explore you.

"want you to take off, too." you sigh, pulling at his shirt. he complies with no protest. hes back to kissing you the instant his shirt is off, hands coming up to cup your cheeks and pull you infinitely closer to him. he licks into your mouth eagerly, taking every drop of spit in your mouth as if its meant for him. you allow him to, letting out little sounds and squeaks.

"need you to ride me, please? will you ride me, baby?" han whimpers against your lips, hands groping at your chest.

"show me how," you're breathless when you pull away, leaving enough space for han to shimmy his pants off your hips. he groans at the sight of your thighs, plush and ready to be marked. you're eager for him, spreading your legs to show the slit in between your thighs.

he watches in awe as you dip two fingers into your hole, scissoring the digits until you feel you've loosened yourself up enough.

"you, please. off." you mumble.

han obeys instantly, rushing to push his jeans down his thighs, shaking the fabric off until it sits at his ankles. you blink once you take in the size of his cock, hard and aching for you.

han suddenly grows shy, hands cupping his cock as his ears grow red. "whats wrong? is it.. is it okay?"

"its... big. not as big at home." you exhale shakily.

his dick twitches. you think he's big?

"its okay, let me eat you out, itll feel better when its wet." he promises, pulling you to sit on his face.

you back away in panic. "you eat me?" you ask in shock.

han laughs, breathless. "no baby, not literally! just... let me show you, okay? trust me?" he hums, stroking your thighs gently.

"o-okay." you relax in his hold, allow him to maneuver you until your core sits right at his open mouth.

"relax, baby, i got you." han coos, before he lets his tongue out to scoop the liquid in between your thighs.

the taste immediately goes straight to his head, making him dizzy and hot. he lets out a low groan. now, han is a munch. he loves eating pussy. all kinds of pussy, truthfully! he's not one to discriminate. he thinks every pussy is unique and none of them should be compared to one another.

yours though? oh he means it deep in his balls when he says its the best. the taste is different, genuinely sweet like honey as it trickles down his throat. he swallows up everything you have to offer to him, growing deaf to the way you moan pitifully above him, ignoring the painful sting that your fingers bring when you pull at his hair.

"hannie! thats.. good! i- i ⍜⊑ ⋔⊬ ⎎⎍☊☍ ⏁⊑⏃⏁⌇ ⌇⍜ ☌⍜⍜⎅!" han chuckles against your mound, sticking his tongue as deep into you as he can. he thinks he's tripping now, lightheaded as his blood rushes south. suddenly everything's so sensitive, his senses heightened. every time your fingertips brush against his face he jolts a little, the sweat on his back suddenly too wet, too much for him to bare.

you fall apart on his tongue with a cry and han hums in triumph, swallowing the nectar you gift him. you shake on top of him and han drags you down to his lap, sitting up to wrap his arms around you.

"good?" he asks, cocky.

"yes," you sob, eager to kiss him as thanks. he accepts gratefully, tongue swirling with yours as he situates you on top of his aching cock.

"can i put it in, baby? please. please let me fuck you, y/n." he begs, pathetic.

you hum, your forehead resting against his. "you have to ask some more. thats how it is."

han whimpers. you're making him beg for it? how cruel. "please, baby. i'm literally so hard right now, it hurts so bad. never been this hard. need to put it in your pussy so bad,"

"hurts?" you coo condescendingly, wrapping your slender fingers around his cock.

han can only whimper as you tug on his dick. "please,"

you give in to him then, "put it in, then."

he scrambles to wrap his hand around his base, rubbing the tip along your slit to catch the wetness there before he presses in. you bite your bottom lip, the stretch getting to you.

"im sorry baby, does it hurt? i bet it hurts so bad." he hates that he's hurting you, but he cant deny the way he throbs harder at the face you make, eyes squeezed shut and mouth gaping open. he pulls you closer, shoving his tongue into your mouth in an attempt to distract you from the pain.

you sloppily kiss him as he sets you deeper onto his cock, your thighs shaking from the effort. you let out a gasp once you take him to the base, feeling so full.

"oh my holy fuck," han gasps, bringing his fist to his mouth and biting down on his knuckles in an attempt to holding off his orgasm.

he's just started, and he can already feeling it end.

what kind of alien pussy magic is this?

"oh!" you exhale, hands gripping tightly onto han's shoulders. "its.. a lot," you're speechless.

"it feels so good," han whines, arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

you start to move then, rocking your hips back and forth, driving han absolutely crazy.

"fuck, yes. take my cock baby. its yours now." he babbles.

"mine?" you coo, nuzzling into his cheek.

"you can have my whole house. take everything i own. just dont stop moving your hips like that, please." his mouth is filthy, and you only smile.

"like this?" han whines when you speed up, fingers scratching the skin on your back.

"im so sorry baby i think im gonna cum." han pouts as he looks up at you, looking genuinely sorry. "i cant hold it."

he's not usually this sensitive, but something in the way your pussy hugs him just right has him losing his goddamn mind.

"its okay, hannie. i like you so much." you coo, holding him close. he shoves his face in between your breasts as you ride him for everything he has, cumming wildly with a shout. he spills inside you, eyes squeezing shut as tears threaten to spill down his cheeks.

mygod. its good enough to make a man cry.

you hold him gently, soothing him with scratches down his back. its a long while before han pulls away from you, sweaty and red in the face.

"ill do better next time, promise." he pouts at you.

"ha ha ha. we have all the time. promise." you coo back, wiping away the strands that litter across his forehead.

"thats true. you're not going anywhere anymore." he pulls out of you and swiftly tackles you to the bed, a squeak slipping past your lips as han holds you down against the bed, his sweaty body pressing against yours. he brings his ear up to rest against your chest, the quick boom boom lulling him to sleep. you watch with fondness as han starts to snore, your fingers gently rubbing up and down his back.

how ironic for you to find home a million miles away from where it was once. he thinks its a little out of the ordinary, this love you two will share. who cares though, really?

han's got his fantasy alien baddie girlfriend.

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“Jeongin, I’m too old for this,” you say through gritted teeth, as you grip the hem of your plaid uniform skirt. The sweater vest too, feels tight over your chest and the tie feels almost suffocating. It just reminds you of your school days with Jeongin—and all the worst parts of it.

Jeongin, clad in his own school uniform-esque costume, chuckles as he places both hands on the steering wheel and squeezes it tightly, his knuckles paling from the strength. “Come on. It’s a trend, we won’t be the only ones.” He removes one hand from the steering wheel briefly to finger the tie around his own neck, tucked beneath a navy blue sweater vest. The two of you are practically matching, having dressed yourselves in your old uniforms. Though a little tight and a little short, Jeongin insisted that it would work, that it was a cute trend on social media to dress up in school uniforms and go to theme parks like Lotte.

The skirt rides up your ass, and you can feel the backs of your thighs sticking to the leather seats of Jeongin’s car. It only adds to the annoyance that’s crawling its way up your throat. It was a nice gesture—again, you did say that this was once a dream of yours—but it’s not a current dream, and you know that neither of you really have time for this, considering the fact that Jeongin basically kidnapped you from a study session for an exam that both of you were probably going to fail. At least you had your best friend beside you at university too, you tried to console yourself. Even if from time to time he did pull mildly annoying scandals such as the one you found yourself in currently.

Outside, the summer sun glints against the dark asphalt of the road, and Jeongin revs the engine of the car, speeding up as you stick your head out the window and hold your hair out of your face as you grin. The wind whips through your hair, against your skin, but it feels good in the humid summer heat. Better than the still air inside Jeongin’s car. Much better than the stiller, warmer air inside both of your dorm rooms back at school.

You pull your head back inside of the car, giggling to yourself as you try to fluff your hair back into something manageable and adjust your clothing that’s slipped out of place. As you do so, you miss the way that Jeongin stares at you, side eyeing you with an intense gaze as he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he looks you up and down. Before you look back at him, he moves his eyes back to the road, catching his lower lip between his teeth as he realizes you definitely fill out this uniform differently than you did in high school—in a good way. A really good way.

“Are we almost there?” you ask, overemphasizing the monotony of your voice to sound bored.

“Shut up,” Jeongin says playfully, rolling his eyes and pretending like he’s fed up with you. As if he isn’t actually fed up with you six out of seven days of the week.

Before you can give him a snarky response, he pulls into a large parking lot and finds a spot quickly, parking the car and giving you a smug smile. He unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the car, grabbing his stuff. Scowling, you follow his lead, shouldering your purse and shoving your phone into the small bag.

“You better take cute photos of me,” you crow loudly, your voice echoing off the asphalt and making Jeongin whine and annoyingly place his hands over his ears.

“You know I will,” he says, sticking his tongue out at you, “as long as you take good ones of me too. I have to update my Instagram.” Speaking of which, he seems to light up at the thought of—and he pulls his phone out of his pocket and begins scrolling through the social media app as you walk up to the ticket booth.

He continues scrolling through his phone, angling his screen away from you which makes you suck in an annoyed breath through your teeth. As his best friend, you surely weren’t entitled to see everything on his phone—but on that same note of being his best friend, what would he want to hide from you?

“Good morning,” you say sweetly to the girl working the ticket booth, and she gives you a mere exhausted glance that says, I don’t want to be here at eight on the morning on a weekend, before scanning your tickets and letting you both in the park. Jeongin finally pockets his phone when the two of you walk in, and you nudge him.

“Welcome back to reality,” you say dramatically, as you reach down to tug your skirt down a little—you realized, with distaste, that your skirt is riding up with every few steps that you take. Jeongin notices too, his cheeks flushing a light pink as his gaze roams over the soft curves of your thighs and the supple flesh of your ass that threatens to show every time your skirt rides up.

“Maybe you were right about the uniforms being too small,” he mutters, tearing his gaze away from your thighs and behind. He can feel the breeze on his ankles; his pants are too short and unlike your too-small uniform, which makes you look sexy, his makes him look stupid.

“Maybe,” you say with only a little snark as you tug your skirt down again.

Jeongin resists the urge to reach over and pinch your cheeks and baby talk you, knowing how much it pisses you off when he teases you like that. Instead, the corners of his lips twitch upwards into a crooked smile, and he chuckles softly at your sassy response.

He looks away from you, not wanting to stare, and sees an ice cream stand not too far away. “Want some ice cream?” he asks, reaching into his pocket for his wallet as you follow his gaze to the stand. Colorful images of ice cream and ice pops cover the small stand, enticing your appetite.

Nodding, you bite your lower lip and reach into your purse, which Jeongin finds endearing. You never expect him to pay, but you never complain about him offering either.

“I got it,” he mumbles, tapping your hand as you start to pull your wallet out. You grin playfully bump into him, but he doesn’t trip or fumble—he’s much stronger now; when you used to do that when you two were younger, he would often misstep and scold you for being too rough.

You order a plain vanilla cone after spotting the increased amusement park prices, though Jeongin gets himself a mint chocolate one. “Fancy,” you say, tapping your cone against his once he’s handed his ice cream. “Thanks for paying, sugar daddy.”

Jeongin’s ears turn bright red at the title and he glares at you as you walk away from the ice cream stand. “Don’t be gross,” he groans, taking a bite of his mint chocolate ice cream. He looks over at you, immediately regretting it as he sees white vanilla ice cream dripping down your chin, your too-short skirt riding up your ass at the same time. He looks away, his heart thudding wildly in his chest and his pants tightening at the crotch.

Meanwhile, you’re trying to wipe up the dripping mess that’s making its way down your lips and chin. The ice cream had been quite melted when it was handed to you due to the summer heat, and you found it melting faster than you could consume it. Annoyingly, it dripped down your hands as well, which meant that you couldn’t pull down your skirt without getting melted ice cream absolutely everywhere.

“D—do you need help?” Jeongin asks in a strained voice, having abandoned his own ice cream cone in a random trash can. He had crushed the cone accidentally upon seeing the state you were in, and decided that the ice cream was more trouble than it was worth at that point—and it had been worth a lot, after seeing the final charge on his credit card.

“Maybe,” you say lowly, sulkily. You too toss the remainder of your ice cream into a nearby trash can, and Jeongin pulls out a few napkins that he’d hastily grabbed from the stand before leaving. He hands them to you, and you manage to sop up the mess that had dripped down your hands and wrists, effectively straightening out your skirt as well. Jeongin swallows hard before leaning forward and using his thumb to wipe away the last droplet of ice cream that was running down your chin, and you watch with shock and surprising lust as he sticks his digit in his mouth to lick it clean.

You clear your throat loudly, turning away as your cheeks begin to heat up from embarrassment. “Should we try one of the rides?” you ask, averting your gaze from your best friend—who was suddenly the most attractive guy you’d ever seen.

“Sure, which one do you wanna try?” he asks, giving you the choice.

Fuck. You’re indecisive.

“Um…” you look around the park to see what’s nearby, and your gaze lands on a massive ferris wheel that’s going around quite slowly. It’s the only thing in sight, and you feel like you might throw up your ice cream from the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach alongside it if you go on a ride that’s any more intense. “How about the ferris wheel over there?” you ask, swallowing down a would-be oddly timed compliment as you realize just how much Jeongin has filled out since your high school days.

Jeongin follows your pointing and nods when he sees the ferris wheel, reaching up to push his bangs out of his eyes. “Sure, looks fun,” he says, grinning at you. He nudges you aside playfully, a little roughly, as he starts to jog towards the ferris wheel, looking back at you over his shoulder to see if you were following.

And following you were. As soon as you stumbled a little from the initial nudge, you started jogging after him, speeding up as he did until you were both running and laughing as you ran down the asphalt pathway towards the giant ferris wheel. Gasping for breath and with laughter, you grab onto his arm and he pulls you towards him until you’re both running hand in hand. You feel yourself blushing, your cheeks warm with excitement as his large hand grips yours tightly. He doesn’t let go, not even when you both come to a halt, panting and chuckling while you’re both incredibly out of breath.

“We’re here,” he says hoarsely, nodding towards the ferris wheel. There’s only a short line, and you can tell that it’ll move quickly since there are so many seats on the large ride, despite it being one of the longer rides at the park.

Soon, before you and Jeongin can fully catch your breaths, the ferris wheel screeches to a halt and everyone files out as their car reaches the ground. People begin filing in, and you and Jeongin step into a small white car that’s surprisingly more roomy than you thought. The windows are thick, and you can’t really see into them as well as you can see out of them. When you’re up in the air, surely, no one would be able to see you in there at all.

The door latches shut behind Jeongin as he steps inside, and the two of you sit across from each other in the small car, giggling softly at the situation as you start rising slowly into the sky.

“Sorry if you didn’t want to ride this one. It was the first one I saw and I panicked,” you say, kicking your feet and pursing your lips.

“I don’t mind, really. I let you pick for a reason. And I know, you’re indecisive,” he says, raising his eyebrows at you as he leans in slightly, his body moving forward towards you ever so slightly. It makes you hold your breath unknowingly for a moment, and you stare into his eyes for that very same moment before you turn your gaze out the window and look down at the scenery below. You’re not quite at the top yet, perhaps halfway up, but it’s already made a difference from simply standing on the ground.

“You look… really good in that uniform, by the way,” Jeongin says softly, and you turn back to look at him, feeling warmth coursing through your veins as you swallow hard.

“And I didn’t back in high school?” you ask teasingly, aware that your skirt has ridden up again. This time though, you don’t bother pulling it back down, instead shifting and changing the position you’re sitting in to show off more of your legs to Jeongin, who definitely notices.

“Don’t tease,” he says in a low voice, throwing his head back as he inhales deeply. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?” you ask innocently, your heart beating faster as you hope that he feels the same way about you, that this isn’t a dream and it’s reality.

“You’re fucking irresistible to me right now. But not just right now, all the time. I like you, so much more than just a friend. And it’s driving me insane to just sit here and say nothing about it, especially when all you do is tease me,” he says in an outburst, his chest heaving as he looks you in the eye, wordlessly begging you to say something, do something—for anything to happen to cut the silence that fills the car after his confession.

You don’t say anything, but you do do something. Your lips are on his before he can beg you again, verbally this time. You’re kissing him so hard that you can feel the car rocking slightly as you press all of your weight against him, and he finally kisses you back after the initial shock. He kisses you roughly, messily, pushing you back and rocking the car back to its original position as you two tumble to the floor in the middle of the car. It’s sticky and it’s nasty and it’s dirty with who knows what, but neither of you really give a fuck as you feel each other up for the first time.

His hands are on your tits, squeezing and groping roughly as he moans into the kiss—he’s dreamt about this for so long, and the too-tight sweater vest you’re wearing was driving him crazy all morning long.

Meanwhile, your hands have snuck into his pants, and you’re palming him over his boxer briefs, feeling the wet spot from his leaking tip. It only grows as you palm him more, harder.

“Can you make it quick?” you ask, momentarily getting up on your knees to peer out the window. You’re perhaps three quarters of the way up now, and you both know that you don’t have much time to get shit done in between now and the time that you’re visible from the ground again.

“I can make it anything you want it to be, babe,” he says cockily, grabbing you by the hips and tugging you back to the floor, making you squeak in surprise as you land backwards in his lap, nearly in the reverse cowgirl position. You both squirm around until you’re fully in that position, and you raise your hips ever so slightly so that he can slip his cock out from his boxers and you can move your panties aside just enough for him to nudge the weeping tip of his cock against your dripping slit.

You both moan in unison as you finally make contact, and you start sinking down on his cock as soon as his tip nudges inside of your tight warmth. The stretch is painful, especially since you didn’t have the time to properly prep yourself for what was coming. The fact that Jeongin’s cock was so long and thick didn’t make it any easier either, as you tried to wedge it into your unprepared pussy. At least your combined slick aided the penetration, and before long his entire length was inside of you, leaving you whimpering and shivering on top of him.

He groans as you start to bounce on his cock, your ass jiggling in front of him. He stares in awe, unable to move for a moment, paralyzed with pleasure and disbelief that this was actually happening, that you actually wanted him just as he wanted you. Then he snaps back into reality, realizing that he can move and touch you, and he reaches forward to grip your ass cheeks, kneading the flesh in his calloused hands as he bites his lower lip to avoid moaning too loudly.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he gasps, squeezing your flesh harder in his hands as he starts to thrust up into you, the medium pace you’d set not nearly enough to satiate his hunger. Luckily, you were feeling the same way, squealing with pleasure as he starts to piston his hips up against yours, fucking into you roughly. “Wanted you for so long,” he growls, moving his hands up to your hips to pull you down on his cock even harder.

“M—me too,” you gasp, arching your back and whining as he presses his cock deep into you. You swirl your hips over his, making quiet little whimpery noises that drive Jeongin insane. “I’ve—I’ve always liked you, I think—”

Jeongin blushes, his cocky attitude fading slightly as his heart warms at your confession. Beneath all of the lust, all of the roughness, he really did like you, and he has for a long time. He’s not so secretly glad that you feel similarly. You can feel his emotions through the way his grip softens, the way his hips angle differently in order to find what feels best for you, not just for him.

You reach forward, feeling your orgasm slowly building. Surely, you must be close to the ground by now, and you want things to finish up quickly. Both so that you don’t get caught, and so that you can explore things in more depth after escaping the ferris wheel. Your fingers slip against your swollen, slick clit, bumping against Jeongin’s shaft as it thrusts in and out of your dripping cunt, and both of you groan lightly at the feeling. Shivering, before you can warn him, you feel yourself releasing all over his throbbing length, moaning his name unabashedly loudly, forgetting where you were momentarily as your thighs twitch with uncontrollable pleasure.

“Shit!” Jeongin groans, his hips bucking wildly as he feels your walls squeezing his cock even tighter than before. “C—can I cum inside?”

“G—god, yes, please,” you gasp, feeling your pussy throbbing with overstimulation and intense pleasure as he jackhammers into you desperately.

Jeongin chokes back a loud moan as he spills inside of you, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulls you as close as possible, burying his cock inside of your pussy as his thick seed fills you up.

The car swings slightly, and you catch a glimpse of the ground coming into view. You pull yourself up quickly, gasping as his cock slips out of your cock and with it comes a flood of his cum and your fluids, dripping down onto his lower stomach.

“We should probably get back to the car,” Jeongin says, pulling your panties back into place and giving your swollen cunt a quick slap, making you yelp and blush—though you couldn’t help but anticipate what he’d do to you next.

DIVIDER CREDIT: @plutism @v6que

@ petrichor-han 2024. do not translate or repost without my permission.

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its a long day. back to back lectures since 8 in the morning and you're tired. this time your class was being held in a small private classroom that nearly no one knew about except the people in this specific class.

neatly taking off your shoes outside the carpetted stairway.

noticing the larger pair of combat boots that are tucked away from all the other shoes.

mindlessly you keep your shoes near his. because he had mindlessly been doing that for the past few weeks. placing his shoes next to yours.

silently entering the class, only to realise you had losf track of time in the canteen. 10 mins since your class had begun and here you were.

heart thumping nervously at all the eyes on you, as you quietly scutter to an empty chair. the teacher has made all of y'all sit in a semi circle. for more integration and freedom.

and you find yourself seated directly across minho. taking in the sight of him entirely as your professor absentmindedly continues talking about something.

your eyes can't help but trail down to his hands. watching him crack his knuckles and adjust the rings he wore on his digits.

the black shirt complimenting his physique and his leisure way of sitting making your stomach churn with arousal.

why were you finding him so ravishing today? seeing him so upfront worked wonders on your imaginative brain.

blinking slowly as you thought of how his fingers would feel against your body. maybe even between your legs...

blushing heavily when he glances at you briefly. and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see him hide a smirk.

.

.

class is over and you're about to leave when you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. and you're quick to turn around.

masking on a kind smile which immediately falters.

"wait back with me..." its him.

bag slinging across his shoulder as he stands beside you. quietly waiting for everyone to leave. with a long stride, he closely the door of the classroom. latching it smoothly and for a second you think he's uncomfortable with you.

what if he noticed how obvious you were.

"u-uh is everything o-okay?" you mumble, taking a few steps back when he stands in front of you. minimizing the gap as much as possible.

"i don't know, you tell me..." he lets out, tilting his head with intent. your mouth opens and closes. going speechless and every single coherent thought escaping your mind.

"...i d-don't know" you stutter unconciously. struggling to maintain eye contact with him. looking anywhere but at his eyes.

"do you...." he starts off. clearing his throat before looking at the latched door for a second, turning to purse his lips at you in a somewhat shy manner.

your bag sliding off one of your shoulder's and falling on the ground with a soft thud when he holds your chin.

making you look up at him the whole time.

"do you want to eat ramyeon...with me?"

minho whispers. purposefully leaning closer to breath heavy on your parted lips. your own breath shaking as you unconciously refuse to create a gap between y'all.

"or am i just eye candy for you?" he adds with a playful tone.

"no! i mean...n-no. you're more than just...that"

you mumble, cheeks heating up furiously. eye candy? that meant he knew you were watching him.

"well this eye candy's wondering if you just wanna keep staring at him or instead do something about it..."

.

.

.

"is this what you were dreaming of"

minho whispers huskily, hand stuffed down your pants. pulling you higher up on his lap. fingers tracing over your cunt. your nervousness dying down when he touches you like he's meant to be the only one touching you so intimately.

"m-sorry" you whimper. feeling concerned with yourself for imagining such vile things. filthy dirty thoughts during innocent moments.

"no baby, this is what i dreamt of too"

rubbing his middle and ring finger up against your folds. teasingly feeling up your clit. knowing that this was the first time you'd let anyone touch you like this.

"dreamt of dirtier things...so fucking filthy"

slipping his digit past your entrance and you keen. stomach burning with the unfamiliar intrusion.

"thought of you riding me on one of these stupid chairs" minho breathes out. curling his digits upwards to rub your walls. grunting when you grind down on his fingers.

"m-me too...wanted to ride you...want to ride you"

you gasp out, covering your mouth at the risks y'all were taking. an empty locked classroom.

"your s-shoes" and he smiles.

"you noticed. couldn't get over the size difference"

he teases, pulling his fingers out to lick them seductively. deciding to draw fast rough circles on your clit. stimulating the bundle of nerves so fast that you shake in his hold.

"don't you have class?" he asks, knowing damn well that right now class was the last thing on your mind.

"i have you." you moan, praying that luck ws on your side and that you'd get the time to taste him...

.

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.

.

Minho presses the vibrator down on your clit hard and your back arches, the vibrations shuddering through your entire body. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, and it punches a strangled moan out of him, his hips jerking forward.

He’d already fucked one easy orgasm out of you, cock dragging in and out of you, his wet thumb rubbing messy circles into your clit. You’d tumbled over the edge early, toes curling, eyes rolling, gushing and gushing around Minho’s big, pulsing cock, and he’d fucked you through it, a slew of gentle praises falling from his lips that you could barely hear through the ringing in your ears.

But before he could make to pull out and jerk himself off over your body, you’d wrapped a hand around his arm and a leg around his waist and pulled him back inside you with a breathless “keep going”. Minho watched you closely, peering at you from underneath his sex-mussed mop of hair.

“You wanna try it today?”

A quick, desperate nod, and Minho had slid back in so deep you felt him kiss your cervix.

Because here was the thing – you could only come once. Except for a few, blessed times when you were ovulating and in the right headspace, your body refused to let you reach your peak twice in one sitting. No matter how turned on you were, how well Minho fucked you, how long he held back – it wouldn’t work.

So it’s become a thing you do, every now and again. Minho calls it your “training”. When you tell him you want to try, he does everything in his power to make you come. Which usually involves a shitton of lube, his cock grinding deep inside you and your vibrator, cranked to the highest setting, pressed against your clit.

And even if, at the beginning, it was mostly to your benefit, you pretty soon realised that Minho didn’t just do it for you. Maybe it was the way your walls quivered around him, or how you clenched when he pushed against your clit too hard, maybe he liked how he could use your body to edge himself – or it was just the sweetest kind of power trip; you under his hands, trembling and crying from overstimulation. Maybe it didn’t matter so much when he looked at you like this.

Eyes wild, yet deeply affectionate, trained on your every smallest expression as he lets his hips roll forward in a smooth motion. Fucking dancer’s body. But then he slightly adjusts the vibrator against your clit, presses against the most sensitive part of it, and you nearly howl, your thighs shaking violently.

You’ve been trying for more than half an hour and your body is no closer to release, no matter how badly you want it. You’re so turned on. Every drag of Minho’s cock feels so fucking good. But your body refuses.

Minho presses harder, moans weakly when you clench and clench around him, your body arching into the vibrations, the possibility, the barest hint of an orgasm building and building … before petering out into almost painful overstimulation.

You nearly sob out in frustration.

Minho shushes you gently, leans forward to cup your face in his warm palm. He turns the vibrator off and drops it next to you onto the sheets. The absence of it feels like pure relief after you had it buzzing against you for the better part of half an hour.

“I don’t think it’s gonna happen,” you mumble. Your eyes are closed stubbornly. No matter how many times Minho tells you that it’s not your fault, that he doesn’t blame you, that you don’t owe him anything, not one orgasm, definitely not two, you can’t help but feel like you failed a little bit. “Sorry.”

Minho tuts, shushes you, hooks your legs around his waist so he can lean over you without pulling out because he knows you like to stay filled for a little while. He loves you so much you can’t believe it sometimes.

You feel the gentle press of his lips against your temple, then your one cheek, then the other, before he presses a long kiss to your lips.

“You already gave me one beautiful orgasm, baby,” he hums, sighing dreamily. It makes you burn with embarrassment, and you whine, blink your eyes open, only to meet his smiling ones.“Shut up,” you murmur, but he shakes his head.

“Nope. It was beautiful. You should’ve seen yourself. Also felt so good around me, you always do.”

He leans in to kiss you again, and you let him. Let his tongue slide against yours in a lazy dance as he grinds his cock in slowly. It’s not for sexual gratification any more, really. Just to feel how close you are, how he fits inside of you. It feels nice.

Only when you’re panting into each other’s lips, does he pull away. He sits back on his haunches and looks down at where he’s buried in you. Massaging your legs with his warm hands, he starts pulling out, incredibly slowly, centimetre by centimetre. He makes a mournful sound.

“Oh, your poor little clit,” he sighs, and your face burns even more, “so red and overworked, when she’s so sensitive.”

You whine, throw your arm over your face.

“You know, I would never condone such mistreatment,” he continues, and that makes you scoff and look at him. He grins like the cat that got the cream.

“Oh, please,” you croak out, “you love torturing me. You get off on me squirming and crying on your dick. Sadist.”

He just hums, stares at your pussy until he leans down and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. Even though you’re sensitive, it feels nice. All the strain, the frustration made your usually wet, entrance run dry and the hot wetness is soothing.

“You’re all dried up, darling,” he mumbles against you, and you whimper when he rolls his tongue over your clit, “but still taste so good …”

You whine, sink your fingers into his hair, and he hums.

“Feel good?” he asks, and you nod blearily. It’s comforting, somehow. The gentle motions of his tongue making you feel loved, cared for; making the comedown easier.

“Keep going,” you gasp, and he understands it as the permission he needed.

“Perfect,” he purrs, licks deeper, though still not with the intention to make you come. Like he’s just tasting you, trying to soothe your hot, aching skin. It feels heavenly and you moan shakily.

Minho revels in your sound, wraps a hand around his cock, and moans with the first jerk. He must be close, unsurprisingly, after being buried inside of you for almost an hour. Blearily, he stares up at you, like he’s checking in on you. It’s a sinful picture, hunched over, chin glistening, his hand working over his cock. You want to eat him.

But he seems to have other plans. His eyes are hazy, and he shudders a little when he lets his tongue dip into your stretched entrance.

“Let me eat your poor, used little pussy while I jerk myself off, yeah?”

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

At least, you assume that's around how old Father Yang, who notably prefers to be called Jeongin, is– you've never been told, and you've never asked, but he certainly doesn't look any older than that.

Secondly, why are his sermons always at night? In all the towns you've ever lived in, in all the churches you've ever frequented, this is the first time you've ever experienced your standard, weekly Sunday service routinely happening at 9 p.m.

And thirdly, why is it that everyone who meets with him for confession comes back looking delirious and.. euphoric, almost? You don't get it– sure, confessing your sins is freeing; asking for and receiving God's forgiveness is among the best feelings that can be experienced if you're a devout believer, but still.

Something about all of it just doesn't sit right with you– and to make matters worse, you seem to be the only person in town suspicious of him. You're new to town, have only been here a handful of months, so you get it– you're the outsider, you don't know him like they do, et cetera, et cetera.

But how can not a single other person in town be bothered by how strange it all is? There has to be an explanation– you don't know what it is, and you don't know why you're the only one who seems to care, but there must be a reason.

It's Sunday again, and you spend the entire sermon watching Jeongin like a hawk, trying to catch any sign as to what it is about him that has all these people so enraptured. And while it's not necessarily wrong for him to be, another thing that strikes you is that he's easily the most casually dressed yet stylish priest you've ever met.

He wears the standard clergy vest and rabat, as he should, but over it is a leather jacket, and he wears denim blue jeans instead of dress pants. His shoes are sleek and polished, he has pretty, ornate rings decorating his fingers, has expertly styled slicked hair and silver earrings dangling from his pierced ears.

Again, it's not necessarily wrong, but it's definitely something you wouldn't think a priest's Sunday best would entail. And maybe that's only because the priests in your life have only ever been old, and didn't put much thought into style, but maybe that's what people like about him?

Maybe it makes him seem more down to earth and approachable; maybe it's easier to confess your sins when, outstanding devotion to God aside, he seems like as ordinary a person as any other. Of course, that's logically always the case, but some priests have an intimidating "holier-than-thou" attitude about them, and it certainly helps Jeongin's case that he seemingly makes an effort to not give off that vibe.

And admittedly, he's charming– there's something so uniquely handsome about the way he smiles while preaching God's word, how his eyes twinkle while he recites a scripture and relates it back to a point he made several minutes prior; you can't deny that it's enthralling.

But when he looks over the attendees lined in the pews, it always feels like he's looking straight through you, seeing to the depths of your soul and laying it bare. It gives you chills, honestly; makes you feel exposed in a way that's indescribable; like with a glance alone, he knows all your secrets, your every sin, down to their most minute details.

It's near midnight when his sermon ends; you stay seated in the backmost pew to the left, brows furrowed as everyone shakes his hand or hugs him, thanking him for another "terrific service." It's so bizarre– and it's not until the last of the congregation exits the small, wooden church that you begin to rise from your seat.

Though you're sure the church carries electricity and that the lights can be flicked on, the priest never does so– he always uses candles, casting a warm yellow glow on the dingy, white wood of the walls. It casts more shadows, gives the place an almost unsettling air– and when he turns to you, just as he's closing the Bible in his hand and setting it down, it sends a shiver through you.

"You're still here," Jeongin smiles at you from where he stands before the altar, centralized at the head of the church. It's a kind enough one, but you don't trust it; you can't shake the feeling that something lies beneath it– something abberant and dark that you can't place, but are certain is there.

"Do you wish to confess?" he asks, motions to the confessional booth with his hand as he tilts his head. "No," you answer, perhaps too quickly– and his smile grows ever so slightly, as if he's amused. At least, that's how you perceive his expression; and it makes you narrow your eyes at him, the distrust that radiates off you certainly palpable.

Your opinion of him is no secret, really; and he can tell you're scrutinizing him, trying to catch him in whatever act you think he's playing– it won't work, but it does humor him that you're trying. He doesn't know what sort of wild conclusions you've come to about him, but if you see anything, it'll be because he himself wanted you to see it– until then, you won't learn a single thing about who he truly is.

"Is there a reason you're still here then?" Jeongin questions next, and you swallow, hesitant to answer. Admittedly, you only stuck around in case someone did decide to go confess to him– you intended to eavesdrop, to try to listen in and find out what's really going on behind closed curtains.

It would've been massively immoral, but you would've confessed and asked for forgiveness later– privately, that is. You have no intention of seeking the Father's help in such matters, given how little trust you have towards him.

But still, despite the fact that you were willing to sneak around and listen to private conversations, you aren't entirely willing to lie in the house of God– so after some internal grappling with yourself on what you should and shouldn't do in this position, on what is right and wrong, you end up admitting the truth.

"I don't trust you," you tell Jeongin plainly, and you can swear you see him trying to suppress a smirk.

"I'm aware," he says, so matter of fact that it almost sends you reeling. And it's not that you were so disillusioned into thinking you weren't being obvious; you know very well that you weren't being the most covert in your suspicion of him– it's how unbothered and amused by it he seems to be that really gets you.

Shouldn't he be offended? Question your reasoning? Try immediately to dispel your doubts and clear up any misconceptions you may have? Instead, he seems more than ready to just accept it for what it is– even seems entertained by it.

"Does it not bother you that I don't trust you?" you ask, and he almost laughs as he shakes his head. "No. There's no reason for it to," he answers simply; and before you can ask why, or what he means, he's already answering– you suspect he could already tell you were going to press him on the matter.

"God teaches us to love one another. So even if you do not love me, or trust me, I love you, just as God instructs me to," Jeongin smiles as he speaks, and again, your brows furrow. It's a perfect answer, really– but it feels.. inorganic, almost rehearsed.

And the glimmer in his eye throws you off; it doesn't feel like the pure, honest delight you'd see on a priest putting God's word into practice. It feels mischievous, deceitful– like he doesn't believe an ounce of what he's saying, but he wants you to believe that he does.

"I know what you're thinking," he says, and you swallow, stiffening where you stand as he continues, "And if you really want to know what goes on during confession, want to see for yourself what it is I do to help the people who look to me, I can show you."

If you're being entirely honest, the offer is tempting; and strangely, it also makes you feel.. bad, almost– makes you second guess yourself. Because if he's freely offering like this, surely it can't be whatever you've been making it out to be in your head.

There's no way he'd out himself, and whatever it is he does, just to gain the trust of one person out of hundreds who doesn't believe his pure intentions. And maybe the other townsfolk really do trust him for good reason; maybe you've just been examining the situation and looking at Jeongin and the church in the wrong light.

Maybe you've been blowing everything out of proportion with obscene assumptions, and maybe he really is just a good priest. Maybe he makes you feel so seen, heard, and whole, that all your worldly problems melt away, feel trivial and light in comparison to God's plan for you.

Because after all, you are the outlier here. You're the only one in the whole town that doesn't trust him; and surely that means you're the one in the wrong. Jeongin does things differently than you're used to, but that doesn't mean he's inherently bad. And maybe you should confess– ask God to forgive you for not being receptive to the word of one of His servants.

Jeongin smiles when you concede and start to slowly step your way to the confessional. You pull back the curtain, step inside and prepare to sit in the small, wooden booth seat, but you quickly realize he's followed you inside. You gasp as you turn around, back pressing against the intricately carved hardwood window of the booth as he closes you in.

"Sh-Shouldn't you be on the other side?" you ask, much too meek for your liking. It's a cramped fit given that the booth is only meant to fit a single person on either side at a time; it makes you unconsciously hold your breath as you're effectively caged inside the booth with him– nowhere to go, and nothing you can do but stare at him, bewildered.

"No," he answers as quick and simple as before, his smile once again growing ever so slightly. And maybe you could push him, try to dart past him if you manage to successfully make him topple back, but you feel frozen– because even in the dark, barely lit confessional you're in, you're certain that you see his dull canines become long, pearly white fangs.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt for a second," he assures you as he brings his hands to your arms, gripping them just below your shoulder as he leans towards you. You shudder, his breath fanning your ear as he inches towards your neck, "but after that– it's bliss."

You feel the sharp points of his teeth poke at your skin, and it makes you gasp as your head tilts to the side, making room for him to sink his fangs into your flesh. Instinctively, your hands search for something to grab; you end up reaching for his shoulders, twisting your hands in his leather jacket to ground yourself as his sharp teeth pierce into your neck.

Your legs wobble, and he forces one of his own between your thighs, uses it to keep you upright as he drinks from you. And there is pain, but it really is only for a second, just like he said it’d be– within seconds it melts away, and oh, you instantly understand.

It’s much, much more than bliss– it’s ecstasy, it’s rhapsody, it’s the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt. Spreading from your neck to every last nerve ending in your body, every atom of your body becomes alight with euphoria as his bite sends tingles throughout you, raising goosebumps along your skin.

You cry out, an embarrassingly loud sound that you barely recognize as your own voice as one of your hands finds its way to his head. Your fingers thread into his hair, hold him to your neck as if you don't want him to ever separate from you– and to be fair, maybe you don't.

It feels so good, so exhilarating, intoxicating, that you almost don't want the sensation to ever end. Jeongin meanwhile lets out delighted hums, eventually slowly retracting his fangs to latch his lips around the sensitive, bruising skin, his tongue lapping away at the blood that pours from the two little marks left behind.

The beating of your heart quickens, breaths quickly growing labored as the inexplicable want continues to seep into your veins. Your thighs tremble as tension builds deep in your gut, and they try to press together to seek relief, but Jeongin's leg stays firmly nestled between yours, preventing it.

And were you not so utterly blissed out, maybe the incessant, desperate throbbing of your pussy would make you feel ashamed– but all you can think about is the deep seated desire overtaking every receptor, every tiny cell, every molecule within you, as if the very chemistry that makes up your being has been altered for Jeongin alone.

Unable to resist, you rut against his thigh, entirely shameless and feverish– because it's all you have access to, all you can do to relieve the growing ache between your legs. It’s sinful, your growing lust is– and the last place you should ever be doing this is inside of a church; but you’re too far gone to care, too gripped by the need for stimulation.

Jeongin lets go of your arms, reaches between your bodies to hike up your church gown, giving you easier access to his lean, muscular thigh. He’s gracious, tugs your soaked panties to the side so your clit can catch on the denim of his jeans– and the delicious friction makes you moan for him, loud and sweet. 

He pulls away from your neck to watch your desperate humping, eyes gleaming with mischievous satisfaction as he watches you pleasure yourself on his thigh. His eyes are perfectly adapted to seeing in the low light, and so he can easily see every little detail of you– from the mess your pussy leaves behind on his jeans, to the sweat beginning to drip down your temple, to the trembling of your bottom lip before you tuck it between your teeth. 

And when he smiles at you now, it’s like the fox that got the rabbit; even in the extremely dim candle light you can see the way your blood coats his lips, messily dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His dark eyes are gleaming– because he has you ensnared, and you both know there’s no going back. 

You untangle your fingers from his hair, and you watch as he reaches for your falling hand, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He holds your gaze as he kisses over the pulsing vein, and it makes your breath hitch, the blood on his mouth smearing over the surface of your skin, staining it crimson. 

“Should I bite you here too?” he asks, placing another kiss over your vein before he shoots you a grin full of fang, “you’re so delicious– I want to taste you even more.” You gasp and squirm as Jeongin presses the tips of his bared fangs against your skin– not quite biting just yet, but it’s enough to spread another wave of tingles over your body. 

“Yes, bite me, please!” you cry, voice almost frantic in its urgency– and you can see the corners of Jeongin’s lips twisting into a devious smile before he’s obliging, burying his fangs deep into your wrist within an instant. You wince, your fingers clenching as he squeezes your wrist in his hand, keeping it tightly pressed to his mouth. 

And just as before, within seconds the sharp sting dulls and ebbs into incomparable pleasure, goosebumps spreading over every inch of your heated skin. Faintly, you can see your blood dribble past his lips, slowly flowing down the length of your forearm before it drips to the floor of the booth. 

You can just barely see his tongue licking over his bite, doing his best to collect all the blood that spills from you, and it's mesmerizing– especially when he brings his fingers to your arm to swipe up what his tongue misses. Your stomach flutters as you watch him separate from your wrist and bring his bloodied fingers to his mouth; they're so long, so pretty and enticing– you want them.

Jeongin can see it in your eyes– how brazenly you stare at his fingers, how your eyes follow every move he makes with them. You're still panting, sweating, chest heaving from the exertion, but the rutting of your hips has faltered; and he grins as he gazes at you. You're once again left with the feeling that he sees through you– that all it takes is a glance for him to know everything you're thinking.

"You want them? Want me to stuff your cunt full with my fingers? Make you cum all over them?" he asks, entirely rhetorical; he already knows the answer. And he likes the way you writhe over the question, how you gasp over the sinful words he so freely spills in such a sacred place, your ears positively burning.

Even if your face didn't obviously show your desires, you don't think you'd be able to deny them; you've never wanted anything as badly as you want this, want him. It should make your gut twist with shame, because deep down you know this is wrong, know that you shouldn't want him to touch you as badly as you do– but the craving for Jeongin to bring you pleasure is almost primal, so deep and innate that your rational mind can't even hope to fight against it.

Slowly, almost playfully, he trails his fingertips over your thigh, and the anticipation is enough to make you unconsciously hold your breath. "You're so fucking messy," Jeongin says as he brushes his fingers over your soaking, sensitive clit, "so wet– you're a dirty girl, huh?"

You want to whine, want to shake your head and vehemently deny that you're dirty, attest to being a good, honest, and God fearing– but you're so overcome with your desire for him to touch you, that you don't. Instead you agree, concede that you are dirty, and messy, and that you want him more explicitly than you feel your own words could ever attest.

How easily you agree to being dirty seems to please him– and with a light chuckle, he slips his hand further down while carefully removing his leg from between your thighs. You wobble a bit when the support of his leg is gone, but he's quick to wrap an arm around you to hold you, effortlessly keeping you upright with the strength innate to who, or rather what, he is.

The cool, silver band that he wears on his pinky makes you jolt when it touches your feverishly hot thigh, and he chuckles again as he spreads your folds with his fingers. You're dripping for him, so slick with arousal that it hardly takes any effort at all for Jeongin's fingers to become coated with your juices.

You rock your hips against his hand, wordlessly begging him to give you what it is you crave most. "Oh look at you, so impatient, so desperate," he laughs as he presses the pads of his fingers to your hole, delighting in the way you look at him with glassy eyes and pinched brows.

It's obscene how badly you want him; you've never felt this needy, never been rendered so desperate for stimulation– and you're in a confessional of all places. This is the very last place on earth you should feel this way, or be doing something like this, and yet the shame you should feel is far from your mind– because all you can think about is your need for his beautiful fingers to fill you up and dull the throbbing ache between your legs.

Jeongin coos when you start to beg for his fingers, a rambling string of "please," and "want it, want you," and "need it so bad." You can tell how much satisfaction it gives him, and if your mind weren't so hazy from desire you'd certainly feel embarrassment build and twist from deep in your gut– but any such feelings are silenced by your body's need for his touch, by your craving for the sensations that only he can grant you.

It takes your breath away when he easily sinks two fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out slowly until he curls and bends them to find the spot that makes you see stars. "That's it, there you go," he grins when he finds it. He watches your eyes roll back, your hands clutching at his jacket as he continues to press the tips of his fingers into your most sensitive spot.

He returns to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin and nipping it with sharp teeth before he kisses and licks over the bruises he leaves behind. He applies pressure to your swollen clit with his thumb while relentlessly targeting your spot, an easy task for him thanks to the length of his fingers, and his hold on you tightens when the shaking in your legs grows more intense.

You're so, so close, and Jeongin can tell too– not just from how your pussy pulses and squeezes around his fingers, but because he can hear the loud, erratic thumping of your heart, as well as the rush of blood pulsing in your veins. "C'mon, let go– cum, you can do it, cum for me," he urges, speaking softly against the shell of your ear while swirling his thumb over your clit.

"There you go, good girl, just like that," he praises as you string out a loud succession of whimpers, your thighs closing tight around his hand as your high finally takes you. Your world feels like it’s spinning, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you ride out your high, your release gushing messily around his fingers.

His hand stays in place until your thighs untense, and he’s careful as he slips his fingers out of you, though you can’t help but shiver and whine from the sensitivity regardless. You're unsteady on your feet following your orgasm, but Jeongin makes sure you don't fall over; he keeps his grip on your firm, carefully helps you turn away from where you were pressed against the carved window to sit in the booth's only seat.

He wipes the sweat from your forehead after you sit, leans down to fix and smooth over the skirt of your church gown as you try your best to collect your breath and calm your racing heart. He's reverted back to his kindly priest persona it seems– you can tell by the warm smile he offers when you look at him, his sharp fangs fully retracted.

Still, bits of your blood remain smeared over his lips– clear evidence that he isn't the saintly man he portrays himself to be. You watch breathlessly as Jeongin licks the last of it from his lips before he pulls back the curtain of the confessional booth.

He offers you his hand after it seems like you've recovered enough to stand again; your own hand trembles as you accept it, and with his assistance, you rise carefully from your seat.

You're a bit dizzy when you stand, equal parts consequence of blood loss and the euphoria still lingering and tingling in your veins, but you're otherwise steady; and he smiles as he squeezes your hand in his, the other coming to rest on the small of your back as you take your first step out of the booth.