#dom!changbin

You’re in the hallway when the bickering starts, low, competitive growls that have been building since the pack finished dinner. Through the half-open door, you can see Seungmin sitting on the edge of the bed, his puppy ears perked with a sharp, mischievous tilt. He’s got the cuff of your sweater between his teeth, the one you'd left draped over the chair, gnawing on the fabric with a slow, deliberate focus while he watches Changbin pace the room like a caged animal, his bunny ears pinned back. He’s been trying to get close to you for an hour, but Seungmin has been a persistent, bratty wall between you.

“You know,” Seungmin mumbles around the fabric of your sleeve, his voice dripping with calculated spite. “She told me while you were in the kitchen that she missed me more. I think she likes me more, Hyung."

Changbin stops dead. He turns, his dark eyes fixed on Seungmin with a predatory intensity that has the younger hybrid’s grin widening even as he lets out a small, instinctive whine.

“What did you say, puppy?” Changbin’s voice is a low, dangerous rumble.

“I’m saying,” Seungmin lets go of your sleeve, his grin defiant and sharp, “that you’re just a loud rabbit. She’d probably ignore you entirely if she had the choice.”

In a blur of gray and white, Changbin is across the room. He manhandles him; he hauls the puppy hybrid up by his collar and shoves him back against the headboard.

Suddenly, a violent, heavy thud echoes through the hallway, the sound of the headboard slamming against the wall. You hurry in, worried about the sudden noise, only to freeze at the sight of the chaos. Seungmin folds immediately, his grumpy energy replaced by a breathless, excited whine. He’s pinned, his tail wagging a mile a minute despite the bruising grip Changbin has on him.

“You think she’d ignore me?” Changbin sneers, his breath hot against Seungmin’s ear as his gaze snaps to yours, his possessiveness flaring at your sudden entry. “Let’s test that. Puppy thinks he’s so important? He can stay right there and watch. Too weak to do it right anyway.”

Changbin hauls you into his lap, his thick arms wrapping around you in a squeeze that forces the air from your lungs, flipping you over until you’re draped across his lap, facing the wide-eyed, grinning Seungmin.

He bunches your shirt up, exposing your chest to the puppy's gaze. His fingers are rough as he finds your nipples, pinching and rolling the sensitive tips between his thick fingers. He doesn't go easy; he tugs and pulls at the peaks, and makes your back arch and your breath hitch in sharp, broken cries.

“Watch Seungmin,” Changbin growls, his thumb dragging hard over one aching nipple, squeezing it until you gasp. “See how she moans when I handle her like this? You’re too weak to make her sound like this.”

He forces you even closer to Seungmin's face. Seungmin is pinned flat against the headboard, Changbin hovers over him, keeping the puppy hybrid trapped while he pulls you into the small space between them. He forces you onto your knees, your back pressed firmly against his broad, heated chest as he leans you forward, making your breasts hang directly over Seungmin's face. Changbin’s thick arms reach around you, his hands immediately returning to your nipples to toy with them.

“Watch, Seungmin,” Changbin growls, his hand reaching down to guide his hardening length to your entrance. “Watch how she forgets you’re even in the room.”

When Changbin pushes inside, it’s with a guttural, happy cry of triumph. He’s relentless, each movement driven by months of pent-up need as his broad chest presses firmly against your back, his pace frantic and overwhelming in the quiet room, the intensity of it making Seungmin’s pupils blow wide.

Seungmin is near tears, but the grin never leaves his face. He’s forced to watch every inch of the penetration from inches away, his own hand stroking himself as he’s relegated to a spectator. He reaches out, his hands trembling as he’s only allowed to touch what Changbin permits. He leans forward, his tongue lapping at the skin of your shoulder, his teeth grazing your neck in a desperate attempt to get you to look at him while Changbin claims you.

“Look at me, Jagi,” Seungmin sobs out, his puppy ears drooping pathetically. “Look at me... please... I’m the one you missed, right? Tell him...”

“Don’t you dare,” Changbin barks, his hands anchoring your hips with a bruising force, making sure you feel every inch of him. “She’s not looking at a weak little puppy. She’s feeling a real man. Tell him, Princess. Tell him you can’t even hear him over the sound of me fucking you.”

You’re caught in the middle of a sensory overload. Changbin is all heat and friction behind you, while Seungmin is a desperate, whining mess at your front, licking the sweat off your skin and whining for a scrap of the attention you’re giving the bunny hybrid. Every time Seungmin tries to steal a kiss, Changbin pulls you back, forcing you to arch your spine and cry out.

As Changbin nears his peak, his movements become a chaotic blur of strength. He’s squeezing you so hard you can barely breathe, his scent marking every inch of the room. “I missed you... I missed you so much,” he groans, his forehead dropping to your neck as he spills deep inside you with a violent, shuddering release.

Seungmin is working himself frantically beneath you, his body trembling, but he can’t quite cross the edge. His eyes are glazed and tearful, fixed on your face with a heart-wrenching desperation as he continues to stroke himself, his whines turning into broken, stuttering pleas.

“Noona... Hyung... please,” he mumbles, his voice thick with a sudden, desperate need for validation. "Look at me. Pay attention to me now. I was a good boy, right? I watched. I did everything you wanted. Please..."

Changbin’s heart is still racing, but the "mean" edge in his eyes softens instantly. He lets out a long, shuddering sigh, shifting his weight to pull both you and the trembling puppy into a single, bone-crushing squeeze. "Yeah, puppy," he grunts, his voice low but warm now as he nuzzles the back of your head. "You were a good boy. Even if you are a brat."

You reach out, cupping Seungmin’s face and pulling him up just enough to look into his glazed, watery eyes. You press a slow, sweet kiss to his lips, then another to his forehead, while your hand finally moves down to cover his, adding your own rhythm to his. The sudden flood of affection the kisses, the soft words, and the shared touch, is finally too much for him.

Seungmin lets out a sharp, high-pitched cry as he finally spills, his body going completely limp beneath you, his body sinking deep into the mattress under your weight. He buries his face in your chest, still whining softly, his body trembling from the force of the release.

Changbin joins in, his large hands moving to pet Seungmin’s ears as he leans over you to plant a messy, affectionate kiss on the puppy's nose.

leeknow

he likes to go for the more mentally draining and - sorry for the wording but - unhinged punishments.

minho’s favorite is probably to have you kneeling for him with a clothespin on your tongue, reciting his rules back to him as slowly and clearly as you can. you sound ridiculous with the pin hindering your ability to articulate and you can’t help but drool pathetically the more you try to enunciate for him.

minho looks so mean when he looks down on you like that and you have to avert your gaze because of the shame and arousal you feel from just being beneath him. it takes a while, but sooner or later you feel yourself going all mindless and floaty, eyes closed as you listen to minho’s steps circling you, still trying to repeat his rules back to him, to be good. minho kneels down to your height when he considers your job well done, one hand resting on your thigh, the other removing the clothespin from your numbing tongue with diligent fingers. you wince when he runs his fingers over the sore muscle and minho’s eyes sparkle.

“aww, are you sensitive? i’ll give you some medicine for that,” he promises with a devious lilt in his words.

he gets up unceremoniously and unbuckles his pants and you obediently keep your mouth open for him, numb but oh so inviting, ready to take whatever reward - or additional punishment - minho is willing to give you.

changbin

i feel like it actually takes a while to get changbin to the point that he truly feels like he needs to discipline you. it takes a day or maybe even two of consistent bratting and selfishness until you finally see that gleam in his eye when he tilts his head at you disapprovingly and you know that you finally got to him.

changbin asks you if you’ve forgotten the most basic training, musing that he needs to start it all over and go back to the very first thing he taught you: sucking dick. changbin is way harsher in his throat training now than he was when you started sleeping together. now that he knows just what you can take he has no reservations pinching your nose closed between his fingers and jerking his hips against your face until you gag for him. changbin groans that he’s close and he pulls out when you get ready to swallow, jerking off into his palm with quick, firm strokes until his release streaks his cupped palm white. your throat is sore but you can’t help letting out a sassy remark to hide the disappointment of not getting to swallow his cum this time. “what? was that my punishment?” you giggle.

“no,” changbin smiles. “this is.”

you don’t even get a second process this before he’s slapping you across the face with his cum, the impact stinging more than it actually hurts you. as your now sticky cheek flushes in the aftermath, it doesn’t take long for the rest of your body to heat up from the humiliation blooming just beneath your skin.

“what?” changbin challenges, mimicking your bratty attitude from before. “aren’t you gonna say thank you?”

hyunjin

as your dom, hyunjin can be strict and he can be demanding - but he would never outright punish you.

why would he? both of you know that he’s above getting his hands dirty to discipline you, especially when he can just make you do it yourself.

whenever you misbehave you can already tell that hyunjin is displeased with your antics, but it doesn’t quite show until the next time you get intimate, when you’re already naked and ready for him, lips swollen from his hungry kisses and cunt dripping with the desperate need for hyunjin’s undevided attention. “you know what you did, baby, don’t you?” hyunjin mumbles and that’s your sign. he wants you telling him exactly what you did wrong, that you understand why it was wrong. then he wants you begging for forgiveness while humping his shoe. if you cum then that’s your problem, both of you know you’re not giving your swollen clit a break until hyunjin accepts your apology. you know that moving away only makes hyunjin press the sole of his boot against your harder, so you accept your fate and obediently move your drippy cunt over the shiny leather just for him.

you can try not to make too much of a mess of hyunjin’s expensive shoes all you want while you’re at it, but you know hyunjin will make you clean up after yourself regardless.

han

one word: overstimulation.

you’re still giggling when jisung cuffs your wrists to the headboard, the dissatisfied crease between his eyebrows not deterring you at all from you delighting in the fact that everything is going your way. it almost feels like a reward when jisung situates himself between your legs, resting your thighs on his shoulders.

“i don’t want to hear another sound out of you,” he huffs and it’s only then when dread begins to set in. because even with the countless times you’ve had the luxury of being at the receiving end of your boyfriend’s talented tongue you cannot remember a single instance where he hasn’t reduced you to a moaning mess within mere minutes. there’s no time to brace yourself when jisung’s soft tongue meets your cunt, gently parting your folds before swirling an indulgent circle around your clit, already sensitive and swollen in your excitement. you sink your teeth into your bottom lip and roll your hips up against jisung’s face, a silent plea for him to continue despite your self-control already slipping with just one touch. it doesn’t take him long to get you on the brink of your first orgasm, sucking and licking at you just the way you need him to with the most obscene sounds that only add to your arousal somehow.

you try to hold it together, try to keep yourself from humping against his face in desperate anticipation, try to not moan out it pleasure and agony. it’s a lost battle when jisung renews his efforts between your thighs, two fingers slipping into your sopping cunt and curling upwards, tongue swirling over your clit at a rapid pace that has sparks of please shooting sll throughout your body. “jisung,” you gasp, any worries about the consequences of the smallest sound thrown out the window. “please.”

his indulgence is almost threatening. jisung - usually so teasing, so slow - just keeps up his pace for you, your pussy squelching around his digits as he keeps curling them into you, tongue flattening against your pulsing clit until your orgams crashes over you, tingly and strong.

“two more,” jisung grins while you’re still clenching around his fingers, trying to come down from your high. you can’t help but whimper in response.

“make it three.”

felix

he doesn’t like punishing you, he tells you adamantly, his deep voice sweet like syrup. doesn’t like punishing you at all but now he’ll have to, won’t he? he’s spoilt you too much, given you too many liberties, too much time to form your own selfish thoughts in your silly little head. thoughts that - much to his chagrin - aren’t centered around how much you need him. felix needs to remind you of your place, he fears. that’s why he has to punish you, despite how much he swears up and down he hates seeing you like this.

and so felix makes you edge the whole day, has you send him pics and videos of your arousal coating your fingers and staining your underwear, but never giving you permission to bring yourself over the edge and fully soil your underwear for him. he has you touch yourself in public restrooms and under your desk at work, anywhere you can get away with staying on the edge without getting caught. and then, finally, when you come home to him felix edges you for him some more. first with tender touches of the tips of his fingers, then the teasing flick of his tounge, and finally with just the tip of his cock, shallowly fucking himself in and out if your tight entrance while he makes you play with your aching clit some more, catching your wrist in one hand whenever you get too frantic.

it’s only when he sees tears brimming at your lash line and you insist you’ll never take an orgasm granted again through gritted teeth, that felix deems it a lesson well learned and finally grants you release. and the orgasm that crashes over you like a tidal wave after anticipating it for an entire day makes the torture worth it.

seungmin

another dom that likes to consider himself a fan of the classics.

you’ve forgotten a specific rule of his? he’ll have you writing it out over and over again for up to an hour to see if maybe some repetition will ger it into your head.

you’re not just writing lines of course. you’re also sitting pretty in his favorite skirt, perched in seungmin’s lap with your panties pushed to the side and his thick cock buried between your slick walls.

seungmin doesn’t let you move, even the slightest shift earns you a warning slap to your cheek. he might play with your clit a bit, just to throw you off, harshly laughing at you when your pen slips on the paper or his sudden touch causes you to misspell a word. it’s so clear that seungmin is getting off on this just as much as you are, his cock hard and throbbing inside of you whenever you ask him to let you stop writing, you swear you’ve learned your lesson and you’ll be good now. but he still doesn’t budge until at least an hour has past.

you’ll just have to keep cockwarming seungmin until he decided he can’t take it anymore and fucks you over the table right then and there. seungmin doesn’t care if the ink hasn’t dried yet when he holds your head down against the table, the other hand finding leverage at your waist as he pistons his hips against your ass at a relentless pace, still repeating his rules to you when his cock bullies your cunt until you think you can feel him knocking at your cervix with all that force.

i.n

jeongin knows a little bit of denial, a tap on your ass or a stern talking to would never be enough to get a message across to a brat like you. no, jeongin has learned over the months and years that the only way to teach you a lesson is humiliation.

he keeps you guessing - and you wouldn’t have it any other way - you know you’re getting punished today, but you don’t know with what.

relization sets in soon enough when during a night of partying and drink after drink after drink you tell jeongin you’re going to the bathroom and he tells you “no”. it sets in further he tells you “no” again, until he finally takes you home only to push you up against the wall in your hallway, rough fingers finding their way into your jeans while his other hands presses against your bladder until you’re forced to release everything all over the tiled entryway in a mortifying reminder that jeongin still controls you.

realization sets in when drawn out foreplay turns into your hands cuffed to the headboard, desperate and needy, with the only release jeongin grants you is a pillow that he lets you hump your sopping cunt agaunst while he films your embarrassment for future use.

It doesn’t help that the parlor is hidden in a small alleyway. As if trying to navigate through a labyrinth, you and Changbin had to take many turns through back streets that looked all the same before arriving at the run-down building. The only closure you have is that the artist is someone Changbin has known for the longest time, and since they were the one who did all of his previous tattoos, you can take your boyfriend’s words for granted. 

“Are you alright?” Changbin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You blink. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You’re crushing my hand.”

Upon realizing that you are indeed, seemingly about to crush his hand, you instantly loosen your hold but keep your fingers intertwined. In an attempt to ease your nerves, Changbin continues, “We can leave if you want–”

“No!” you cut him off with a raised voice that pierces through the Whitesnake song playing from the speakers in a moderate volume, then add in a softer manner, “This is just new to me. Besides, I asked if I could come along. See it as a new experience for me.” Truth be told, you didn’t ask; you annoyed him until he reluctantly agreed to let you join him to his appointment.

Then again, you weren’t supposed to catch wind of it in the first place. Blame Jisung for being a loudmouth who can’t keep his mouth shut. What goes around comes around, and he sure is repenting by completing his mandatory community service. 

Changbin’s about to reply when a sharp voice cuts in. “Yah! Seo Changbin!” 

A young woman emerges from the employees only room. Her jet-black hair is tied into a high ponytail, and a lopsided grin is etched on her lips. She’s dressed in black, the sleeveless tee showcasing the abundance of tattoos on her left arm. Long, black branches are inked all over her shoulder and stop midway below her elbow. There are only a few pink petals sparsely decorating the branches, the rest cascading down her arm until the last specs of ink reach her wrist. Besides the delicate petals, other patterns are adorning her skin, strokes much bolder than the tree. You faintly make out the outlines of a billiard table and poker cards, the art style reminiscent of pop art comics. Despite the opposite art styles of the intricate tree and casino concept, the combination looks oddly harmonious.

“I’m older than you.” Changbin scowls, but the playfulness in his eyes still shines through.

“Since when do you care about formalities?” She snorts and they complete a complicated handshake before her gaze flits to you. “You brought company this time? That’s new.” Although there’s no judgment in her tone, you still feel like you’re being interrogated. The woman eyes you curiously, and after a while, she outstretches her hand. “I’m Chaeryeong. Interested in getting inked too?”

You notice her firm grip when you accept the handshake. You’re about to reply when Changbin beats you to it first. “She’s only company,” he says sharply, then detangles your fingers to wrap an arm around your hip, tugging you closer to him. Startled by his actions, you blink at him alertly, but he remains indifferent. Seems like Chaeryeong is also stunned, but then a beat passes, and the corners of her lips tug into a small but knowing smile.

“Glad to know that you listened to my advice and came here with emotional support in tow. You really need it,” she hums before turning to you. “You know, his pain tolerance is nonexistent. I almost fucked up all of his tats because he wouldn’t sit still and went on a crying rampage. For God knows how many hours straight, he was like ‘Wah, Chaeryeong, I’m gonna die!’” Her rendition of Changbin’s tantrum is comically exaggerated, yet it earns her a giggle from you and a punch in the shoulder from Changbin.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” he grumbles, ignoring Chaeryeong’s whines that he shouldn’t have hit her dominant arm. (“You do know that I’m going to be drawing on your arm with this hand, no?!”)

Fortunately for him, Chaeryeong doesn’t prolong it further and leads the two of you to a different, more sterile-looking room. As Changbin slips out of his leather jacket and makes himself comfortable on the tattoo chair, Chaeryeong points you to the stool beside him. 

“So, Mr. No pain tolerance, how are you feeling?” you tease once Chaeryeong is out of earshot. Changbin’s ears sport red. 

“Just so you know, Chaeryeong was blowing things out of proportion,” he insists, “I’m a big boy.”

With the jacket gone, his bare arms are on display and you’d be lying if you said they weren’t a sight to see. Changbin’s gym endeavors have fruited impressive results, and the half sleeve tattoo on his right arm complements the muscle he’s built up. Out of all the intricacies that stop at this elbow, the wolf is by far the most mesmerizing one he wears, with its sharp gaze, ragged fur and bloodshot eyes. 

It wasn’t until you moved in together that you found out he had tattoos in the first place. You accidentally walked in on him in the bathroom, jaw slackening at the sight of him shirtless and his right arm on full display. Changbin mirrored your stunned expression, racking his brains for any reason to justify the tattoos, but every word that left him flew past your ears. All you could focus on was the black ink cascading down his upper arm, coming to life with every movement his muscles made. 

Hence, the start of your Changbin’s arms hyperfixation.

Chaeryeong returns, this time with vinyl gloves covering her hands. “You better not be screaming like a bitch like last time.” She sends Changbin a pointed look before she takes a seat and begins with the prep work. Changbin instinctively locks his free hand into yours. You look at him bewildered at first, but at closer inspection, you notice how he’s slightly trembling even though all Chaeryeong did so far was apply rubbing alcohol to disinfect his lower arm, then use a disposable razor to shave off any fine hairs. Trying to make him relax, you squeeze his hand in reassurance. Fortunately it works, and he reciprocates the gesture.

“Brace yourself, the next step is where he usually cries,” Chaeryeong says offhandedly once she peels the stencil off. She was nice enough to elaborate on all the crucial steps she was taking before she could use the tattoo gun. Changbin stayed silent throughout the ordeal, gnawing on his bottom lip while she was explaining how the stencil transfer made her job much easier. 

“Does it really hurt that much?” you quip. 

“Fuck, yes.”

“Depending on your pain tolerance.”

They share an unreadable look for a moment, Chaeryeong being the one to break eye contact first. “Anyway, I need complete silence while I do the linework. And yes, that includes as little squirming as possible, Seo Changbin.”

“Always dropping the honorifics,” Changbin swears under his breath, earning a slight elbow jab from the other. “Ow! Is this how you treat a customer?!”

“This is the preferential treatment only you deserve. Mwah.” Chaeryeong sends him a crooked, half-assed smile. Stamping the conversation as done, she turns around to prepare the tattoo machine. 

When Chaeryeong said Changbin had no pain tolerance at all, she wasn’t lying. 

You don’t know much about tattoos and your very limited knowledge about the process of getting a tattoo is courtesy of Google. According to the Reddit forums you browsed through in the middle of the night, it should only hurt for the first minute or so before you get used to the sting. It varies from body part to body part, but generally, the forearm shouldn’t hurt so much.

Changbin’s still wheezing in pain ten minutes later. 

Luckily he isn’t squirming erratically, but the pained cries that leave him aren’t any more pleasant. He winces as Chaeryeong works silently, lips pressed together in a firm line. Meanwhile, you feel like he’s about to break your bones with the iron grip his hand has engulfed yours in. But you manage to suppress a whimper. 

The only reason Chaeryeong keeps up with him is because they’re childhood best friends, and if she could endure his bullshit from twenty years ago, she can endure it now. Besides, she lacklusterly admitted that she likes tattooing buff people. It’s easier to work with, or so she claims. 

Most of the work is done once she finishes tracing the outline. By the time she takes a quick break to grab water for all of you, Changbin looks like he’s gone through an out-of-body experience.

“Is it over yet?” he asks dazedly. 

“Only shading left.” Changbin groans at Chaeryeong’s reply, squeezing his eyes shut and probably questioning if this was truly worth the pain. 

“You’re still alive. Don’t act as if I’m taking you to hell right now.” Chaeryeong rolls her eyes in unbothered annoyance. Changbin doesn’t lash back, only grabs the cup and downs it in one go. 

“Heads up, the worst part is over already,” you say softly in an attempt to perform damage control. While your boyfriend doesn’t reply and gives you a weak smile that reaches his eyes, Chaeryeong hums approvingly.

“You’re right. The worst is over. Usually he’s all numb from the outlining, so shading should be a breeze. Also, he’s more bearable and can actually hold a proper conversation now.”

She’s right. Changbin is certainly more receptive to talking and much saner than before. It’s almost as if his lapse never happened. Though occasionally he inhales sharply as Chaeryeong works the ink into his skin. 

“How’s uni going?” she asks to distract him further from the pain.

“The usual. Though lately I’m cooped up in the lab for this project and it’s killing me,” Changbin sighs, enjoying the way you run a thumb over his knuckles. 

“Oh, really? Tell me more about it.”

“We’re recreating drugs.” Chaeryeong does a double-take. Her eyes meet yours and you know that you’re looking just as mortified. Now, this is the first time you’re hearing that. However, Changbin doesn’t seem to notice the gravity of his words and continues casually, “We’re trying to find a way to make use of the euphoric effects drugs provide but take out the risk of addiction.”

“You’re recreating drugs,” Chaeryeong repeats blankly. She blinks a few times before she resumes her work. “Does that mean you can make ecstasy?”

“Are you hearing yourself?” Changbin scoffs, as if that was a stupid question to begin with. “Of course I can.”

“Sweet. Can you hook me up with it?”

“No.”

“Jeez, I was just joking,” she deadpans but quickly drops the subject. She catches a glimpse of you before speaking again. “How long have you two been dating?”

“Uh.” The question came unexpectedly and you’re not even sure if Chaeryeong is asking you, but given that nobody has interjected yet, you clear your throat. "It’s about to be six months.”

“And we live together,” Changbin adds a tad too proudly for your taste.

Chaeryeong does another double-take. Not only is she at a loss for words, but she’s definitely thinking how sketchy that is, going by her furrowed brows. “You haven’t even been dating for half a year and already live together?” As quickly as the outburst came, it disappeared in a matter of seconds and she continues her work, voice much calmer this time. “Looks like Changbin’s really whipped, then.”

“Yeah, I am.” Your heart skips a beat when you hear the fondness in his voice. But then you see that he’s looking straight at you with the same fondness, a fondness that only someone madly in love could wear on his face, and your heart stops dead in its tracks. 

Admittedly, you can understand why a few question marks popped up when people found out you shared an apartment. Only fools would move in together after dating for mere three months. But what can you say? Like every college student who was financially independent from their families, you saved money wherever you could. You were both in need of a roommate, you both trusted each other, and with your biggest fight being a debate about prioritizing the purchase of a rice cooker vs. an air fryer, you didn’t have any worries. 

Besides, at least you can now make out without the fear that someone could walk in.

“God, you’re so tacky. You should introduce your girlfriend to the rest of us soon—no, you should’ve introduced her to us much earlier!” Chaeryeong sulks until all of a sudden, she looks up to you with sparkles in her eyes. “Hey, we’re meeting at the Topline next week and you should definitely join us!”

Before you get to ask what on earth the Topline is, Changbin dismisses the prospect sternly. “That’s out of question.”

“Why not? I’m hurt,” Chaeryeong fires back with her eyes glued to his skin, tattoo gun buzzing in her grip.

“And let half of you impose your corruption kink on her? I think the fuck not.”

Corruption kink? Is that really what Changbin thought of you? You may not be the most experienced there is out there (God forbid the first time you gave Changbin a blowjob; it definitely was… your technique had room for improvement. Lots, even. But hey, you improved and that’s all that matters!) but it’s not like you didn’t read the nastiest guilty pleasure fanfics on the internet when you were a teenager. 

“Most of us have the decency not to try something with someone taken.” Chaeryeong’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“There you go. Most of you.”

Upon that comeback, Chaeryeong doesn’t have anything to deflect with. In the end, she settles with “As if you’re not one of them too, monogamist.” Changbin shoots her a warning glare.

The topic dies down soon after and Chaeryeong stops talking at some point, too immersed in completing the tattoo. Changbin reminisces a bit about his joint past with her, back when they were still toddlers and Chaeryeong shit her pants in the backyard, but she soon lashes back with a set of embarrassing endeavors Changbin went through in his teen years. You fight the urge to laugh then and there, and promise Changbin to take his moments of shame to the grave, yet silently thank Chaeryeong for providing these stories. 

Hours pass and eventually, Chaeryeong does the finishing touches to the new sleeve extension. Positioned right underneath the head of the wolf, it’s a pine forest that takes up the entire space of his lower arm. 

“I don’t expect any other customers today, so take your time,” Chaeryeong says after bandaging him up and leaves the room first to clean her equipment. 

Changbin rolls his shoulder back to get rid of the numbness in his right arm before he carefully slips into his jacket. You’re contemplating bringing up the topic of meeting his friends again because that thought hasn’t left your mind and Changbin’s reaction didn’t sit right with you. You’re thinking of dropping it altogether since he must have his reasons and you don’t want to foul his mood, but then—

Oh, fuck it. You don’t have anything to lose.

“So, about the Topline—” 

“No.” His answer is firm and before you can counter, he sighs deeply and meets your bummed expression. “It’s not that I don’t want you to meet the rest of my friends I grew up with, but it’s better if you don’t.”

Your brows scrunch in irritation. “Why? As long as you’re there it shouldn’t be a problem, no? Unless there’s some dubious backdoor business they’re partaking in?”

“Dubious backdoor business—God, no, it’s nothing like that,” Changbin grabs you by the shoulders and stops in his sentence after a moment of hesitation. “It's just… let’s say there are a lot of physical confrontations at that particular bar.”

“Chaeryeong made it sound like you still frequent that place quite often,” you mumble. You don’t process what you said until seconds later, and when you see the perplexity on Changbin’s features, you realize you stepped on a landmine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“It’s alright. I get it. Sometimes I ask myself why I still go there too.” He says it like someone who’s accepted the fact that their cigarette addiction is going to last for the rest of their life. “Remember when I told you I used to be a troublemaker who did some questionable things? We didn’t do illegal stuff or anything that’s super messed up, just questionable. I might’ve grown from that phase, but some of them didn’t. You’re better off not knowing some of them, really.” He means the last part, almost as if he wished he never met them himself. 

Before the mood can get any more depressing, he leans forward to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “The only person worth meeting is Chaeryeong, to be honest. She’s the one who stuck along since day one.”

“Well, she did tell interesting stories about your past. The cherry pie incident was amusing to hear,” you muse, earning a warning glare from him.

“We don’t talk about the cherry pie incident. You promised you'd take that story to the grave,” he reminds you stoically, but the facade drops in an instant when you peck his lips. Gone is the unreadable expression as you reduce him into a flustered mess. 

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” you swear, giving him a wink before leaving the room.

Chaeryeong looks up from her phone when you finally step foot into the… lobby? Main room? Room filled with band posters and blasting Green Day from the speakers? That room.

The payment goes smoothly. Changbin pulls out several banknotes from his jacket and you gawk at the amount he’s brought. No sane person would carry that amount in cash, but perhaps it’s an unspoken tattoo culture thing. The two banter a bit and Changbin eventually decides to go to the toilet, leaving you with Chaeryeong.

“It was nice meeting you,” she says, the corners of her lips quirking upwards. 

“Huh?” You have to stop being so caught off guard by the casual sentences. “I mean, likewise.”

If Chaeryeong finds your initial reactions off-putting, she doesn’t let it show. After a moment of deliberation, she pulls out a small business card and starts scribbling something on the back of it. Once she’s done, she walks around the counter until she’s standing right in front of you. You flinch when she grabs your hand without warning and drops the business card in your palm. 

“In case you ever feel like stopping by at the Topline. The directions on the internet are a little confusing.” Chaeryeong sounds like an angel, but the mischievous glint in her eyes tells otherwise. You stare at her wide-eyed, slowly peeking down to give the card a slower inspection. You recognize the main street and surprisingly enough, the bar isn’t too far away from it and not hidden in a maze like the tattoo parlor. “Our little secret, yeah?”

You return the smile. “Our little secret.”

“Quit hogging my girlfriend.”

You quickly hide the card by pulling down your sleeve. Luckily, Changbin doesn’t seem like he heard a word of your conversation. After saying your goodbyes, he additionally flicks Chaeryeong’s forehead because ‘it’s what she gets for dropping honorifics’. Chaeryeong jabs him playfully in the chest as payback. 

“You got yourself a good one, Seo Changbin,” she says after engulfing you in a hug. Changbin only rolls his eyes but the slight blush that dusts his ears doesn’t go unnoticed. “Stop by again soon!”

The weeks pass by uneventfully.

Once Changbin’s skin stopped peeling off three weeks in, he almost threw a party for being able to wear his long-sleeved compression shirts again, leaving little to the imagination. 

Then again, he resorted to fitted tank tops instead or ditched a shirt completely whenever he was at home, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Your brain ran haywire every time Changbin stretched and reached for something, zeroing in on the ink moving with his muscles. You also found yourself imagining him with tattoos covering his other arm, first wondering which designs would suit him (perhaps a little more color besides red?), but it quickly morphed into a daydream of how delectable his arms would look in sleeveless shirts, both covered in ink. Once that image solidified in the forefront of your mind every time he entered your peripheral vision, along with thoughts so degenerate you didn’t know your mind could conjure, you knew you needed an orgasm for a brain reset. 

An alternative would be to ask him to just get a second tattoo sleeve done, or even gift him a surprise appointment because he did tell you in the past that he plans on getting his left arm done eventually, but that reeks a bit too much of self-gratification. 

Unfortunately, as a byproduct of being paranoid about infecting the new tattoo, the best Changbin could offer you was a peck on the lips when all you wanted was for him to throw you on the bed. You forced yourself to touch some grass every day to keep your sanity intact and not reach into the depths of your mental spank bank, pull out the vibrator and cum then and there. As much as you were lusting after Changbin, you were not giving him the satisfaction of your sexless-induced meltdown because he wouldn’t pound you into the mattress. You briefly debated whether you should just get yourself off while he wasn’t at home, but you’re a terrible liar and he reads your face like an open book.

Suffice to say, it devastated you that the weeks passed by so uneventfully. 

The more rewarding it is once he frees you from his self-imposed sex ban and is sitting on the couch with you grinding on his lap, both of you still fully clothed. His hands latch onto your hips and set a moderate pace as your lips crash onto his. The neediness takes him by surprise, but he’s quick to match the energy and slips his tongue into your mouth, enticing a whine out of you. It’s downright pathetic how fast he’s reduced you into a whimpering mess, begging for more, and you hope he doesn’t realize you’re more sensitive than usual. 

“Someone’s impatient,” he pants into your mouth, struggling to hide the smile and the groans forming at the back of his throat. Another uncoordinated lip lock, then he pulls away to bunch your skirt up and grant himself access to your damp underwear. He wastes no time pushing your panties to the side and runs a finger over your slick folds. 

“A-aaa-ah, fuck– and who’s to blame for that?” you choke out, digging crescents into his buff upper arms. Changbin isn’t even applying a lot of pressure and you’re already at the brink of seeing stars. You’re too far gone to be surprised, too drunk on his touch to notice the growing bulge under his pants. 

“Talking back? That’s new.” Changbin raises a brow at you, followed by an appreciative hum. “I like that.”

With one arm wrapped around your waist for stabilisation, he spreads your folds apart with his other hand to ghost a finger above your clit. You lurch forward at the motion, body trembling from the slightest microactions. 

“Changbin, m-more— hnhg,” you plead, aching to thrust your hips into his touch. But he’s holding you steady by the waist, rendering every movement useless. 

It hasn’t been that long since you discovered that Changbin loves it when you ask for him more, demand more. Although you are still struggling to get past the indignity of verbalizing anything further specific than ‘more’, he doesn’t mind. 

It’s okay, he said. Baby steps, he said. 

He doesn’t keep you waiting for so long and as you wish, flicks your clit in a steady rhythm. Smugness settles on his features as he relishes the broken sounds coming out of your mouth. “That’s it. Attagirl.” 

The remark is all it takes to send you six feet under. Coincidentally, it hasn’t been that long since you discovered that you love it when he talks you through it. Ever since Changbin clocked that, alongside the way you clench around him every time he praises how good you are to him, how perfectly your tight pussy is taking him to the hilt, he’s been abusing your weakness like a cheat code.

But he isn’t unfair. He’s a giver through and through—a generous one, so. 

“Want more, huh? Fuck– I’ll give you more. Everything my baby wants." The words drip from his mouth like honey, a proud smile painted on his lips as you unravel under his touch. The pretty sounds from your lips, the way your fingers grip his arms for dear life, he drinks it all in and it still isn’t enough.

Everything you want is everything you get, so he slips a finger inside of you while his thumb flicks over your clit with more pressure than before. It’s everything you want and yet, it’s too much at once that you’re writhing under his control, incapable of forming any coherent thought. 

Meanwhile, Changbin settles on assaulting your neck in kisses and nibbles, adding a second finger while keeping the pace of his hand constant. “Fuck, baby, you’re so, so good to me.” 

The arm around your waist has loosened and by the time you realize it, you’re already riding his hand like a maniac. Your moans reverberate across the living room, so loud and unfiltered that an innocent bystander would think you were a freak virgin if the walls weren’t soundproof. 

You’re so close to chasing your high, close to tasting it, when all of a sudden the default iPhone ringtone blares from Changbin’s phone. The ear-deafening sound rips you a new one, and Changbin is just as delirious, hand coming to a freeze. 

The ringtone stops. A beat passes. And then his phone rings again. 

Irritation makes its way onto Changbin’s face, and before he can throw the phone across the room, the ringtone stops again. 

“I cannot be bothered with this shit,” he mutters before leaning in for a kiss, ignoring the obnoxious ring to the best of his ability. 

The phone rings a third time. This time, the standard ringtone is replaced by a Tiger JK song. Changbin tenses. 

“Fuck, supervisor’s calling,” he curses under bated breath and tears away for good this time, “I’m sorry, I really have to take this.”

Before you can complain, he pulls his fingers out of you, lifts you off his lap and gently sets you on the couch. In a matter of seconds, he’s scrambling for his phone on the coffee table and rushes into your bedroom to take the call, leaving you utterly confused with a throbbing core and the fading reality of an orgasm.

You blink.

What the fuck just happened?

You still haven’t recovered when he reappears in the living room, fixing his hard-on in his pants to be less noticeable. A wave of frustration and regret flushes on his face as he slips on his leather jacket.

“You’re leaving me. Just like this? That’s it?” The crack in your voice is all it takes for Changbin’s face to fall. It is cruel after all; weeks of the slightest of touches and the most innocent of kisses, waiting patiently for most of his tattoo to heal—all that for a build-up of a much-needed and very overdue orgasm that vanishes through a single phone call from his supervisor.

“Emergency at the lab.” Words cannot describe how thick his guilty conscience is weighing on him. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Tonight?”

“I’ll be coming home late.” Upon hearing those words, your expression sours. The justification that follows isn’t any better: “I bailed on my friends too many times and Chaeryeong will have my head if I don’t show up today.”

“At the Topline?” you ask.

Changbin nods. “I’ll be back before you realize it, promise.”

And just like that, he leaves you alone in your apartment.

Now, you know where Changbin’s loyalties lie. Hell, you’re not one to make him decide between you and his friends. He always prioritizes you over everyone else, as proven in the case of Felix and Yeonjun. 

However, he’s never left you with figurative blue balls before. And to expect you to suck it up after the past weeks?

The audacity. 

Out of courtesy and respecting his wishes, you refrained from contacting Chaeryeong even though the Topline has been gnawing at the back of your head ever since you met her. The business card is still hidden in the pocket of your coat, with her number and directions to the bar. 

Changbin played himself out of that courtesy with his stunt. 

The text you send to Chaeryeong is a mere one-liner. ‘Hey, it’s me! I heard you’re meeting at the Topline today, would love to join!’. Ten minutes later, your phone rings with her contact lighting up the screen.

“I was wondering if you would ever reach out,” Chaeryeong muses once you pick up. “So, what did he do this time?”

The direct question startles you. How often does Changbin get into trouble for her to break the ice with this?

You don’t bother questioning the rationale and reply, “I want to get back at him.”

“Damn, he must’ve fucked up. Hell has no fury like a woman scorned.” A laugh escapes from the other line. “Alright then. Meet me at the subway station at 9. Come as your best. See you then!”

Come as your best, said Chaeryeong. Who are you to question her?

For someone who is not well-versed in the art of a sultry smokey eye, pride fills your chest when you add the finishing touches to your makeup. It took you approximately an hour to complete this makeup look, and prior to that, a run to the next department store followed by a loss of ten bucks on your bank account for purchasing a drugstore eyeshadow palette that you will solely use for this occasion. 

The little black dress clinging to your skin is barely long enough to forego the safety shorts, but it hugs your figure in all the right places. You take a mental note to wear this dress more often, even if it requires you to go out at night more often. Then again, this is the only appropriate going-out dress you have in your wardrobe. Thank God you didn’t throw it away during your last closet cleanout. Otherwise you would’ve been stuck with the choices: 1) flowy skirts and basic tees, 2) gray joggers you’ve owned for five years counting along with the ugly pink furry sweater—it’s so ugly it’s cute—or 3) paying too much money for a cheaply produced polyester dress that you will only wear once. 

And because you are only doing this to subject Changbin to a night of pain and suffering and another round of blue balls, you slip on his favorite leather jacket before hurrying to the subway station. Some would call it pettiness; you prefer karmic retribution. 

“You aren’t here to play,” Chaeryeong whistles as she eyes you from head to toe, visibly pleased with what she’s seeing. “Tonight will be fun, especially since there will finally be another woman at the table!”

Wasting no time, you head over to the Topline. Reminiscent of Chaeryeong’s tattoo parlor, the moderately packed bar is designed in rocker fashion with dark wooden furniture, band posters and political stickers sticking haphazardly on the wall. It reeks of smoke and musk and if it weren’t for Chaeryeong by your side, you would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb. 

As Chaeryeong guides you to the round booth tucked in the far left corner of the room, the guy already sitting there looks up from his phone and spots you immediately. A wolfish grin flashes on his lips as his eyes linger a beat on your jacket, immediately clocking the context. 

“I’m Wooyoung,” he grins at you after hugging Chaeryeong. “Binnie’s been hiding your identity for so long. Now I can place a face and a name to the lucky lady.” 

The silver ring dangling on his bottom lip glistens in the lighting, and you see the faint outlines of a tattoo peaking out of his high collar. Perhaps Changbin had a point with his reluctance to introduce you to this set of friends. It’s not like he’s keeping you a secret—you crashed plenty of his and Felix’s Genshin sessions, and proofread Yeonjun’s assignments too many times for Changbin’s comfort. But their personalities and first impressions weren't as brash as Wooyoung’s and certainly didn’t make you feel like prey served on a silver platter. 

Blame it on the tattoos and lip ring. Although by that logic, Changbin should also count as someone you should be wary of. 

“You came in time.” Wooyoung tears you out of your inner monologue. “Jinnie’s ordering the first round for us and– ah, speak of the devil.”

Your jaw nearly drops when your line of sight focuses in on the newcomer, the strands of jet black hair and abundance of jewelry on his neck all too familiar.

“Hyunjin?” you gawk.

Hyunjin mirrors your expression, blindly setting the tray of Baby Guinnesses on the table. “Wait, you’re Changbin’s girlfriend?"

“You two know each other?” Chaeryeong’s eyes flit between the two of you, grabbing one shot glass as she slides into the booth. “Same major or something?”

“We work at the museum together,” you answer. 

“Similar majors,” Hyunjin adds, “She does anthropology, I do fine arts.”

“It isn’t similar–”

“It’s similar enough for these dumbasses.”

“What a small world we live in,” Wooyoung interrupts your banter and slips a shot glass into each of your palms. “We can reminisce later. But first, bottoms up!”

To your surprise, you down the shot with ease, the taste of sweet coffee liquor lingering on your tongue. Hyunjin was smart enough to order two glasses for everyone and before you know it, you’re holding the second shot to your lips and finishing it in one go. 

From then on, everything’s a blur. 

Time passes in the blink of an eye. One moment, Hyunjin is bombarding you with questions on how you met Changbin and how the fuck he never made the connection since he sees you twice a week and has to mute Changbin’s number whenever he overthinks what to cook for you. In the next, an abundance of shot glasses and soju bottles appear on the table out of thin air. At a certain point, Chaeryeong leaves your group and directs her attention to the hot bartender mixing up tequila sunrises, while Wooyoung is trying to convince you in slurred syllables to also get tatted up or at the very least, commit to a lip ring too. This sends Hyunjin into a spiral of complaining in solidarity with Jisung’s absence, and he brings up the conspiracy theory that Jisung unjustifiably ended up doing mandatory community service because the cops mistook him for someone else who also happened to have a lip ring. Place your bets on whose fault it is that Jisung got a lip ring?

Sandwiched between the two as they bicker, you only laugh at the absurdity of it all and reach forward to pour yourself a new soju shot. Wooyoung takes this opportunity for mischief and snatches the bottle away from you, gulping the remaining liquor in as few sips as possible. It takes all clogs in your brain a hot minute to understand what he’s aiming for and a cut later, you’re balancing your half weight on him to steal the bottle back. 

“The fuck is going on here?”

Your vision is also too blurry to make out the details of his face, but the familiar voice rings in your ear, causing you to jump off Wooyoung and grin sheepishly. 

“The man of the hour is here!” Wooyoung ignores the comment happily and then adds in a sharp tone. “You’re late!”

Changbin’s eyes are set ablaze as he stares you down in silence, processing the entire predicament. You’re too far gone to notice the harshness in his gaze or the way he swallows once he realizes that you’re wearing his jacket, only giggling as an aftereffect of the alcohol flowing through your veins. 

Changbin opens his mouth and shuts it quickly, deliberating where he should start. In the end, he settles with, “Some fucking sleazeball—,” if looks could kill, Wooyoung would’ve been dead yesterday, “—ignored the lab calls so I had to step in and take care of it.”

“As you always do! I can always count on you!”

“Fuck off, Wooyoung,” Changbin sighs and then turns to you, “More importantly, what are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” you snicker, more than tipsy. 

Changbin narrows his eyes. “How much did you drink?”

“Not a lot.”

“And now the truth,” he deadpans, unimpressed by the exasperated theatrics you give him.

“I wasn’t lying!”

By then, Hyunjin made some space for Changbin to slide next to you. He tilts your chin up, closing the gap between your lips. You’re leaning in closer, giddily awaiting the kiss when he pulls back and mutters, “Yeah, your breath says something else.”

“Seo Changbin, you don’t tell a woman her breath stinks!”

“Shut up Chaeryeong.” Changbin rolls his eyes, earning him a scoff from Chaeryeong, who just returned from the bar with more concoctions she probably sweet-talked the poor bartender for free, with empty promises of a hookup after his shift. Changbin grabs your wrist and tugs you out of the booth with him. “We’re leaving.” 

“But you just arrived!” you complain.

“We’re leaving.” The finality in his tone leaves no room for bargaining. He doesn’t even give the rest of his friends an ounce of his attention or the opportunity to say goodbye, even though he swore to go crazy with them tonight.

All sequences happen in rapid succession, from leaving the stuffy bar to the cold wind on the streets, from All Time Low blasting in your ears to the faint sounds of traffic on the main road. Changbin maintains a fast tempo, his grip a vice on your wrist. Coordination was never a skill of yours even while sober; therefore, it comes to the point where he’s dragging your drunken figure through the alleyways as if you were a ragdoll. Everything happens so fast that your legs struggle to keep up with his footsteps and your head is moments away from spinning with vertigo. 

“Changbin, too fast,” you pant, not able to tell whether he caught your plea or not. Alcohol has never been your strong suit, and the consequences of not figuring out your limit when you were still in high school bite back in this moment. Something is bubbling up in the back of your throat, constricting your ability to speak. You try another attempt at catching Changbin’s attention with a measly pat on his arm, and when that doesn’t work, you force the words past your lips. “I think I need to–”

Before you can register anything else, you’re hurling over a trash can and your legs give up.

The next time you’re conscious, it’s in the safe haven of your bed, accompanied by a raging hangover.

“Easy there.” Changbin is sitting on a chair next to you, eyes lifted from his phone. 

“My head hurts,” you groan as you push yourself up on your forearms, annoyed by the sunlight glaring into your face. All you remember is the absurd amount of liquor you basically inhaled in a span of a few hours. Perhaps also bantering with Chaeryeong, Hyunjin and Wooyoung. Maybe even how you left the Topline with Changbin and maybe, just maybe, how he was holding your hair up as you were puking your guts out into a public trash can. 

Oh, how becoming one with the bed would make last night’s events disappear in an instant.

“I’d be surprised if your head didn’t hurt after you blacked out.” Changbin grabs the cup of water by the nightstand and holds it up to your lips. “Drink.”

His lips are pressed into a fine line as you obey him diligently, only pushing away his arm once the cup is empty. Silence envelopes the room as he keeps a close eye on you adjusting to the daylight. Once he deems you conscious enough, he picks up the plate of scrambled eggs, sausages and toast and places it on your lap.

“Now eat.”

Glad that he’s not spoon-feeding your breakfast to you, you ask groggily. “What time is it?” 

“Midday.”

Lunch it is, then.

It’s a rare occasion that Changbin only watches you without any comment. Usually he’s one to spill everything going on in his mind, be it about the research project that he only begrudgingly agreed to for the prospect of skipping mandatory exams, or date ideas, because unlike public perception, he is the resident romantic between the two of you. Which is why his silence concerns you even more, because the only times Changbin is very careful about choosing the right words is when it’s very serious.

“About last night.” You shut your eyes in defeat once those words leave his mouth, knowing what’s coming next. “I’m not even going to question how everyone there already knew that you were coming along. I told you not to go there. What were you thinking?”

“Does it matter?”

He sends you a look of disbelief, as if you were dropped multiple times as a baby. “Yes, it does! It’s your safety we’re talking about!”

This is ridiculous. You literally just woke up, trying to pull through the aftermath of the drinking fest and Changbin thinks this is the best time to reprimand you for your lapse of judgment?

The toast in your mouth begins to taste vile. “Are you saying I cannot take care of myself?”

The bitter undertone in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Changbin runs a hand through his messy hair. Realizing that the conversation is slowly turning south and so not what he was hoping to achieve, he tries a different angle along with a softer voice. “My friends are a lot—”

“Chaeryeong is nice.” 

“She’s the exception. Hyunjin for example—”

“He’s my colleague. We work together. Which, by the way, you probably knew of yet you didn’t bother telling us.” You arch a brow. 

Changbin’s shoulders slump in defeat. “Okay, it’s just Wooyoung. He’s the textbook definition of trouble.”

“I thought that was Jisung?”

“The point is,” he stresses and takes a deep breath before resuming with, “You got blackout drunk. God knows what would’ve happened if I weren’t there.”

“But you were there.”

The rational part of you knows better than to egg him on. This is already a sensitive issue for him, this overprotective side of him—or so he likes to call it. In your eyes, it is something more akin to guilt or obsession or a culmination of both. But neither has there been the right timing to bridge that conversation, nor is it in your best interest to start the war now. 

The damage has already been done though, judging by the way Changbin clenches his jaw. 

“I think I should go to the lab now.” He presses a chaste kiss on your forehead that comes off more as a gesture of obligation before standing up from your side. “Get enough rest. If you need more meds, I put them on the kitchen counter.”

Before you can regret your attitude, he is already out the door.

Contrary to popular belief, Changbin’s love languages are acts of service and gift giving. You know better than what most people would assume. Therefore, it doesn’t surprise you when he arrives home at dinner time with a takeaway bag from your favorite restaurant in his hand.

That being said, Changbin also has his way with words. There’s a reason why he first considered a music career before settling for the more realistic prospects of a STEM degree. (Technically speaking, he applied for the forensics program, just so that he could blow up cars in the lab and call it his job, but wasn’t accepted. Medicinal chemistry followed as a backup plan after an eye-opening conversation with one of his seniors who raved about the pay of big pharma.)   

You cut to the chase as he puts the paper bag on the kitchen counter. “Sorry about last night. In retrospect, that was really stupid of me to do so.”

“Sorry about this morning,” Changbin responds, a soft smile etched on his lips. “I didn’t mean to lecture you like that.”

He’s halfway through unpacking the contents of his takeaway order when you engulf him in a hug, face buried in the crook of his neck. Almost instinctively, he wraps his strong arms around your waist and the two of you linger in silence, the soft, brimming sound of the fridge filling the void. 

“Already forgiven But…” you trail off, choosing your next words carefully, “did something happen that made you so… overprotective?” 

The question startles him. He blinks and for a brief pause, you second-guess whether now is a good time to bring up the question burning in the back of your skull. Perhaps it’s a little too early to stir up that hornet’s nest.

“I guess,” Changbin starts and you release the tension in your shoulders that you’ve unconsciously built up, “since we sometimes have vastly different circles, I didn’t want to scare you off. I know you sometimes find my preferences quite intimidating.”

You squint. “You think you scare me off? Even though I was the one who suggested moving in together?”

At the mention of that, Changbin chortles. “You have a point. I know it’s stupid, I’m probably projecting— hmpf—” 

Sometimes, for his own good, he talks too much. Cut off by your kiss, it takes him a second before he reciprocates earnestly. Changbin’s kisses are slow and controlled, filled with love that takes up all the space in your lungs. All insecurities and previous arguments are long forgotten as you try to coax more out of him. 

As they say, forgive, never forget. And while Changbin makes you relent in many things, not even his lips can make you forget how he left you drowning in frustration.

The kisses grow in intensity, deeper and more forceful. You lightly tug on his bottom lip, drawing a breathy moan out of him. Anything for him to finally get it. Addicted to the constrained sounds he is making, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug on the tufts of hair at his nape. The unexpected force takes him by surprise and you can only imagine his dick twitching in anticipation.

Changbin recognizes your ulterior motives too late. He groans into your mouth once you force a thigh between his legs, pressing hard on his bulge. Though it cost him his entire willpower—you know, because he is a weak man when it comes to you—he breaks off the kiss and places his forehead on yours, breath shaky and hands trembling.

“Food’s getting cold,” he says weakly. It’s a final warning; if you don’t take the bait, he’s going to devour you.

“Food can wait. You still owe me from blue balling me yesterday.” 

Changbin doesn’t need to be told twice.

His hands are cupping your face and his lips never detach from yours as he blindly guides you to your bedroom. He doesn’t let go of you until the back of your knees hit the bedframe, then wastes no time stripping you out of your clothes. You’re about to complain why he’s taking his sweet time, but then he pushes you on the bed and hovers above you. 

“Yesterday really did a number on you,” he says, discarding his own clothes with a subtle smirk on his face, and your eyes can’t help but center on his tattoo-covered right arm and the flex of his bicep. It costs you everything not to tackle his arm and leave marks on it. 

“A-ah– all your fault—” is all you can manage as he leaves open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone and lets his hands freely roam your body. Not a single crevice of your body stays unexplored. His breath lies heavy on your skin, unrelenting as he sucks on your most sensitive spots. All you can do is lie there and take it, hands gripping the sheets as marks you all over. You shiver when the pads of his fingers graze over your nipples, and arch your back with a contained moan when he flicks both of them.

“It’s all my fault you’re like this. I’m sorry.” Even though his ministrations tell a different story, he really means it, given the tone in his voice. “I’ll take care of you.” 

True to his word, he knows how to take care of you.

“Shame on me for not giving my pretty girl what she deserves,” he sighs and you jolt when he snakes a hand down to your bare cunt. “Look how wet you already are, and all I did was kiss you.” 

Changbin has his way with words, and your reactions to them don’t escape his attention. Deep down, you’re certain he has a mean streak and finds pleasure in the way you writhe underneath when he showers you in care, taking the heavy work off you. Even if he’s looking at you with stars in his eyes, there’s an underlying edge to his gaze that you haven’t quite grasped yet. 

He wastes no time slipping two fingers into you, slowly pumping them in and out. Your stomach swoops, bucking your hips to chase the feeling. A cry leaves you when his thumb simultaneously flicks your clit, and you actually feel like crying when he doesn’t pick up the pace. It’s so slow, too slow, and you start to believe that this is an even worse treatment than being denied your orgasm when you’re seconds close to reaching it. 

“Changbin, I’m going crazy if you don’t– hhh–” the desperation is dripping from your voice, and yet, he stares down at you in awe, “—if you don’t put it in right now—”

“Patience, baby,” Changbin mutters, though he doesn’t make any attempt to change his actions, “I promise it’s worth the wait. I’ll treat you good.” 

He speeds up a little and that’s all it takes to have you gripping his shoulders for dear life. His fingers hit all the right spots that send you into overload and have your toes curling, but it’s the last curl in the right angle that has you sobbing uncontrollably. It’s a dream come true, how Changbin gives you everything and more, but before you can reach the height of your climax, he pulls his fingers out.

You’re about to whine in retaliation, because this is far from good treatment, until he brings his fingers up to his lips and brazenly sucks your slick off his digits, eyes never leaving yours. 

“Tastes sweet,” he grins.

Hell, this man is out to ruin you. 

You don’t have a comeback prepared for this. Too dazed to do anything except tremble beneath him, your mind is still short-circuiting from everything, but Changbin’s hard cock lies flush against your thigh, grounding you back to reality. Precum is oozing out of his tip and you’re about to reach down to give him any semblance of pleasure, but he’s quick to pin your wrist to the side.

“Let me take care of everything,” he mumbles as his left arm reaches for the nightstand to fish out a condom from the drawer. You shiver at the warmth in his voice; he really is hellbent on making it up to you. 

Changbin works in quick movements, ripping the condom packet open with his teeth and sliding it onto his leaking cock in one swift movement. Your heart is hammering against your ribcage when he lowers himself on you, and a mewl escapes you when he teases your folds with the tip, drags it up to your clit and then down to your entrance, smearing your precum around. 

Luckily for you, Changbin doesn’t linger and slowly pushes into you. Every time he puts it in, he makes sure to be careful. It’s the same story every time, because you always have to get used to the stretch of his girth. Inch by inch, he draws out every thrust with a stifled groan, because you’re always so tight every time, and he keeps checking your face for any sign of discomfort. 

“Tell me when to go on,” he grits once he’s halfway in, but you can tell it’s costing him a lot to stay level-headed. It’s hard to keep any sense of reason with the way your pussy holds him in a vice grip. You can share the sentiment with the way his cock is stretching you out in a way your hands can’t even begin to fathom. 

He fills you up so well that you’re rendered speechless, so you resort to prodding his lower back with your heel, stirring him into motion. The thrusts start out gentle, but they soon gain in intensity and you drown in the pleasure and I got you’s he’s whispering in staggered breaths. 

Soon enough, he’s diving into you with such strength that it has you seeing white. An arrangement of uncontrollable whines and heavy grunts fills your ears, and you feel your stomach coiling. The final nail in the coffin is when you meet his gaze, fully blown with adoration. 

When you fall apart underneath him, it’s with your head on could nine, a stream of love confessions, and your hands intertwined with his.

The hallway that leads to the lab Changbin works at is as sterile-looking as the dentist’s. 

You decided to pick up Changbin after another long day for him at the lab, because the past few days he always came home looking like the devil incarnate — most likely his supervisor — sucked the life energy out of him in the form of countless self-experiments because they are short on time and it is just not possible finding enough people for the needed sample size. 

It’s probably against every safety procedure and general lab etiquette that the break room, where all students enjoy their cheap coffee amidst the tedious chaos in academia, is just a door away from the lab. Practical for all parties involved? Definitely. Legal? Debatable. 

You’re about to knock when the door of the break room swings open, revealing a familiar face.

“Wooyoung?”

“Hey!” He beams back. “Surprised to see me?”

Surprised is an understatement. Having only seen him in all black and an abundance of piercings dangling from his ears, the current version of Wooyoung in a lab coat, glasses, and a missing lip ring makes him a completely different person.

You nod. “I didn’t know you also studied medicinal chemistry.”

“Almost. My major is in biochemistry.” Wooyoung flashes you a cheeky grin. “Binnie and I are working on the same research project.” 

“The one where you’re recreating drugs?”

“Ah, that’s the one!”

“How’s that going?”

“Eh,” Wooyoung shrugs, “Not bad but not good either. Anyways, what brings you here?”

“I was looking for Changbin,” you reply.  

“Oh, he was just out for an errand. He should be back in 10.” He gestures for you to step inside. “Coffee?”

Naturally, you take him up on the offer. While he boots up the coffee machine, you sit in one of the white IKEA plastic chairs. Wooyoung occupies the chair in front of you and sets two paper cups on the table, sliding the left one in your direction. The coffee tastes as good as you expected from cheap coffee in a break room that doesn’t even provide ergonomic chairs. You would ask for some sugar if it weren’t for the fact that Wooyoung already added two packs and a boatload of creamer into your cup. 

“You know, it doesn’t surprise me that Binnie fell in love with you,” he begins mindlessly in between sips, “You’re totally his type.” 

If this is how he normally starts his smalltalk, you wonder how many people grew repulsive of him the moment he opened his mouth. That doesn’t stop you from playing along though. 

“And that entails?”

“Your personality. You need a backbone to tolerate Binnie’s antics,” he remarks. That’s the most generic response one could even think of. “Also, your sense of fashion. That’s the biggest giveaway. Binnie’s really into the cute aesthetic and skirts and shit.” 

You give him a look. “Aha.” 

He has to be trolling. Yet upon further pondering, you begrudgingly admit that he may have a point. In hindsight, Changbin did stare a beat too long whenever you wore your flowy skirts in combination with one of his hoodies.

You miss the way Wooyoung observes you closely as all gears in your head are churning overtime, trying to find as many instances as possible that corroborate his statement.

“By the way,” He grabs your attention once more as he fidgets in the pockets of his lab coat. “My roommate’s birthday is coming up soon and he’s the biggest sweet tooth there is, so I decided to make him some self-made candy. I need opinions.”

The Gudetama tin in his hand stares back at you. The last thing you expected Wooyoung to carry was a tin of an egg yolk with a face. If people thought Changbin was a walking contradiction, they clearly haven’t met Wooyoung yet. Oblivious to your puzzled expression, he adds proudly, “Cherry flavor, and I promise this shit will rock your world.” 

“Don’t mind if I take one,” you mutter and pop one in your mouth. In your opinion, it’s not the best there is, but it isn’t inedible either. But with the way Wooyoung is waiting expectantly with large puppy eyes, you don’t have the heart to talk about its mediocrity and say, “They’re really good.” 

Wooyoung leans back in his seat with a satisfied nod. The two of you fall into casual conversation—a mild debate about almond vs. soy milk—until Changbin announces himself loudly as he enters the break room. 

“And this is my cue to leave. See you around,” Wooyoung winks at you and delivers a hard slap on Changbin’s shoulder as he brushes past him. In response, Changbin trips him, causing the other to stumble and throw a string of profanities at him. 

Once Wooyoung disappears from your eyesight, Changbin embraces you in a bone-crushing hug and kisses the top of your head. “Have you been waiting long?” 

“No. Besides, Wooyoung kept me company.” Your voice comes out muffled as your face is squished into his chest. 

He holds you close for a moment longer, allowing you to wallow in his scent. The mixture of disinfectant, musk and cedar wood makes you light-headed—strangely intoxicated, even. You’re usually not sensitive to scents, but the smell creeps into all of your senses, materializing in a foggy vision and clammy skin. It’s so overwhelming that you struggle to breathe, and before you know it, all strength leaves your body and you slouch on Changbin. The motion catches him off guard, forcing him to steady himself with a palm on the table. 

Something isn’t right. Luckily, Changbin catches it too.

“You don’t look well.” 

“I don’t feel well either,” you croak. 

“Shit. Let me clock out, then we’ll head straight home.”

It’s a chain reaction. All alarms go off in Changbin’s head as he guides you to the chair, then strips off his lab coat and frantically shoves all of his notes into his bag, as if it were a race against time before you burst. 

Perhaps it is one. It sure feels like one.

It definitely is one. 

The drive home usually takes 20 minutes tops. This time, it feels like 20 years.

Everything is a blur and a mix of colors by the time Changbin carries you up the stairs to your apartment. It’s sort of a déjà vu, with the way your legs turned into soggy noodles and you regressed to dead weight as he hauls you onto the bed. To ease the flush on your face and beads of sweat forming on your hairline, he makes a beeline for the kitchen and returns a moment later with a damp cloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

Everything is a blur and mix of colors, yet you see Changbin as clear as day.

While concern is bleeding into his expression, you couldn’t care less. Instead, you focus on the way he bites on his bottom lip, his jaw clenches, and how you’d do anything to run your fingers through his soft hair. Screw that leather jacket he’s wearing, concealing his beefy arms and tats—at this point, you’d prefer his compression shirts that are a pain to get off.

Then there’s his damn scent. It grows more tantalizing, consumes you the more seconds pass. Everything reeks of Changbin Changbin Changbin and all you can think about is how you crave his strong hands on your thighs and spreading them wide apart, his tongue lapping up all your juices like a predator toying with his prey, his kind yet firm gaze forcing you to grip the headboard and astral projecting you three dimensions over. 

Unaware of the hunger building in your eyes, Changbin gently wipes the sweat away with the washcloth. “You’re burning up.” 

So it comes off as a surprise when your hand latches onto his and you tug him onto you, causing his upper body to crash into you. 

“What are you doing?” Changbin hisses, searching your eyes for answers. Before he gets to push himself up, you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Need you, now.” It’s not a request, and he knows it. 

Nonetheless, he tears away from you, shooting you an incredulous look. You try to reel him back, but he manages to get away from the bed and takes two steps back. He’s trying to figure out the logic in your behavior; you see the cogs working overtime in his brain, but he falls flat.

“Seriously. Did you eat something bad?”

“Just had coffee in the office with Wooyoung and some of the cherry candy—”

“Cherry?” And just like that, he pieces the puzzle together. The next thing you know, Changbin is pacing around the room with clenched fists, spitting out every curse under the sun. 

When he turns back to your clueless face, he sighs. Whether it’s in anger or in defeat, you can’t tell. “Those were aphrodisiacs. Wooyoung made them a while back but he fucked up the formula and I thought we threw them all away, because our supervisor would have our heads if we accidentally gave them to our test people—and you had—fuck, I’m so going to fucking kill him.” 

He proceeds to walk back and forth, grumbling and blaming himself for letting it happen, but he’s so far up his head that he ignores the elephant in the room. He doesn’t look when you clear your throat, doesn’t register that you sit up. You can only take so much of the blatant disrespect that when you raise your voice, it’s fueled by anger.

“Before you get to fucking kill him, get to fucking me first.” 

The brashness in your tone gives him whiplash and causes him to stop dead in his tracks. Finally, he looks at you. He sees the slight tremor in your hands, your half-lidded eyes, and your chest heaving. Gone is the concern and anger, now replaced with confliction.

Changbin has standards, morals, but his resolve is growing weaker by the second when he sees you panting with want. The sight of you has his blood rushing south straight to his dick. He’s never witnessed you this agitated, this needy before. But even if it breaks him, he will not cross that line. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not in your right mind—”

“And I don’t care!” You yell. The damage has been done already, so what is he hesitating for? Neither is Changbin stupid enough to start a full-blown lecture on not taking things from strangers (even if the stranger is Wooyoung), nor does he have to do some soul searching to find the cure to your current predicament. “I’m horny, I’m burning up and you’re the only one who can help me. You’re the only one who can help me but you don’t want to help me because of your strange self-imposed righteousness to not act on your corruption kink!” 

If he was still fighting his inner demons of taking you then and there, you took him out of it. In place, shock has settled on his features. “What?! That’s not what’s happening.” Changbin says, but it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself.

“Stop lying to me! Chaeryeong alluded to it during your tattoo appointment, something about how half of your friend group is into that. Wooyoung said something about your fascination with my skirts?! If that isn’t enough proof, I can also ask Hyunjin about it. I bet 20 bucks that he will say something along those lines—” 

“Okay, sure, say I admit to that. That also proves that you want me to be that way!” He visibly cringes at the weak rebuttal. It isn’t even a rebuttal at all. 

“I don’t want you to hold back,” you cry, scrambling for any words that might trigger a switch in him. “I want it rough, I want it mean, I want whatever it is that you want to do to me.”

Changbin’s demeanor changes. As if the winds have changed, his expression turns cold, and all of a sudden, he’s the calmest he’s been in this whole ordeal. You can’t tell if you’ve pushed it too far, or if this is another one of his meditation exercises, albeit unconventional in a situation like this. It doesn’t stop you from growing wet with excitement though. 

“You want it rough?” His voice is low as he lets his jacket drop to the floor with a thud, revealing the plain black tank top that brings the best out of his arms. 

You nod shakily. All at once, you realize that you may have triggered more than you bargained for.

“You want it mean? Fine, I’ll give you mean.”

Expecting a hand bunching up your hair or rough hands roaming your body, you brace yourself for what is to come. However, nothing happens. 

Instead, Changbin drags the desk chair to the foot of the bed at a painstakingly slow rate, then makes himself comfortable. With his arms draped behind the back of the chair and legs spread out, showcasing the prominent bulge straining against his jeans, he’s watching your every move like a hawk.

“You say only I can help you? Show me how much you need me.” 

Your mouth runs dry. Where should you even begin? Changbin doesn’t give you the luxury of any pointers; simply waits for your next moves. Despite the simple pretense, it’s a lot he’s requiring from you. He’s usually the one to initiate, to talk you through it. This is the moment where your inexperience shines through.

Once the silence gets too loud, you look at him with helpless eyes. “How do I do that?”

Changbin raises a brow. After a moment of deliberation, he says, “Strip. Use your creativity. You can start with that.” You gawk when he points at the pillow next to you. “You want to try out new things? Now’s the chance to do all that.”

Is he really implying what you think he is? Your face burns even more with the way he speaks so nonchalantly, as if he does this every other Thursday. At least he’s given you directions, you figure, so you ignore the humiliation running in your veins straight to your core, and slip off the clothes until you’re left in nothing but your underwear. 

“Take off everything.”

It takes you a bit of hesitation to slip out the remaining pieces of clothes. Even though it isn’t the first time he’s seen you naked, you’ve never seen him outright eye-fuck you like this. Changbin merely cocks his head to the side, giving an appreciative hum as his eyes rake down your figure and burn every last detail into his memory. “C’mon baby, give me a show.”

You shakily reach for the object in question and place it between your shaky legs and you instantly hate. The silk is soft and it doesn’t put up any sort of resistance, deflating in an instant. But the petname makes you want more, makes you want to be good for him like you always have, so you suck it up and bunch it up as tightly as you can before you rub yourself against it. Despite the pressure being nonexistent, the contact of it on your clit has you jolting forward. It’s then and there when you realize how much the aphrodisiacs are heightening your senses.

You try to rock back, but the pillow falls flat. What you’re displaying doesn’t even deserve to be called a show, just a haphazard attempt to experience any semblance of friction against your folds; a clumsy sequence of you adjusting the pillow and gliding once, then rinse and repeat. Frustration and tears bubble up as any variation you make to fold it doesn’t hold. This is a new level of degradation Changbin is subjecting you to and all he does is sit and stare in silence, relishing your state.

Sooner than later, your thighs are on the brink of giving up and you cannot be bothered anymore; not with the lazy smirk on Changbin’s face, not with the entire assignment. You throw the pillow to the side and look at him in frustration. All you get in response is an expectant look. 

He wants a show? Fine, a show he’ll get. 

Changbin looks unimpressed when you clumsily move towards him and slide a leg between his to sit on one of his thighs, though the raging hard-on he’s sporting begs to differ. He opens his mouth, about to breathe out a remark but jerks when you claw your nails into his shoulders and start rutting his thigh like a cat in heat. 

“The pillow was n-not enough, hngh—” you gasp as you use his thigh to get off. The fabric of his jeans is rough against your cunt, and you’re pretty sure he can throw this pair away with the amount of your slick you’re spreading on it, but you’re too busy chasing your high to care. 

And because he wants a show and you want to be good, you throw your head back, allowing the unfiltered moans to leave your throat. The effect is immediate; Changbin sucks in a sharp breath of air and flexes his thigh, giving you more room to work with. 

“Fucking hell,” he grits as his hands latch onto your hips and dictate a rough pace while you’re riding his thigh, “you’ll be the death of me.” 

The grunts don’t stop and it all becomes such a blur that you are soon reaching sensory overload, stars covering your vision when Changbin plants his lips on your collarbone and nips on the skin.

“Let me see how much you need me,” he coos, followed by a string of words of encouragement.

The sensations rush to your head and you can’t tell left from right apart, the heat of it all coiling in your stomach. At a certain point, you no longer comprehend what he’s saying, just that he’s saying something. Your hips stutter relentlessly, crashing against the pattern that Changbin is giving. It’s reaching flow state in its most degenerate form, and you’re not really aware of it when you cum on him with a cry. His hands are brutal as he encourages you to ride out your high, drenching his jeans to the point past saving. 

It’s still not enough. 

Luckily, Changbin thinks the same and carries you back to the bed, letting your back fall against the mattress. He wastes no time stripping his own clothes and before you know it, his mouth is on yours.

“You’re doing so good. So good for me,” he groans in between kisses, his length lying heavy on your abdomen. The praises don’t stop coming in, even when he props himself on his forearm to reach for the drawer of the nightstand, but you stop him at the wrist. 

“No condom.”

Changbin’s eyes widen and the corners of his mouth twitch. “You sure—”

“I swear to God, if you don’t put it in me right now, then I—” you choke, body spasming when Changbin bottoms out in one fluid motion without warning. The immediate stretch has you moaning in pain, and before you get to adjust to his sheer size, he starts moving with slow, controlled, deep thrusts.

“Changbin— f-fuck—” you weakly hit his shoulders in a lazy attempt to get him to back off, “I can’t—”

“Wrong, you can do it,” Changbin says it with such conviction that you believe him. He shudders, overstimulated by feeling you bare for the first time and almost topples over from the sheer force you’re sucking his cock in. “My baby’s so good for me, taking it all.”

You roll your eyes back, reveling in the compliments he showers you with in between grunts. Soon enough, the stings turn into pleasure and once Changbin senses that your hips are bucking up for more, he throws one of your legs over his shoulder and deepens the angle. The intensity of it all has you babbling nonsense and clutching the bedsheets. 

“I’m close,” you sob, sensing your demise climbing up to you at record speed. 

“Cum for me,” Changbin orders in between groans, then adds, “Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” 

Your orgasm crashes onto you like a tidal wave. Changbin’s name leaves your mouth like a broken record and you’re pretty sure you’re drooling from how good he’s fucking you through your orgasm still, but you cannot be bothered to care. He’s close moments later and just when he’s about to pull out, you wrap your legs around him, locking him into place. 

Panic flashes in his eyes, because he’s running out of time and cannot hold it in anymore but you beat him to it. “Want you to cum inside of me,” you beg deliriously, “If you’re going to ruin me, do it— h-haah— do it properly.” 

The last comment makes him capitulate. Shivers ripple down his spine as he spurts white inside of you with a deep groan. His broad frame is trembling as your pussy milks him dry, cum hot and sticky as your fluids mix with a loud squelch. He’s still heaving when he pulls out of you and stares at the aftermath in awe; you spent under him, cum pooling out of you. If only he were well-versed in photography, because it’s the prettiest you have ever looked and it’d be a shame to keep this image only in his memory.

You wonder how Changbin still has the energy to get up when you’re as spent as a ragdoll. The fog in your vision gradually clears as you stare up at the ceiling, unable to do anything else. 

“How are you feeling?” Changbin grabs the washcloth from before and begins to clean you up to the best of his abilities, keeping his touch light and gentle. It’s not enough to entirely clean the mess between your legs, but it should suffice for now, until he has regained the energy to carry you to the bathroom and wash you off properly. 

“That was incredible,” you breathe, still basking in the afterglow. 

Changbin drops the cloth aside to grab the glass of water and let you take small sips out of it. He finishes whatever is left before he joins you in bed, wrapping an arm around your frame and pulling you close.

“This will not be the last time, right?” you ask. 

Changbin smiles and plays with a few strands of your hair.

“I’ll ruin you as much as you want.”  

Wooyoung is grinning like a Cheshire cat, oblivious to the impending storm when Changbin enters the office. 

“Binnie! How are you—”

“Jung Wooyoung, I’m going to kill you.”

The next thing Wooyoung knows, he’s in a headlock at the mercy of the other. This is one of the moments where Wooyoung wishes he never quit taekwondo. It is also one of the moments where Wooyoung finds it unfair that Changbin still knows the moves by muscle memory despite having quit martial arts in middle school. Damn that black belt.

“Before I die, pray tell, did I do any good to the cause?” Wooyoung wheezes, tapping incessantly at Changbin’s bicep to ask for air. It is all in vain though, as Changbin purposefully squeezes tighter. Where the fuck is their supervisor when Wooyoung needs her the most?!

Sometimes, on nights like these, where you’re about to see the sun rise for the second time without a wink of sleep in between, you think you might regret pursuing a career as an idol.

The schedules are never ending, and you’re up at the break of dawn and stuck in the same damn building for almost 24 hours. Now, it’s partially your own fault - classes always end at eight at the latest - but your resilience and willingness to push yourself outside of trainee classes is what landed you the chance to even debut in the first place. The teachers and managers had praised you for your hard work and your dedication, and when you had been offered the chance to debut just under two years into your training, you knew it had all been worth it.

You shiver to think of having to stay a trainee for as long as some of the other idols in the company had. You’d barely survived your time there, fueled by adrenaline, espresso shots, and the fact that everything starts to get pleasantly blurry when you’re running on little to no sleep.

It had certainly paid off. Your group was only five people, and as Chae, your leader had said, you were small but mighty. Your debut had turned a lot of heads, more heads than the company was expecting, and they were scrambling to do extra promotion work to take your popularity off even further. It felt surreal, to see your group name in the charts, your debut EP a work of love between the five of you, and you’re already so, so hopeful for the future.

Admittedly, this had partially been because you had run into Bang Chan in the hallways earlier and he had recognized you. His eyes had softened as you passed each other, and he had said your name like a question. When you told him that yes, that was indeed you (with far too many stuttering words in between), he complimented your music and your lyrics.

“I’m really excited to see what you guys can do,” he had said, politely nodding his head at you, “Don’t be a stranger. If you ever need any producing tips, I’m always here.”

“I basically live here, it’d probably be harder to not see me around,” you had said, tone informal, before your brain could snap into place, “Oh my god I’m so so sorry! Joesonghabnida! Sorry, Chan-ssi, I didn’t mean to be so informal!”

He had just laughed you off, checked his watch, and reminded you again that you could always come around. You drag through the rest of the day in a drunken haze, still riding off the high of meeting Bang Chan of Stray Kids. You felt like you’d just achieved every fan dream you’ve ever had.

“I feel so lucky.” you said with a dreamy sigh to Chae afterwards, who just rolled her eyes.

“He literally works here,” she reminds you, jabbing sharply at your side to make you jump, “You were going to run into one of them eventually.”

“Imagine what would happen if they were to meet Changbin,” Jihoo, your maknae, teased from across the practice room, “Do you think they’d get down on one knee right then and there?”

“Jihoo,” you whine, though there’s pink dusting your cheeks, “Stop it. I wouldn’t embarrass myself that bad. Plus, I’m prepared now! I’ve met their leader, I can meet anyone.”

“Uh huh,” she says back, unconvinced, “Tell that to the dwaekki shrine on your side of the room.”

“Also sounds kinda like mister Bang was flirting with you,” Chelsea, as unhelpful as always, pipes up from her position against the wall, “Offering to give you producing tips? More like you’re going to see his tip-”

“Yah, stop it, that’s enough,” Chae says, cutting off that thought before it can even weasel its way into your head properly, “You guys got an extra minute. Everyone back into positions.”

“Bet you’re imagining what kind of positions Chan could have you in-”

“Chelsea.”

You thought that would be in. Weeks blur by, your schedule full of photoshoots and dance challenges and long hours in the studio with Chae, building beats and harmonies until your ears ring and your head feels like it’s going to explode. Post-debut is a haze, a blur of performances and appearances and interviews where your hair feels too stiff and your smile feels painted on. The dorm is sleepy in the aftermath, barely anyone ever functional enough when they do get to actually come home that night to do much more than sleep. Chae chides you for sleeping on the studio couch for the third time this week, and you bite your tongue when you want to point out that she had fallen asleep in the practice room last night, not her bed.

It’s now, when your schedule couldn’t possibly have enough room for you to even breathe, that your manager comes over to you tentatively, tablet in hand, barely looking up to acknowledge you.

“We got contacted by one of the other groups in the company,” she drones, voice tired around the edges, too, “They’d be willing to send a couple of their members to film the dance challenge to your song alongside members. They can only spare one or two people, but it would be a good chance to get some extra publicity.”

“There’s a catch, or you wouldn’t be giving me the exposition,” you say, eyes squinting up at her, “What’s different about this then when we filmed with NEXZ?”

“Seo Changbin, that’s what,” she says, “And before you can back out, you’re the only one with availability that matches his. They just ask that you learn the choreo for their newest song…Do It, I think?”

She watches you bluescreen in real time, mouth opening and closing uselessly as you try and process what she just told you.

“You’re meeting with him at seven tonight in one of the practice rooms on the fifth floor,” she says with a sigh, massaging the wrinkles forming between her eyebrows, “Please don’t cause me any more headaches. Be normal, and just film the stupid video.”

“Wait, tonight?” you hiss out, broken out of your reverie by the looming fact that you’ll be meeting your ult bias in the flesh, alone in a practice room, tonight, “I don’t have enough time to learn the choreo-”

“I already explained that to them,” she said, tone flat, like you’re the idiot for not knowing she’d already be three steps ahead, “He’s willing to walk you through it. You’ve both got free time in your schedules tomorrow, too, if you can’t get to filming both tonight. Don’t let us down.”

You don’t get a chance to interject before she’s walking away, heels clicking against the cold tile floor, the sound echoing and sharp, and you become hyperaware of the fact that this is real. The guy that you’ve had perhaps the biggest celebrity crush on quite literally since they debuted was going to be meeting you. Tonight. Alone. In a stupid JYP practice room, under the ugly LED lights that make you kind of feel like a troll.

 “Okay, okay.” you mutter to yourself, feet bringing you to the studio on autopilot. “You’re fine, This is fine.”

“What’s fine?” Chelsea says from behind you, making you jump.

“Woah, hey,” you respond, startled, heart already in your throat thinking about tonight, “Scared me. And nothing, like I said, it’s fine.”

“Doesn’t sound fine,” she says, reaching around you to type in the code to the studio, “You’ve been standing in front of the door like a psycho for a minute now, muttering to yourself.”

You withhold, not willing to concede that perhaps Jihoo had been right, after all, and you were going to make a complete and utter fool of yourself tonight. You think you’re going to be able to pretend that everything’s normal, that you’re completely and utterly fine, until you’re inside the studio, and Jihoo is perched on the couch, giving you possibly the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen on her.

“Soooo…” she starts, eyes sharp and amusement clear on her face, “A little birdie told me something interesting today!”

You groan, and Chae peeks around you, curious.

“What? Hey, what’s she talking about?” She says, eyes bright and questioning.

“A little birdie told me someone is going to be doing a dance challenge soon…alone, with another idol…”

“Uh huh,” you say, giving her an exasperated look, “Look, you clearly already know who it is. Stop dragging it out.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were doing a dance challenge with the love of your life??” she squeals, jumping off the couch to grab you and shake you by the shoulders. “I can’t believe you. This is betrayal, you know?? How come I had to hear from manager-nim??”

“You’re doing a video with Changbin??” Chae exclaims, bouncing up and down on her heels. “Can someone record the whole interaction for us? I want to see the whole thing. Especially the part where you turn into a tomato and profess your undying love.”

“Ch-ch-ch-changbin-ssi! I luh-luh-love you! Be my b-boyfriend!” Jihoo mocks, shifting her voice to make it sound like yours.

She strikes a nervous pose, making her eyes really big and fidgeting with the hems of her hoodie sleeves. 

“Don’t tease,” you pout, cheeks puffing up, “I’ll be totally cool. Nonchalant, even. No proclamations of love. He’s just a boy, it’s not that serious.”

Both Chae and Jihoo snort, and you pry yourself free of them, sliding into one of the production chairs, refusing to look at any of them as you fiddle with sound settings. They murmur something between themselves that you don’t catch and burst into a fit of giggles, and you turn a dial aggressively, trying not to look over your shoulder and glare at them.

“Hey though, on a serious note?” Chae says, and the sincerity in her voice makes you tilt your head to look at her. “You’ll be fine. If he thinks you’re weird we’ll sick Chelsea on him.”

“She’ll eat him alive.” Jihoo says, nodding in mock seriousness.

“Alright, enough about the Changbin stuff,” you say, his name feeling heavy in your mouth, “Jihoo, you still need to re-record your lines. I don’t have all day, and neither do you.”

“Because you have a date with Changbiiiin!” she sings, skipping into the recording booth, and you flip her off without sparing her a glance.

Everything goes smoothly from there, minus a few more jabs from Jihoo about your “date” later, and suddenly you’re saying goodbye, and the clock on your phone is blinking at you, big bold numbers reading “6:11”. You’ve got nothing until your meeting with Changbin, and the reality of meeting your bias is starting to settle heavy in your bones. You don’t think you can eat now, not with the swirl of anxiety and nerves overtaking your stomach, so you do what you’ve always done - go to a practice room and drown yourself in dance.

You find your texts with your manager and let your feet carry you to the practice room where you’re supposed to be meeting Changbin. A quick knock and a peek in shows that the room is empty, and you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. You’ll be teaching him one of your songs, too, and while you’re pretty sure you could do this dance fully asleep, you go through it a few times, letting the familiarity of the moves settle the buzz of nerves under your skin. You don’t need the music, the song basically carved into your mind at this point, and you sing it quietly as your body moves through the steps again and again (and again). 

It’s not enough. You stop midway through the choreo, the part of your mind that was on autopilot protesting as your arms keep moving through the next beat. You give yourself a quick shake and slap your cheeks between your hands.

“Get it together.” You huff, looking at yourself in the mirror.

You can see the tension in the way you stood - shoulders high, fingers shaking, feet shifting too often to just be because you don’t like to sit still. You dig out of your phone, connect it to the speaker in the room, and flip through half-speed mirror videos until you’ve found one that looks pretty accurate. You’ve got about twenty minutes to 6:45 now, and you suppose you can try and teach yourself the “Do It” choreo now. Save Changbin some of the trouble (and you the embarrassment of totally fumbling the moves in front of him).

The music, a bit distorted from being slowed down, fills the room, and you prop your phone, making sure the video is on repeat. You let your mind shut off for a moment, let the idol in you take over, and hone in on the dance, watching the instructor with sharp eyes. She’s very deliberate in her movements, mouthing out counts over the song so you know when things are supposed to hit.

You kind of black out after that, as you always do when you’re learning choreo. It’s like a different version of you takes over, the version of you that pulled you through all the late nights as a trainee. You don’t learn choreo, you let it take over you, let the music pull you like a puppet on strings. You have to admit that the Do It choreo is good, so well-synced to the music that it’s not hard to get lost in the way your body flows to the beat.

Which is exactly why you don’t hear the knock on the door, or the way the door eventually opens behind you, or the footsteps of someone approaching. You finally think you’ve got the back half of the choreo down, and just when you’re about to repeat the choreo again, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, and you about jump out of your skin. The sound you let out of your mouth is a mix between a yelp and a screech, like a cat who got its tail stepped on.

“Sorry, sorry!” The tapper says, sheepish, “Didn’t mean to scare you. I did knock and call out to you first, I promise…”

You flush a deep scarlet, your phone still looping the slowed-down music over the speaker, and will yourself to stare at the person in front of you.

You should’ve known that Jihoo would be right. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone more beautiful than Seo Changbin. His hair is messy, the kind of messy that makes you want to run your fingers through the strands, and he’s wearing a pair of glasses and a too-tight tank top that should be criminal. Your eyes drop to the way his arm muscles bulge almost obscenely, and you’re biting your lower lip nervously, brain already imagining many non-professional uses for those arms.

“I uhm- I’m so, uh, so sorry!” You squeak, forcing your eyes back up to actually look him in the eyes.

Fuck, he has pretty eyes. You’re distracted again, and you’re pretty sure that your cheeks might be on fire from how hot they feel.

“No no no, it’s okay, I promise!” He says, waving his hands frantically to emphasize his point, “I probably could’ve been louder. I was just a bit nervous to interrupt you.”

You laugh, a tinkling sound, the kind that falls out of your mouth without your control. “Was I that bad at the choreo?”

He doesn’t catch the sarcastic lilt to your voice, and he shakes his head, eyes wide. “No, nothing like that, I promise! You were actually uh, pretty good at it. You were really…feeling the music.”

Everything feels surprisingly…easy, after that. You properly introduce yourself, bowing a full ninety degree bow as you apologize to him for missing his entrance. He laughs when you call him “Changbin-ssi”, insisting that you call him anything else.

“Makes me feel old,” he says, nose wrinkling as he thinks about it, “You’re not that much younger than me. I’m not old enough to be Changbin-ssi yet, let me hold on to my youth for a little bit longer!”

He’s so dramatic. You kind of thought it was a bit that he did for the cameras, all the drama and the jokes and the big smiles, but you realize quickly that Changbin might actually just be like that. He’s endlessly kind, guiding you carefully through the parts of the choreo that you couldn’t quite grasp without being harsh about it.

“Your foot is landing at the wrong angle, so it’s making it harder for you to hit the next step,” he points out, sliding behind you to adjust your foot angle with a careful nudge of his foot, “There. If you land like this every time, then the next step will feel more natural. Try it with me.”

The two of you flow between learning choreo and easy conversation, and while the thump of your heart against your ribcage doesn’t stop, it does slow down, your nerves settling into something closer to your normal state. You decide to record the dance video for your song tonight, and then the “Do It” one tomorrow, to give you more time to grasp it.

“I actually already learned the choreo for your song,” he admits, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “I thought the choreo was cute, and the song is really catchy. Pretty sure Hyunjin knows all the words at this point from how many times I’ve played it in the dorm.”

You have to spend the rest of the time pretending that this information doesn’t make your heart flutter and your face feel warm. You send a quick flurry of texts to Chae that includes too many hearts and at least one “he listens to OUR music chae. Changbin listens to our music!!!!!” when you’re taking a water break that Changbin had insisted on. 

The video drops that night on your group’s accounts, and it’s a hit. Despite only showing the two of you interacting outside of the dance for a split second at the start and the very end of the video, fans are commenting on how much they “love” the dynamic between the two of you. 

“I didn’t know I needed this collab until it happened” and “how dare JYP deprive us of the two of them for this long” were the top comments within an hour of the video dropping, and by the next morning, you’re waking up to a text from your manager about doing more dance videos with Changbin.

“Can’t believe you didn’t fumble,” Chelsea says over breakfast, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“They went from groupie to trending ship on Twitter, I’m lowkey jealous,” Jihoo says, “I want to give a speech at your wedding. When is the wedding, by the way?”

“Stop it,” Chae says, seeing the way you look like you want to drown yourself in your untouched bowl of cereal, “...I’m going to be the one giving the speech.”

“Chae, not you too!” You groan, giving up on having any peace this morning. “There’s no wedding. Why are you guys so shocked that I was able to be professional last night??”

“Because you’re obsessed with the guy, sue me for thinking you’d be a little weird around him.” Jihoo responds, and you huff, stuffing your mouth with breakfast so you don’t have to respond.

The rest of your schedule for the day is a total blur until you’re standing outside of the practice room on the fifth floor again, raising your hand to knock on the door tentatively.

“Come in!” A muffled voice yells through the door, and you pop in, and you have to take a second to stop yourself from making an extremely inappropriate comment.

Somehow, Changbin has managed to find an even tighter tank top than the one he wore yesterday. It’s black and way too tight to be legal, his chest practically stretching the material thin from how much it’s pushing against the flimsy fabric. The grey sweatpants he’s wearing are leaving very little to the imagination as well, and you’re pretty sure if you look hard enough you can see the outline of his cock through the material. You wonder if he’s even allowed to wear that kind of thing in a video that’s going on the internet. Selfishly, you kind of want to keep the image of it to yourself.

“Everything okay?” He says, snapping you out of your extremely inappropriate reverie.

“Y-yeah!” You say with a gulp, trying (and failing) not to let your eyes roam, “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry it’s uhm…been a long day?”

Your tone is perhaps the least convincing thing you’ve ever heard, and he studies you carefully, like he can tell you’re lying, but he doesn’t push. Just beckons you further into the room with a grin, and a bounce in his step.

Everything is going fine at first. You’ve got the same flow as yesterday, the same easy banter and energy that filled the room before. You’re bouncing off of each other in a way that feels almost natural, in a way that you’d only ever dreamed about. He refuses to let you keep using the mirror video to polish the Do It choreo, something about having a “perfectly good model right here” and how it’s “basically betrayal” to try and use a mirror video when he could just teach you himself.

“Alright sunbaenim, teach me, then!”

 That’s the moment when things shift, though you don’t realize it until later. You miss the way that the title makes Changbin’s ears turn pink, miss the way that his breath catches in his throat and his fingers twitch at his side. Had you been paying attention to the shape of his dick in those grey sweatpants, you would’ve caught the way it twitched, just once, filling out just a bit. It’s not noticeable if you’re not looking for it, and you’re not, not yet, too focused on trying not to make yourself look stupid in front of Changbin as you’re fixing the choreo.

It’s when he’s adjusting your footing again, a weird tension building that you can’t explain, that you feel it. He’s behind your back now, body pressed against yours as he explains the way you’re supposed to be shifting. It’s too close to just be friendly, the kind of close that makes your brain get a little fuzzy around the edges. You can feel his breath against your cheek, his hands big as they come to rest on your waist like they belong there. And as he guides you backwards into a step you overcorrect, stepping just a bit too far back, and your ass presses directly against his crotch. Both of you stop breathing for a second, his cock slotted perfectly into your ass, and you have to do everything in your power not to buck back and grind him into you. 

Because Changbin is hard. Well, not fully, but he’s definitely chubbed up, the shape of him too firm and solid against you to be completely soft. You don’t react - can’t react - because he’s stepping out of your space quickly. You glance at him in the mirror through your lashes, heat flooding your veins, and you see the way that his neck has red creeping down it, his fingers flexing subtly by his sides like he’s trying to hold something back.

“Thanks sunbae,” you say, voice breathy and a little teasing, “I’ll get it this time.”

He nods, tongue coming out to lick over his lips, and shakily starts the music again. You know the choreo now - you both know that you do - but a little part of you can’t help but mess up the arm movements at the end, movements sloppy and off-beat. You hadn’t messed it up before, not once, this part being one of the things you got before Changbin had even come in the first day. You could tell he knew it was on purpose by the way his eyes sharpened when you met his in the mirror and he stops the music, shaking his head. There’s something swirling in his eyes, making them darken, and suddenly you feel very small under his gaze. You swallow nervously, and he catches the movement, eyes flicking to your throat and then back to your face through the mirror.

When he slides up behind you this time it’s deliberate. He’s impossibly close again, and his voice is low, rumbling against your back in a way that makes you shiver.

“You know that move, c’mon,” he says, mouth dangerously close to your ear, “Sunbae will remind you.”

He grabs your hand from behind loosely, and he counts off the beats in your ear. The two of you step together as one unit, and he guides your hand from behind, sharp and controlling. You can’t take your eyes off of him in the mirror, and he’s staring right back, intense and heavy. When the two of you hit the final pose, he presses forward into you again, on purpose this time, and the outline of him makes you gasp before you can choke it down.

“You make it very hard for me to be professional,” he says, hand releasing yours to come grip at your hip, “But you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Teasing me, making me break. Making me like this.”

He emphasizes his point by bucking forward again, and your head falls back onto his shoulder, a whine pulling out of your throat. Both of his hands are on your hips down, and he rolls forward again lazily, grinning down at you.

“Naughty hoobae.” he hums, fingers sliding to sit under the hem of your shirt.

“Naughty sunbae,” you pant back, your brain struggling to comprehend that you’re really in this sort of position with Changbin right now, “Coming on to your poor, innocent hoobae. What would the company say?”

“Is that what happened?” He chuckles, low and mean, “Because if I remember, somebody messed up easy choreo just to get me like this. Am I wrong?”

“You were distracting me, sunbae,” you pout, head lolling as he builds up a rhythm against you, “Looking so good in that tank top. You were teasing me with your arms.”

He just hums against you, then, after a moment of thought, lets you go, stepping back. You stumble, struggling to find your footing for a moment without his warmth against your back. You spin around once you’re steady again, confusion written on your face, and Changbin just cocks an eyebrow at you, looking so fucking smug as he takes in your state.

“What? Thought I was corrupting my ‘poor, innocent hoobae,’” he says, playing dumb, “I’m sorry, we can get back to the choreo now. That was really inappropriate of me.”

You sputter, indignantly, before your face hardens into something like determination, and you step over to him in two big strides and grab him by that offending tank top, yanking him down and crashing his lips to yours. The unnamed tension that had been building since you called him “sunbaenim” snaps, and he groans into your mouth, pressing into you.

The practice room starts to feel warm, air sticky with arousal and full of the sloppy sound of lips colliding. It’s messy, all spit and teeth, as the two of you fight for dominance. You know you’ve lost, you know you can’t win against him, not when he’s built like that, but you fight back anyways, because you’ll be damned if you go down without a fight. His hand comes to cradle the back of your head, kindly at first, but when you bite into his lower lip, the touch gets meaner, fingers tangling into your hair to control your movements. The easy dominance makes you moan into his mouth, heat curling in your gut, and you buck forward, whimpering at the lack of friction where you need it.

He pulls back, panting, and studies your face. You’re sure you already look fucked out, all pretty and flushed under his hooded gaze, hips twitching upwards when his grip tightens in your hair. 

“Tell me you want this,” he says, breathing labored and eyes dark, “Please. Need to know that you want this.”

You shiver in his hold, so turned on you can barely convince your mouth to form anything other than a moan. “Please. Want it, need it, please. Please, sunbae?”

He groans, forehead falling forward to rest against yours. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You want to say something teasing back, but you can’t, because before you can open your mouth, Changbin is slipping his fingers into your loose dance pants, guiding them down slowly. You know it’s because he wants to give you the chance to stop him, give you a chance to tell him no, but it feels like torture, like he’s teasing you by making you wait. You’re squirming by the time he’s guiding you to step out of each leg, arousal leaking through the fabric of your underwear.

“Fuck.” He says, and it’s the only warning you get before you feel yourself being lifted into the air, your legs over Changbin’s shoulders. 

You squeak, unprepared to be lifted like this, and he walks until your back is pressed to the cold mirror and his breath is hot against your arousal.

He presses forward to mouth at you through your underwear, spit mixing with your liquid arousal and darkening the wet spot at the front of the fabric. You both let out a moan as he mouths at you, your eyes rolling back as you finally get a taste of the friction you’ve been craving, hips pressing forward and legs wrapping around his head. He’s impatient, though, and you feel his fingers release you, only his shoulders and the mirror behind you holding you up now. Your hands scramble to find his hair, grounding yourself, and his fingers come to slide under your underwear. You open your mouth to ask how he could possibly get those off without putting you down, but you’re interrupted by a riiiip! sound filling the room, and another glob of precum escapes you because Changbin just ripped your underwear off.

“Oh my god.” You moan out, blinking down at him like he’s crazy.

He has the audacity to wink up at you as he drops the shredded remains of your underwear on the floor, fingers coming back up to grip at the fat of your hips as he dives into your heat. His tongue teases the rim of your entrance, circling around it before dipping just the tip of it in. He’s collecting your arousal on his tongue greedily, obscenely slurping it up. He’s making a show out of it, knowing that it’s turning you on, evident by the way you’re dripping by the time he’s done teasing you.

“Such a needy hoobae,” he coos against you, the vibration of his words making a bolt of pleasure shoot up your spine, “Dripping for me already. Fuck, you taste so good.”

His tongue finally, finally dips into your entrance, and your head hits the mirror with a clunk, a moan ripping out of your throat as he eats you out ravenously. He’s not sloppy - he’s precise, and that’s what makes it so dangerous. You’re hurdling towards your edge embarrassingly fast, the flick of his tongue curling into your sweet spot with ease making you shake in his hold. He holds you steady, greedy mouth pressing you further into the mirror as he tongue-fucks you. He moans appreciatively when your fingers wrap through his hair and tug, using his face to get yourself off. You can’t help it, it just feels so good, and soon you’re babbling, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter until-

Until he stops, pulling back just as you’re about to come. You wail, hips bucking forward, chasing his mouth, but he tsks, strong hands pinning your hips to the mirror.

“You were so naughty earlier, teasing me,” he says, looking up at you through his thick lashes, “Did you really think you deserved to come like this?”

“‘m sorry, sunbae,” you sob, twitching, body still like a livewire, “Please, please let me come, I didn’t mean to be a naughty hoobae-”

It’s a cruel trick, calling him sunbae, because you know now that it’ll get you what you want, and you try not to smile when he shudders, fingers flexing and digging deeper into your skin.

“Brat.” He huffs, but he’s already lifting you off of his shoulders, placing your unsteady feet on the floor.

You lean against the mirror hard to keep yourself upright, knees bucking under your own weight, and Changbin curses when you look up at him through teary lashes. His fingers are fumbling for the waistband of his sweatpants, and he hooks them into his boxers too, yanking them both down just low enough to free his cock.

He’s not long by any means, probably just below average in length, but he’s thick, the kind of thick that makes your mouth water. If you didn’t crave him inside you so bad you’d probably beg him for a taste, and you lick your lips as you stare at him.

“Next time,” he grits out, one hand coming down to jerk himself off once, twice, “Next time I’m going to get you on your knees and make you use that naughty mouth to get me off.”

“Mhm, yeah? What makes you think I’m going to listen to you?” You retort, like you’re not shaking and leaking at the thought of taking him down your throat.

“Because brats like you like being put in their place.” He responds.

He manhandles you until your hands are splayed across the mirror, and you’re looking yourself in the eyes, back arched back. You don’t recognize yourself at all, hair messy and pupils practically heart-shaped as Changbin lines himself up, guiding his tip to tease at your entrance. You find his eyes through the mirror, and he grins, sharp and predator, before a hand comes to grip at your hip. The other one guides his tip until it’s pressed perfectly against your entrance, just stretching it open enough to accommodate the head of him.

“Changbin.” You sob, trying to buck back, but the hand on your hip has an iron grip on you, and you can’t move. 

You let out another weak sound, tears brimming at your waterline, and he makes a disapproving sound in the back of his throat.

“That’s not my name, jagi.” He says, condescending. “If you want my cock, you have to ask properly.”

“Sunbae, sunbae, please!” You wail, and you get the breath knocked out of you when he bucks forward, sinking into your wet heat in one go.

“Oh oh oh, fuck me.” He moans, voice strained and breathy. “Shit. You’re so tight, squeezing me so good, perfect little hoobae hole sucking me in so good-”

He cuts himself off with a groan as you buck your hips back, desperate for him to just move already. The hand that was guiding his cock comes up to tangle into your hair, and he uses it as leverage as he starts to buck into you, setting an unforgiving pace.

Changbin is loud, almost louder than you, voice echoing off the walls as he takes you against the practice room mirrors. If not for the iron grip he has on your hair and on your hip, you don’t think you’d still be standing, legs jello underneath you as he plows into you just right. He’s brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust, and the girth of him is almost too much, the kind of stretch that burns. The pain is quick to morph into pleasure as he keeps using you, moaning when you flutter around him, body overwhelmed by just how good he feels.

“This was all I could think about yesterday,” he admits between moans, pace getting sloppier and harder as he loses his inhibitions, “Th-thought about-fuck! Bending you over the couch, puh-pressing my perfect little hoobae ‘nto the cushions an’ fucking into you ‘ntil you couldn’t even-hah-couldn’t even remember your own name-shit!”

His words start to blend into each other, slurring as he gets drunk on the pleasure of your wet heat surrounding him. You try to warn him that something’s coming, that you’re dangerously close, but the only words you can get out are “please” and “sunbae!”. He gets the picture, though, and suddenly he’s pulling out. You sob at the loss, until the world spins, and he’s lifting you again, pressing your back into the now slightly-fogged mirror before he slips back in.

You’re both so wet that he slips back in with no resistance, the mix of both of your precums acting as lube. The new angle pushes him deeper than he was before, and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to meet yours in a messy kiss. You’re not even really sure it can be called a kiss, the buck of Changbin’s hips too aggressive for your mouths to really press against each other properly. You’re both just slobbering on each other, wet kisses pressed against anywhere that your mouth can reach. It’s gross, and it pushes you closer and closer to the edge that you’ve been deprived of twice now.

“Please please please!” You moan, crying properly now, tears rolling down your cheeks as you gasp, head falling back.

“I’ve got you, got you, c’mon, need you to come, you can do it, come for me, come for sunbae-hngh!”

He tips over first, and the swell of him inside of you as he comes, hot cum painting your insides, is what pushes you over. You convulse around him, heels digging so hard into his back that he’s certain it’s going to leave bruises at the small of his back. He keeps bucking, thrusts getting weaker as you both ride out your highs, and before his idol brain can stop him, he’s leaning forward and biting, right into the junction where your shoulder meets your neck. It makes you clench around him even harder, another weak moan slipping out of your mouth.

Neither of you move for a second, still shaken from your intense orgasms. Everything feels so heavy now - the air is thick with sex and sweat, your limbs feel like they belong to someone else, and your eyelids fight you as you struggle to open them. His head lifts from where it’s buried in your neck when you make a small sound, something between a whimper and a gasp, and when your eyes meet, you’re both surging forward again.

This kiss is softer, but no less heated than the previous ones. Unsaid words are pressed into this kiss, and your body relaxes against him as you kiss him, sense slowly becoming your own again.

He reluctantly pulls away from you to slip himself out of you. Both of you hiss, hypersensitive, and you wince when his cum slips out of you too, dripping down onto the vinyl hardwood of the practice room floor.

He carries you over to the couch wordlessly,  placing you gently on the cushions. You’re reluctant to let him go, but he gives you a look, and you unwrap yourself from him, letting him hobble off on unsteady legs to his bag. He looks ridiculous, sweatpants and underwear still around his thighs as he waddles away, his ass just barely peeking out over it. You wish now that your limbs were a little less heavy so that you could’ve reached out and smacked it as he walked away.

He comes back with your water bottle and his, as well as a washcloth that he procured out of nowhere. When you give him a questioning look, he finally breaks the silence, opening your water bottle and handing it to you delicately.

“I keep a clean rag in my bag in case I get too sweaty,” he says, defending himself, and you snort, making him grin, “Hey! It’s a valid concern!”

“You’re hot when you’re sweaty, though,” you say, mostly because your brain is mush and can’t stop your intrusive thoughts from winning, “Why would you want to take that away from anyone?”

He flushes, a deep pink, somehow embarrassed despite having been buried inside of you moments earlier. “Yah! You can’t just say that!”

“What? That you’re hot?” You blink up at him lazily, surprised by the sudden upperhand you’ve been handed. “Awww, can sunbae not handle a compliment? So cute, sunbae!”

He blushes deeper, using his water bottle to wet the washcloth in his hand. He uses a gentle hand to clean up your entrance, pouting at you through his lashes.

“‘m not cute.”

You coo at him, reaching out to pinch his cheek. “Says the cutest guy ever.”

“Shut up.” He says, fully red now, heat spreading down his neck and to his chest.

He guides you back into your pants, apologizing quietly about your decimated underwear, the scrap of fabric getting discarded in the practice room trashcan. You tell him it’s perhaps the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you and he groans, burying his face in your stomach. He says something that gets muffled into your stomach, and you laugh, amused by just how soft he is right now.

“Dude you were literally inside of me, why are you embarrassed that I think you’re hot?” You say, and he groans again, burying himself further into you.

“Don’t call me dude,” he complains, “And I don’t know, maybe because my bias is calling me hot?”

He freezes against you, and you freeze too.

“I’m your bias?” you say, right as he says:

“You didn’t hear that!”

The air goes still for a moment, before you’re speaking up, unwilling to let this go.

“You’re joking, right? Changbin. Sunbae.”

He groans again, ears colored red. “Don’t call me that. I’m trying to disappear.”

“Into your bias’ shirt?” you tease, and he just grumbles, fingers curling into the fabric of your pants, “For the record, you’re my bias too.”

His head snaps up, eyes glowing. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm, “Jihoo clowned on me so hard before I came up here yesterday. Chelsea said she can’t believe I ‘didn’t fumble.’”

“Oh thank god, this is far less embarrassing now,” he says, eyes twinkling with mischief, “Wait, is that why you jumped so high when I tapped your shoulder?”

“Don’t turn this around on me, mister ‘my bias called me hot,’” you say, pointing a finger at him, “Now can we please get out of this practice room? This was fun, but I don’t want to fall asleep on the fifth floor of the JYP building. Not a very hot or sexy move.”

He laughs, and helps you stand. You almost buckle, and he offers to carry you, but you have to refuse, knowing just how bad that would look if dispatch caught that on camera. He insists on holding your hand anyways (“in case you fall!”), which you suppose will look just as bad, but you don’t care. He calls you a car and sits with you the whole time, fingers playing with yours.

“Can I…” He trails off, just as the car is pulling up.

“Can you what?” You respond, looking up at him.

“Can I get your number? You can totally say no-”

You cut him off with a quick kiss, not caring who else might be around right now. Both of you already but your careers at jeopardy by fucking in the building, a quick kiss feels like nothing now.

“Obviously.”

You exchange numbers and he walks you to the car, opening the door for you. The driver sends you a knowing look and you flush. Changbin hovers near the door for a moment, hesitant and unsure what to say, and you smile up at him as you buckle your seatbelt, teasing.

“See you tomorrow, sunbae.”

He flushes, but grins back at you anyways. “Good night, hoobae.”

When you get back to the dorm, Jihoo gawks at the mark on your neck, and Chae just groans, already preparing herself for the damage control she’s probably going to have to do. But you couldn’t care less, not when your phone pings, and “Changbin <3” pops up at the top of your screen.

From: Changbin <3

>Hope I didn’t go too hard on you.

>Let me know that you got home safely, please!

>And good night, hoobae. Can’t wait to see you soon <3

After a quick clean up, Minho heads to his own dorm, but not before dropping a kiss on your head and telling you he’ll make you a snack later. 

Chan tugs you into the shower with him, showing his tender side and insisting on washing you himself. He takes his time, trailing kisses over each newly cleaned stretch of skin. Once he’s done, you do the same for him. Soon enough the suds are all gone, and you have your arms around his neck, languidly locking lips. His hold around your waist is gentle but firm. You expect him to try to take things further, but he seems happy to stay just as you are until the water starts to chill. 

Once you’re back in his room, he offers you a big t-shirt and a pair of shorts to wear if you don’t feel like putting your dress back on quite yet. Your outfit isn’t uncomfortable, but you take him up on it anyway. It’s nice to feel wrapped up in him a bit longer. 

You head out to the living room/kitchen area and find a couple bottles of water and sandwiches. Chan explains that the weird wrinkly face Minho wrote on the ‘note’ in lieu of words is his signature drawing, Jureumi. You eat then snuggle up on the couch to talk about plans for the rest of the day. Seungmin had invited you to spend the day with all of them, so you intend to do just that. Chan, however, has other plans. 

“I do have to head to the studio for a while, so I can walk you over to the other dorm. Though, Hyunjin is supposed to be back soon; I could maybe hang out until he gets back.”

“You don’t have to.” You shift and his arms tighten around you, he nuzzles his nose into your hair. He’s probably the cuddliest member you’ve spent time with so far. You’re about to tell him that you’re fine to head over to the Cutie Dorm when you hear the door open. “Oh, sounds like Hyunjin’s back anyway.”

Chan tilts your chin up to capture your lips again. His tongue slides against yours, and you start to wish Hyunjin had taken a little longer; you could kiss Chan for hours. Chan sucks your lip between his teeth for a final nibble as Hyunjin plops down onto the couch next to you. A little sigh slips out as he shoots you another of his stunning smiles. “Perfect timing, I guess. I’ll see you guys for movie night. Hyunjin-ah, be careful with her neck.”

Hyunjin cocks his head and narrows his eyes in confusion, lips pulled between his teeth, as he receives a pat on the head. “Oook. Have a good time at the studio, Hyung.”

His head lands in your lap, one hand coming up to trace a couple fingers along the right side of your throat. As he switches to the left side, his fingers still with a soft ‘oh’ when they reach the hickey. You giggle and run your own fingers through his hair as you’d seen Seungmin do a few hours before. With a contented smile, he lets his hand drop to hold yours on his chest. He tells you about his morning and asks about yours. You’re happy he keeps his eyes closed while you blush your way through a brief explanation of your time with Minho and Chan. You continue to stroke his hair and the conversation flows from his work to your studies then to the painting you saw in his room.

He’s talking through his process and inspiration when you hear footsteps behind you. You glance back and see Seungmin with a finger to his lips. As he leans over the back of the couch, you can see his fondness for the other man in the small smile on his face. Then he reaches out and squeezes Hyunjin’s side, causing him to squawk, flail, and fall off the couch. Seungmin’s laugh is musical. You didn’t think he could get any more handsome, but seeing the unadulterated joy on his face makes him all the more attractive. 

“Seungmin!” Hyunjin sputters, scrambling up to his knees. Seungmin is still tittering as he comes around to help Hyunjin up. He’s not quite forgiven yet as Hyunjin moves to take Chan’s vacated spot, putting you between the two of them. 

Seungmin’s hand rests on Hyunjin’s knee, arm balanced on your leg, his smile a mile wide. “I’m sorry, Hyunjin-ah. I couldn’t resist.” 

Hyunjin huffs but puts his hand on Seungmin’s. You can’t help but chuckle; you love seeing them interact like this. 

“So,” Seungmin focuses on you now. “When are you guys planning on coming over to my dorm? Or did you decide to stay over here with Jinnie?”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure when we’d be starting movie night or if we were doing anything beforehand.” You realize you have no idea what time it even is. You were so absorbed in relaxing with Hyunjin that you haven’t bothered to check your phone. “Are we late?” 

“No, we’ve still got a bit of time before everyone’s back, but Felix has started baking and Minho’s gonna order food soon.” Seungmin’s eyes drift to where he can see Hyunjin has started to knead into the nape of your neck. “Do you plan on eating with us?”

“What if I did want to just spend tonight with Jinnie?” You lean back into him with a teasing grin. 

Seungmin’s tongue darts out between his lips. “Then someone might get jealous, but I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to.”

Hyunjin’s arms wrap around your middle and sets his chin on your shoulder. “Oh don’t be jealous, Seungminnie. I’m sure you could convince us to let you stay. Though, I did think we were going to go for movie night?”

The last sentence is directed at you. “Oh we are, I was just curious about what Seungmin would think if I wanted you all to myself tonight. And yes, I’d like to have dinner with everyone.”

“Ah yes, I heard you like to play little games.” You blush at the thought of Minho telling Seungmin about your games that morning, despite knowing you told Hyunjin about them yourself. “How about another game of sorts?”

Hyunjin giggles behind you. You pretend to consider it. “Hmm. Maybe. What kind of game are you thinking?” 

Seungmin gives Hyunjin a look you can’t decipher. “Let’s go with a test of strength. Naturally, it’ll involve our strongest hyung.”

“Um, I’m not sure I can win something like that.” Based on how these men have been able to manhandle you, you can’t imagine you’re stronger than any of them.

Seungmin’s smile reminds you of Minho’s. “We would only be testing his strength of will, don’t worry. Jinnie, if our lovely friend here were to tease Changbin during the movie, how long do you think he could hold onto his principles before throwing them to the wind so he can have those pretty lips wrapped around his cock?”

“Ah, jutdae vs. horny…” Hyunjin muses. “At movie night, though? I don’t know, I feel like he might be able to wait until it’s over.”

“You don’t think we could encourage him to do it then and there?” Seungmin wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you.

You can’t help but think of this as a challenge. Still, despite how things have gone so far, it’s hard to imagine you can get someone horny enough to whip his dick out in front of his friends. “I mean if Hyunjin doesn’t think it’s possible, I agree. Maybe we should leave the games to Minho.”

You know it was the wrong thing to say when you see the look on Seungmin’s face. You share a look with Hyunjin who looks, for lack of a better word, scaroused. Seungmin’s tongue slips out between his lips before the left side of his mouth quirks up. “I think I have a plan.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

When you arrive at the other dorm for movie night, Seungmin looks around the room and pointedly ignores all the open seats to settle himself on Changbin’s lap. 

“Yah, Seungmin-ah, why?” Changbin sounds angry, but you see his smile as he squeezes Seungmin’s sides. “You can sit literally anywhere else.”

As per ‘the plan,’ Hyunjin plops down next to Changbin, pulling you to sit on his lap.  Seungmin wraps his big hand around your lower thigh, urging you to put your legs up on his as he glances back at his hyung. “Don’t you know you’re my favorite chair?”

As expected, Seungmin’s shoved off to Changbin’s lap other side as he rolls his eyes and calls him pabo. Seungmin pulls your legs with him as he sinks down into the empty seat, and Hyunjin gives you a tiny push from behind. With a small ‘oop,’ you find yourself looking into Changbin’s surprised face as you take Seungmin’s spot on his lap. Your giggle isn’t even fake when you wrap your arm around his shoulder. “Minnie’s right. Your lap seems pretty comfy. Mind if I sit here?”

Changbin’s ears immediately start turning red as he takes you in. Before coming over, you’d changed back into your dress so that you could make sure your cleavage was back on display (along with a couple hickies you’ve yet to re-cover at Hyunjin’s insistence), and with the way you’ve been dragged over, your skirt is bunched over your upper thighs, an indecent amount of leg showing as well. The man beneath you recovers his smile quickly, and you feel his arm snake wrap around your back, his hand resting on your hip. 

“As long as you’re comfortable, of course.” He glares over at Seungmin for a second. “I’d much rather be a chair for you than Seungmin-ah’s bony ass.” 

Hyunjin and Felix laugh as Seungmin dawns a faux offended face, hand to his chest. You notice that Jeongin has settled on Hyunjin’s other side, while Jisung and Felix are on the other couch. You catch Minho’s eye where he stands in the doorway. He winks, and you blush, turning your attention back to Changbin. You wiggle a little and lean into him. “Well, I would hope my ass feels better than his; I do enough squats for it.”

Seungmin was right again, Changbin’s smile brightens a touch and his other arm comes to rest across your lap. He glances down and seems to consider the fact that it’s all skin on skin with the skirt of your dress pushed back like that. Ever the gentleman, he grabs the hem and slides it down before resettling his arm on it. “You like to work out? What’s your usual routine? Have you been able to keep up with it since you got to Korea?”

You laugh and answer his questions, asking about his routine as well. Every now and then you shift just a little bit, hoping to rile him just a little bit, if you can. Soon drinks and snacks are brought out to the coffee table, Minho comes to settle in, and finally Chan arrives back from the studio. Other than the occasional glance from Minho, no one seems to think anything of your chosen seat. As you chat, Seungmin begins massaging your calves, moving your legs more than necessary at times, forcing Changbin to shift so that his hand rests just on the thigh closest to him. His thumb gently strokes back and forth, and his eyes dip down to look at the hickies painting your cleavage occasionally.

“So did you have fun playing games with Chan and Minho this morning?” 

You bite your lip in a grin. “I did. I didn’t realize they’d be so competitive when I first got there, but I definitely won in the end.”

Changbin laughs. “I’m sure they were excited; after last night we thought Minnie and Jinne might try to keep you for themselves.”

“As much fun as they are,” you cup his face, “I wouldn’t want to miss out on what the rest of you have to offer.”

He follows the gentle guidance of your hand and brings his lips to yours. It’s gentle at first, but when you run your tongue along his lip, he deepens the kiss and tangles his tongue with yours as the hands on your hip and thigh tighten their grip. He pulls back and whispers, “Maybe you can see what I have to offer after the movie?”

“I’d like that a lot,” you toy with the chain around his neck. “But I’m not sure I’ll want to wait until the movie’s over. Think you might give me a taste while we’re watching?”

His ears start to pink up again. “While we’re watching? Out here?”

“Naughty, I know.” You wink at him. “We all agreed that public acts are okay, right? Or did you change your mind?”

“No, I didn’t.” He trails off, looking around the room. Seungmin, who’s been quietly observing your conversation, makes a kissy face at Changbin when his eyes land on him. “I’m just not sure I’ll be able to get into it enough in front of these idiots.”

You laugh. “I can understand that. Does that mean I’m not allowed to try to get you there?”

He turns that gorgeous smile on you. “I don’t think it will happen, but you’re welcome to try.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

When the movie starts, Seungmin and Hyunjin suddenly realize they have a lot to talk to each other about, but of course they have to stay quiet so as not to disturb others. This means that Hyunjin’s leaning into your back, pushing your chest closer to Changbin, whose eyes track the movement each time. On the other side, Seungmin is leaning forward, letting his hand slide up the outside of your thigh, pushing your skirt back up, bit by bit. After the third time, the hand on your thigh starts kneading the skin that’s been revealed again, rather than adjusting your dress again. 

The next time Hyunjin leans over, it’s to talk to you instead. “Oh, I’m sorry, babe. I know I keep bumping you. Maybe it’d be more comfortable if you turn a bit.”

“Or you and Seungmin-ah can knock it off and watch the movie.” Changbin answers for you. 

You give Hyunjin a wink and plant a kiss on Changbin’s cheek. “That’s ok, Binnie. I don’t mind.” You turn to face forward, leaning your back against his chest and pulling his arms tight around you. 

“Thanks, baby.” Hyunjin leans in to kiss along your jaw and up to nibble on your earlobe. He makes sure to brush against Changbin’s arm when he brings a hand up to caress your breast. At the same time, you feel Seungmin’s hand slide between your legs; you arch your back as you roll your hips and let out a soft sigh into Changbin’s ear. His arms tighten around you briefly. Seungmin continues circling two fingers over your panties while Hyunjin’s hand drops down to your knee, pulling your leg so that it rests on the outside of Changbin’s, opening you up a bit more. 

The two of them whisper in front of you again, and you use their proximity as an excuse to press your back against Changbin’s impressive chest even more, pushing your chest out with a deep breath. Then Hyunjin’s pulling the strap of your dress down, bearing your breast so that Seungmin can suck your nipple into his mouth. This time when you roll your hips, happily noticing a hardness forming beneath you, you let out a moan. You smile at the sharp intake of breath behind you. 

Hyunjin shushes you. “You don’t wanna be too loud, Changbinnie is trying to watch the movie. 

Seungmin chooses that moment to slide your panties aside and slide two fingers into you. You gasp and moan again. He smirks as he brings his face up to whisper, “I’m not sure she’s gonna be able to keep her volume down. Maybe she needs something in her mouth to keep her quiet.”

You reach back between your bodies to grip Changbin’s cock. He lets out a soft curse. “I think that’s a good idea, Min.” You nuzzle your nose into Changbin’s cheek and pull one of his hands up to your breast. He hesitates for just a second before squeezing and pulling at your nipple. “Would you be able to help me with that, Changbinnie?”

“Right here?” His tone sounds unsure, but his body betrays him. “Maybe we should just watch the movie for now? Or we could go back over to my dorm?”

You stroke him through his shorts and let out another moan as Seungmin continues to work his magic. “Oh, but I don’t want to take you away from the group, and I don’t want to wait. Don’t you think you can help me right here?”

This time it’s Hyunjin whispering in your ear. “I think you need to take the next step to get him.” With a couple fingers on your chin, he turns your face to his for a brief but passionate kiss. “Get down on your knees.”

You turn back to kiss Changbin’s neck, pulling away giving a tiny bite. Following Hyunjin’s advice, you move forward, causing Seungmin to pull away. Then you’re on your knees in front of Changbin, running your hands up and down his thighs. You give him the best doe eyes you can manage and bite your lip. You mouth ‘please’ at him before palming his bulge. You watch as Hyunjin whispers in his ear. Finally, he nods and lifts his hips to help you to pull his shorts down enough to free him. Like the rest of him, Changbin’s cock is deliciously thick and nearly as long as Seungmin’s.

Considering his uncertainty in doing this in the living room with everyone, you decide against teasing him. You suck at the head for a second before bobbing up and down, taking as much of him down as you can. You wrap a hand around his base and alternate between bobbing and sucking, running your tongue along the underside of his cock and swirling it around his tip. 

His eyes are boring into yours as you take him all the way down to the base. He practically growls as he tries to hold in a groan. Satisfied, you give him a smile and start to give little kitten licks, finally teasing him a bit. After a couple minutes of torture (in his eyes), you start to bob lazily. Changbin threads his fingers through your hair, holding on but not doing much to guide you. 

You pop off then lick up his length and bat your eyes up at him. You brace yourself on his muscular thighs as you push up to bring your face back up to his. “For some reason I feel like you’re holding back, Binnie.”

You see the fire light in his eyes as he crashes his lips to yours. You pull back with a smile and sink back down to swirl your tongue around his head. As soon as your mouth closes over it, his hand is back in your hair; this time, he pushes your head down. You work with renewed vigor, and soon, both his hands are in your hair and Changbin is thrusting up into your mouth, all reservations gone. It’s all you can do to relax your throat and just let him use you.

He stays remarkably quiet as he fucks your face, but soon enough his breathing his loud enough that you’re sure everyone in the room is aware of what’s happening on your couch. After a few minutes, he lets out a delicious groan as he releases down your throat. You suck until his pulsing stops and his grip on your hair slackens. 

You pull off and crawl back into his lap, straddling him this time. When you whisper ‘thank you,’ Changbin chuckles softly. “I should be the one thanking you.”

You give him a bright smile and a kiss. “Maybe, but I did have fun; that’s worth a thank you. Especially since I wasn’t sure you’d let me.”

“I’m glad I did.” His hands cup your face; he kisses you long and deep. “I feel like I really should return the favor now.”

You smile against his lips. “How about after the movie?” One more peck and you turn around again to watch the rest of the film, making a point not to look at anyone else in the room. 

Seungmin and Hyunjin each lay a hand on your thigh, their pinkies linking together. After a moment, Seungmin leans over to whisper ‘you’re welcome, hyung’ in Changbin’s ear. The older man scoffs and squeezes you to him just a little tighter. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

Almost as soon as the credits roll, Changbin scoops your legs up and stands with you in his arms. You let out a surprised giggle and wrap your arms around his neck. He starts making his way for the door, and you hear several voices at once - the loudest, Minho, calls out, “Changbinnie-yah where’s the fire?”

“Yeah, don’t you wanna spend some more time out here with all of us?” Hyunjin laughs.

You hear rapidly approaching footsteps and look over Changbin’s shoulder in time to see Felix come around in front of you.  “Let me get the door for you, hyung. Unless you want to use my room?” Eyebrows raised and wide eyes, he smiles seductively.

You look eagerly at Changbin. The right side of his mouth turns up in a smirk. “Wanna play with Lixie, jagi?”

You nod, Felix does an adorable little clap of his hands, and you’re on your way back towards the bedrooms. Once inside Felix’s room, Changbin sets you on the bed and crashes his lips to yours. Before you can pull him all the way onto the bed with you, he’s pulling back and straightening up. 

Felix hops into the bed with you, hand trailing up your side. Every time he hits you with that deep voice you melt, and having him purr into your ear while laying in bed with him kicks it up a notch. “You look beautiful tonight. And seeing you with Binnie was… so hot.” 

Heat rises on your cheeks. Felix doesn’t give you the chance to respond, though. He gives you a couple pecks before licking a stripe up your neck and giving you a little nibble. 

“Lix.” Your gaze turns back to Changbin who has stripped his shirt off. All you can think about is how much you want to bite his pecs; you nearly miss his next words. His tone, however, has you focused and clenching your thighs together. “Undress her, now. I want to see all of her.”

Felix moves immediately, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your head. Your bra is still sitting over in Chan’s room, so you’re left in just your panties. He presses a kiss to your hip as he tucks his fingers into the waistband and pulls them off. Before tossing them on the ground, Felix brings them up to his face and smells them. He smiles up at Changbin brightly. “They’re so wet, hyung. Can I taste her?”

“Yeah, Lixie, make her feel good.” He turns his hungry gaze back to yours. “Open up for him, baby.”

You spread your legs wide, bent at the knee. Felix coos and spreads your lips with his fingers. You’ve never felt so exposed and you’re exhilarated when you take in the looks on both of their faces. If you thought Changbin looked hungry before, he looks ravenous now. 

In the next moment, Felix is dragging the flat of his tongue through your folds. He flicks over your clit a few times before plunging into your center. Felix feasts, his long tongue exploring every bit of you, and Changbin finally approaches you on the bed again. He kisses you briefly, his hands begin kneading your breasts. He pushes them together, bringing his mouth down to kiss and lick at each nipple in turn. You moan, one of your hands finds the nape of his neck while you thread the fingers of the other through Felix’s hair. 

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” Changbin meets your eyes again before interlacing his fingers with yours in Felix’s hair and pulling his head up so that he’ll refocus on your clit. His groan reverberates up through you, pleasure shooting up to where Changbin is pinching your nipple. “We’re going to treat you so well, right Lixie?”

Another hum from Felix sends another wave through you. Changbin’s head goes down to add a hickey to the collection on your chest, and you arch into his touch. Both men’s mouths and hands are ever moving, winding you up and up. When Felix slides a couple fingers in and starts sucking, you’re almost there, gasping and mewling. Before you can get there, Changbin reaches back to pull Felix’s head up again; this time you whimper at the loss of contact. He tugs at his hair again, and Felix is slipping his fingers out and crawling up your body, mouth and chin glistening. He kisses you deeply, you can taste yourself on his lips.

Going from so much to so little has you feeling desperate. When Felix moves from your mouth to your neck, you can’t help but whine. “Binnie, please.”

“Tell me what you need, jagi.” Changbin takes your hand and drags it down his body. 

You let it drift the rest of the way down to cup his bulge. At the same time, you can feel Felix hard against your hip. You bite your lip and pump him through his pants while you consider. You don’t know what it is about these men, but you want to try something you’ve only done with toys so far.

 “You. Both of you.”

Changbin hisses at the contact. “Both of us? We can do that. But I think I need you to spell it out for me to make sure we’re on the same page.” 

You meet his eyes. “I think we are. I want to feel both of you inside me. Together. Please?”

His tone takes on that authoritative air again. “Lix. Strip and lay on your back.”

Felix is so obedient. In seconds, he’s naked and on the bed beside you, leaning over to kiss your shoulder. You turn to lightly run your fingers over his pretty cock. How is every inch of this man’s body so beautiful?

Changbin seems to read your mind as he slips out of his pants. “Isn’t he pretty like that? Why don’t you show him how good you are with your tongue now?”

You don’t have to be told twice. You’re up and on your knees nearly as fast as Felix undressed. You lick up his length, swirling your tongue around his head before sucking on it, hard. Felix groans out a ‘fuck.’ You make sure to keep your ass up as you start bobbing your head up and down. Changbin takes the opportunity to give you a light smack before sinking three fingers into your center. You moan around the cock in your mouth when he reaches around to rub your clit. He adds a fourth finger, and you choke on Felix’s cock. He works you until you’re panting and pushing back on his fingers, unable to concentrate on doing anything but holding Felix’s dick in your mouth.

“Alright, baby, it’s time to give you what you want.” Changbin pulls you up for another kiss while he shifts your body so you face Felix's feet. He has Felix shift up the bed and prop himself up on a couple pillows while grabbing a bottle of lube from the nightstand. He takes your hand and squirts some in it before putting some in his own hand. “Get Lix ready for you.”

You coat Felix’s length while Changbin does the same to his own. At Changbin’s urging, you shift to a squat over Felix and sink down. You bounce a couple times before shifting your legs forward and leaning back against Felix’s chest. The man beneath you is running his hands over your body and kissing your shoulder and neck, thrusting up into you. One at a time, Changbin drapes your legs over Felix’s, opening you up wide. He positions himself between your legs and brings his thumb to your clit. “It’s going to be tight. You sure you’re ready?”

“Yes, please, Changbin,” you all but beg.

He brings a hand to Felix’s hip. “Try not to move for now, Lix.” 

Felix’s ‘yes sir’ rumbles through his chest into your back. Changbin starts by working a couple fingers in; Felix squirms beneath you, and you’re both breathing heavily. Once he’s satisfied, Changbin withdraws his hand and positions himself at your entrance. He slowly works himself inside. You feel incredibly full. Felix is murmuring behind you, but all you can focus on is the sensation. And then he starts to move.

You feel Felix’s teeth latch onto your shoulder as he starts to move as well. Changbin is pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck as he thrusts slowly and deliberately. It’s almost overwhelming. You’re squeezing Felix’s hand in yours, the nails of your other hand digging into Changbin’s back. There’s no way the cacophony of your joining isn’t reaching the rest of the apartment, and you can’t help but feel even more turned on knowing that whoever remained after the movie can hear just how amazing they’re making you feel. 

Your body is tensing; you’re so close. Felix is there with you, the hand on your hip is likely leaving bruises. He’s gasping. “Fu-fuck, Bin. Can.. can I.. c-?”

“Fuck, yes,” Changbin growls. “Good boy, Lixie. Come for me.”

Between Felix’s increased fervor and Changbin’s words, you’re pushed right over the edge. Felix comes with you, and Changbin increases his pace, trying to join you. Your orgasm hits you so hard that tears are streaming down your face; you’re seconds from just going limp when Changbin comes with a curse. 

The three of you lay there for a couple minutes before anyone has the strength to move. Changbin pulls out and grabs the tissues and wet wipes before lifting you off of Felix, who looks completely blissed out. Changbin cleans you both up and brings you a water bottle. The three of you cuddle for a while, chatting and kissing. Changbin periodically massages your arms, legs, and backs. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

Eventually, there’s a knock at the door. You hear Chan’s voice through the door. “I don’t want to interrupt, but it looks like your mom is calling.”

He’s clearly talking to you. You crawl over Felix and grab your dress off the floor on your way to the door. “I’m coming!” You hold the dress to your chest, not actually covering much as you open the door and take your phone. “Thanks, Channie.”

Chan is blushing immediately as if he didn’t have you naked and under him this morning. As you answer, you notice the time and groan. It’s later than you realized. Chan stays by your side while you talk, probably noticing that you’re not the most steady on your feet. Your mom is checking when you’re gonna be home since you’ve been out all day. You don’t want to overstay your welcome, but with the three men listening to your side of the conversation, you don’t want to say anything definitive. Ultimately, you tell her that you wanna stick around for a while longer, but you’ll text her with an update in a bit.

Chan turns back to face you and gestures back to the living room where you can hear the tv. “I know you’ve already had… quite a day, but we’ve decided to turn this into a marathon, if you wanna stay for a while.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “You could even spend the night, if you get too tired to head home.”

You smirk at him. “Inviting me to stay the night already? Guess you didn’t get enough this morning.”

He backtracks immediately, looking embarrassed. “I mean, you could take one of our beds, I wouldn’t expect you to –” 

You cut him off with a laugh. “I’m just kidding Chan. I really appreciate the offer. How about we do another movie, and I’ll think about it?” You don’t really need to think about it. Your time in Korea is limited, and you want to get as much of these men as you can get. You pull your dress on and call back into the room, “do you guys wanna watch another movie?”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

Changbin x Reader

"Are you going to keep talking about him, or do you want this dick?" Changbin asks you.

His bluntness was the thing that you'd always liked about him. Sure, he'd listen to you go on and on about how your current boyfriend wasn't shit. But, you both knew you weren't really here to complain about Channie.

You're here to feel better. Well, at least your pussy would feel better even though your heart probably won't after you leave. But, what difference does it make? You were on your 5th break from Channie because you found incriminating DMs.

"Binnie, you said I could vent about him."

"Yeah, I did. But, I think you just need to cum, and you'll forget all about whatever you did."

"I definitely do," You reply. You stand up from his couch and go into his bedroom. You remove your hoodie and toss it onto his couch that is adjacent to his bed.

His mood lamp is already on, and the room is a pretty lavender hue. You step out of your leggings, and you stand near his perfectly clean dresser. You notice a picture you haven't seen in a while. It's just you and him with his arms wrapped around your waist.

It was at Hongjoong's mixtape release party a few years ago when you were single and just co-workers with Chan and Changbin.

For some reason, this photo brings up some weird feelings for you. That night was the first time you hooked up with Changbin.

You always wonder what things would have been like if you had dated Changbin instead of Bangchan. Maybe, you wouldn't cry as much. Or, maybe you would.

But the strange thing is you haven't known Binnie to be in any relationships since you've met him.

Changbin's footsteps are in an earshot of you, and you feel his fingertips smooth around your waist. He gently kisses you on the side of your neck.

"You remember that night?" Changbin asks you.

"Yea, Hongjoong's mixtape party."

"Oh, that's all you remember?"

"Uh, I sucked your dick in the bathroom."

"And I took you home and fucked you for like two days straight."

Your body shudders just from hearing him saying that. Those two days were the best days of your life. It's funny how you two were able to go to work the following day as if nothing happened.

Changbin pulls you in tighter against his bare stomach and boxers. He laps at the side of your neck, and juicy moans escape from your mouth.

"Yeah, I didn't want to leave," you moan out.

"Well, maybe this time you won't. Can I touch you?"

"Yes."

Changbin rubs his hand over your pussy outside of your underwear, and already you are ready for him.

"I love how easily you react to me, baby."

You love hearing him call you baby. There is something about how sweet this man can be with you. You often wonder if he is this way with other people. You would hate to imagine other people getting this wet for him.

Changbin runs his hand down your slit and then back up. He quicks, finds your clit, and massages it through your panties. He lifts your chin up.

"Look at yourself.. so beautiful. Too beautiful to be crying over Chris. Right?"

You stare at yourself half nude with Changbin wrapped around your body. His muscles are perfect. You love the way his body looks against yours. You love your curves and how beautiful you look. He's right. You shouldn't be crying over him.

You are so beautiful, just like he told you.

"Yes."

"No, say it in the mirror, baby. Say it so I can hear it."

"I am beautiful," you confidently say as you stare into the mirror.

Changbin slides his hand inside your panties and slips down into your wetness to coat his finger. He massages your clit and kisses on your cheek.

"Such a good girl. I love it when you affirm yourself."

This man has your mind dizzy already. The sensation of him playing with your clit feels too good, almost as good as when you do it. You like that you don't have to teach him how to touch you. He already knows what you need when you need it.

Changbin continues to work his magic, and his talented fingers dance against your clit, bringing you closer to your first orgasm. It doesn't take much for you to get off when he's involved.

"Please, don't stop," you whine a bit.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I know my girl is close, aren't you, baby." Changbin bites on your neck and the right pressure that isn't too hard, but isn't too gentle.

Your body rides the first wave of your orgasm, and you close your eyes and release. Changbin sticks two fingers inside of you, and you cum on his fingers.

He pulls them out and coats your lips with your own juices. He moves in front of you and picks you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he kisses you to savor the taste of you. You enjoy the way he kisses you, always so passionate.

Changbin tosses you onto the bed and pulls down your panties.

You spread your legs for him, and he plants a kiss on your pussy. Normally, you would want him to eat you out, but the reality is you came for dick. Sure, you came over to vent, but the bottom line is you want to get your back blown out.

"Fuck me.." You whisper just loud enough to catch Changbin's attention. He continues to kiss your pussy, and your back arches just a little.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes, I just want to be fucked good."

"Okay, Y/n."

Changbin is all about pleasing you and making you feel good. There's no doubt in your mind. You watch him slide out of his boxers, and his thick, juicy length flops out. He's already hard, and ready to give you exactly what you came for.

He moves in between your legs, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.

Your eyes connect with his, and he's staring intensely into your eyes like you're the most beautiful woman in the whole world.

He doesn't even have to say it because he's already told you a million times, but the way he looks at you is more than just a lustful stare.

Changbin is captivated by you—more than just your beauty. You notice the glances when you are working together in the studio, but you always avoid them out of respect for Chan. But, tonight, you are a single woman, and you deserve to be adored.

"Binnie, why are you looking at me like that?"

"You know, why."

"No, tell me."

"I like watching you."

"I've noticed."

"You ready?"

"Of course."

Changbin guides himself into you inch by inch until you are full of him. He starts off slow, trying to find his rhythm with you.

You adjust to his size for a moment, trying to gather yourself, and you relax your body as he's giving you a moment to get yourself prepared.

Changbin runs his finger across your bottom lip, and down your throat. He plays with your left nipple, and moves slowly inside of you.

The movement is perfect, and his touch against your skin feels so good. Your bodies mesh together and are the perfect blend.

Your legs grip tighter around his waist as he thrusts into you, and you moan his name.

"Fuck me, harder," you request from him.

Maybe you shouldn't have told him that because he goes faster and a bit more rough with you. He doesn't even have to ask you if you like it because your eyes are already rolling back in your head from the pleasure.

Changbin let goes of your nipple just to instantly find your clit. He works it in perfect circles just the way you crave, and you can feel yourself approaching that second orgasm.

"That's it, baby. Cum on my dick... You're taking me so well." "Mmhmm.." You want to say more, but your mouth doesn't release any words, just moans, and whines because Changbin has taken your body to another level.

"So close, beautiful. Release for me." At that moment, your body reaches its peak, and you cum for him. It's such a beautiful experience to be sent to a whole another dimension thanks to your lover.

After you come back down from your high, Changbin pulls out of you and kisses all over your face.