#wonbin drabbles

wonbin walked through the front door all flushed and grinning, his bags dropping next to his feet. he outstretches his arms to you like he couldn’t wait a second longer to feel you. you barely had time to close the door behind him before he was pulling you into his lips were hot and desperate against yours, hands sliding under your t-shirt and roaming like he’d forgotten what your skin felt like.

“missed you,” he murmured, again and again between his kisses. all the while his hurried footsteps led you backwards into the bedroom. “thought about this every single fucking night.”

you tried to talk first. tried to ask him how the last show went, if he’d eaten yet, even if he was tired. instead, every word dissolved in your mouth apart the second his fingers slid into your shorts. he was trembling against you a little from need.

you looked up at him. you could see how his shirt was scrunched at the neck like he was pulling at it, his hair messy and damp with light sweat, eyes locked on you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“i’m finally here,” he breathed, fingers curling into your waist over your shirt.

“been so long,” he whispered again, forehead pressed to yours. “too long.”

and then he was kissing you again. even deeper, slower, filthier — and it only took a few more seconds for you to fall back onto the freshly washed sheets. his body was heavy over yours, mouth everywhere, hands shaking with the restraint of not just taking you right then and there.

within the next hour, he’s already got you stuffed full of him, one leg hooked over his shoulder, your body pressed deep into the mattress. you were sure he was trying to deeply bury himself inside you.

“missed this pussy so fucking much,” wonbin groans into your neck, voice all hoarse from the last string of orgasms,“you feel how good you squeeze me, baby? it’s like your body missed me too.”

your nails grip and scratch down his back, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. you were already wrecked but wonbin’s not done. not even close. tears brimmed the corners of your eyes from the sheer volume of pleasure you felt.

“so pretty when you cry,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to see the way your expression twisted, lips glossy with spit and slick. “look at you…dumb little thing. can’t even talk to me, huh?”

you whimper when he slows the pace of his hips, not stopping, but now just dragging his cock painfully slow against every swollen, overstimmed inch of you. he’d already made you come twice. he hadn’t even let you down from the second one before pushing back in, and pushing you to where you were now.

“bin— too much, i can’t—”

“yes you can,” he cuts in, soft but still firm. he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb, ever so gently before he grabs your jaw with a tight grip. “you can take it. you’re doing so good, sweetheart. just take me, yeah?”

you nod weakly, or try to at least. your head’s spinning. your body twitches every time his hips roll inside you deep and heavy. he was rocking into you slow enough to make your brain melt but strong enough to have you squirming all the same.

wonbin leans down to your face, licking his way into your mouth like he owns it. then you feel him spit on your tongue and kiss you deeply right after. he groans when you moan into it like you’re already too far gone.

“you don’t need to think, baby,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours. “i got you. just let go. let me fuck you dumb.”

your legs shake even more when he hits that spot again — the one spot that makes your back arch entirely, eyes roll, body tremble, and lips part yet not being able to form any words.

his hands trail down your sides, hips locking you in place when you try to squirm away.

“nuh uh,” he hums, “you said you missed me too, so take it. let me fill you up again. wanna watch it drip out of you after.”

your mouth opens again like you’re gonna protest, but all that comes out this time is a broken whine. your brain’s gone too hazy, the heat pooling in your gut all over again even though you swore you couldn’t come again.

wonbin’s eyes are wild, but soft when he looks down at you. “mmh, that’s it,” he praises, thumb slipping between your lips again. “my pretty little thing. all mine.”

and then he gives it to you harder and faster, no breaks, no room to breathe properly. skin slapping, the slick sound of your pussy making obscene noises each time he thrusts back in, your voice barely even there anymore.

“c’mon, baby. one more,” he growls, leaning down to grab your other leg, swinging it over his shoulder as well, so your thighs fold in tighter. his cock hitting so deep now, you see stars. “make a mess for me. let me ruin you a little more.”

you cry out loudly when your orgasm hits. it was messy, strong, causing tears to freely run down your cheeks, your body twitching like you’re being shocked. and he doesn’t stop. not when your cunt clenches around him, when you sob out his name over and over, and not even when your voice is fades, just a choked out hiccup of sound.

“fuck, you’re so good,” he hisses, grabbing your hips now, holding you down. “pussy’s so fucking good—gonna make me come. gonna fill you up so full, baby, shit—”

he slams into you one last time and groans, low and wrecked, as he spills inside you. hot and thick strings of him, cock still twitching, and you’re trembling under him. your thighs even more slick and soaked and sticky with all of it.

for a second, neither of you move. then wonbin lets himself fall forwards, caging you in with his arms, kissing your pink cheeks as you continue to whimper under him.

“you okay?” he murmurs, all breathless and low. “you still here with me, pretty girl?”

you nod weakly. barely. if he wasn’t watching and staring at you so intently, he wouldn’t have caught it.

he laughs a little, sounding so soft, so sweet after everything. “good. you were so perfect for me, baby...” and he kisses you again like he’s still starving. like he’ll never get enough, even with you utterly ruined beneath him.

the afternoon sun streamed through the window, warm and slow, as Wonbin shifted uncomfortably. he took off his hoodie in silence, as if still unsure, revealing his sleeveless shirt and, unintentionally, some secrets he didn’t expect would catch your attention so much.

it wasn’t the first time you saw Wonbin without a hoodie, but something about that moment made you stop. maybe it was the light. maybe it was the moles.

and you, with that gaze that misses nothing, give him a quick glance but stop when you see those moles. one subtle one on his arm, another near his stomach, which you noticed since his shirt lifted a little.

you can’t help it and softly but surely say: "i really like your moles..."

and that’s when he freezes. he blinks. looks down for a second, then back up at you. "my what...?" "your moles," you repeat, gentler. "there’s something about them… i don’t know, i just think they’re really cute."

and unexpectedly, he blushes. a real blush, deep, starting from his ears and spreading to his cheeks. he lets out a small nervous laugh and scratches the back of his neck. "no one’s ever told me that," he’d say, not really knowing where to look.

you can tell he’s not used to being admired in that kind of intimate, genuine way. because yes, he knows he’s handsome, but for you to notice those personal, quiet details… it throws him completely off.

and then he does the most Wonbin thing you could imagine: he moves closer, slowly, sits near you, and extends his arm. "do you… want to touch them?" he says, not looking directly at you, with the softest, most trembling voice you’ve ever heard from him.

you laugh, gently trace the mole with your fingertips, and he literally shivers a little. "don’t do that… you’re making me nervous," he’d say, half smiling, half wanting to hide behind the cushions.

but he doesn’t move away. Quite the opposite. he lets you keep touching, not saying another word, surrounded by that tender silence that only exists when there’s already so much trust. your fingers keep brushing the mole on his arm. it’s small, almost invisible, but you look at it like it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. and that… breaks him.

wonbin swallows hard. his eyes fixed on your fingers, then on your eyes. he stays quiet for a few seconds, but his cheeks still glow with that soft red that refuses to fade.

"why do you like them so much?" he asks in a low voice, almost a whisper, as if afraid of the answer. you smile and shrug. "because they’re a part of you. and i love everything about you… even the parts you think no one notices."

and him. HIM. he looks at you like you just threw a bucket of tenderness over him. literally. you leave him breathless. he stares with those big, dark eyes, and his lashes tremble just a bit. then, without saying anything, he leans in. slowly. insecure.

and you already know what’s coming, but your heart is racing so fast it feels like it might explode. his plump lips meet yours. soft. warm. shaky at first, then more certain. it’s not a movie kiss or a rushed one. it’s an honest kiss—one of those that says more than a thousand words.

and when he pulls back, just a little, his forehead rests against yours. he closes his eyes for a moment, like he needs to process what just happened. "sorry," he murmurs, "i didn’t know if i should…"

"don’t apologize," you reply, still smiling. your hands reach up to his face and caress his cheeks. he sighs, closing his eyes fully this time. and he leans into you. like your lap is his safe place. and you hug him. and he, with his strong arms, holds you with a gentleness you didn’t know he had.

you stay like that. the room in silence. your breaths meeting in that calm space between you. and he whispers: "i feel so good with you… it scares me." and you just hug him tighter, no need to say anything. because everything’s already been said.

you’re still hugging. your head on his chest. wonbin’s heart beats fast—so fast you can hear it in your ears. and he says nothing, just… slides a hand down your back, slowly, caressing you with the tips of his fingers. like he’s memorizing you.

"do you mind if i get closer?" he asks with that deep, soft voice, like he doesn’t want to break the moment. you shake your head, and he gently shifts to be on top of you, bracing himself on one arm, not crushing you but so close you can count his lashes. his gaze locks with yours. so intense. so deep. so yours.

he strokes your cheek, then slowly moves down your neck, tracing invisible lines that steal your breath. and his lips… brush against yours again, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. he just looks at you. like he’s waiting for permission. and you give it without words. you just close your eyes, lean in, and he understands.

the kiss this time is different. slower. More intimate. there’s no rush. just restrained desire, tenderness, and nerves tangled like his fingers with yours.

your hands wrap around him, and his back is warm, strong… but when your fingers brush that mole on his stomach, his body trembles slightly. he looks at you. bites his lip. "stop doing that…" he murmurs, with a smile half crooked, half defeated— "or i’m gonna lose control…"

but you don’t stop. and he lets out a soft laugh, like he can’t believe you.

and then the kiss deepens. hands moving up, down, exploring gently. lips on your neck, your collarbone. his breath growing more ragged against your skin.

until again, he pauses. rests his forehead on your shoulder, barely trembling. "if we keep going… i won’t want to stop." and his voice… sounds like a plea. like a confession.

"then don’t stop," you whisper.

but he hugs you tighter. covers you with his body, with his warmth, and murmurs: "i want to do this right. i want you to remember me as someone who cared for you, not someone who got carried away. i want you to give me your time. as much as you’re willing to give."

sungchan was a perfectionist, meaning that every detail of every aspect of his very sad life had to go the exact way he thought was right. you pitied him, and his necessity to always make things exactly how he envisioned the right way for them to be, but you also hated him for it, for letting that part of himself that he should be aware he needed to work on affect your relationship. 

it was awful, any date that didn’t go according to plan, any present that he gave you that didn’t earn the reaction he wanted, anything and everything a reason for him to get angry, and blame you for “destroying” his perfect idea. you despised him for it, that being his main flaw — and you loved wonbin for being the complete opposite.

wonbin never made you feel blamed for anything, always being logical, saying that if things didn’t happen how you had planned, than it was for the better, a soft smile on his lips as he reassured you. he was sweet, as sweet as sungchan was when he wasn’t pissed off because of his perfectionist tendencies, and that was what attracted you to him, the fact that he was just like sungchan, except for the ugly parts.

they were eerily similar. they were both loving, doting boyfriends, both so caring and charming it was impossible for you not to fall for them, always touching you so sweetly, giving you the gentlest kisses and making you feel like heaven had fallen upon you — one single flaw the thing that differentiated them.

sometimes you wondered if that had been the whole reason you had fallen for wonbin in the first place, that question impossible to not arise taking into account the circumstances, making you ask yourself if you loved him because he was basically sungchan 2.0, the improved version of the original. you tried to stray away from such thoughts, sungchan and wonbin are nothing alike!, you’d think to yourself, trying to convince yourself of something you yourself didn't even believe.

it was the small things, sungchan used to bring you flowers on the last friday of every month, a way to commemorate more time spent together, he’d explain. wonbin did something weirdly similar, bringing you your favorite snack and meal at the moment whenever the 7th of the month you were in hit, symbolizing the day you started dating. and there were more similarities.

sungchan always gave you forehead kisses when you met up, for wonbin it was cheek kisses. sungchan knew your order in every place you frequented recurrently by heart, wonbin was quick to pick up that habit too. sungchan liked making little surprises for you here and there, wonbin would surprise you with random gifts sometimes. when you walked in public, sungchan always had to have his arm hugging your shoulders, meanwhile wonbin wouldn’t walk until your fingers were laced with his — and the list went on.

you tried to convince yourself you didn’t love wonbin just because he reminded you of sungchan, you really did, but it was damn near impossible, sungchan’s perfectionism the only thing that seemed to be truly different about them, wonbin not nearly as up-tight about things as your ex. wonbin never made you cry because it suddenly rained on the day you were supposed to have a picnic at the beach, finding a way to somehow blame you for the constant water drops covering the entire city’s ground. instead he’d smile, saying the weather was perfect for an indoor picnic with you two wrapped on a blanket while watching a movie and sharing your favorite snacks. wonbin also never made you leave his apartment in tears because you didn’t pay full attention to what he was saying and he had to repeat himself, that sort of thing reserved for sungchan, who’d get frustrated over how you didn’t care about a word he said like you were supposed to since he always listened to you attentively. that list also kept going on and on, making you try to, yet again, force yourself to believe that you didn’t love wonbin because he reminded you of sungchan, but because he was better than him. maybe not exactly an opposite, but different enough.

maybe they had similar habits, maybe they even touched you the same way, but they were still different enough.

sungchan loved eating you out, saying he loved how you twisted in pleasure for him. wonbin also loved lapping at your pussy, but because he loved how you tasted, how your clit twitched against his tongue in pleasure. sungchan loved the little whine and how you’d automatically bite your lip right after whenever he first pushed his fat cock into you, saying your so blatant bliss hypnotized him — and wonbin loved it too, but because of how perfectly you wrapped around his girth, as if your pussy was made for him. sungchan’s favorite position was having you laying down while he hovered over you, his torso almost glued to yours, adoring how he could so easily reach down and whisper filthy things in your ear while keeping his pace. wonbin on the other hand loved missionary but because he thought it was more intimate, because he could lock eyes with you, feel almost every inch of your body pressed against his as he whispered on your ear how much he loved you — every time his big cock pressed against your plush walls and he leaned down to say something, a part of you that you deeply hated immediately delivering flashbacks of sungchan doing almost the exact same thing. you hated it, but then pleasure would overtake you and thoughts of sungchan would fade to the back of your mind. 

even as you laid in bed afterwards, both breathless and drunk on pleasure, they both held you similarly, close to them, almost as if they were scared you’d slip away. maybe sungchan truly had been afraid you would slip away from his hands, your break up completely shattering his perfect future — something he made very clear when you left him — and maybe wonbin was also afraid you would slip away, but because he loved you, and he didn’t wanna lose the person he adore so much and so openly