#xiao dejun

haechan spots you hunched over the laptop, hair tied up, tank top clinging to your skin. he drops his own work and slides behind you, arms wrapping tight around your waist. you whine, reaching for the laptop. "deadline's in an hour," you protest, but he buries his face in your neck instead.

his lips press warm and slow against the side of your neck, dragging upward in a trail of open-mouthed kisses. each press lingers, sucking gently on the tender skin just below your ear, pulling soft sounds from your throat. he moves lower, tongue flicking out to taste before sealing his mouth over the spot, suckling with steady pressure that leaves heat blooming across your skin. another kiss lands higher, teeth grazing lightly as he draws the flesh between his lips again, moaning softly into you.

his hands slide under your tank top, roaming over your ribs and stomach while he keeps his mouth locked on your neck, alternating between long sucks and quick, wet kisses that make your head tip back.

doyoung steps through the door after his long military leave, eyes dark with need as they lock onto you. he crosses the room and pulls you flush against him, mouth already seeking your neck. his lips part over your skin, sucking slow and deliberate, leaving faint red marks that bloom under each press. soft, low moans vibrate from his throat as he nibbles along the curve, teeth grazing before his tongue soothes the spot.

his breath comes heavier against your neck, warm and shaky. each suck draws another quiet groan from him, the sound thick with relief and hunger. he tilts his head, dragging his mouth higher, then lower again, alternating between gentle bites and wet, lingering pulls that make his lashes flutter shut.

he captures your lips next, nibbling at the lower one before sliding his tongue inside for a slow, deep kiss. one hand cradles your cheek, thumb stroking your skin, while the other slips under your top to glide over your bare back, fingers spreading wide to feel every inch. a muffled moan escapes him into the kiss as he lifts you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter.

his knee nudges between your thighs, parting them wider. the firm pressure presses right against your covered core, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. your underwear grows slick, the damp fabric clinging as his knee keeps its steady rhythm. you whine, hips twitching, torn between wanting the barrier gone and never wanting that grinding pressure to stop. doyoung watches your face closely, pupils blown, lips parted around another soft moan while his knee continues its torturous circles, soaking the thin cotton even more.

you catch jeno leaning back on the couch, legs spread wide in that easy manspread that always draws your eyes lower. his forearms rest on his thighs, veins thick and raised along the backs of his hands, running up the length of his arms like they’re carved there. each flex of his fingers makes the lines shift, and you can’t stop staring at how they stand out under his skin. your gaze lingers on the way his veins pulse faintly with every small movement, the sight making heat pool low in your belly.

he shifts slightly, shirt riding up just enough to expose the sharp cut of his v-line. the same prominent veins trail down from his hips, disappearing beneath his waistband, and the sight pulls a quiet breath from you. you wonder how far they go, how they might look wrapping around something thicker, harder. the thought of his cock being just as veiny makes your thighs press together.

jeno notices your stare, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he stays relaxed in that wide-legged position, letting you take it all in.

one afternoon, you and johnny were strolling through the park, hand in hand. after walking for what felt like forever, you quietly mumbled, "i'm tired…" your voice was so soft that johnny didn't hear it. when you suddenly stopped walking, he turned around and leaned down to your eye level. "huh? what's wrong, love?" he asked gently. you huffed, "i'm tired~." he smiled apologetically, tilting his head. "why didn't you say so sooner?" you rolled your eyes with a grin. "maybe because you couldn't hear me, you godzilla." johnny placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "godzilla? that's harsh." the two of you ended up laughing before he led you over to a nearby bench, happily sitting beside you while your fingers stayed intertwined.

chenle kept his cock buried deep, thrusting in hard and fast, his hips snapping forward with each brutal stroke that forced your walls to stretch around him. his eyes stayed locked on yours, brows drawn tight in concentration as he groaned low in his throat. sweat slid down his forehead and dripped onto your skin while he pounded into you without mercy.

"oh yeah? you like that?" he growled, a cocky smirk spreading across his face as your loud moans filled the room. your reactions only made him thrust harder, his ego swelling with every desperate sound you made.

then the phone rang. chenle glanced sideways without slowing his pace, one hand reaching out to grab the device while his cock stayed buried inside you. he tapped accept, voice steady as he spoke into the receiver. "喂？咋啦?" (what? what's wrong) the caller answered, and chenle replied curtly, "我正忙着呢，别烦我。" (i'm busy, don't bother me.) he ended the call with a sharp tap and tossed the phone aside.

the foreign words rolled off his tongue so casually while he stayed deep inside you, and the mystery of what he said sent a fresh rush of wetness between your legs. heat pooled hotter in your stomach, your body clenching tighter around him as the interruption somehow made everything feel even more intense.

what starts as raised voices quickly turns into both of you trying to explain yourselves at the same time, until the room falls into a heavy silence. tears are already streaming down both of your faces. jisung lowers his head, sniffling quietly before whispering, "i'm sorry…" his voice is shaky as he gently cups your face and rests his forehead against yours.

without hesitation, you cradle his cheeks, carefully wiping away both the fresh tears and the ones that had already dried. "i won't do it again…" he chokes out. "please… let's not fight ever again." his breathing becomes uneven as another wave of tears spills over.

he breaks down completely, his quiet sobs filling the room. you immediately pull him into your arms, slowly rubbing comforting circles across his back. burying his face into your neck, he clings to you tightly, his tears dampening your shoulder as you softly reassure him that the two of you will work through things together, your gaze lingers on the way how desperate he was, the submission he has for you, the sight making heat pool low in your belly.

xiaojun is unbelievably patient, especially when it comes to you. after classes, he'd sit with you in the library, helping you through math one question at a time. no matter how clearly he explained it, you still found yourself staring at the page in confusion. with every problem, another sigh escaped your lips. a lump slowly formed in your throat, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying.

xiaojun noticed immediately. he quietly turned toward you and said, "show me where you got lost." his voice was calm but firm. "and if none of it makes sense, we'll start over." your eyes widened as you hurriedly waved your hands. "n-no... i understand." he wasn't convinced. leaning in slightly, he held your gaze. "really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, patiently waiting for the truth. you tried to maintain eye contact, but you couldn't. your shoulders slumped as tears gathered in your eyes. "...i'm sorry," you whispered. "i'm just... really stupid. i'm trying so hard, but it's so complicated." your voice cracked near the end.

xiaojun stayed silent instead of looking back at the notebook, his eyes remained on you. his gaze moved slowly across your face, lingering on every little expression as if he were trying to understand what you were feeling without you having to say another word. he noticed the way you nervously bit your lip, the slight tremble in your lashes as you fought back your tears, and how your eyebrows pinched together whenever you thought you had disappointed him.

even the tiny quiver in your breathing didn't escape him. his eyes softened with every passing second, not with pity, but with quiet concern. the corners of his lips curved into the faintest smile, warm enough to reassure you without a single word. he wasn't staring because he was judging you. he was simply taking you in, hoping that if he looked at you long enough, you'd realize he wasn't frustrated with you at all. in that moment, the math problems scattered across the table faded into the background. the only thing holding his attention was you.

jungwoo was someone you always ran into on your walk home. every day, you'd take the same shortcut; a narrow, damp alley where the streetlights flickered and the walls were stained. hardly anyone used it.

yet, without fail, jungwoo would be there, leaning against the wall with a cigarette between his fingers, quietly watching the world pass by. the two of you never really talked much, just exchanged a small wave whenever your paths crossed. but one evening, you walked through the alley with your shoulders slumped, letting out one sigh after another.

jungwoo noticed immediately. he lifted a hand in greeting. "hey." you returned a lazy wave. he took one last drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke into the cool evening air. "mood's off today, mhm?" he asked, his voice low and calm. you simply nodded. as the silence settled between you, your eyes drifted to him.

he lifted the cigarette between two fingers and brought it to his lips with practiced ease. the ember at the tip glowed a dull orange as he took a slow drag before lowering his hand again. for a brief moment, he held the smoke, his jaw tightening ever so slightly, the muscles along his neck shifting beneath his skin. then he exhaled through parted lips.

the gray smoke drifting lazily into the cool evening air before dissolving into the darkness. his shoulders stayed relaxed, one foot resting against the wall as he absentmindedly tapped the ash onto the cracked pavement, his eyes never quite leaving you.

★ masterlist

your screen flashed: message sent.

then as if the universe wanted you dead. before you could even delete it. not even a second has passed — message seen.

you froze. stared. considered throwing your phone out the window, changing your name, moving to another country, and taking up a quiet life as a farmer in the mountains.

y/n: PRETEND YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT.

xiaojun: best birthday gift ever 😂😂

he was laughing. he was laughing. you felt your soul leave your body.

y/n: it was an accident!!!

xiaojun: sure 😉

xiaojun: and i accidentally opened it 3 more times

xiaojun: i also accidentally zoomed in

you gripped your pillow like it was a stress ball.

y/n: DELETE IT

xiaojun: okay 👍

xiaojun: but it’s burned into my eyes so idk how that would help

y/n: i’m blocking you. you’re never gonna see me again.

xiaojun: you can’t. we’re literally co-hosting tomorrow.

y/n: shut up

y/n: here’s your actual birthday message

you made sure to send the picture of the beagle this time. triple-checking. fingers a little shaky.

xiaojun: cute!! thank you, y/n ☺️

xiaojun: but i think i liked the first one better

y/n: go to sleep, pervert

xiaojun: sweet dreams 😇

you flung your phone onto the bed, laying face down, muffling your screams into your pillow, legs kicking like you were trying to physically expel the embarrassment from your body. you were going to have to go into work tomorrow and look him in the eye — the same eyes that had definitely looked at your nipples in 4k.

the next day

you walked into the broadcast venue with your head held high, armed with denial and strong coffee. you were a professional. this was just another day hosting the show. except…it wasn’t.

because xiaojun was already there, leaning against the dressing room doorway, grinning like the devil himself.

“morning,” he teased, eyes flicking once, just once, down to your chest before meeting your gaze again.

you narrowed your eyes, “eyes up here, birthday boy.”

he smirked, “how can you expect me not to look?”

your cheeks burned but you refused to give him the satisfaction.

you breezed past him, muttering, “i’m never greeting you a happy birthday again.”

on stage, it got worse. while the cameras rolled and the lights blazed down, you were doing your job — announcing the groups, reading cue cards, smiling like you hadn’t flashed your co-host the night before. but you felt it. every time you turned your head, xiaojun was already looking. not subtly. not innocently. like he was remembering every single pixel of that photo.

during a break, you hissed under your breath, “stop staring at my chest.”

he leaned in, close enough for you to smell his cologne, “i’m just…appreciating my birthday gift.”

you wanted to punch him. and maybe…just a little…you wanted to see how far you could push him.

by the next segment, you’d made your decision. if he wanted to play this game, you were going to play it on your terms.

the stage lights dimmed for the next performance, a longer comeback stage that means you had a few minutes off-camera. the crowd roared, the bass trumped through the floor, you grabbed xiaojun’s wrist. he barely had time to react before you yanked him off the wings, slipping into one of the small, empty rooms backstage.

the door clicked shut behind you, “you’ve been eye-fucking me all day,” you said evenly, stepping into his space, “so tell me, what do you want, birthday boy?”

for a second, he just stared at you, wide-eyed, mouth parted like he wasn’t sure if this was a dream or a setup.

“you have no idea what that photo did to me,” he blurted, his voice almost desperate, “i couldn’t sleep, every time i closed my eyes i just saw you there, laying down on your bed, perfect tits ready to be—,” he cut himself off with a cough, swallowing hard, “i’ve been dying all day.”

“you got five seconds to tell me exactly what you want,” you warned, already turning like you might leave, “or i’m walking out.”

his eyes went wide, panic flashing across his face, “let me suck on your tits,” he said quickly, almost pleading now.

you arched a brow, trying to hide your blush. fuck it. before both of you could overthink, you pushed him back onto the small leather seat. he let out a low groan as you swung a leg over to straddle him, knees bracketing his thighs, the hem of your skirt riding dangerously high.

then you reached up, tugging your shirt down. your bra followed, straps slipping off your shoulders until your breasts were completely bare – flushed from adrenaline, nipples already stiff under his gaze.

“holy fuck–,” xiaojun’s voice cracked, his hands immediately coming up to cup you, “they’re even better than the photo.”

his thumb brushed over your nipples, and you sucked in a breath — sharper than you meant to.

“sensitive?” he asked, eyes flicking up to your face.

you hesitated before admitting, “always.”

his lips curled into something wicked, “oh, im gonna love this.”

without wasting another second, he leaned forward, mouth closing over one nipple, tongue swirling around it before sucking hard. you gasped, your body jolting involuntary at the sensation. his other hand kneaded your other breast, rolling the other nipple between his finger with just enough pressure to make your thighs clench around him.

“you’re shaking,” he murmured, switching sides without giving you time to recover, “god, you’re so hot.” then he sucked harder, pulling until your back arched, your hips grinding into his lap.

the heat between your legs was sharp now, insistent, and you cursed under your breath, “f-fuck, xiaojun–i–”

“you’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” he said, sounding half in awe, half wrecked, “fuck, just from me sucking your nipples…” he moaned into your skin, flicking his tongue rapidly before sealing his lips around you again and sucking like he needed it to breathe.

he pulled back just long enough to look up at you, pupils blown wide, voice soft and shaky, “i thought about this all night. i couldn’t get the way they looked out of my head…the way your nipples looked so—,” he broke off to groan, dragging his tongue slowly over you again.

then he switched sides, giving your other nipple the same treatment — slow circles with his tongue before drawing it into his mouth and flicking the tip until you were clutching his head closer. every pull, every flick sent heat pooling low in your stomach, your breath coming faster as he alternated between them, leaving both buds flushed and aching.

outside, the bass pounded and the fans screamed. inside this room, it was getting harder to remember there was an entire live broadcast happening just meters away.

you could feel him getting harder beneath you, but he seemed completely fixated on you — licking, sucking, biting just enough to make you gasp then soothing it with his tongue. his hands slid down your sides, gripping your waist like he couldn’t bear to let you go. then, without warning, he flicked both thumbs over your nipples over and over and over again, at the same time — quick, precise strokes that had your hips rolling into his lap.

your vision blurred, pleasure shooting down your spine and pooling low in your stomach. every flick, every pull was sending you higher, until — “oh–fuck–,” you moaned right by his ear, your whole body tensed as the orgasm through you. your hips rocked helplessly against him, your nipples aching in his mouth as waves pulsed through you, leaving your thighs trembling around his.

xiaojun froze for half a second, then pulled back just enough to stare at you like you’d just handed him the key to an entire new universe, “you came….just from that?” his voice was low, reverent, like he couldn’t believe it only took him sucking on your tits to get you there.

still panting, you managed, “told you. sensitive.”

his grip on your waist tightened, his pupils blown wide, “god, that’s so hot,” he dipped his head again, dragging his tongue over the still-flushed peak, “i’m gonna do this to you every chance i get.”

the sound of the MC cue faintly filtered in from the outside. they were wrapping up the performance. you had seconds left.

“you’re gonna go out there with these sore and flushed,” he murmured against your skin, pausing only to kiss the soft curve beneath your breast, “and i’m gonna know exactly why.”

you swore under your breath, tugging his head back up, but he caught your nipple betwen his lips again and gave one last, slow pull before finally letting go with a soft, wet pop.

“fix your shirt,” he said, still looking like he’s just been given the best meal of his life.

you yanked your bra and top back into place, still breathless, your chest tingling in the worst (best) way. he stood, straightening his suit like he hadn’t just ruined you.

when you stepped back under the hot stage lights, you plastered on your perfect smile. but every movement made the fabric of your bra brush against your sore, oversensitive nipples and it was maddening.

xiaojun didn’t make it easier. he glanced down at your chest once, slow and deliberate, before looking back at the camera with the same charming grin he always wore.

to everyone watching, he looked like the perfect co-host. to you, he looked like the devil who’d just found your greatest weakness and planned to exploit it.

—