Hi Green!

family (seo changbin x fem!reader)

no warnings, fluff, husband&dad!changbin crumbles

author's note: teeny tiny drabble bc i thought this idea was cute, lmk if you like it !! also, i opened my requests so if you have any ideas you'd want me to write feel more than welcome to send them to me🥸

“c’mon daddy, go!” you heard your daughter whisper from behind the door. you checked the time – it was late, a bit too late for her to be up.

“jieun?” you called her and heard a small oops. then you saw with the corner of your eye your little copy standing in the entrance to your bedroom. 

“can i have a goodnight kiss?” she asked, smiling widely at your reflection in the mirror. you turned to face her with arms spread to hug her and she didn’t waste any second, running into your embrace. you kissed her cheeks and forehead as she giggled. “okay, bye mommy!” she exclaimed, hugging you one more time and running out of the room. you chuckled, turning again to take off your jewellery and brush your hair as you heard your daughter whisper again. “you’ve got this daddy!” she said and then you heard her run to her bed with a sweet giggle, closing the door behind. you wondered what kind of secret was shared between her and changbin as he slowly entered your bedroom with rosy cheeks. he took a few steps closer to you and you met his shy gaze in the mirror.

“what’s going on?” you asked in a curious tone when changbin stood right behind you and grabbed your hairbrush. 

“nothing,” he whispered, reaching to your hair to untangle them. it took you by surprise as changbin was never too keen to do your hair before bed. you looked at his reflection but his eyes were focused on his task, making sure to be as gentle as possible. a pleasant shiver went down your spine and you closed your eyes, relaxing into changbin’s bare chest. 

“god, this feels nice.” 

“yeah?” he asked with a smirk and you let out a faint mhm, but soon he was over, placing your hairbrush down onto your vanity. 

“hey!” you exclaimed jokingly, earning a chuckle from him. 

“stay still, baby. i’m not done.” with these words he ran his fingers through your hair and gently grabbed it to start braiding it. you watched in disbelief as his fingers worked slowly but with an expert manner through your hair. “you have no idea what jieun’s doll went through for me to learn it,” he giggled, not daring to look at you, the blush on his face slowly making its way down onto his neck and chest. 

“wait, is that why you insisted on reading her bedtime stories for the past two weeks?” you inquired as realisation suddenly hit you. changbin didn’t say anything, smirking as he was done with your hair, finishing his work with jieun’s pink hair tie with a little butterfly. 

“done,” he whispered, placing a feather-like kiss on your temple, finally locking his eyes with yours. a familiar warmth spread through your chest as you turned to see the aftermath of changbin’s hard work. i love you, the braid seemed to scream. it was small things like that that made your heart swell and beat faster, even after being with changbin for so long. you couldn't stop thinking about the gesture even in the morning as you glanced in the mirror and saw the butterfly in your hair. and as your daughter woke up, running into your arms first thing in the morning and praising your hairstyle you knew you had everything you could’ve ever wanted in your life – a loving family.

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

hi me again! sorry just forgot to ask if you could include the boys begging as well? needy boys are always 🤌🤌

thank you!!

- 🍀

AHH your request is honestly *chef’s kiss* I’ll also be sure to include begging as well, I got you bestie. It’s been added to my request list!

Write for hanni pls pls pls

Hello! First of all, thank you so, so much for being not only my very first NewJeans request, but also my very first girl group request! You have no idea how excited and happy it made me when I received your notification 🫶🥹

Second of all, since you didn't specify what exactly you wanted to see, I took the liberty to just come up with something on my own, so I hope you enjoy it! If you want me to write something a little more specific, you're more than welcome to make another request! ── ( 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 )

☔️ BLUE LEMONADE ☔️

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 5.5k

so…i made a ko-fi account if anybody is interested in supporting me :) obviously it’s not mandatory or anything like that, but it would really be appreciated! thank you for all the love i’ve received on here!

────* ˚ ✦ CAUGHT IN THE ACT ( stray kids )

❛ The reactions of each member of Stray Kids' Hyung line when they're caught kissing you by another member.

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.0k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 32 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was honestly so much fun to write! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Getting caught kissing, established relationship for every member, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

HYUNG LINE | MAKNAE LINE

방찬 ── BANG CHAN.

You stepped into the familiar recording studio, the dim lights casting a soft glow on the walls adorned with musical equipment and notes scribbled in haste. A paper bag filled with snacks and drinks dangled from your hand, its weight a comforting reminder of your routine visits. Your smile radiates warmth as your eyes meet Chan's, who sat hunched over the mixing console. His gaze lifted, revealing a flicker of gratitude despite the heavy shadows of exhaustion under his eyes.

He returned your smile, a faint but genuine curve of his lips that spoke volumes about his weariness. You chose silence, understanding the unspoken need for peace in this creative sanctuary. With gentle steps, you crossed the room, your presence a soothing balm to his fatigue. Leaning down, you placed a tender kiss on his head, a simple gesture of affection that momentarily lifted the burden from his shoulders.

Reaching into the bag, you retrieved a pack of chips and a bottle, offering them to Chan with a reassuring touch. He accepted them gratefully, his fingers brushing against yours in a brief but intimate exchange. You then settled into your usual spot on the leather couch behind him, its familiar creases and scent a comfort in this shared space. With your phone in hand, you prepared to keep yourself entertained, a quiet guardian of his creative process. The studio's ambient hum and the soft rustle of snack wrappers became the soundtrack to this intimate moment, a testament to the silent support that flowed between you.

This had become your usual routine—a cherished ritual that intertwined your lives with comforting regularity. Every other day, you would find yourself here, in the sanctuary of the recording studio, offering your quiet companionship while he immersed himself in his work. Your role was not merely to be present but to eventually coax him away from his intense focus, ensuring he returned home with you for the rest he so desperately needed.

Tonight was no different. You nestled into the familiar embrace of the leather couch, your fingers idly scrolling through social media, a soft glow from your phone illuminating your face. The ambient sounds of the studio enveloped you, a symphony of creativity and dedication. The rhythmic tapping of buttons, the soft click of switches, and the occasional hum of equipment blended into a soothing background noise.

Every now and then, a sigh of frustration would escape Chan's lips, a testament to his tireless pursuit of perfection. You glanced up occasionally, observing the furrow of his brow, the determination etched in his features. His passion was palpable, filling the room with an electric energy that made your heart swell with pride and tenderness.

Despite the ambient hum and your digital distraction, you were attuned to his every move, ready to step in when the time came. The silent understanding between you both was a testament to the deep bond you shared—a bond forged in these moments of mutual support and quiet companionship. This was your routine, a beautiful dance of dedication and care, ensuring that amidst the whirlwind of his creative storm, he found a safe harbor in your presence.

Eventually, Chan wheeled around in his chair, his gaze locking onto you as you lay sprawled across the couch, indulging in a handful of sour gummies. His eyes softened, the weariness momentarily giving way to a tender appreciation for your presence. For a brief moment, he remained still, simply observing you with a small, tired smile.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lifted himself from his seat, the soft creak of the chair punctuating the silence. Each step he took toward you seemed to carry the weight of his exhaustion, yet there was a lightness in his eyes as he approached. Without warning, he let his body drape over yours, the suddenness of it eliciting a startled yelp from your lips.

His warmth enveloped you, the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with the sweet tang of the gummies you were eating. You quickly dissolved into giggles at his playful actions, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso in a protective embrace. His presence was a comforting weight, grounding you both in this shared moment of intimacy.

The world outside the studio walls faded away, leaving just the two of you cocooned in a bubble of tranquility. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours, a rhythmic reminder of his presence. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his back, offering silent reassurance as he melted into your embrace. This was your sanctuary, a haven where exhaustion and stress gave way to love and connection, a beautifully ordinary moment made extraordinary by the simple act of being together.

“Break time?” you asked softly, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet room. Chan responded with a low grunt, his exhaustion evident in the simplicity of his reply. A light giggle escaped your lips, the sound a soft, comforting echo in the studio.

Reaching up, your fingers threaded through the strands of his hair, finding their way to the back of his head. With practiced ease, you began to scratch gently, your touch tender and soothing. Almost immediately, a contented hum rumbled from his chest, a sound that spoke of deep appreciation and relief.

His eyes fluttered closed, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away under your gentle ministrations. You could feel the subtle shifts in his posture, each exhalation a testament to the comfort he found in your presence. This simple act, a small gesture of care, held a profound intimacy that words could not capture.

The room seemed to cocoon you both, the dim light casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. Each scratch of your fingers was a lullaby, a tender reminder of the bond you shared. In this moment, amidst the ambient hum of the studio and the quiet hum of his contentment, time seemed to slow, allowing you to savor the tranquility of your connection.

His breathing deepened, a silent testament to the trust he placed in you, and you continued your gentle caress, your heart swelling with affection. This was your sanctuary, a place where words were unnecessary, and the simple act of touch spoke volumes.

After a while, you were almost surprised to hear him speak. His voice broke the silence, soft and drowsy, since you had been convinced he had fallen asleep on top of you.

His breathing had slowed, and his weight had settled comfortably against you, creating a warm, enveloping cocoon. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours had lulled you into a tranquil state, where the world outside seemed a distant memory.

“Good day today?” he murmured, his words a tender vibration against your skin. The question carried a quiet intimacy, a bridge between the waking world and the serene bubble you both inhabited.

You blinked, the unexpectedness of his voice pulling you from your reverie. A smile curled at your lips as you looked down at him, your fingers stilling momentarily in his hair. The soft light from the studio cast a gentle glow on his face, highlighting the subtle lines of fatigue that framed his eyes.

“It was alright,” you answered with a weak shrug, your eyes remaining fixed on the ceiling. The subtle patterns in the plaster seemed to shift and dance as you reveled in the closeness between the two of you, his warmth a comforting presence against your body.

As you lay there, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift, the quiet intimacy of the moment creating a sanctuary from the world outside. The soft rise and fall of his breathing against you was a soothing rhythm, grounding you in the present.

“I mostly kept to myself today,” you continued, your voice a soft murmur in the tranquil room. “It just felt like such a long day for some reason.”

Your words hung in the air, a quiet confession that carried the weariness of the hours you had endured. Each moment of solitude, each minute that had dragged on, seemed to dissipate now in the comforting embrace of his presence.

Chan shifted, adjusting his position to place his weight on his forearms, which were now on either side of your head. This allowed him to lean back slightly, creating just enough space to gaze down at your face. The closeness of his presence, combined with the tenderness in his eyes, sent a flutter through your heart.

The dim light of the studio cast gentle shadows across his features, softening the lines of exhaustion and highlighting the quiet strength in his expression. His gaze held a mixture of empathy and understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the weariness you both shared.

“It really did feel like an unnecessarily long day for me, too,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that resonated in the small space between you. The words carried a weight of shared experience, a bond forged through mutual understanding and silent support.

His eyes traced the contours of your face, lingering on the subtle nuances of your expression. You could feel the connection between you deepening, each unspoken thought and emotion passing effortlessly between you. His proximity, the warmth of his body, and the gentle cadence of his words created a cocoon of intimacy that enveloped you both.

As you looked up at him, you could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a mirror to your own feelings. The shared acknowledgment of the day's trials brought a sense of comfort, a reminder that you were not alone in your struggles.

The room seemed to fade into the background, the ambient sounds of the studio becoming a distant hum. All that mattered in this moment was the quiet exchange between you, a sanctuary of understanding and support. His presence, so close and so tender, was a balm to the fatigue that had weighed heavily on you both throughout the day.

You reached up, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, a silent gesture of reassurance and affection. His eyes softened even further, and a small, grateful smile played at the corners of his lips. In this moment, the long day seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of your connection and the promise of shared solace.

The hand that had been tenderly scratching his hair now shifted to cup his cheek, your fingers tracing the delicate curve of his jaw. The touch was gentle, filled with a warmth that only deepened the connection between you. Chan immediately leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the contact, a soft smile gracing his lips.

His skin felt warm against your palm, and you could sense the quiet gratitude in the way he pressed closer, finding comfort in the simple gesture. The room around you seemed to hold its breath, the ambient hum of the studio fading into the background as the moment stretched between you.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Chan leaned down, his breath mingling with yours in the intimate space. His eyes met yours for a fleeting second, a silent exchange of affection and understanding, before he pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead. The contact was tender, imbued with a sweetness that made your heart swell.

As his lips brushed your skin, your eyes fluttered closed, the world around you dissolving into a haze of warmth and closeness. The kiss lingered, a silent promise of care and support that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. You could feel the soft exhalation of his breath, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the unspoken words that filled the space between you.

Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into an eternity of quiet connection. Your senses were heightened, every detail of the moment imprinted in your memory—the gentle pressure of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the soothing cadence of his presence. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy, a sanctuary of love and understanding that transcended the weariness of the day.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes opened slowly, meeting yours with a gaze that spoke volumes. There was a softness there, a tenderness that mirrored your own feelings, and in that shared look, you found a renewed sense of strength and comfort. The weight of the day seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the promise of more moments like this, filled with love and quiet understanding.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, his voice a gentle whisper that seemed to reverberate through the quiet studio. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, seeking solace in the warmth and familiarity of your embrace. His breath, warm and steady, brushed against your skin, sending a shiver of tenderness down your spine.

You could feel the sincerity in his words, each syllable carrying the weight of his longing and affection. The closeness of his body against yours, the way he nestled into you as if finding his way home, spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings. It was a quiet confession, one that wrapped around your heart and made it swell with love.

“All I could do was watch the time until you finally joined me here,” he continued, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to melt into the air around you. His words painted a vivid picture of his anticipation, the minutes and hours stretching out endlessly as he waited for the moment you would walk through the door.

The imagery of his longing played in your mind, each tick of the clock echoing his silent wish for your presence. You imagined him glancing at the time, his thoughts drifting to you with each passing minute, the studio filled with the hum of his work yet missing the comforting presence that only you could bring.

Your hand moved to gently stroke his hair, your fingers weaving through the soft strands as you offered silent reassurance. The tactile connection was a balm to both your souls, a physical manifestation of the love that flowed between you. His body relaxed further into yours, the tension of the day gradually melting away as he found peace in your embrace.

The room around you seemed to fade into the background, the dim light casting gentle shadows that danced along the walls. It was as if the world had shrunk to encompass only the two of you, a cocoon of intimacy where time moved at its own pace. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart against yours, created a symphony of togetherness that filled the space with warmth and connection.

As you held him, your heart echoed his sentiments. The hours apart had felt like a lifetime, each moment tinged with the anticipation of being reunited. Now, in the quiet sanctity of the studio, you reveled in the simple joy of being close, of sharing the same breath and heartbeat. This was your haven, a place where love and longing intertwined, creating a tapestry of moments that were as beautiful as they were fleeting.

A blush crept onto your cheeks, a rosy bloom spreading warmth through your skin as his words settled in your heart. Your smile widened, a reflection of the joy and affection that welled up within you. As Chan leaned back to face you once more, his eyes met yours with a gaze that spoke of longing and love.

Without hesitation, you leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss, the movement swift and eager. The initial touch was tender, a sweet brush of connection, but almost unconsciously, you found yourself deepening the kiss. The world around you seemed to blur, the boundaries of the studio fading into insignificance as you lost yourself in the moment.

Chan responded with equal passion, his lips moving against yours in a dance of fervor and intimacy. Each kiss, each caress, was a silent declaration of the emotions that words could not fully convey. The heat of the kiss ignited a spark that spread through your veins, a fiery rush of desire and affection that left you breathless.

As your lips melded together, you could feel his fingers busying themselves, threading through your hair with gentle yet deliberate movements. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, each touch a soothing balm and an electric thrill all at once. His fingertips traced patterns along your scalp, weaving through the strands of your hair in a tender, almost reverent manner.

The kiss deepened further, your senses heightening with every passing second. You could taste the lingering sweetness of his breath, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the faint rustle of clothing as you both shifted closer. The world outside ceased to exist, the only reality the intoxicating blend of your shared breaths and the soft hum of the studio in the background.

Time seemed to stretch, each moment expanding to hold the fullness of your connection. Your heart raced, its beat a rhythmic echo of the passion that thrummed between you. The kiss was a symphony of emotions, a harmonious blend of love, desire, and an unspoken promise of togetherness.

Just as the kiss began to deepen, an unexpected sound shattered the moment—the door creaking open with an almost comical slowness. The intrusion was abrupt, and both of you were startled from your intimate cocoon. Chan, reacting instinctively, tried to detach himself from you with haste, his sudden movement sending him rolling off the couch.

The transition was less than graceful; he landed rather harshly on the floor beside you, the impact eliciting a low groan from him. He grimaced, immediately starting to rub his lower back in an attempt to soothe the jolt of pain from the fall. The couch, once a haven of warmth and affection, now stood empty and slightly disheveled, a testament to the sudden disruption.

Your eyes shifted to the doorway, where Jisung stood frozen for a split second, his own eyes wide with shock at the scene before him. The surprise in his expression was fleeting, quickly giving way to a playful smirk. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze dancing with mischievous amusement.

The contrast between the intense moment you had shared and the lightheartedness of Jisung's entrance was jarring. As the initial surprise subsided, the atmosphere shifted from one of intimate connection to one of awkward hilarity. The room, now filled with the soft chuckles of Jisung and the embarrassed, lingering blush on your cheeks, felt distinctly different.

You and Chan exchanged glances, your faces flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. Chan’s attempt to regain composure while still rubbing his sore back added to the scene’s comedic effect. In the midst of the disruption, the warmth of the moment seemed to dissipate, replaced by the easy camaraderie of Jisung’s teasing presence.

“I can come back later,” Jisung said, his voice carrying an unmistakable hint of playful suggestion. The words lingered in the air, charged with an amused undertone that made it clear he was fully aware of the scene he had just interrupted.

You responded with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, a playful gesture that contrasted sharply with the initial embarrassment. Your smile, though slightly flushed, held a warmth of shared amusement. The gesture was both a dismissal of the teasing and a silent acknowledgment of the lighthearted banter Jisung was introducing.

Chan, still seated on the floor, let out a soft scoff, the sound a mixture of mild frustration and reluctant humor. His expression, though slightly exasperated, softened as he met Jisung’s teasing gaze. The contrast between the seriousness of the moment and the levity Jisung brought was palpable, and Chan’s reaction spoke to the blend of embarrassment and begrudging acceptance of the interruption.

“Did you need something?” Chan inquired, his voice a mixture of curiosity and residual embarrassment as he pushed himself up from the floor. With a slight wince and a careful stretch, he made his way back to his chair, resettling into the spot he had vacated moments before.

Jisung stepped into the studio, his presence marked by the purposeful stride and the iPad clutched in his hand. He took a seat in one of the empty chairs, his movements deliberate and focused, a contrast to the playful banter that had just filled the room. The iPad, held like a cherished artifact, seemed to hum with the promise of creative endeavor.

“Yeah,” Jisung began, his tone shifting from teasing to serious. The change was palpable, and the lightness that had accompanied his entrance melted away, replaced by a more earnest demeanor. He glanced down at the device in his hands, the weight of his words evident in the subtle tension of his posture.

“I just finished writing this song,” he continued, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. “I thought I might ask you for some feedback.” His gaze met Chan’s with a mix of anticipation and concern. “I’m struggling to find the melody for it, though.”

The request hung in the air, a testament to Jisung’s dedication and the challenge he faced. The room, once charged with the intimacy of your earlier exchange, now buzzed with the promise of collaboration and the earnest pursuit of creative refinement. Chan’s expression shifted to one of thoughtful consideration, his earlier amusement giving way to the focused attention that Jisung’s request deserved.

As Chan prepared to listen, the studio seemed to take on a new energy, one of shared purpose and artistic exploration. The casual comfort of the space, with its soft lighting and the scattered remnants of your earlier moment, now became a haven for the exchange of creative ideas and constructive feedback.

이민호 ── LEE MINHO.

The only sounds that punctuated the tranquil evening were the soft clinks of ceramic and glass as they met and departed in gentle harmony. Minho's hands moved deftly in the soapy water, each dish emerging clean from the frothy embrace of the sink. He would pass the polished plates and gleaming utensils to you with practiced ease, and you would then guide them through a final rinse, the clear water cascading over them like a delicate waterfall.

This rhythmic dance of choreographed movements unfolded in a serene cocoon of silence, where each clink and splash became a soothing symphony of domestic tranquility. The dim light from the overhead fixture cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the quiet intimacy of the moment.

You leaned closer, resting your head lightly upon Minho’s shoulder, finding solace in the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. The simple act of watching him, so absorbed in his task, filled you with a deep sense of contentment. The harmony of your shared routine seemed to weave a thread of comfort through the evening, binding you both in a quiet, unspoken connection.

Minho had prepared a sumptuous feast, each dish a testament to his culinary prowess. The table was adorned with a vibrant spread of delectable creations, each plate a masterpiece in its own right. As the meal began, the room was alive with a symphony of laughter and lively chatter, the air thick with the aroma of spices and savory delights. The members gathered around, their faces illuminated by the warm light of the overhead lamp, their voices weaving a tapestry of animated conversations.

But now, as the final morsels were savored and the last sips of wine enjoyed, a tranquil silence had settled over the room. The clamor of exuberant laughter had given way to a peaceful hush, the once-bustling table now a haven of contented quiet. The lingering scents of the meal mingled with the soft hum of satisfaction, creating an atmosphere of serene afterglow. Everyone leaned back in their chairs, basking in the lingering warmth of good food and even better company.

The plan had been simple and straightforward: you would take on the task of washing the dishes while Minho, who had diligently prepared the meal, would enjoy a well-deserved rest. Yet Minho, with his unwavering determination, had other ideas. His refusal to let you tackle the chore alone was as steadfast as it was endearing.

With a warm, insistent smile, Minho proposed that you both share the task, transforming the mundane chore into a collaborative effort. His eyes sparkled with a mix of stubbornness and affection, a look that left little room for argument. Despite your initial reluctance and the mild exasperation that accompanied it, you found yourself yielding to his gentle insistence.

The prospect of working side by side, immersed in the rhythmic clinks of plates and the soothing warmth of soapy water, began to take on a new charm. Minho’s determination to be your partner in this small yet significant task softened your resistance, allowing you to embrace the shared experience with a touch of reluctant but genuine fondness.

As Minho passed you the final cup he had washed, the delicate glass cool and smooth in your hands, he turned his attention to rinsing his own hands. The kitchen was bathed in a soft, amber glow from the overhead light, casting gentle shadows that danced across the room. He dried his hands with a kitchen towel, the fabric absorbing the last traces of moisture with a quiet efficiency.

Watching you with a tender gaze, his sharp features softened into an expression of serene affection. The contrast of his usual intensity with this gentle demeanor created a moment of profound intimacy. As you felt the lightest brush of his lips on the crown of your head, a shy smile unfurled on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the warmth and closeness between you.

After you had finished rinsing the last cup, Minho reached out, offering you the towel he had used. The gesture, simple yet laden with care, spoke volumes of his desire to share this small, endearing ritual. His touch lingered with a quiet intimacy, as if the act of handing you the towel was another way of weaving a thread of connection into the fabric of your shared evening.

"Dinner was delicious, as always, my love," you murmured with a contented sigh, letting the kitchen towel slip from your fingers and fall gently to the floor. You moved closer, enfolding him in a tender embrace. Your arms wrapped around his lean torso, drawing him into the warmth of your affection.

Resting your chin on his chest, you tilted your head upwards to gaze at him with adoration. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek provided a soothing backdrop to your heartfelt gratitude. "Thank you," you whispered softly, your voice a tender caress against the quiet of the evening. In that moment, the simple act of holding each other spoke volumes, a silent testament to the depth of your shared love and appreciation.

A playful twinkle sparkled in his eyes as he looked at you, his smile radiating warmth and affection. His fingers, gentle and reassuring, wove through your hair with a tender touch, as if savoring the moment of closeness.

"I’m glad you enjoyed the meal," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against the quiet. The sincerity of his words was mirrored in the affectionate way he stroked your hair, his touch both soothing and intimate. In that shared, tranquil moment, his gaze and gentle gestures spoke volumes about the care and joy he found in seeing you content.

What began as a fleeting, tender kiss on your cheek had swiftly transformed into a fervent embrace of lips. The gentle touch of his lips ignited a spark, leading to a passionate kiss where your tongues engaged in their well-practiced dance, exploring and intertwining with a fluid grace.

His hands cradled your face with an exquisite tenderness, as though he feared that any more pressure might shatter the delicate connection between you. The way his fingers caressed your cheeks, with such gentle reverence, conveyed a deep sense of reverence and care. Each touch seemed to convey an unspoken promise, a silent pledge to cherish and protect the fragile beauty of the moment.

“Oh—!” A sudden, startled yelp pierced the air, shattering the intimate bubble that had enveloped you and Minho. Heads whipped around in unison to find Yongbok standing at the kitchen entrance, his expression a mix of surprise and awkward hesitation.

He lingered at the threshold, caught between the decision to either step into the room or retreat to the safety of the living room. His stance, poised mid-step with uncertainty written across his face, underscored the unexpected intrusion into what had been a moment of tender privacy.

"Ah," Minho exhaled with a playful whine, his head tilting to the side as if weighed down by exaggerated exasperation. He squeezed his eyes shut, the corners of his mouth curving into a mock frown that was both endearing and dramatic.

"I can’t seem to have a moment of solitude in here," he lamented, his tone laced with a humorous undertone. The theatrics of his gesture and the melodramatic sigh added a layer of lightheartedness to the interruption, making his feigned annoyance all the more charming.

A deep blush colored Yongbok’s cheeks as he bowed his head slightly, offering a silent apology that spoke volumes. His embarrassment was palpable, yet he moved with a purposeful grace, stepping into the kitchen with a mix of shyness and determination.

He made a beeline for the freezer, his movements quick and somewhat furtive. With a swift motion, he retrieved a brand new tub of ice cream, the cool container a stark contrast to the warmth of his cheeks. As he slipped back toward the door, his voice broke through the quiet with an embarrassed yet earnest, “Sorry!” His hasty retreat, accompanied by the muffled sound of the freezer closing, left a lingering trace of his red-faced mortification.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the unfolding scene, the sound a soft ripple of amusement in the otherwise quiet room. Your hands gently rested on Minho’s biceps, feeling the subtle strength beneath his shirt as you turned to face him once more.

Minho was already gazing at you with a look that combined mischief and amusement, his eyes sparkling with a playful light that drew you in. The sight of his tender, yet mischievous expression made your heart flutter, an involuntary blush creeping across your cheeks. The warmth of your blush contrasted with the coolness of the evening, adding a delightful layer to the already enchanting moment.

“Should I escort everyone who doesn’t reside here out?” Minho mused aloud, his index finger tapping thoughtfully against his chin. The gesture was deliberate, a small ritual of contemplation as he considered the crowded scene around him.

He sighed softly, his gaze drifting towards you with a mix of longing and humor. “I’d really appreciate a moment of solitude with my lover,” he continued, his voice tinged with playful exasperation. The desire for privacy was clear in his words, a heartfelt wish for a brief respite from the throng of people that seemed to encircle you both.

Your cheeks flushed deeper at his remark, the warmth of your blush spreading as you playfully slapped his chest with a gentle, teasing motion. “No, I actually enjoy having them here,” you replied, your voice carrying a soft, affectionate tone.

Minho’s reaction was swift and dramatic—he pouted, a look of mock offense crossing his features. His expression was almost comically wounded, adding a layer of endearing charm to his demeanor. “You love them here, too,” he retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of playful reproach. “We don’t get many chances to spend time like this, surrounded by everyone we care about.” His words carried a mix of sincerity and affection, highlighting the rare and cherished moments of togetherness amidst the lively company.

Though Minho recognized the truth in your words, he couldn’t resist the dramatic flair of throwing his head back in an exaggerated display of exasperation. The gesture was both theatrical and endearing, a playful prelude to the amused smile that soon graced his lips as he turned back to face you.

With a gentle peck on your forehead, his affection was palpable and tender, a quiet gesture that spoke volumes. Minho then shifted slightly, subtly encouraging you to step back and make room for him to maneuver. Together, you both ventured back into the living room, where the lively banter of the other members filled the air. Their animated debate over which movie to watch created a backdrop of joyful chaos, adding a touch of familiar, comfortable noise to the evening’s unfolding scenes.

서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.

As you stepped into the familiar confines of the gym, the echo of your footsteps reverberated through the empty space. The dim lighting cast a soft glow on the rows of pristine equipment, all neatly aligned yet untouched, giving the place an almost ethereal quality. It was a sanctuary of solitude, the usual clamor replaced by a serene silence, the gym technically closed to the public. But Changbin, with his special privileges, had always been an exception.

Changbin's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he turned to you, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "What are you going to be working on today?" he inquired, his voice gentle yet brimming with enthusiasm.

You took a moment, savoring the tranquility, before taking a swift sip from your water bottle. "Today, I’ll focus on my arms and chest," you replied, your voice steady and resolute. "But I’m starting with cardio."

Changbin nodded, his expression one of approval and understanding. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss onto your cheek, the warmth of his lips lingering like a delicate whisper. He then gently nudged you towards the treadmill, his touch both encouraging and affectionate. "Today's leg day for me," he declared with a soft chuckle, his eyes glinting with determination.

As you began your workout, the rhythmic hum of the treadmill filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft rustle of your movements. The gym, though silent and still, seemed to come alive with the shared energy and quiet companionship, a testament to the unspoken bond you and Changbin cherished.

Just like that, you both found yourselves immersed in your own worlds, each movement and breath synchronizing with the rhythm of your workouts. The gym seemed to fade away, leaving only the steady cadence of your heartbeats and the pulsating energy of your exertion. 

Your large headphones enveloped your ears, cocooning you in a bubble of high-energy music. Each song, meticulously selected for its invigorating beat, propelled you forward, every stride on the treadmill matching the tempo of the powerful tunes. The music was your fuel, igniting your determination and driving you through each passing minute.

Meanwhile, Changbin was equally engrossed in his routine, his focus unwavering as he pushed through the burn of leg day. The clang of weights and the soft thud of his movements created a rhythm of their own, a testament to his dedication and strength. 

When the thirty minutes finally elapsed, you both reconvened, seeking each other's presence for a much-needed respite. Your breath came in shallow pants, the exertion evident in the slight sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. The treadmill had tested your endurance, leaving you flushed and glowing with the heat of your efforts.

Changbin, too, bore the marks of his intense workout. His face was flushed, and beads of perspiration trickled down his temples. He lifted his water bottle, tilting it back to down a generous portion of the cool liquid, the refreshing sensation bringing a momentary relief from the heat. 

As you caught your breath, the shared silence was comforting, a mutual understanding that needed no words. The gym, still hushed and serene, felt like a haven where both of you could push your limits and find solace in each other’s presence.

"I was watching you while you were running," Changbin remarked after wiping his mouth, his tone carrying a playful edge that made you smirk. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of admiration and mischief as he continued, "You look so good, it’s not even remotely funny or fair."

You couldn't help but scoff, rolling your eyes at him, but the warmth in his gaze made it impossible to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Stepping closer to your boyfriend, you felt a surge of affection. The scent of his cologne mingled with the fresh, clean aroma of the gym, creating an intimate bubble around you both.

In one swift motion, you captured his lips with yours, the kiss light and teasing. You giggled, delighting in the surprised look on his face as you pulled away before he had a chance to react. His pout was adorable, a mixture of mock annoyance and genuine desire.

Not one to be outdone, Changbin leaned down, closing the distance between you. His lips found yours again, this time more firmly, conveying a deeper passion and a hint of possessiveness. The kiss was a promise, a silent affirmation of his feelings, and you responded in kind, melting into the moment.

The gym, with its quiet solitude and dim lighting, faded into the background. All that mattered was the connection between you two, the electricity in the air as your lips met and parted. It was a stolen moment of tenderness and playfulness, a testament to the unique bond you shared.

As you should have expected, Changbin wasted no time in reaching up to cradle your face, his fingers tender yet firm against your skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and his intent was clear: he wanted to deepen the kiss, to lose himself in the moment with you.

The world seemed to fade away as his lips moved against yours, each touch a testament to his longing. However, before the kiss could escalate, a sudden, sharp sound shattered the tranquility. The door banged open with a loud thud, startling you both apart, your hearts pounding not just from the exertion but from the abrupt interruption.

You and Changbin turned simultaneously, eyes wide with surprise and a hint of annoyance, to find Jeongin standing by the door. His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and amusement, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he took in the scene.

"I'm sorry," Jeongin began, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't know you guys would need some time—"

He hesitated, glancing between you and Changbin, the awkwardness of the situation apparent. The silence stretched for a moment, thick with unspoken words and the remnants of the interrupted kiss.

Jeongin's smile turned a bit more genuine as he added, "I can give you five minutes to finish, though."

The jab had you cackling, the sound echoing through the gym. Changbin, however, feigned offense, playfully yelling, "Hey! I can last a hell of a lot longer than some measly five minutes!" He huffed dramatically, his pout exaggerated to drive home the point. Jeongin laughed, shaking his head slightly, amused by the spectacle.

"What are you even doing here?" Changbin asked after a beat of silence, curiosity piqued.

Jeongin cocked his head to the side, his expression almost puzzled. "You…we agreed I’d meet you here tonight to work out…" His words trailed off, the memory slowly dawning on him as he spoke.

As if struck by sudden realization, Changbin gasped theatrically, slapping his palm against his forehead. "That’s right! I’m sorry, come in." His apology was earnest, his eyes reflecting a mixture of guilt and amusement.

"Oh, I’d rather not be a third wheel, thank you very much," Jeongin teased, a playful glint in his eyes. You rolled your eyes at him, unable to suppress a smile. The banter was light-hearted, a testament to the easy camaraderie between you all.

Changbin, on the other hand, wasn't about to let his friend off the hook that easily. "Oh, no you don’t!" he called out, his voice booming through the gym. He rushed forward, grabbing Jeongin by the shirt as he attempted to leave, pulling him back into the gym with surprising strength.

Jeongin's protests were half-hearted, more amused than anything else. The scene was almost comical, the gym’s solemnity broken by your laughter and the playful antics of your friends. It was a moment of shared joy, a reminder of the bonds that held you together even in the most mundane of settings.

황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.

You whine softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as you press your hand against Hyunjin's forehead to push him away. His persistence is unwavering, though, and he keeps returning with puckered lips and mischievous eyes that sparkle with playful intent. The soft glow of the television casts a warm hue over the room, illuminating his features and accentuating the twinkle in his eyes.

For quite some time now, Hyunjin had been trying to capture your lips with his own, his attempts at stealing kisses becoming increasingly daring. Yet, your focus remained steadfast on the movie playing on the screen. The film’s storyline had finally ensnared your attention, and for once, you wanted to see it through without distractions. You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty, knowing how much Hyunjin craved these intimate moments, but the timing just didn't feel right.

Besides, the living room of the apartment he shared with his roommate, Changbin, didn’t seem like the ideal setting for such affection. The thought of indulging in romantic gestures here, even with the knowledge that Changbin was away at the gym, felt unsettling. The echo of his presence lingered in the air, and the mere idea of it dulled the allure of Hyunjin's advances. The movie provided a convenient shield, a reason to resist the pull of his playful charm, as you both sat close yet worlds apart on the couch.

"Come on," Hyunjin complained, his voice tinged with a playful whine as he pouted, his lips forming a perfect, exaggerated curve. The sight of him like this, with his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes wide with mock disappointment, sent a ripple of amusement through you. Unable to suppress a giggle, you found his expression irresistibly adorable, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

"Just a little bit, and then I'll leave you alone," he pleaded, his tone a mixture of enticement and surrender. His persistence was endearing, a testament to his desire for your attention and affection. You sighed theatrically, rolling your eyes with feigned exasperation at his dramatic antics, yet a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Hyunjin's charm was a force to be reckoned with, and even in moments like these, he knew exactly how to push your buttons.

"The movie is almost done," you stated, glancing at the television screen and pointing with the remote in your hand. The film's climax was nearing, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and relief. "Once the movie is done, I'm all yours — fair?" Your words hung in the air, a promise of undivided attention once the credits rolled. 

Hyunjin huffed in playful defeat, his breath escaping in a soft, theatrical exhale. With a resigned nod, he agreed, then settled himself comfortably on the couch, laying his head on your lap while his feet dangled off the armrest. The weight of his head on your thighs felt familiar and comforting. A chuckle escaped your lips as you unpaused the movie, your fingers instinctively weaving through his long, silken hair, the strands slipping like liquid gold between your fingertips.

There was something endearing about Hyunjin's behavior, how he could be so clingy and needy despite his usual claims of not being a fan of physical affection. It amused you endlessly, this dichotomy of his personality, and you couldn't help but smile at the contrast. His presence was a delightful distraction, one that added a layer of warmth and intimacy to the moment.

As the movie continued to play, you found yourself getting drawn back into the plot, though not without the occasional commentary meant to elicit laughter from Hyunjin. Your whispered remarks and shared giggles created a cozy cocoon of companionship, the outside world fading away as you reveled in the simple pleasure of being together. Each touch, each laugh, each whispered word added another stitch to the tapestry of your shared moments, weaving a bond that felt unbreakable.

When the movie finally came to an end, you barely had a moment to register the closing credits before Hyunjin practically launched himself at you, his lithe form straddling your lap with an impish grin lighting up his face. His eyes sparkled with a playful mischief, and without warning, he began to pepper your face and neck with a flurry of kisses. Each feather-light touch sent delightful shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but giggle loudly, the sound filling the room with infectious joy.

Despite your best efforts to push him away, your attempts were half-hearted at best, your resolve weakened by the sheer delight of his affectionate onslaught. Hyunjin, ever the tease, quickly caught your wrists in his grasp, pinning them securely to his lap. His grip was firm yet gentle, and his eyes danced with laughter as he resumed his barrage of kisses. The sensation of his lips against your skin, warm and insistent, left you breathless and giddy.

You wriggled and squirmed beneath him, your laughter rising in pitch as you became a squealing, giggling mess. The room seemed to blur around you, the only clarity being the closeness of Hyunjin, the feel of his body pressed against yours, and the sound of his laughter mingling with your own. His kisses were relentless, each one a playful declaration of his affection, and no amount of squirming seemed to deter him.

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only you and Hyunjin, caught in a whirlwind of shared laughter and tender kisses. Your attempts at defense were futile, each wriggle and squeal only serving to encourage him further. Yet, beneath the playful struggle, there was a profound sense of happiness, a blissful contentment that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

Lost in your own bubble of joy and affection, neither of you noticed when Changbin returned from the gym. He stood silently by the doorway, his phone poised in front of his face, capturing the endearing chaos unfolding before him. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he recorded the scene, amused by the playful display of intimacy.

It was only when you turned your head and caught sight of him that a startled yelp escaped your lips. The sound jolted Hyunjin from his revelry, his expression shifting from delight to confusion. "Hey! What are you doing? Are you filming?" you asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. The sudden shift in your tone finally alerted Hyunjin to his roommate’s presence.

Changbin’s boisterous laughter erupted, filling the space with a rich, hearty sound. He quickly turned off his phone and shoved it into his pocket, but not before Hyunjin had leapt from your lap, his face a mix of mock outrage and concern. “That’s an invasion of privacy!” Hyunjin declared with exaggerated drama, his voice ringing through the room.

Your laughter mingled with Changbin’s as you shot Hyunjin a teasing look. “Baby, we’re in the living room. This is not a private space for you to be saying that.” Hyunjin’s face fell into a pout, his lower lip jutting out as he glanced at you. 

“Whose side are you on, huh?” he asked, a playful edge to his tone.

Changbin, clearly entertained by the bickering, shook his head with a chuckle as he turned and made his way towards his bedroom. His amusement lingered in the air, a lighthearted reminder of the everyday warmth and camaraderie that filled the apartment. The door closed softly behind him, leaving you and Hyunjin to continue your playful exchange, the echo of laughter still dancing in the room.

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스트레이 키즈 ( 한 ) + idol female reader ⇅ genre angst hurt + comfort semi-slowburn chapter warning mentions of reader being in pain slight mommy issues reader being stressed with work and having some imposter's syndrome symptoms rating 18+ word count 1.5k summary in which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms status on going q&a open

# other works by green # kofi # free palestine # palestine stayblr fundraiser # series masterlist

⌗ O1┆shrined

ten months earlier

It’s a shrine. Photographs and posters of your own face decorate the walls of your former bedroom, framed and hung neatly into rows according to the dates released. The wobbly old bookshelves that used to hold your most cherished books had been replaced by plain white ones that now hold nothing more than your albums and merchandise. The desk you’d spent hours upon hours sitting at while studying or writing songs until your body physically could not hold you up any longer is gone, and in place there are a few life-sized cardboards that you’re certain were not bought, but taken. The only familiarity in this shrine is your bed, dressed in the same crimson color you’d always adored. There sat you, a shell of someone whose face was never on the walls in such a way, along with your suitcase that lay untouched since you’ve arrived. 

A plethora of conflicting emotions overwhelmed your entire being as memories upon memories you often avoided flooded your already busy mind, causing a migraine to creep in through your temples. Although you’d already taken some medicine for it, you doubt it would be something that might be relieved without a proper night’s sleep. However, as your mother poked her head through the half-closed door of your old bedroom, you knew that might not be the case. Regardless, you pulled the corners of your lips into a smile you hoped would be convincing enough for her as she made her way inside to take a seat beside you. 

She looked around at the redecorating she did, blushing slightly. “I couldn’t help it, I wanted to support you in your success.”

You didn’t say anything, instead opting to take another look around at all of the eerie posters you’d barely remember posing for. The dark tones of horror present in every single thing that contained your stage name, Noctara, that created an odd feeling of looking at someone else instead of your own face. 

“I wanted to have it all in the living room, so that our friends could see how hard you’re working, but your father thought it might scare some of them away,” she laughed softly at this, rolling her eyes as though she thought it was the most ridiculous thing, and although you’d side with your father, you smiled at her anyway. It was odd to watch her find something to say, considering the last time you’d seen her in person had been so hurtful. It could only mean that she wished to forget about it — or maybe she already did. 

It wasn’t surprising in the least that she would choose to display your success now that you couldn’t walk the streets without covering up half of your face so you wouldn’t be recognized. Although you’d always had an affinity for performing, there were too many times in which you considered quitting with your mother’s obsession with having a talented child. Too many times had you been pushed right up to the edge, struggling to grab onto something to hold and keep you from falling. The irony of you being a successful idol does not escape you, though, as deadlines and busy schedules creep up behind you every time you attempt to catch a breath; only this time, you couldn’t run behind your doting father to save you from the heavy weight of the expectations of others — not when your career found itself at its peak. 

Because of your career, you were able to have your father retire from his construction job and help him pursue his lifelong dream of owning a record store right around the corner of your street. If you quit and hide now, your family that now depends on your income would be left with nothing despite your father’s store blooming thanks to this generation buying vinyls again, and it wouldn’t be fair no matter how you felt about them at the end of the day. 

“Have you seen my garden?” Your mother asked after what felt like an eternity of silence. You shake your head, surprised to hear she’d finally done what she had always said she would: to tend the gardens that had spent so many years of your childhood neglected. “Come with me.”

She motioned with her hand for you to follow her, quickly standing up and rushing out of your room as though she’d have preferred being anywhere else. With a soft groan, you stand on your feet as you ignore the ache on your lower back and knees. 

The glass sliding doors that led to your backyard was wide open when you finally stepped into the common areas of your house. Your mother stood on the porch, smiling widely as you finally scanned her hard work. It was clear that she did not plan a single thing, with wildflowers of all kinds scattered around and standing almost as tall as yourself. Though she did make a stone path that would meet in the very center where a gorgeous fountain was found. Although the chaos was present wherever your eyes landed, you couldn’t help but be completely mesmerized by its unconventional yet natural beauty. 

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed. She motioned for the porch swing right beside the sliding doors, and you gladly took a seat as she joined you. “I’m glad you finally got the garden you wanted.”

With a gentle smile, she said, “It could not have been without you.”

You tried to ignore the swelling in your chest, though the smile that formed against your wishes betrayed you and your mother smiled a little wider though thankfully did not say anything for another long while. 

“Do you have anyone?”

The sudden question caused you to scoff, rolling your eyes before you could stop yourself. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she forced out through gritted teeth at your attitude, so you purse your lips as a silent apology. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Mom,” you sighed. “You know that I am not allowed to be dating as an idol.”

“Yes, that might be true,” she continued to insist. “But I am always reading about idols who date anyway.”

“And why are you able to read about it, Mom? Because they were either caught or because their companies allowed them to come out as taken.”

“Yes, yes,” she swatted her hands in the air as if physically dismissing your words. “Rules are only a suggestion, they can’t ultimately control you like that.”

At the words coming out of her mouth, you can’t help but chuckle breathlessly and glance up at the stars above as if they’d send some strength your way. The incongruity of her words almost made you want to laugh out loud. 

“You don’t understand, I could get fired if I am caught dating, and it has happened before.”

“At least listen to what I have to say,” she huffed stubbornly, and you sighed in defeat. “The reason why I bring this up is because I met with an old friend of mine from my youth—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hold on—”

“No, Mom, I am not meeting any sons of your friends.”

“Please!”

At her shout, you stopped yourself from responding any further, jaw clenched together in annoyance. In order to keep your composure, you turned your gaze towards the serene garden. 

“I met with a friend from my youth, and she has a son who is also an idol. I didn’t promise her anything, but I told her I would talk to you about it and if you agreed then you’d meet with the boy at the coffee shop two blocks away from here this Friday. Even if you’re concerned with your company firing you, which I doubt given your success, you can always just say you were meeting a friend instead of being on a date. There is really no harm in meeting one boy for your mother’s sake.”

“My answer is still no, I don’t want to—”

“Oh, Y/N, please! I don’t ask you for much—”

“No, Mom, you ask me for everything! It doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate all that you have done for me because I do, but my answer will still be a solid no.”

“So you would rather embarrass me?”

With an exasperated sigh, you look up at the stars once more, begging them to save you at this point. 

“You know what, fine,” you grit out, not bothering to hide your clear frustration. “But I will meet him only once and you will never bother me with this nonsense again.”

The beam that took over her expression would have been comical if you weren’t so exasperated with her. She hops to her feet in excitement, kissing your cheeks before rushing back inside to presumably tell your father about this. In the distance, you could hear her reminding you that the meeting would be this Friday at noon. 

Another sigh makes it past your lips, rubbing your temples before leaning back in your seat. 

The garden truly was beautiful, and the starry night sky was even more stunning. 

posted: 06 • 14 • 2024

💬 a note from green;

i broke up with my girlfriend today but we roll haha. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, more will be coming since i'm just going to throw myself into writing instead of coping because therapy is expensive and i don't want to.

( 🏷️ ) taglist: @agi-ppangx @jisunglyricist

Aw Merin :( You’re so sweet my goodness 😭 I’ll write something a little more comforting asap, trust 🤞

hi green, how are you doing ?? i hope everything’s alright<33

i hope you dont mind but i wanted to request something again >< i was wondering if you could write a smut with chan, but focus more on the aftercare ??

lets say he had a stressful week and during sex he decided to reselase his anger and stress on the reader, but they had a hard week themselves and just couldnt take it, so they decided to use their safeword and channie would be all like oh ?? and maybe the reader would even cry a little and be apologetic, because “i’m so sorry, i know you had a hard time, i just can’t do it today” saying that while clinging to him and seeking comfort >:((

and then chan would focus on making them feel safe, he would clean the up and reassure them that if completely fine and he's proud of them and just the whole aftercare part ><

if its too much then its completely fine !! please dont feel pressured to write it if its not your cup of tea<33

anyway, please take care !!😽

use of the safe word.

💭 GUIDELINES ‣ LIBRARY ‣ TAGLIST & ANONS ‣ IN PROGRESS ‣ REQUEST LIST ‣ PINNED

pairing: chan x female reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, rough and overwhelming sex, crying, bloody lip, aftercare, not proofread

rating: 18+

summary: chan had always been the sweetest human ever, but after you’d both had a rough week, you both find out that you had different ways of decompressing.

His fingers found their way to your throat while he groaned in your ear, squeezing in a way you usually adored as Chan thrusted in and out of you at a brutal pace. He was completely lost in his own world, moaning about how tight you felt around him and how he’d been thinking about having you like this all day after the stress he’s had to deal with over the course of several days. It was difficult to breathe for you, though, all of your senses seemingly going haywire as you attempted to ground yourself by gripping the sheets below you and trying to focus on his babbles of pleasure. However, instead of enjoying this moment with your lover like you normally would, your mind was a storm of frustration and stress that only increased with Chan’s speed.

It was too much for you — everything about this was overwhelming, including the guilt that followed your distressed thoughts. Chan had arrived home and immediately pulled you in for a rough kiss, and you had followed along because you were well aware of how rough it’s been for him recently and you figured you’d let him release it all on you before talking. Although nothing could’ve prepared you for the complete disconnect that plagued you — you didn’t feel seen or loved, he barely managed to remember some of the things he knew you liked while he chased his own orgasm. It wasn’t to say that he was doing it purposely, you knew that Chan loved you to insanity because this was strange for him.

Unwanted tears rolled down your cheeks, and you bit your lip harshly so as to not let him know of your state since his face was buried into the nape of your neck. His breath felt hot on your skin, and sharp pangs of pain shot up your body with each time Chan bottomed out. Your eyes were squeezed shut so as to prevent any more tears from spilling, and a whimper escaped your lips as your teeth broke skin.

Too much. Too much. I don’t like this!

Chan’s movements became slightly more erratic, which signifies that he was close to achieving his orgasm. But the room was spinning and you didn’t think you could take this roughness any longer.

“Channie, stop, stop, red light!”

All movements halted, dizzying you slightly. Chan pulled back immediately as his grip on your throat loosened and his eyes scanned your face with concern. The sobs were pushing their way out of you and the tears rolled down your cheeks freely and stained the pillow below your head. “I’m so sorry, Channie!”

“Oh— Wait, no, no don’t apologize,” Chan quickly responded, slowly pulling out of you so as to not overwhelm you further. His brows were furrowed, catching sight of your bloody bottom lip and your anguished expression. “What happened baby? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you continued to cry, your entire body shaking violently as you reached for your boyfriend. “I know you’ve been having a hard time, I just can’t take it today.”

He wrapped his muscled arms around your trembling body, kissing the top of your head as the beat of his heart seemed to ground you despite how erratic it was, bringing you back to reality. It was clear that he was still confused, and you were grateful that he wasn’t pushing for an explanation right away. Instead he shifted slightly so that he could place his calloused hand on your chest, applying a bit of pressure while inhaling and exhaling deeply. You followed his breathing pattern, slowly noticing that he’d pulled you into his lap at some point, cradling your body as though it was made of porcelain.

When your cries had slowed to a near stop, he moved his gaze onto your face — guilty eyes searching for any remaining distress. His thumb caressed your cheeks, drying your tears in the process as he attempted a soft smile.

“Baby?”

A shaky breath made its way past your lips, eyes glued to the crumpled sheets while you twiddle your thumbs in your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“No, angel, don’t apologize.” Chan spoke softly, yet his tone was stern. “Please don’t apologize, I’m proud of you for stopping me, okay?”

You could only nod meekly.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Nothing was said, but the shame arose in the form of choked sobs and Chan pulled you back onto his chest while rocking from side to side. His fingers carded through your hair gently as he hummed a nearly inaudible tune to calm you. This time, you were able to pull yourself quicker.

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” He didn’t wait for a response before he was lifting you up slightly and laying you on his side of your shared bed. The sound of his speedy footsteps that made their way to the kitchen were the only thing heard aside from your own ragged breathing.

You sat up when he returned with a cold glass of water in one hand and what looked like a warm, wet towel in the other. He handed you the water first, watching you intently as you hissed a bit as soon as your cut lip made contact with the coldness of your drink. You downed your drink in one go, your throat screeching in relief from how dry it had been until a moment ago.

“I’m going to clean you up a little bit, and then you should pee.”

His rough hands touched your shoulder lightly, nudging you so that you would lay back and spread your lips. The jolt that occurred as soon as you felt the warmth of the towel touch your core had your ears turning red in shame, you knew he wouldn’t purposely hurt you so there was no reason to act like this. You didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across his face.

As you peed, Chan was quietly filling up the bathtub and adding a lavender scented bath bomb to soothe your anxiety. You watched him work from the toilet in silence, lips set into a deep frown.

“It’s done baby,” Chan announced, turning to face you with a benign smile. “We should take care of your lip first though.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again as you pulled your knees up to your chest. “I haven’t done anything but add to your stress, and it shouldn’t have been like this. I could’ve lasted until you–”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Y/N.” Chan sounded so grave you couldn’t help but inhale sharply, eyes widening slightly. “Please don’t ever do that, we have a safe word for a reason. Always, always use it whenever you’re not having a good time. There’s really no hard feelings for me, what’s important for me is that you’re okay and that I don’t end up hurting you.”

You sniffed, bracing yourself as he neared you with a small cloth that had been dipped in antiseptics that made you hiss at the burn as soon as he dabbed it to your wound. He gently blew on your lip as an effort to lessen the pain.

“You’re so sweet to me.”

Chan pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering for a moment as if to make you feel his love through the simple action – and you did. A small smile made its way onto your face at last as his hands guided you to the bathtub, helping you get in before he knelt beside you.

The warmth of the deliciously scented water instantly relaxed your sore muscles, you sighed in relief. The light swishing sound of the water following your movements seemed to add to your newfound serenity, your eyes falling closed for only a second before the sense of something being missing began gnawing at your mind. You turned to find Chan sitting on the bathroom floor, eyes sparkling as he watched you while resting his chin on the edge of the bathtub. The corners of your mouth quirked up slightly at the sight, heart soaring.

“Join me.”

He shook his head, returning your smile.

“Channie,” you pouted. “You don’t have to feel guilty about what happened, I promised.”

He shook his head again, his smile remaining as he blinked rapidly as if to keep unshed tears at bay.

“Baby, please don’t feel guilty…you didn’t know.”

“No,” his voice cracked a bit. “I should’ve known, you bit your lip so hard you started bleeding. You were crying, you weren’t even able to tell me what happened. I should’ve noticed.”

Your hand touched the side of his face, droplets of water rolling down his smooth skin. “I should have told you I wasn’t okay as soon as I realized, baby. But we can still relax together, please, join me.”

Chan seemed hesitant for a few beats before sighing. He was already naked, so all he needed to do was take his place behind you. It was a tight fit, but you liked this kind of closeness as his arms wrapped themselves tightly around your torso and he rested his chin on your shoulder. Neither of you speak for a bit, basking in the tranquility of it all.

“I’m sorry.”

Not a word needed to be said, so you lifted his hand and kissed it once, twice, three times until he chuckled lightly. He pressed his own lips on your shoulder, and you felt a few tears grace the skin near his lips, so you reached up to his hair and scratched his head as a form of comfort.

“I knew that you were frustrated, stressed and all of that when you brought me to our room and I really thought I would be fine,” you finally explained, Chan had yet to remove his lips from you as he listened. “But I guess I didn’t take into consideration the shitty week I’ve been having too and it was just– a lot of it was just the new boss that arrived last Monday micromanaging every single breath I took, my workload was humongous compared to what I used to have before. He was so condescending, too, just doubting everything I said and asking my male coworkers to double check all the information I provided. I didn’t have a good time. And then we were having sex, and we barely exchanged a few words to each other before that, and it was just very overwhelming. I should’ve said something, so part of it was on me. I will make sure to be better next time, be more vocal about my needs and such.”

Chan lifted his head from your shoulder, cupping his hands to spill some of it onto your hair, massaging your scalp. “I’m sorry your new boss has been such an uptight dick all week…and I’m sorry I was so rough with you– especially without at least talking with you for a bit before, I’ll be sure to check in on you more often when we make love, especially if negative emotions are affecting either of us.”

“I really appreciate you, Channie.” You take his hands in yours, massaging them lightly and playing with his pretty fingers absentmindedly. “What about you, baby, what had you so worked up when you got here?”

Chan’s voice was soothing as he talked, the vibrations of his voice could be felt on his chest and it served as some kind of comforting sensation as you pressed yourself even more to him and closed your eyes.

word count: 1.9k 🛁 posted: 12 • 17 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for this request, Merin. This was such an unexpectedly healing experience for me, and I thank you for it. You’ve only made two requests, but I can tell you that I’ve grown to love when you do since you always ask for such touching topics that aren’t mentioned or discussed enough. So please, request however many times as you’d like!

I hope you’re doing well, and I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

( 🏷️ ) taglist: @grandpafelixx , @agi-ppangx

( 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 ): Release Date: Posted!

──★ 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔

❛ In which you’re the idol who somehow snatched the members of Enhypen’s heart at first sight.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 8.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This is my very first Enhypen request, thank you! This kind of trope is not one I'm used to, but I did my best so I hope it's good! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Love at first sight trope, Idol Y/N AU, inconsistent POV, lots of mentions of being stressed with work, Y/N in Jake’s piece has some negative opinions on the HYBE company (which doesn’t reflect my own personal opinions), Sunghoon's piece has brief mentions of being tipsy, Jake's is a one-sided enemies-to-lovers trope, Ni-ki doesn't actually interact with Y/N but trust that he's in love.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

Want to be alerted when I post this? Let me know in the comments so I can tag you!

❤️ THE PRICE OF PLEASURE ( xdinary heroes )

❛ When Jiseok and Jooyeon break your strict rule, you push the boundaries of your control and desire, navigating a thrilling interplay of discipline and pleasure as you mold their eager submission to your will.

𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐤 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 + female reader + 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧 ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.0k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 32 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Yet another amazing request made by the wonderful 🍀 Anon! This is probably the filthiest, things I've ever written. But I also feel like it's my absolute favorite! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, oral (male and female receiving), brief m x m action, voyeurism, Jooyeon is a major brat, Jooyeon and Gaon are both submissive, Reader is a control-obsessed dom, she's also soft sometimes, Gaon gets pegged, handjob, begging, crying (not really, but kinda), lots and lots of teasing, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

The familiar, rhythmic thud of your shoes hitting the floor echoed softly through the quiet apartment as you kicked them off, the sound oddly amplified in the stillness. A slight frown tugged at your lips, a whisper of confusion settling in as you took in the unexpected silence. Your home, usually alive with the vibrant energy of your boyfriends, was eerily calm, devoid of the usual symphony of laughter and banter that often greeted your return. It was odd, unsettling even, that this quiet was your welcome, especially since their shoes were already neatly lined by the door—a sign that they were home, yet nowhere to be seen.

With a gentle shrug, you slipped off your light jacket, the fabric brushing softly against your skin as you hung it on the coat rack. Your oversized work bag followed, its weight slipping from your shoulder with a familiar relief. As you stood there, the quiet pressing in around you, suspicion began to stir, a soft unease gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. Your gaze swept the room, searching for any sign of your lovers' presence, but the usual chaos they brought with them was conspicuously absent. The stillness felt like a lull before a storm, the kind of silence that Jiseok and Jooyeon could never maintain for long, especially when they were together, plotting their next mischievous escapade.

Faintly, like a whisper in the quiet, you caught the delicate sound of shuffling emanating from within your bedroom. The noise was subtle, almost hesitant, yet it pierced through the silence with a presence that demanded attention. Your eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring as you took in the unusual sight of your closed bedroom door—a rare occurrence in the sanctuary of your home. With a quiet resolve, you made your way toward the source of the sound, each step deliberate and silent as if the stillness of the apartment itself held its breath.

As you reached the door, your hand hesitated for the briefest moment before gently pushing it open. The scene that greeted you was one of raw, unapologetic intimacy, an almost obscene tableau that instantly commanded your full attention. There, perched at the edge of your shared bed, was Jooyeon, his slender frame glistening with a sheen of sweat. His head was thrown back in a wild surrender to pleasure, long strands of hair clinging to his damp, flushed skin, creating an image of untamed beauty. His face, scrunched up in ecstasy, betrayed the intense sensations coursing through him, every muscle in his body taut with the effort of holding on to the bliss that threatened to consume him.

Kneeling between Jooyeon’s trembling legs was Jiseok, his back turned to you, though the rhythmic bobbing of his head left no doubt about the intimate service he was providing. The sight of them together, lost in their own world of pleasure, was a potent mix of annoyance and arousal, each emotion vying for dominance within you. The lewd, wet sounds that filled the air only intensified the storm brewing inside, sending an intoxicating rush of heat through your veins. It was a moment suspended in time, one that held you captive, torn between the urge to interrupt and the desire to watch their passion unfold.

Deciding not to disturb their passionate moment, you chose instead to lean casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. There was a certain thrill in observing them unnoticed, your gaze sharp and unyielding as it fixed upon the scene unfolding before you. Curiosity sparked within, urging you to see just how long it would take for them to sense the weight of your stare, to feel the intensity of your presence as you watched, silent and unmoving.

Yet, as the seconds ticked by, that initial thrill began to sour, replaced by a simmering annoyance that crept into your chest. The longer you stood there, the more your irritation grew, gnawing at the edges of your patience. You had set rules for a reason—clear, firm boundaries that all of you had agreed upon, understanding the importance of maintaining balance within your dynamic. One of those rules was simple, yet essential: neither of them was allowed to indulge in pleasure without your explicit permission, particularly when you had made your desires known. You had been crystal clear, even taking the time to send a message in the group chat before leaving work, outlining exactly how you wanted them.

But as you stood there, a sudden realization struck you with infuriating clarity. Technically, they weren’t breaking any rules, and the thought sent a fresh wave of irritation coursing through you. You could vividly recall the exact phrasing you had used: "Neither of you can give yourselves pleasure without my explicit permission, especially if I tell you that I want you beforehand." The loophole they had exploited now seemed glaringly obvious, and a bitter scoff nearly escaped your lips. They weren't seeking pleasure from themselves but from each other—a clever, if maddening, twist on your words.

The knowledge that they had found a way around your rule, skirting the edges of defiance while technically staying within the bounds you had set, only fueled your growing annoyance. Yet, beneath that annoyance, there was a grudging admiration for their audacity, for the way they had turned your own rule against you. It was a delicate dance of power and submission, one that you were determined to reclaim control over, even as you continued to watch, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension.

As if finally attuned to the simmering tension in the room, Jooyeon’s pleasure-clouded eyes fluttered open, locking onto your unyielding stare. For a brief moment, his gaze remained unfocused, lost in the haze of the moment, but then recognition dawned, widening his eyes in a sudden panic. In a frantic rush, he pushed Jiseok away, his movements clumsy with urgency. Jiseok, still caught in the throes of their intimacy, mumbled something unintelligible, his voice muffled by the lingering taste of Jooyeon's desire. It wasn’t until he followed Jooyeon’s gaze that the gravity of the situation fully hit him. His own eyes went wide, a deep flush of anxiety spreading across his face, the earlier confidence replaced by a palpable unease.

Despite the tumultuous swirl of emotions churning within you, you maintained a veneer of calm as you slowly pushed yourself off the doorframe. Your movements were deliberate, calculated, as you made your way to a plush chair nestled in the furthest corner of the room. The sharp edge in your voice betrayed the storm beneath your composed exterior as you spoke, “Don’t let me interrupt your fun,” you said, the words slicing through the thick silence like a blade. 

Settling into the chair with an elegance that belied the intensity of the moment, you crossed one leg over the other, the smooth motion a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere. Your fingers intertwined with a practiced grace, resting casually on your lap, though there was nothing casual about the undercurrent of displeasure in your tone. "Clearly, I’m not needed here," you continued, the bitterness in your words hanging in the air like a challenge, daring them to refute it. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of your presence, the earlier intimacy now overshadowed by the unspoken tension that filled the space between you.

While Jiseok, ever the more submissive of the two, began to pathetically crawl across the floor toward you, his movements were slow and deliberate, as if each inch he gained was a testament to his regret. When he finally reached you, he positioned himself on his knees, his arms wrapping around your legs in a desperate embrace. His head bowed low, resting against your lap, he mumbled a stream of breathless apologies, each word laced with a whine that betrayed his mounting anxiety. His voice was a soft, trembling plea for forgiveness, and though his presence was tangible, your gaze remained fixed elsewhere.

Your attention was locked on Jooyeon, whose unwavering stare met yours with a defiant glint. His eyes, dark and challenging, held none of the remorse that Jiseok so readily displayed. Instead, there was a boldness in his gaze, a spark of rebellion that was all too familiar. It wasn’t unexpected—Jooyeon had always possessed an uncanny ability to push your limits, a relentless determination to test your patience at every turn. The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips was a silent taunt, an invitation to the game he so loved to play. 

He knew you too well, knew precisely which buttons to press and when to press them. It was a dance you had performed countless times before, each step choreographed with an intimacy that came from understanding the deepest corners of each other's minds. Yet, despite knowing how the game would play out, despite the simmering frustration that he always managed to evoke within you, there was a part of you that couldn't help but admire his audacity. It was infuriating, maddening even, but there was also something intoxicating about the way he challenged you, the way he thrived on eliciting a reaction.

Jooyeon's defiance was a fire that refused to be extinguished, a flame that burned with a heat that could either consume or ignite something within you. And as you stared into his eyes, a silent battle waging between the two of you, the familiar thrill of the challenge began to stir within your chest, mingling with the annoyance that his stubbornness always managed to evoke. It was a complex dance of power and submission, one that neither of you were willing to lose.

“Please,” Jiseok’s voice quivered with desperation, his fingers curling around the hem of your shirt as if clinging to a lifeline. His plea was laced with a raw vulnerability, an attempt to capture your attention, to divert your gaze from the other boy who remained rooted in defiant stillness. For a long moment, you ignored him, your eyes fixed on Jooyeon, who hadn't moved an inch. But eventually, the pitiful weight of Jiseok’s words pulled you down to him, your gaze dropping to meet his flushed, guilt-ridden face. His cheeks were stained a deep crimson, the color of shame, and his eyes glistened with regret that bordered on desperation.

“I told Jooyeon it wasn’t a good idea, but he still made me do it,” Jiseok murmured, his voice wavering as he sought to absolve himself, to shift the blame onto the unyielding figure across the room. His words, however, were met with a sharp scoff from Jooyeon, who rolled his eyes with a mixture of disdain and amusement. The smirk that played on his lips was almost cruel in its satisfaction as he cut through Jiseok’s attempt at innocence with biting clarity.

“Don’t act all innocent, Ji. You weren’t too hard to convince,” Jooyeon’s voice dripped with mocking amusement, the casual dismissal of Jiseok’s plea only deepening the tension in the room. Your eyes narrowed, fixing on Jiseok, who recoiled slightly under your scrutinizing gaze. The groveling man at your feet cast a quick, venomous glare in Jooyeon’s direction before returning his pleading eyes to you, a silent appeal for mercy.

The sight of them, one defiant and the other groveling, was almost too much to bear. You could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all—the way Jiseok's desperate attempts to escape blame were so easily dismantled by Jooyeon’s unrelenting honesty. Yet, you held back, determined to maintain your composure. With a deliberate, gentle firmness, you pushed Jiseok away, his fingers slipping from your shirt as you created a space between your bodies. The movement was final, a quiet assertion of your control, a reminder that you would not be swayed by pitiful apologies or manipulative tactics.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Your voice cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and unwavering. You raised an eyebrow, your gaze flickering between the two men, each of them a stark contrast to the other in their response. Jooyeon, ever the defiant one, met your challenge with a smirk that played at the corners of his lips. He shifted his weight, leaning back onto his elbows with a casual arrogance, his eyes drifting lazily toward Jiseok as if the entire situation were nothing more than an amusing game.

Jiseok, in stark contrast, remained at your feet, his frown deepening as he absorbed the weight of your words. The air between you all was thick with unspoken tension, the power dynamic shifting and settling as you held their gazes, one after the other. Jooyeon’s smirk widened, his expression one of almost mocking confidence as he finally broke the silence, his voice laced with a taunting edge.

You let the silence hang for a beat, your patience wearing thin. “Don’t let me interrupt your fun,” you added, the words laced with a subtle yet unmistakable edge. Your gaze remained steady, shifting between them, watching their reactions with a mixture of frustration and control. The defiance in Jooyeon’s posture only seemed to grow stronger under your scrutiny, while Jiseok’s frown deepened, his eyes flickering with unease. 

The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, each of you aware of the delicate balance of power at play. Your words, though calmly spoken, carried an undercurrent of authority that left no room for misinterpretation.

Jiseok resumed his position at your feet, his fingers trembling slightly as they fisted the hem of your shirt once more. His bottom lip jutted out in a desperate pout, the very picture of contrition. As you gazed down at him, his remorse was palpable, almost tangible in the way his eyes pleaded for forgiveness. The sight of him, so earnestly regretful, caused something within you to soften, a crack in the armor of your stern resolve.

Yet, you knew better than to let that moment of tenderness sway your judgment. Judging by the way Jooyeon had reacted to your earlier command to continue with his naughty activities, you understood that simply ordering them to proceed wouldn’t serve as the true punishment Jooyeon needed. He thrived on defiance, on pushing boundaries, and you were all too aware that he wouldn’t be so easily subdued. 

With a gentle sigh, you leaned back into your seat, allowing your expression to shift from stern to sympathetic as your focus returned to the older boy at your feet. The transformation was subtle yet deliberate, a calculated move meant to comfort Jiseok, whose guilt was as evident as the tears brimming in his eyes. Your index finger curled beneath his chin, tilting his face upward to meet your gaze. The touch was soft, almost tender, and your thumb traced the contour of his chin with a gentleness that belied the authority you wielded.

“Do you feel guilty, Ji?” you cooed, your voice a soothing balm against the tension that still lingered in the air. 

His response was immediate, his head nodding with such fervor that it almost seemed frantic. “So, so sorry!” he gasped, his voice a breathless plea, and you could see the sliver of hope flickering in his eyes at your sudden change in demeanor.

The shift in your tone and touch was deliberate, designed to draw him closer, to offer him a glimpse of redemption. The power dynamic was clear, but in this moment, it was laced with a tenderness that made Jiseok’s heart swell with a desperate need to earn back your favor. And as you looked into his eyes, you could see that your calculated change in approach had taken its desired effect, planting the seed of hope within him while still maintaining the control you so deftly wielded.

“Hmmm,” you murmur thoughtfully, your voice a soft, velvety purr as you release Jiseok’s face from your gentle hold. Your fingers linger for a moment, caressing his skin with a lingering warmth that belied the sternness in your gaze. “If you show me just how sorry you are—by pleasuring me properly, eating me with the devotion I deserve—I might just consider showing you a bit of mercy. Does that sound fair, baby?”

Jiseok’s eyes widened, a glimmer of eager anticipation flashing in their depths. His excitement is almost palpable as he nods vigorously, his expression one of hopeful desperation. Without hesitation, he begins his task, his hands trembling slightly as he grips the waistband of your pants and underwear. With your assistance, he pulls the fabric down to your ankles, his movements urgent and precise.

Once you’ve kicked off the restrictive garments, a sigh escapes your lips, a sound of both relief and satisfaction. You stretch out your legs, opening them with a deliberate and inviting ease, presenting yourself to your eager lover. The warm glow of the nightstand lamps casts a golden sheen over your exposed core, highlighting the glistening wetness that betrays your arousal. The soft light creates a shimmering effect, making your desire all the more visible and enticing.

You catch the subtle, involuntary swallow that ripples through Jooyeon’s throat as he watches the scene unfold, his gaze fixed intently on the sight before him. His reaction is immediate, a clear indication of the effect the display has on him. The moment Jiseok’s eyes fall upon your aroused core, he emits a low, reverent moan, the sound reverberating with a mixture of lust and devotion. The interplay of your body’s response and Jiseok’s eager obedience creates a charged atmosphere, one that only serves to heighten the tension and excitement in the room.

Jiseok didn’t hesitate for a moment, his lips moving with an urgent, fervent need as he traced a path of wet, eager kisses up your inner thighs. Each kiss was imbued with a desperate longing, a tactile promise of the pleasure that awaited. The sensation of his lips against your sensitive skin sent a thrilling jolt of anticipation straight into your abdomen, making your heartbeat quicken with fervor.

When his lips finally reached your aching core, he paused for a brief, tantalizing moment, inhaling the intoxicating, familiar scent of your arousal. The air seemed to crackle with charged energy as he savored the moment, his breath warm and teasing against your skin. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he pressed a soft, reverent kiss onto your sensitive folds. The simple, yet profound contact elicited a shuddered gasp from you, a sound that seemed to resonate deeply within him, filling him with a sense of satisfaction and boldness.

Spurred on by your reaction, Jiseok’s tongue emerged, expertly gliding between your folds with a practiced, skilled touch. The sensation was electric, a wave of intense pleasure that made your fingers instinctively curl into his hair, gripping him tightly. The pressure of your touch was a firm reminder of who held the reins, a detail that elicited a delicious, vibrating moan from Jiseok. The sound reverberated through your core, amplifying the pleasure and creating a symphony of sensations that left you craving more.

Having Jiseok in this submissive, eager state was pure bliss—his compliance and desperation to please made every moment feel like a heavenly indulgence. His willingness to cater to your desires, his every action steeped in devotion and need, transformed the experience into something both transcendent and intimately fulfilling.

After a few moments of surrendering to the intoxicating pleasure Jiseok’s exquisite mouth was bestowing upon you, you reluctantly shifted your gaze toward your other, more rebellious lover. The sight that met your eyes was both captivating and gratifying—Jooyeon, breathless and visibly disheveled, was gripping the bedsheets with such intensity that his knuckles had turned a stark, ghostly white. The raw desperation etched on his face sent a shiver of dark satisfaction coursing through your veins.

You allowed a smirk to curl at the corners of your lips, a reflection of the wicked pleasure you took in his discomfiture. The dark gleam in your eyes only seemed to heighten his arousal, and you could see the effect it had on him. The twitch of his length was unmistakable, a physical testament to the intense frustration and yearning that had been stoked by your presence and actions.

It dawned on you then that his own pleasure had been sharply interrupted by your control, leaving him in a state of aching need. The realization brought a dark, amused chuckle to your lips, a sound that was both cruel and deeply satisfying. The thought that his own arousal was teetering on the edge of painful necessity was a delicious detail you couldn’t help but relish. Each twitch and shudder of his body was a testament to your dominance, a reminder of just how effectively you could manipulate and captivate him.

A surprising jolt of pleasure suddenly pulls your focus away from Jooyeon, drawing your attention back to Jiseok. A moan escapes your lips, filled with both surprise and delight, as you become acutely aware of his expert touch. Jiseok’s fingertips, deft and determined, trace gentle circles over your sensitive nub, while his tongue thrusts rhythmically in and out of your sopping core. His eyes, locked onto your face, gleam with a quiet pride, a testament to his satisfaction in his performance.

Unable to contain your tender response, you smile gently at him, your expression softening with affection. You move the hand that had been resting in his hair to cup his cheek, your thumb caressing him with a tenderness that contrasts the intensity of the moment. At your touch, Jiseok leans into your hand, his body vibrating with a contented hum that resonates through your core. The sensation of his submission and his willingness to please you fills your heart with an overwhelming, indescribable affection.

Despite his habitual mischief, Jiseok was always remarkably attentive when it mattered most. The realization of his devotion intensifies with each stroke of his tongue against the sensitive spot within you, pushing you to a new peak of pleasure. The thought of his unwavering care, despite his playful nature, amplifies your desire. As his tongue finds that sweet, sensitive spot once more, another moan escapes you, and you tighten your grip on his hair, urging him deeper into your pleasure. The combination of his devoted touch and your commanding presence creates a profound sense of intimacy and connection, one that transcends the physical and speaks to the core of your bond.

Jooyeon’s voice abruptly sliced through the bubble of pleasure enveloping you, his tone cracking with a desperate need that belied his attempt at nonchalance. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the arch of your back, each shudder of pleasure that coursed through you a vivid display of your intense enjoyment. He clutched the sheets beneath him with a fierce grip, as if they were a lifeline holding him in place. You couldn’t help but marvel at his endurance, the way he had resisted the urge to touch himself despite the tormenting frustration. It was a feat that both intrigued and impressed you, though you had no intention of voicing your admiration.

Your gaze flickered toward him, though the image before you was slightly blurred by the overwhelming bliss Jiseok was bestowing upon you. “I’m sorry,” Jooyeon repeated, his voice trembling with raw desperation. This time, the veneer of composure was gone, stripped away by the intensity of his need. As you rolled your hips against Jiseok’s face, using his hair to keep him securely in place, Jooyeon’s eyes grew darker, reflecting a potent mix of longing and frustration.

Jiseok, seemingly lost in the haze of his own desire, groaned deeply into your core, the sound vibrating through you and sending another wave of ecstatic pleasure that left you gasping for breath. His focus remained fixed on you, almost as if Jooyeon’s presence had faded into the background of his single-minded devotion.

When you remained silent in response to Jooyeon’s repeated apologies, he insisted with a fervent plea, “I won’t do it again, I promise.” The desperation in his voice was palpable, the feeling of exclusion starting to gnaw at him just as you had intended. The sight of him, so vulnerable and yearning, was a stark contrast to the pleasure Jiseok continued to deliver, adding another layer of intense satisfaction to the scene unfolding before you.

“No,” you pant, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as you lick your lips, the taste of desire lingering on your tongue. Your senses are acutely tuned to the sensations enveloping you; you can feel the sweat that has formed a slick sheen over your body, glistening almost sensually under the soft, amber glow of the nightstand lamps. These lamps cast a warm, inviting light across the otherwise darkened expanse of your bedroom, creating an intimate cocoon that frames the scene with a seductive allure.

Your gaze remains fixed on Jooyeon’s eyes, now clouded with a mixture of longing and frustration. He pants softly, his breaths uneven as he watches the unfolding scene with an almost entranced expression. As you teeter on the precipice of climax, the tightening in your lower abdomen grows almost unbearable. “It’s too late to apologize now, Joo,” you manage to murmur through your heightened pleasure, your voice quivering with the effort to maintain control.

A sharp inhale escapes you as Jiseok’s fingers dig into your thighs, his nails pressing into your soft skin with a possessive grip meant to keep you firmly in place. Momentarily distracted by the intensity of his touch, you reach for his wrists with both hands, holding them with a firm grip as you cast him a warning glare. He should know better than to assume any form of control at this moment; not to mention, you rarely enjoyed the sensation of being confined.

Jiseok’s eyes flicker with a silent apology, a wordless acknowledgment of your unspoken command. Once you see the understanding in his gaze, you release his wrists, allowing your hands to return to his hair. With renewed focus, you guide him back to your core, trapping his head in a vice of pleasure. The intimate connection between you both is palpable, a dance of control and surrender that continues to heighten the ecstasy of the moment.

Your gaze shifted once more, catching Jooyeon leaning forward with renewed intensity, his posture straightening in a futile attempt to catch a better glimpse of your aching core as it lay exposed over Jiseok’s head. A sharp, almost cruel snort escaped you, the sound dripping with mockery. “You should have taken a page from your older brother’s book when you had the chance,” you taunted, your voice edged with a playful disdain as you observed Jooyeon’s sulking reaction to your words. “Now, you’ll have to wait until he’s finished eating his dinner before I deal with you.”

As another moan erupted from your lips—a primal, guttural sound that hung heavily in the air—you began to assert control over the rhythm, your thighs clenching around Jiseok’s head with a firm, possessive grip. Your hips moved with a desperate, relentless pace, rolling back and forth with an urgent, almost frenzied rhythm. The vibrations of Jiseok’s own moans and groans reverberated through you, amplifying the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

With a final, shuddering groan that punctuated your climax, you allowed the intense waves of euphoria to envelop you. Slowly, you adjusted the pace, easing into a more languid rhythm as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm. Eventually, you released Jiseok from your iron grip, his head slipping free from between your thighs.

He didn’t retreat immediately. Instead, he lingered, his lips pressing a firm yet tender kiss onto your highly sensitive core, which elicited a slight flinch from you. Despite the delicate sensation, you managed a tired smile in response, your breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts as you leaned back into your seat, savoring the residual echoes of your pleasure.

The sound of Jooyeon’s moans, mingled with the sight of his desperate gaze, registered in the periphery of your consciousness as you briefly closed your eyes. You took a moment to bask in the relief that Jiseok, ever the attentive lover, had provided to your once-aching arousal. The pleasure had been both intense and satisfying, a balm to the tension that had built up throughout your demanding day at work.

Yet, you didn’t let yourself linger in this moment of indulgence for too long. The awareness of what needed to be done next urged you to refocus. Once your breathing had steadied, your eyes fluttered open, and you straightened up, positioning yourself to face your lovers with renewed determination.

Jiseok remained on the floor before you, now seated with a look of serene satisfaction on his face. He was diligently engaged in cleaning your sticky arousal from his face, his tongue working with practiced precision. The sight of his dedication only heightened your sense of control and satisfaction.

Across the room, Jooyeon was a study in frustrated yearning. His thighs rubbed together in a subtle, almost desperate search for friction, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of envy and longing. The expression on his face was almost palpable, an unspoken plea for attention. You couldn't help but let out a dark, amused laugh at the contrast between Jiseok’s contented diligence and Jooyeon’s evident jealousy. The dynamic between the two was both intoxicating and thrilling, adding another layer of complexity to the scene before you.

You steadied yourself, carefully concealing the tremor in your legs from the recent climax, unwilling to let even a hint of vulnerability disrupt the commanding presence you needed to maintain. The image you projected was crucial for the next phase of your plan, one that was designed to bring your bratty, rebellious lover, Jooyeon, to his knees in submission—just as you intended. While Jooyeon had mastered the art of pushing your buttons, you, too, had accumulated a repertoire of strategies throughout your time with both him and Jiseok.

A smirk curled at the corners of your lips as this thought crossed your mind, a glimmer of mischief dancing in your eyes. You moved with deliberate grace, passing by Jiseok, who continued his focused task with a look of serene satisfaction. Your path led directly to the nightstand on your side of the expansive bed, where a carefully curated collection of sensual toys awaited. The gleam of anticipation in your gaze reflected off the polished surface of the nightstand as you approached, each item meticulously arranged to cater to your desires.

The nightstand’s contents were a testament to your intricate understanding of pleasure and control, each piece chosen to further your goals of domination and indulgence. As you reached for the drawer, the soft click of its opening echoed through the room, adding a layer of expectation to the already charged atmosphere.

You could feel their gazes burning into your skin, each pair of eyes following your every movement with a palpable intensity. Yet, you remained unperturbed, your focus entirely on the task at hand. With deliberate precision, you retrieved the harnesses of your strap, your fingers moving with practiced ease. The ritual of preparation was almost meditative, each action underscoring your dominance and control.

Once the harness was secured in place, you methodically sifted through your collection before finding what you were looking for: Jiseok's favorite dildo. The bright blue silicone toy, vivid and unmistakable, emerged from the drawer. The sight of it elicited a giddy gasp from Jiseok, a sound that was quickly followed by Jooyeon’s mocking snort. The derisive noise only served to widen your smirk, a silent promise of what was to come. You knew Jooyeon’s bravado would soon crumble, but you kept this insight to yourself, letting the anticipation build.

With practiced movements, you secured the toy onto the strap, the click of the mechanism echoing softly in the room. You retrieved a half-empty bottle of lube and tossed it onto the bed with a casual flick of your wrist. Amidst the array of items, you unearthed two pairs of handcuffs from the very bottom of the drawer, a rarely used accessory that now seemed perfectly suited for your purpose. You held them up with a faint smirk, their cold metal glinting under the dim light.

A voice, dazed with anticipation, broke the charged silence. “Are you tying me up?” Jiseok’s voice was closer than before, and you turned to see him resting on the bed behind Jooyeon, his eyes alight with excitement. You chuckled softly at the eagerness evident in his expression, shaking your head as you retrieved a black blindfold from the drawer. The soft rustle of fabric was the only sound as you closed the drawer, tossing the handcuffs and blindfold onto the bed with casual grace.

“Our dear Joo hasn’t been behaving well, remember?” Your voice was a silk thread of menace woven with amusement. Jiseok’s eyes widened as the implications of your words sank in, his gaze shifting to meet Jooyeon’s. Despite the undercurrent of anxiety, there was an undeniable spark of thrill in Jooyeon’s eyes, a fleeting but telling sign of the complex mix of emotions stirring within him.

After taking a final inventory of the items you had meticulously prepared, you positioned yourself before Jooyeon. The room was thick with anticipation as you stood with an air of authority, your hands confidently resting on your hips. The strap, securely fastened and perfectly aligned, hovered enticingly at the level of Jooyeon’s mouth.

Jooyeon gazed up at you, a picture of almost vulnerable apprehension. His eyes, though defiant, betrayed a flicker of unease as they tracked the motion of your strap. Behind him, Jiseok’s head emerged, his eyes wide with a mixture of eagerness and longing, reflecting the soft glow of the room’s lighting.

When Jooyeon remained motionless and silent, you couldn’t suppress a playful smirk. You raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, the gesture both questioning and taunting. “Oh, Joo,” you chided with a tone dripping in feigned disapproval. You shook your head lightly, the movement deliberate and filled with a touch of disappointment. “Are you really going to make me do all the work? I thought you were sorry.”

Your words were laced with clear mockery, and the way Jooyeon’s eyes narrowed subtly in response confirmed that he had picked up on your teasing. The room's atmosphere was charged with the tension of your challenge, each breath and glance heightening the sense of anticipation and control.

Given Jooyeon’s persistent stubbornness, you let out a resigned sigh, signaling Jiseok to assist you in guiding Jooyeon deeper onto the expansive mattress. Jooyeon, showing no resistance to the shift, allowed himself to be maneuvered into position. You ensured he was properly angled against the cool metal bars of the headboard, which elicited a faint wince from him as the chill of the contact met his skin.

Ignoring the fleeting reaction, you proceeded with practiced precision. You handed Jiseok one of the handcuffs, the cold metal gleaming in the dim light, while you retained the other. With swift, deliberate movements, you secured Jooyeon’s wrist to the headboard, the clink of the cuffs breaking the room's heavy silence. As you completed the task, you deftly placed the blindfold over Jooyeon’s eyes, his vision swallowed by the soft, dark fabric. The blindfold, with its promise of obscurity, heightened the anticipation of the moment.

Jiseok, finding the scenario both entertaining and gratifying, let out a light-hearted giggle. His amusement was palpable, a sharp contrast to Jooyeon's subdued state. Following your subtle command, Jiseok positioned himself beneath Jooyeon's bent legs with eager compliance, a reflection of his own excitement.

Turning your gaze back to Jooyeon, you let your voice carry a blend of authority and curiosity. “Joo,” you began, your tone both commanding and contemplative. “You apologized to me earlier. What was it you were apologizing for, hmm?” The question hung in the air, a tantalizing blend of reprimand and intrigue, as you awaited his response.

At your question, Jooyeon huffed in exasperation, the sound betraying his simmering frustration. His arousal, already a deep, agonized red, leaked persistently, the tip glistening with the evidence of his prolonged neglect. It was clear how desperately he had been yearning for release, having restrained himself in hopes of finding favor with you through his own unique, if misguided, penitence.

A flicker of sympathy might have crossed your mind, recognizing the restraint he had exercised. It was evident how much self-discipline it had taken for him to refrain from touching himself, despite the visual and auditory cues of your pleasure. Yet, your resolve remained steadfast as you waited for his response, your demeanor unwavering and authoritative.

With a measured motion, you squeezed a generous amount of lube onto your hand, the slick, cool substance glistening under the soft illumination of the room. You stroked your silicone length with deliberate, smooth motions, the sensation sending a shiver of anticipation through you. The rhythmic motion of your hand was met with a shuddering breath from Jooyeon, his blindfolded eyes unable to witness the source of his torment.

"I'm sorry," he finally gasped, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. "I was sorry for breaking your rule. I—I was being a brat." His words were choked with a mixture of regret and desperation, the sound of his voice mingling with the slick sounds of your movements.

A satisfied hum escaped your lips, the sound a testament to his confession meeting your expectations. You applied another generous amount of lube, this time to your index and middle fingers, preparing them for what was to come. With a silent nod towards Jiseok, who eagerly complied, you watched as he spread his legs wide, presenting himself with an eager readiness that mirrored his excitement.

“Hmm,” you mused aloud, your fingers hovering tantalizingly close to Jiseok’s entrance. The anticipation in the room was palpable, a shimmering thread of tension binding everyone present. Jiseok quivered beneath you, his body trembling with eagerness, while Jooyeon, bound and blindfolded, writhed restlessly against the confines of his restraints.

Your fingers, poised with a deliberate slowness, lingered just at the edge of Jiseok’s entrance. The air was thick with expectancy, each breath drawn in sharp, shivering gasps. Jooyeon, his senses heightened by the blindfold, could only guess at what was to come. The sound of his shallow breathing and the restless shifting of his bound form spoke volumes of his eagerness.

“No,” Jooyeon’s voice was a desperate whisper, his head shaking in frantic agreement. “No, I won’t do it again.” His words came out in hurried breaths, a mixture of surrender and pleading lacing his tone. The intensity of his response was matched only by the fervent anticipation emanating from Jiseok, who continued to tremble beneath your careful touch.

Satisfied with Jooyeon's desperate response, you finally yielded to Jiseok’s eager pleas. Slowly, deliberately, you began to insert your index finger into Jiseok’s warm, inviting entrance. The sensation was exquisite, the tightness enveloping your finger as Jiseok emitted a guttural, primal moan that resonated with pure, unrestrained pleasure. You paused for a moment, allowing him to adjust to the intrusion, savoring the way his body tensed and then relaxed in response.

Your attention drifted to Jooyeon, who squirmed restlessly against the headboard, his hips lifting in a desperate, silent plea. The blindfold covering his eyes rendered him unaware of the intimate scene unfolding right before him, intensifying his frustration. A cruel, mocking smile curled on your lips as you watched his futile attempts to seek out the touch he craved so badly. His blindfolded eyes fluttered, and his body writhed in vain.

You began a slow, rhythmic motion, your finger moving in and out of Jiseok with deliberate care. Each thrust drew soft, breathy whimpers from Jiseok, turning him into a trembling mess of pleasure. Meanwhile, Jooyeon’s frustration grew palpable, his jealousy a stark contrast to the pleasure Jiseok was receiving. 

With a hint of mockery in your voice, you leaned closer to Jooyeon, who could only hear the sound of your voice and the relentless moans of Jiseok. “Aw, baby,” you cooed, dripping with sarcasm. “Did you really think I would give you what you wanted so easily after the stunt you pulled?” The tone of your voice was both taunting and authoritative, ensuring Jooyeon felt every ounce of the frustration you intended to impart.

Jooyeon finally broke the silence with a pitiful whine that seemed to escape from deep within him, the sound stretching and echoing through the room as if it had been held captive for an eternity. His hips shifted restlessly, seeking out your touch in vain, but he could only fumble in frustration, unable to find the relief he so desperately craved.

Meanwhile, you had slid your middle finger into Jiseok’s tight, welcoming entrance, the additional intrusion causing him to shudder in heightened ecstasy. His moans grew louder, more intense, each sound a testament to the pleasure you were bestowing upon him. The contrast between Jiseok’s blissful surrender and Jooyeon’s growing frustration was striking, almost painterly in its stark divergence. It was a tableau of sensory extremes that you found almost intoxicating—so vivid, so compelling that you wished you could etch it permanently behind your eyelids.

“That’s not fair!” Jooyeon’s voice pierced the air, slightly shriller than usual, laced with a mix of desperation and indignation. “I apologized! I apologized many times!” Even though the blindfold shielded his eyes, you could almost see the frustration etched into his features, the crinkle of his brows and the relentless squirming of his restrained body.

The room was filled with the slick, obscene sounds of your lubed fingers working within Jiseok, the rhythmic, wet noises a stark contrast to Jooyeon’s pained, futile attempts to find solace. Each sound seemed to amplify Jooyeon’s discomfort, his length twitching in response to the overwhelming mix of envy and unfulfilled desire. You could hardly contain a dark chuckle, your amusement palpable as you reveled in his distress, savoring the sight of his suffering as he continued to be left wanting.

Gradually, your gaze shifted towards Jiseok, who lay beneath you, flushed a deep, fervent crimson from the intensity of the minimal stimulation he had already received. His body was a canvas of shimmering sweat and eager anticipation. With a voice that was a gentle contrast to the sharpness you had shown Jooyeon, you asked, “Do you think you’re ready, baby? Can you take me now?”

Jiseok’s response was a frantic nod, his legs curling around your waist in a desperate attempt to draw you closer to where he craved you the most. His movements were filled with an urgency that matched his need. However, you pulled your fingers out of him with deliberate slowness, gently unlocking his legs from around you. His whimper of disappointment was almost a silent plea, a sound that tugged at the edges of your satisfaction.

You guided him onto his stomach with a soft, yet firm motion, his compliance immediate and obedient. As he settled beneath you, you draped yourself over his slick, heated body, savoring the intimate contact. To intensify Jooyeon’s torment, you carefully repositioned Jiseok’s hands so they gripped Jooyeon’s ankles, a gesture of silent command. The slight pressure you applied to his wrists was a clear, unspoken instruction to keep them firmly in place.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you finally pushed your strap into Jiseok’s yearning entrance. His moan, raw and unrestrained, was the loudest you had heard throughout the evening. The sound was a heady mix of pleasure and relief, and you had barely begun to move. The thought swelled your ego, a silent triumph that danced across your features as you watched Jooyeon’s escalating frustration.

Jooyeon thrashed against his restraints, his pleas and apologies, a chaotic blend of desperation. “It hurts,” he cried, his voice breaking with the weight of his need. “Please, it hurts so much. I’m sorry, please!” His incoherent babbling and fervent promises of never repeating his misstep only served to deepen your satisfaction, his desperation a stark contrast to the pleasure you were bestowing upon Jiseok.

After a lingering moment in which you savored the sight of Jooyeon collapsing under the weight of his own frustration, you decided to extend your reach. Your fingers, slick with remnants of dry lube, moved deliberately towards his aching, neglected length. The moment your hand made contact, Jooyeon released a relieved sob, his hips instinctively thrusting into your touch, desperate for the attention he had been deprived of for so long.

The sound of his reaction elicited a genuine chuckle from you, a soft contrast to the earlier cruelty that had colored your interactions. As you continued to stroke him, your touch infused with a tenderness that belied the harshness of the earlier moments, you felt a surge of genuine endearment towards him. You let the pace of your hips gradually quicken, each thrust causing Jiseok’s trembling form to jolt in sync, his moans and whimpers barely a murmur against the overwhelming symphony of pleasure filling the room.

The scene was intoxicating, a vivid tableau of sensual surrender and trust. Both of your lovers were lost in their own realms of ecstasy, unraveling completely at your touch. They lay exposed, their deepest vulnerabilities laid bare before you, their trust in you evident in their complete submission. It was an honor so profound that words would fail to capture its essence. Instead, you chose to express your appreciation through this intimate exchange, allowing them to reveal their rawest selves in the hope that you would tend to their needs with the care and devotion they craved.

Given the intensity of their prolonged arousal, it was no surprise when you felt Jooyeon’s length twitch uncontrollably, a testament to the desperate pleasure you were bestowing upon him. His whines and groans, long stifled, now spilled forth in a chorus of longing. Simultaneously, Jiseok’s moans grew more frequent and pitched, a high, trembling note of his own impending release. Both of them, on the precipice of their climax, were eagerly pushing their needy forms against you, their bodies seeking the final, elusive touch that would drive them to the edge.

The effort you were putting into their pleasure had begun to weigh on you, a dull ache settling into your muscles from the relentless movements. Yet, the sight and sounds of their need kept you going, your resolve unwavering as you continued to give them what they craved. The room was filled with the heady mix of their desperate cries and the rhythmic pace of your motions, a testament to the shared, mounting ecstasy.

It wasn’t long before their bodies surged against you in a final, coordinated dance towards release. Their moans crescendoed into prolonged, melodic expressions of pure bliss, a symphony of gratification that left both men trembling and breathless. As their climaxes unfolded, you gradually eased to a halt, your own breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. You pulled away from them slowly, allowing them to experience the last shudders of their aftershocks. The intimate silence that followed was filled with the echoes of their satisfaction, a profound testament to the intensity of the shared experience.

As your breaths gradually steadied and your heart rate returned to a more manageable pace, you surrendered to the softness of the mattress beneath you with a sigh of both exhaustion and profound contentment. The cool sheets brushed against your skin as you nestled into the plush surface, feeling the weight of the evening’s intensity finally lifting.

Jiseok, ever attentive and affectionate, immediately drew close to you, his warmth a comforting presence as he settled beside you. His gentle movements were accompanied by the soft clinking of handcuffs being released—your attention briefly drawn to Jooyeon as you freed him from his restraints. The momentary distraction quickly dissolved as Jooyeon, now liberated, nestled against your other side, creating a cocoon of shared intimacy.

You found yourself enveloped in the tender embrace of both men, their bodies pressing close to yours, forming a trio of intertwined warmth and affection. No words were necessary in this tranquil afterglow; the steady rhythm of three heartbeats aligning in a harmonious cadence spoke volumes. It was a silent testament to the deep bond you all shared, despite their penchant for testing your limits. In that quiet, blissful silence, the love between you thrived—unspoken yet undeniably profound.

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