Pinned
thinkin bout hyunjin who gets down on his knees for you at any and every opportunity.
bad day? he's on his knees, tugging at your jeans and letting you hold his hand as he looks up at you, just wanting to make you feel better.
got a good grade on an assignment or a promotion at work? he's kissing his way down your body as he settles himself on his knees, ready to reward you.
can't sleep? he's pushing your thighs apart so he can lazily drag his tongue until you let go and fall asleep.
hungover? heβs guiding you to sit at the edge of the bed, kissing your knees before spreading them apart, mumbling, "just let my tongue ground you, baby."
feeling insecure? heβs on his knees, hands smoothing over your thighs as he worships every inch of you with his mouth, whispering between kisses, "how could you ever doubt how perfect you are?"
bad argument? heβs apologising between deep, slow strokes of his tongue, desperate to make it up to you, to have you falling apart for him as his hands hold you still.
just took a shower after he finished fucking you? heβs pushing you back onto the bed, damp skin under his lips as he groans, "so fresh, so sweet. gotta taste you all over, angel."
he's jealous? heβs gripping your thighs tighter, pulling you to the edge of the bed as he looks up at you with dark eyes. mine, he growls before diving in, determined to remind you exactly who you belong to, and vice versa when you're jealous too. except then he's mumbling "yours" as he slowly looks up at you from on his knees, panting with your arousal on his mouth and chin.
hyunjin, who doesnβt just love you, he worships you. on his knees, every single time.
PRAISE ME, BABY
Synopsis: Jisung just can't act normal when you praise him. A.N: Idk how this turned out to be as it's been a while, so don't have high expectations lmao (i wanna kms).
Jisung prided himself on being a pretty calm guy. Sure, he got flustered easily, especially around his friends. But he considered himself to be pretty chill, all things considered. That is, until you came along.
He had known you for a while, you were one of his closest friends. You were always bubbly and outgoing, the life of any party, and always ready with a compliment or word of encouragement. He always appreciated your presence, but recently, he's been feeling a strange pull towards you, something he canβt quite place.
It all started with your voice. He swore heβd never been so attentive to his own name until you were the one calling him for a project. His stomach would twist, his palms would sweat, and the tips of his ears burned. At first, he figured it was just a passing thing, the nerves that everyone has when they begin a new friendship. He wanted to be your friend, and it only seemed right that the nervousness would wash away eventually. Yet weeks turned into months, and the only thing that faded was your shared space for the project.
And now, even though youβre done with the thing you were assigned together, you spend just as much time together as you did while working on the project.
The real problem began when you decided to tell him heβs good at things. Things he knew he was good at, but for some reason, meant so much more coming from you. A compliment on the new song he wrote? He nearly passed out. You telling him you thought his drawing was good? He felt like his skin would melt off. You telling him he was the best friend you could ever ask for? He was a goner. Completely gone.
It was starting to affect him in ways he couldnβt explain. He'd find himself thinking about you at the most random moments, his heart racing whenever you were near, and an insistent pull between his legs whenever you were even the slightest bit nice. And as much as he liked the feeling, he also hated it. He didnβt want you to know that he was so easily affected by you, that your kind words could turn him into a blushing mess. He wanted to be cool, to play it off, to pretend it didnβt bother him. But he just couldnβt.
Which brings him to now, in your living room, trying his best to focus on the statistics research youβve assigned him.
βJisung, can you check these numbers over one more time?β You ask from across the room, and he tenses at just the sound of your voice. He wants nothing more than to scream, to run into the bathroom and jerk off, to cry at the overwhelming amount of horniness you cause him.
He nods stiffly, pushing away from the small table with a gentle βmhmmβ before leaning over to peer at the numbers on your laptop. His face burns hot as you lean closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his as you point out what heβs supposed to be looking for.
βOkay, so what you need to do isβ oh! Good job! Thanks, Jisung!β You practically sing as you reach over to pat him on the head, and that sends him over the edge. His cock jumps in his pants, and he feels his face turn tomato red.
Your hand, still resting innocently on his head, feels like a fucking brand, searing through his hair, through his skull, straight down to the mess youβve made of his insides. Good job. The two simplest words, uttered in your bright, infuriatingly cheerful voice, and heβs instantly, shamefully, rock hard.
He jerks back from the laptop, pulling away from your touch like itβs electrocuted him, though every nerve ending is screaming for more. His face is burning, radiating heat heβs sure you can feel even from a foot away. He canβt look at you. If he looks at you, sees that oblivious sunshine smile, he might actually combust. Or worse, grab you, shove you against the wall, and demand you say it again while he grinds his aching erection against you.
βUhβ¦ yeah,β he manages to choke out, his voice cracking embarrassingly. He clears his throat, turning away, pretending to be intensely interested in a dust bunny near the leg of the table. Anything to avoid your gaze. Anything to hide the pathetic state you reduce him to with a casual pat on the head and a few kind words.
This is fucking pathetic. He hates this. Hates how easily you unravel him. Hates how that simple, genuine praise ignites something dark and needy deep inside him, something that feels distinctly wrong for a friendship. He shouldnβt be getting hard because you think he did a good job double-checking some stupid statistics. He shouldnβt be picturing the way your mouth would look wrapped around him while you told him how good he is, how much you need him.
But he is. Fuck, he is.
His hand instinctively drops to cover the embarrassing bulge straining against his zipper. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust himself, but itβs useless. Heβs thick, throbbing, painfully aware of every beat of his pulse echoing between his legs. He needs release. He needs it now. Needs to lock himself in your bathroom, your scent probably clinging to the towels, and just fucking ruin himself thinking about you, whispering your praises back to himself like some kind of mantra while he pumps his fist raw.
βJisung? You okay?β Your voice again, closer this time. Concerned. Fuck, why are you always so nice? Donβt you see what youβre doing to him? Or maybeβ¦ maybe you do? A tiny, insidious thought worms its way into his brain. Maybe this bubbly, outgoing act is just that β an act. Maybe you know exactly how much power your words hold over him. Maybe you like seeing him squirm.
The thought sends a fresh wave of heat through him, darker this time, mixed with a confusing flicker of anger. He forces himself to look up, meeting your earnest, slightly worried gaze. God, youβre so fucking pretty it hurts. Your eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, head tilted in that way that makes him want to either kiss you senseless or push you down onto the floor.
βFine,β he bites out, the word harsher than intended. He sees you blink, taken aback by his tone. Good. Maybe if heβs an asshole, this feeling will stop. Maybe if he pushes you away, the relentless throb behind his fly will finally subside.
But then you offer him another smile, softer this time, understanding. βOkay,β you say gently. βWell, you did a really great job with this, Sungie. Seriously, I was totally stuck.β You even reach out, squeezing his arm briefly.
Sungie.
His breath catches. His cock gives another violent jump, straining against the denim, slick head weeping pre-cum he can suddenly, agonizingly feel dampening the inside of his boxers. The urge to groan, to grab your hand and press it against his hardness, to make you feel what you do to him, is overwhelming.
He stands abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Your hand drops from his arm. He canβt stay here. Not another second.
βGottaβ¦ uhβ¦ bathroom,β he mutters, already moving, practically fleeing towards the hallway, avoiding your confused expression.
He finds the door, shoulders his way inside, locking it behind him with trembling fingers. He leans his forehead against the cool wood, breathing hard, trying to regain control. The small space smells faintly of your cherry blossom body wash. Torture. Absolute fucking torture.
His eyes squeeze shut. Good job, Jisung. Youβre the best, Sungie. Lifesaver. Your voice echoes in his head, sweet poison fueling the fire. He can almost hear you whispering other things. Filthy things. Telling him how good he feels inside you, how much you need his cock, how perfect he is while he pounds into you.
With a ragged groan, he rips his jeans open, yanking himself out. Heβs dripping wet, painfully hard, veins standing out in sharp relief. He doesnβt bother with lube, doesnβt need it. He wraps his fist around his shaft, tight, punishing, and starts stroking, fast and frantic.
He needs friction. Needs pain to cut through the overwhelming pleasure-ache your praise causes. He imagines you kneeling right where heβs standing, eyes wide and adoring, chanting his praises while he fucks your pretty mouth raw. He imagines pinning you against this sink, lifting one of your legs, shoving into you while you gasp out how good he is, how perfect his cock feels splitting you open.
βFuckβ¦ yesβ¦β he pants, knuckles white, pumping harder, faster. He can feel the orgasm building, coiling tight and low in his gut, spurred on by the phantom echo of your voice telling him heβs good. He bites back a louder groan, thrusting his hips forward, fucking his own fist against the closed door. He pictures your face contorted in pleasure beneath him, screaming his name, telling him heβs the best youβve ever had.
Heβs close, so fucking close, vision swimming, when he hears it. A soft tapping on the door.
"Jisung? Are youβ¦ sure youβre okay? You sound kind ofβ¦ strained."
Your voice. Right there. Concerned. Oblivious. Or maybe⦠not so oblivious?
Panic crashes through him, cold and sharp, momentarily dousing the heat. He freezes, hand clamped tight around his still-throbbing cock, slick with sweat and pre-cum. Did you hear him? Did you hear the harsh pants, the low groans, the frantic rhythm?
Fuck. He is so fucked!
A.N: This man makes me have urges i don't normally have like uhhh the things i wanna do to him! Also i have so many thoughts on how/where i want this to go from here, but m not sure! So this will stay like this until i settle on one ending. Sorry :(
Just your friend Chan giving you some aphrodisiac chocolate without letting you know...
Best!friend!Chan who's been planning this for weeks, touching himself at night to the mere thought of how you might react. His cock is already half-hard just from you sitting beside him, your innocent movements driving him insane. Every time your shirt rides up or your legs spread slightly, his mind floods with filthy scenarios.
Best!friend!Chan who pretends to casually offer the chocolate while his heart pounds, already imagining your thighs trembling around his head later. His breathing hitches watching your lips wrap around it, cock twitching violently at how your tongue darts out to catch a melted drop. He shifts subtly to hide his growing bulge.
Best!friend!Chan who nearly cums in his pants just watching the first signs take effect - the way you start fidgeting, how your nipples slowly harden beneath your shirt. His perverted mind catalogs every detail: your quickening breath, the slight flush on your chest, how you keep pressing your thighs together. He's never been so hard in his life.
Best!friend!Chan who can barely contain himself as he watches you start to pant, your legs spreading unconsciously wider on the couch. His cock is painfully hard now, straining against his zipper as he notices a small damp spot forming on your pants. He bites his lip so hard it nearly bleeds, fighting the urge to throw you down right there.
Best!friend!Chan who's trembling with need as he watches your hands start to wander, fingers unconsciously brushing over your hardened nipples through your shirt. His own hands grip his thighs white-knuckled, cock leaking steadily as you let out a soft, needy whimper. The sound goes straight to his groin, making his hips twitch involuntarily.
Best!friend!Chan who's breathing becomes ragged as you start grinding subtly against the couch, clearly desperate for friction. He can smell your arousal now, sweet and heady in the air. His cock throbs painfully as he watches a bead of sweat roll down your neck, disappearing beneath your collar, imagining following its path with his tongue.
Best!friend!Chan who nearly loses it completely when you moan his name softly, clearly unaware you've even said it. His perverted mind catalogs how your thighs are quivering now, how your pupils are blown wide with drug-induced lust. He can see your nipples straining against the thin fabric, begging for his touch. The wet spot between your legs has grown visibly larger.
Best!friend!Chan who's barely holding onto his last shred of control as you start pawing at your own clothes, whimpering with need. His cock is so hard it hurts, precum forming a dark spot on his pants as he watches you writhe. He knows you're almost ready, almost desperate enough to beg for it.
Best!friend!Chan who's practically vibrating with anticipation as your movements become more frantic, more desperate. His own arousal is almost painful now, cock throbbing in time with each needy sound that falls from your lips. The way you're squirming, grinding shamelessly against the couch cushions - it's better than any fantasy he's ever had.
Best!friend!Chan who watches entranced as your hands start roaming more boldly over your body, fingers trailing fire across oversensitive skin, not caring any more if he can see you or hear you. His breath catches when you arch your back, shirt riding up to expose a tempting strip of flesh. The sound of fabric rustling as you writhe fills the otherwise quiet room, punctuated by your increasingly vocal whimpers.
Best!friend!Chan who's dizzy with want as he watches your control crumble further, sees you starting to palm yourself through your clothes with shaking hands. His own fingers dig crescents into his thighs as he fights to stay still, to let the aphrodisiac work its magic completely. The wet patch between your legs has grown obscenely large now, your arousal perfuming the air.
Best!friend!Chan who nearly breaks when you start begging incoherently, his name mixed with desperate pleas falling from your lips. His cock jerks violently at each breathy "please" and "Chan" and "need you." The thin veneer of his restraint fractures further as you start tugging frantically at your clothes, too far gone to even coordinate your movements properly.
Best!friend!Chan who's trembling with the effort of holding back as you finally turn to him with glazed eyes, reaching for him needily. He can see how wrecked you already are - clothes disheveled, skin flushed and glistening with sweat, pupils blown wide with drug-fueled desire. The sight of you so desperate for him, so completely undone, makes his cock pulse dangerously.
Best!friend!Chan who finally, finally lets his control snap when you crawl into his lap, grinding against his painfully hard length shamelessly. His hands immediately grab your hips, guiding your movements as you sob with relief at the contact. He's imagined this moment countless times, but nothing could have prepared him for how perfect you feel writhing against him, how sweetly you moan his name.
Best!friend!Chan who growls possessively as he flips you onto your back, pinning you to the couch. His hands roam greedily over your body as you arch into his touch, begging for more. He can feel how wet you are even through your clothes, can see how desperately you need him. The knowledge that he did this to you, reduced you to this needy, wanting mess, makes his head spin with power and lust...
It's been a while since i wrote anything so excuse me if this isn't good. Also excuse any mistake this was not proofread at all.
Seungmin behind the scenes of filming "As We Are".
Tall, dark and handsome- heβs got it all guysπ©
Warning: non con, extreme (kinda) breathplay, all of them are mean
Chan:
"The only sounds I wanna hear are you choking on my cock," Chan snarls as he tightens his vise-like grip on your throat. His hips snap forward with cruel force, burying his thick length into your spasming cunt to the hilt. You gurgle helplessly around the oxygen deprivation, eyes rolling back as he sets a punishing pace.
"F-Fuck⦠take it slut, just like that," he grunts, other hand threading into your hair to yank your head back at an obscene angle. Drool leaks from the corner of your parted lips with each savage thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.
He loosens his hold briefly to give you a split second of reprieve and your body instinctively bucks with a ragged inhale. But Chan is immediately squeezing again with wicked dominance, smile twisting viciously as your airway is cut off once more.
"Love listening to you try and breathe while i'm choking you," he growls, sloppy sounds of his brutal rutting filling the air. You feel yourself teetering on the brink of blackout, shuddering convulsively around the jackhammer pace splitting you apart.
Just when you think you're about to pass out from the dizzying rapture, Chan's grip shifts, closing off your throat entirely. You seize and buck beneath him with garbled, strangled wails as your entire world whites out into an overwhelming release. Through the delirium, you feel thick spurts of cum flooding your battered pussy in time with your own gushing orgasmβ¦
Minho:
"Yes, that's my fucking girl," Minho croons as you writhe beneath his firm chokehold, nails digging crescent moons into the wrist constricting your breath. The filthy sounds of his thick cock pistoning in and out of your dripping slit accompany your feeble grunts and wheezes.
He slows his punishing thrusts momentarily, dragging the swollen head in maddening circles around your abused entrance before sheathing himself fully once more. Delirious with oxygen deprivation and the merciless stimulation, a pitiful whimper gurgles past your parted lips. Minho's eyes darken at the submissive sound.
"What's that, slut?" he sneers, grip tightening incrementally as he rolls his hips with agonizing languor. "You want more of this cock inside your worthless little fucktoy hole?"
You can only respond with another broken noise, desperation contorting your face as he withholds the breath you so crave. Smirking viciously, Minho releases your neck just long enough for you to drag in one desperate inhale before cutting it off again. He resumes pounding into your brutalized cunt at the same devastating pace, ignoring your garbled shrieks of overwhelmed rapture.
"M gonna keep you right on the edge like this," he pants harshly, damp hair clinging to his forehead with exertion. "Stuffed full of cock and just shy of passing the fuck out from how badly I'm choking you. What a lucky little fucktoy..."
Changbin:
"That pretty little face is gonna look so fucked when I'm done with you," Changbin growls, thumb digging cruelly into the hollow of your throat. His pelvis snaps forward with punishing force, burying his girth into your abused slit to the hilt as you choke out a gurgling wail.
You're drooling helplessly in your struggle to take air into your compressed airway, all rational thought obliterated by the fireworks detonating behind your eyes each time his cock splits you open. Pounding relentlessly, Changbin tightens the circle of his fingers around your neck, cutting off breath entirely. The oceanic rush in your ears grows louder as you convulse beneath him, mind blanking into euphoric white static.
Just as blackness begins creeping in at the edges of your vision, he finally deigns to loosen his hold. The oxygen flooding back into your lungs draws a shuddering wheeze of relief that's abruptly swallowed by another hoarse cry as Changbin's thick shaft slams home again. Your battered walls flutter around the brutal intrusion, gushing more of your grool to mingle with the mixture of your arousal already coating his pelvis and thighs in a sticky sheen.
"Fuck, you're gonna milk me dry, aren't you?" he pants, greedy gaze drifting between the sloppy mess your joined sexes have become and the punished, drooling 'o' of your lips struggling for air. "Go ahead, cum all over this fat dick stuffing you stupid, slutβ¦"
Hyunjin:
Hyunjin's dark gaze burns with unrestrained possession as he tightens his grip around your delicate throat. The vicious squeeze elicits a gurgling, strangled cry as he sheaths his aching length fully inside your helpless, convulsing cunt.
"Look at you," he rasps, voice dripping with cruel dominance. "Such a depraved little fucktoy, gagging and choking on my cock like the thirsty set of holes you are."
He draws out with agonizing slowness, the lurid sounds of your arousal thick and obscene. Breathing raggedly through your teeth, you manage to roll your hips in a desperate bid for more friction against the delicious stretch of his girth. Hyunjin watches with darkly amused eyes before abruptly slamming back in to the hilt, never releasing the bruising squeeze cutting off your breath.
Each punishing thrust rips a strangled, gurgling wail from your swollen lips as you writhe and buck violently beneath him. Drool and streaks of your mixed arousal smear between your gasping mouths - you delirious with white-hot euphoria, he coldly focused and ruthless in his domination.
Without warning, Hyunjin shifts his grip, fingers curling around your throat in a vice that fully cuts off oxygen. You seize with a sobbing shriek of rapture as your entire body is set alight, an orgasm of earth-shattering intensity tearing through you like a shockwave. Spots of blackness encroach on the edges of your vision. Just as you start to go limp, hurtling helplessly toward that blissful abyss, Hyunjin releases his grip.
The gasping inhale you manage to wheeze as stars explode behind your fluttering lids is abruptly choked off once more as Hyunjin resumes his merciless pace, maniacal fervour coursing through his frame.
"I haven't given you permission to pass out yet, slut," he snarls, voice edged with insane menace. "Gonna keep you right on that brink, stuffed full and denied air until I've properly bred your slutty womb..."
Overwhelmed shrieks and garbled pleas spill from your abused throat as Hyunjin relinquishes and reinstates the breath-stealing clutch at cruel, calculated intervals - keeping you pinwheeling in the vertigo of orgasmic delirium. He shows no signs of slowing, ruthlessly extending your torture of euphoria into a realm where rapture and agony have blurred indistinguishably...
A.N: Not me writing this at work and praying that nobody walks into my office without me noticing ππ
