bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
thursday, sung hanbin— poetry ii
⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.
⋆˙⟡ wc: 3.5k (it's a doozy but it's worth it i literally am so happy with this one)
⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down)
⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.
⋆˙⟡ thursday summary: thursday. good news: the week is almost over. bad news: you're stuck in poetry class with sung hanbin as your desk partner. it's weird. sometimes you play off each other so well, you're nearly blindsided by his sudden flipping of the switch. if only you could steal a glimpse at his journal.
⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. very toxic softboi/popular soccer star hanbinnie. guys THE LORE. you very well may not survive til the end of the week but we're already on this journey together so let's see it through!!! smut in gn and fem versions are slightly different due to logistics/circumstance. also there's two parts i wrote in here that made me laugh way too hard okay bye. xx
⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★☆(4.5)
EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest groping/brief nipple play (reader receiving; reader is wearing a bra and hanbin refers to you as having 'tits'), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), fingering (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; about looseness of pussy after this week/disappointing chest but not the size of it he's just being a dick am i making sense), slut and whore used to describe reader, one slap across the face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
scribble. scribble. scribble.
the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting.
“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral.
“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”
hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”
“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”
you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.
you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.
“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”
“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”
“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”
hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.
he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.
until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you.
like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.
the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.
junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.
so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence.
sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.
you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.
“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”
your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?
“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.
“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.
“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”
“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”
“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”
“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”
you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”
“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”
“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”
he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:
“from her perch at the window, she will never be much. the vultures jeered at her as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove.
if a dove she can be, she will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted her feathers and took her in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof.
she needs to change back, so she tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws her off with a shove. the reluctant truth is she’s filling with lust...
and she’s growing quite scared of the bird she’ll become.”
you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.
“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird she seemed to want to be... but never thought she could.”
you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.
“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. she’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now she’s afraid it’s turned her into a raven. a bird that frightens her. or maybe a bird she can’t recognize anymore when she looks in the mirror.”
“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change her.”
“but it sounds like she likes that change. at least part of her,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if she embraces that and sheds her own guilt— or molts, if you will— she’ll realize the raven is another distortion of her own making, just like the finch was. she’ll realize she is the dove and she always has been.”
your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.
“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess she could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds she thinks they are. maybe she finds that, after all this worrying, she was meant to be a vulture, too.”
“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.
shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.
hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you.
“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”
hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.
“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”
you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”
hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”
but you must’ve misheard him.
your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem.
your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.
after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.
WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!?
mina: ???
NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS.
mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30.
THANK U BYE
and... please be careful around him.
mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily
totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.
6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected.
you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.
a raven’s beady eyes stare back.
~
you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.
but your legs keep propelling you forward.
pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.
you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.
fuck it.
you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.
you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.
with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.
tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.
your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life.
and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.
you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.
you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:
“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show her her worth?
if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep her away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, she’d cry before she understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth.
a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find her and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths she would go to unearth...
something that does not belong to that bird.
seems the dove was a raven afterall.”
“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”
you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.
“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”
a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.
“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”
“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”
“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”
that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.
what was that about?
“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”
you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”
“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation.
a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side.
“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”
you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.
“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”
you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”
“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”
“b-but—.”
“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”
you find yourself nodding against all odds.
“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.
you just nod. it seems to be what you do best.
hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he undoes the center clasp of your bra and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see your tits and this is what you have to show?”
you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive chest. you’d never really doubted the allure of that part of your body before. should you have?
the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat.
he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see them. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”
hanbin’s free hand gropes your chest, thumb rubbing circles around one nipple and then the next as you let out a soft whimper.
“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”
you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”
“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.
you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.
“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”
hanbin’s free hand slips under your skirt, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.
his eyes darken as he reaches up your skirt again, tearing a hole right through your lace panties and stuffing two fingers inside of you immediately as you cry out.
“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? can already feel how much those other assholes have stretched you out,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment.
another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a misogynistic pig, but... had you really been physically tainted from the events of this week?
“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your heat and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”
“what—”
“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty, long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.
maybe you like it like that.
or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides tenderly that’s making you start to feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, lining up the tip and coating it in your juices. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.
“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”
BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....
a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you.
“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”
his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him.
“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”
“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”
you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.
“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”
the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:
“are there birds worse than vultures?”
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
gender neutral version below
EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest/abdomen groping (reader receiving; no anatomical descriptions or gender specific language), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), finger penetration (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; regarding looseness of hole (non specific) from desperation and disappointing chest/abdomen region (not related to gender or anatomical gendered parts he's just being a dick to you i hope this makes sense)), slut and whore are also used but not in a gendered context, one slap across face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦
scribble. scribble. scribble.
the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting.
“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral.
“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”
hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”
“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”
you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.
you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.
“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”
“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”
“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”
hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.
he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.
until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you.
like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.
the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.
junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.
so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence.
sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.
you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.
“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”
your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?
“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.
“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.
“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”
“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”
“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”
“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”
you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”
“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”
“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”
he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:
“from it’s perch at the window, it will never be much. the vultures jeered at it as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove.
if a dove it can be, it will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted it’s feathers and took it in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof.
it needs to change back, so it tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws it off with a shove. the reluctant truth is it’s filling with lust...
and it’s growing quite scared of the bird it will become.”
you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.
“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird it seemed to want to be... but never thought it could.”
you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.
“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. it’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now it’s afraid it’s been turned into a raven. a bird that’s frightening. or maybe a bird it can’t recognize anymore when it looks in the mirror.”
“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change the bird.”
“but it sounds like the bird likes that change. at least part of it,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if it embraces that and sheds it’s own guilt— or molts, if you will— it’ll realize the raven is another distortion of the bird’s own making, just like the finch was. it’ll realize it is the dove and it always has been.”
your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.
“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess it could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds it thinks they are. maybe it finds that, after all this worrying, the bird was meant to be a vulture, too.”
“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.
shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.
hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you.
“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”
hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.
“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”
you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”
hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”
but you must’ve misheard him.
your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem.
your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.
after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.
WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!?
mina: ???
NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS.
mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30.
THANK U BYE
and... please be careful around him.
mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily
totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.
6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected.
you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.
a raven’s beady eyes stare back.
~
you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.
but your legs keep propelling you forward.
pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.
you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.
fuck it.
you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.
you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.
with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.
tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.
your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life.
and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.
you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.
you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:
“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show it it’s worth?
if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep it away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, the bird cries before it understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth.
a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find it and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths it would go to unearth...
something that does not belong to that bird.
seems the dove was a raven afterall.”
“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”
you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.
“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”
a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.
“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”
“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”
“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”
that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.
what was that about?
“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”
you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”
“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation.
a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side.
“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”
you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.
“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”
you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”
“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”
“b-but—.”
“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”
you find yourself nodding against all odds.
“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.
you just nod again. it seems to be what you do best.
hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he tugs it to the side and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see how good you look under here and this is what you have to show?”
you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive upper body. you’d never really doubted the aesthetics of it before. should you have?
the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat.
he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see this. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”
hanbin’s free hand roams across your abdomen and chest, fingers ghosting sweetly against your skin until you let out the tiniest whimper.
“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”
you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”
“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.
you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.
“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”
hanbin’s free hand finds it’s way into your jeans, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.
his eyes darken as he undoes the button clasp and zipper of your pants, shoving your underwear to the side with his fingers. he forces your legs a bit farther apart before stuffing a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out.
“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? so desperate, i could slip right in,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. “did the other guys really make such a whore of you?”
another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a red-pilled pig, but... had you somehow been physically tainted from the events of this week?
“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your center and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”
“what—”
“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty— long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.
maybe you like it like that.
or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides both tenderly and persistently that’s making you feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, spitting in his hand and covering his length as he lines up the tip. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.
“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”
BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....
a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you.
“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”
his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him, frantically zipping up your jeans.
“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”
“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”
you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.
“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”
the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:
“are there birds worse than vultures?”
294 notes
·
View notes
lesson (not) learned
part two: lesson (still not) learned
wc: 1.5k
reader: afab (maybe also only femme but i don’t think so? idk lemme know if you think it should be labeled femme)
warnings: minors dni explicit smut!!!!!, established poly!relationship, oral m!receiving, fingering, learned this word today: pussyjob, hard/softdom!hanbin, switch!hao, sub(i guess mostly)!reader, hanbin and hao are not that nice but they love you (hanbin loves you more tho lol), addressing hanbin as "sir" towards the end, hanbin calls them puppies one time, mxm but very light, i guess light angst but a good ending, basically you and hao are always competing to be hanbin's favorite lol
summary: hanbin punishes a bickering poly!reader and hao for fucking without his permission; they do not learn their lesson
this started out as something else and then became this. oops. gonna have to write that original idea too eventually. enjoy :)
🚨MINORS DNI 18+ EXPLICIT SMUT BELOW🚨
“what was that, baby?” hao asks, hand tangled in your hair as he grips it tightly. somehow his tone remains patronizing despite the fact you’ve been edging him for at least half an hour. “can’t talk with a big cock in your mouth?”
you try to answer again, but it’s useless; a frustrated moan comes out of you instead and, for a moment, the curtain falls on hao’s persona he’s been maintaining to impress his other lover. you can see it in his eyes how the vibration on his cock affects him; how he desperately wants to give in to you. he always wants to cave a few minutes in.
but...
he blinks quickly; tightening his grip on your hair and yanking a bit harsher. “come on. he’s... he’s gonna get mad at us again if we don’t finish our punishment.”
a pointed exhale from the corner draws your attention to the third presence in the room. “aw, hao hyung, don’t be silly now. why would i get mad at you? hmm?”
the words are kind on paper-- playful even. but you would never know by the way hanbin says them. a viper’s tongue.
stupidly, you make eye contact with him. he’s lounging back in a leather armchair, a hand over his mouth and one eyebrow cocked in what seems to be amusement. a small beam of light illuminates a diagonal strip of his face from the corner of his left eye to his jaw bone. he looks otherworldly like this and the heavenly visual causes you to lose your grip on hao’s cock in your mouth.
it lolls out of you with a pitiful pop.
“baby,” hao pleads annoyedly, taking your face in his hands to try to get your attention but your fixation on hanbin’s beauty is just too strong. “baby, we need to keep going or he’s--.”
by the time you’ve actually comprehended hao’s words, a cruel laugh is already escaping hanbin’s throat from the corner of the room. “how did i manage to find the two stupidest, horniest people on the planet?”
“fuck,” hao whispers angrily, shaking your face that’s still in his hands. “this is all your fault! you always do this!”
“this is not my fault! are you kidding me!?” you defend, childishly folding your arms across your chest. “you’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands off me earlier.”
“you literally grabbed my fingers and stuck them in your pussy,” hao counters, glaring at you. “you always want him to think you’re his perfect little angel, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. you’re just a spoiled fucking brat who needs--.”
your lips are on hao’s before he can finish his assassination of your character. unfortunately you just can’t help yourself when he talks to you like that. but hao is no lesson in self control either, seeing as he’s moaning into your mouth within seconds; pushing your back down onto the bed beneath him. in between your thighs, the head of his cock starts to tease your entrance.
“fuck,” hao whines needily, rutting against you and, as he does, treading dangerously close to forbidden territory for the second time today. the desperation in hao’s voice only turns you on more, though and, clouded with lust, you also forget about the events that happened just hours ago.
“pleasepleaseplease, need you,” you beg incomprehensibly, the head of hao’s cock pressing into your clit. “fuck hao, please, just need you inside me now.”
“oh my god,” hao says as if he’s gonna lose his mind if he can’t put his cock in you in the next five seconds. “fuck, i can’t--... we can’t, baby. we’re not supposed to...”
though hao is certainly attempting to convince himself not to finally push himself inside your dripping hole, he’s failing miserably. you feel him start to rut progressively deeper, his resolve slowly turning to moans and whimpers until--
“you two never fucking learn your lesson, do you?”
your whole body freezes as hanbin yanks hao up by his ear to a kneeling position. hao seethes at the pain and hanbin whispers something in his ear that shuts him up without discourse. the sinking feeling in your gut reaches its height when hanbin’s attention turns to you.
“binnie, please,” you start to plead as hanbin just smiles coolly back at you. “hao started it! i would never break the rules, binnie-- i promise.”
hao opens his mouth to argue, but a quick glare from hanbin settles him down. the younger man lets go of hao’s ear; stepping closer to you. a gentle hand finds your jaw, pulling you up to meet him in a kiss. it’s sultry and warm and once again has you squeezing your thighs together for relief.
“cute,” hanbin coos, his left hand reaching to cup your heat. you can’t help but grind against his fingers as hanbin fawns over you. you know it’s a trap. but you just can’t help yourself.
neither can hao, whose hand has already begun stroking his cock again.
“hao hyung started this-- is that right, angel?” hanbin asks, pouting at you as he rubs his thumb across your cheek sweetly. and then the other shoe drops. “hao hyung is the one who got my angel this wet?”
you shake your head frantically. “no! no, binnie--.”
he tilts his head to the side-- a suggestion (or threat) that you better start using his preferred title effective immediately.
“i’m sorry, sir, i just--.”
“i was five fucking feet away from you-- you think you can lie to me?” hanbin’s tone surprisingly isn’t so much angry as it is... disappointed. your eyes meet hao’s and you know he’s thinking the same thing:
this is not good.
“bin-ah,” hao says softly, cautiously reaching out a hand to touch hanbin’s shoulder. “binnie, are you really upset?”
hanbin sighs melodramatically, shrugging off hao’s touch and turning away from the bed. “you both want each other so bad. it doesn’t really seem like you need me anymore.”
“what!?” you exclaim, scrambling to sit up and wrap your arms around his neck from behind. “of course we need you, hanbinnie! we love you. and i love you way more than hao loves you.”
“you’re such a little...” hao starts, grabbing your nipple between his fingers and pinching hard. you squeal and he sticks his tongue out at you as he takes hanbin’s hand in his own. “we’re trying to reassure hanbinnie and you still find a way to make it all about you? so typical. and for your information, he likes me more than you.”
“he does not! he said--... he said...” your words trail off as you suddenly feel hanbin pressing kisses up your arm where it hangs across his chest. “hanbinnie, we’re sorry. we need you. clearly we need you. we’d kill each other without you.”
“so sorry, binnie,” hao mumbles into hanbin’s shoulder. “we just can’t help ourselves sometimes.”
“we--... we need to be punished again, binnie,” you say, kissing his neck sweetly.
“please, binnie?” hao echoes hopefully. “we’ll be good this time!”
the sound of hanbin chuckling is not what either of you are expecting to hear, but when he turns around with a glint of sadistic pleasure in his eyes, an exhilarating chill runs down your spine. all of this-- from the moment hanbin had left you alone with hao this afternoon while he went to get groceries up to now-- had been one giant trap.
you and hao were really in for it now.
“you’re both a little too soft for your own good, don’t you think?” hanbin muses with a smirk. “we all know you desperately need me.”
you look down at your lap in shame and you know that hao is doing the same.
“but i need you too,” he adds, a hand running up one of yours and hao’s thighs. “my two favorite puppies. so perfect. just need some more training is all.”
“yes, sir,” you and hao respond together happily.
just as hanbin’s left hand wraps around the base of hao’s cock and the fingers of his right hand find your entrance, his phone starts to ring in his back pocket. “fuck,” he curses, removing his fingers from you and reaching for his phone. you start to whine, but a sharp look keeps you quiet.
“i have to take this,” hanbin sighs, walking towards the door. “when i come back, i better find you both on your stomachs for me. understand?”
“yes, sir,” the two of you respond from the bed again.
as the door shuts behind hanbin, you look at hao. his eyes are narrowed in anger and the head of his cock is leaking pathetically. you stare at each other for a long moment before hao quickly gives up and begins climbing back between your legs.
hanbin knows exactly what he’s going to walk back into. and though he knows he’s going to have to make you both pay for it...
he wouldn’t have it any other way.
357 notes
·
View notes