What kind of fucked up fantasy. Co star! + Ghostface! Finn Wolfhard x Fem! Reader nsfw 18+ minor ffs dni
tw-incs: degrading, mean finn, dom finn, sub reader, pornography, making out, p n v, protection (wrap it before you tap it silly), choking, knife play, mask kink, torture, voyeurism, oral male receiving, humiliation, filming, fem! Masturbation, cum play, edging, pwp?
if theres anything i missed lemme know ^
Summary: scene went horny ?
2.5k word count
Not fully proof read
If you don’t like anything written in this, just don't read it <3
——————————
Both you and Finn are on set of the new scream movie, Finn is playing ghost face and you just so happen to be one of the victims that he has to kill.
Bloody and messy. but somehow oddly sexy but you can’t get over how fucking hot he looks.
Crawling away from him, you can't help to actually feel slightly frightened seeing him rip off the mask giving you a malicious smile making your insides turn. watching him inch slowly towards you. Flipping the knife over the back side of his hand, backing you into a corner.
You start feeling the tears rolling down your cheeks, blurring your vision as you hit the wall having nowhere else to run.
He looks at you with a dark look in his eyes.
'What's wrong baby, it's like you've seen a ghost' watching his lips turn into a frown.
'Don't you wanna come a little closer?' he whispers, his mouth turning into a smug smirk. He grabs you by the neck, pulling you up the wall just at eye level with him.
He laughs watching you flinch at his touch.
That wasn't in the script.
He finally drops you. knees pressed to the floor looking down in defeat and pain.
You make out what sounds shuffling behind you, hearing soft but slow footsteps. Finally stopping behind you, feeling a hand pushing you roughly on the dingy basement floor. landing straight on your cheek, feeling dizzy you start crawling towards the nearest exit, trying to find a way out of this hellscape.
Flash click
Hearing what sounds like a camera taking a picture.
You start to feel your face getting hot, breathing heavily. the camera directors start wondering if they should just cut and let you have a breather for a second and pick back up in 20 minutes, concerned at the fact you genuinely look terrified.
But you're nothing but just incredibly turned on right now
Feeling a hand grasp around your throat pulling your head up, eyes landing directly on a phone screen. He starts pressing a couple buttons, you are now face to face with how you look right.
You look absolutely fucked out and tortured.
Glancing at him, smiling behind your head, pulling the mask back on.
His hand lets go of your throat, dragging his hand back pulling your head back, bunching your hair back in a messy ponytail. you wince at the sharp pain at the base of your scalp. feeling the wetness pool in your panties.
What the fuck is wrong with you, this is your co star for fuck sakes.
'Smile for me ' he says viciously in your ear, making you moan.
Flash click
Dropping your head, pulling your head up by your chin placing the knife against your neck.
CUT
You breathe out, Finn pulling you into a hug.
'you alright' he says, barely audible with the staff behind the camera yelling at each other about the scene 'maybe it's a bit too much ' ‘ next scene in 1 hour everyone be ready then’ worrying about your well being,
To be be completely honest you were more worried about how fucking turned on you were right now. not knowing what to do, you run to the nearest bathroom giving yourself a minute to process what happened
Looking in the mirror, you were an absolute mess. all the makeup done by the team streaming down your face. Big black circles lay under your eyes. Mascara trailing down your cheeks.
You look horrible.
Taking a couple deep breaths and you start walking out of the bathroom trying not to make eye contact with anyone on the team, rushing to your trailer.
——————————
Water falling your back feeling everything wash off of you, taking the time to wash off your make up.
You hear an aggressive knock on your door.
Quickly drying yourself off, grabbing the robe hanging off the door running over to the other side of your trailer opening the door to see no one standing there. You feel a cold breeze blow against the back of your legs.
The windows open, you don't remember leaving it open.
You feel an eerie presence behind you, glancing back seeing a man with a mask on.
‘Finn?’ Hopefully making him say something, you can tell it's him by the way his hand is wrapped around the knife in his. Finn just sits there and says nothing, just staring at you. Feeling his eyes glaze over your body, burning a hole right through you.
Even though you can't see his eyes you know exactly how they look right now, filled with lust.
You apparently weren't the only one who was turned on in that scene.
This dark twisted fantasy guys were playing out right now, had your knees wobbling not really knowing how you were standing right now. Seeing the hottest man alive basically eye fucking through a mask right now just waiting for you to bow down and worship him. Hearing his thumb tap against the side of his thigh, getting impatient now.
You lower yourself to your knees, look at him through the mask. Your eyes trailing over him, watching the way the black skin tight thermal hugged his body and nicely insinuates his biceps.
Now you were eye fucking him cause fuck who wouldnt, this man is basically shaped like the statue of David himself.
You crawl your way over to him, keeping eye contact as you slowly reach his knees. Resting your head on them, looking up at him with pleading eyes asking for permission.
He grabs your hand, moving them over his body. Up under his shirt feeling his hot skin, slowly guiding your hand down to his bulge.
He was harder than a rock.
You start palming him through his jeans looking up at him, watching his head tilt back. Finally being able to see some sort of skin from under that mask.
Slowly you start unzipping his jeans, rubbing your face up against his bulge under his boxers, lips grazing up his shaft, hearing his breath hitch at the feeling of your lips just almost touching him.
He still hasn't said a word this entire time.
You look up at him hoping he will say something, anything. He grabs you by the hair, letting his free hand pull his boxers down releasing his cock.
Your eyes winded at how big he was, how pink the tip looks. He pulls your hair harder making tears well up in your eyes.
‘ Suck ‘
He demands, pushing your face down on his cock. Pulling you up slightly so you can open your mouth, circling your tongue around the tip, his hand still in your hair the other place over his mouth, the mask slightly moving it up so you can see the bottom half of his face.
Fuck Finn looked heavenly. His mouth slightly a jar breathing heavily into his hand.
You open your mouth more, taking more of him in, he can feel you going deeper, feeling your throat close around his girth as you slowly start bobbing your head up and down. You bottom out around his cock, your nose muffled into his stomach making it unable to breathe as he holds your head down watching the tears roll down your cheeks.
He takes his hand from under the mask pulling it up off his head, eyes meeting his brown eyes dark and filled with lust as he tilts his head back groaning pleasure, he slowly swallows as you watch his adams apple bob up then back down.
Feeling the wetness down your thighs, you move your hand down to spread your lips apart slowly circling your clit.
Moaning around his cock, he lifts his hand from your hair letting you breathe. You feel him start twitching in your mouth, feeling his seed flow down your throat.
Swallowing every bit of it.
‘ Fuck ‘
He moans as you watch his eyebrows furrow together as he comes down from his high. He once again grabs you by the hair pulling you up towards him, meeting his eyes once again. Just like how you guys looked at each other in the scene.
‘ You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this. ‘
He breaths in your ear, moving down to nibble at your ear lobe, his lips slowly connecting with your neck. Kissing up your cheek, his lips engulfing yours. Your tongue tangles with his moaning into it, lowering yourself down onto his lap. You reach down untying your robe, he releases his lips from yours, watching as the plush material falls down your figure. Leaning back, getting himself comfortable as he watches you expose yourself to him.
‘ Now show me what you were doing to yourself before ’
You take a minute to take in his features, watching Finn’s eyebrows raise as his doe eyes scan down your body taking in everything that layed out in front of him. Like he's watching his favourite meal being dished on a platter begging to be eaten.
You lean back on his lap, spreading yourself open to him. Spread your lips open to him. Letting him take in the view, you bring your fingers to your bundle of nerves lifting your fingers up to your mouth staring him dead in his eyes, sucking on them just like you were doing to his cock not even 5 minutes ago.
bringing them back down to your wet core circling them around your clit, still making eye contact with him. Finn watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head watching you fingers play with yourself, biting his lip his eyes trail up to your breast watching them bounce as you shake in pleasure.
‘ Finn- ‘
That was enough to make him grab your wrist, making you stop everything you were doing. Grabbing your wrist, he pulls your wrist around to your back, pressing you down into the couch and exposing yourself to him even more. Ass high up in the air as your face is being pressed down into the couch cushions in your trailer.
You feel him release his hands from your wrist and hear him reach around to something in his pocket. Before leaning over you.
Beep
This sadistic motherfucker is recording this. Holy shit.
He pulls you by the hair once more, pointing your face directly at the phone that is currently recording every single inch of you.
‘ C’mon baby smile for the camera, show everyone how pretty you' re gonna look when my cock is deep inside you’
Fuck, that was just enough for you to moan out loud. You look at the camera and then back at yourself, watching Finn’s frame shadow behind you as he leans down cupping your cheeks.
‘Oh I can't wait to watch this back later.’
Letting go of your cheeks with no warning he bottoms out inside you with a low groan, hitting your cervix leaving you a moaning mess. You feel every inch of him inside you. He stays there for a bit not moving, leaning back over you looking at how fucked out you look in the camera.
This is going to be the death of me. Holy fuck.
His hair is pressed against his forehead, messy and oh so fucking hot. Making eye contact with you. He bites your ear
‘ No one's ever going to feel as good as me’
He whispers in your ear, barely audible to the camera. He pulls back, palming your ass as he pushes into you again, and then again fucking you relentlessly. Like he had been waiting his whole life to fuck you.
He grabs you by the neck, his chest meeting your back as he lowers you down onto his lap. Spreading your pussy apart, with your legs open wide for the camera. looking at his cock deep inside you.
He starts fucking up into you with moan feeling a whole new side. He is even deeper than before. His long fingers reach down to your bundle of nerves rubbing, leaning over your shoulder, eyes still on the camera watching his cock fucking deep inside you. Your mouth wide open. Drool trailing down to your tits, bouncing as he bruises the inside of you.
You are not going to be able to walk after this. How fuck are we gonna film the rest of our scenes today.
You could honestly careless right now. Finn’s fingers start working over time on your clit as you feel your high coming.
Finn stops.
‘What the fuck!’ You whine
‘Beg’
You gulp, still begging for movement.
Fuck it. He is never gonna let this down.
‘Please’ you whine ‘please I need to cum’
You feels his fingers start going back to work and his cock fucking your harder than before. A string of moans coming from both of you.
‘Fuck thats it baby, cum for me’ He say between muffled moan as he has his mouth buried in your neck leaving bruises and little love bites. His eyes still glued to your pussy on display to his camera watching you come undone all over his cock. Liquid running down thighs, as he fucks you through your orgasm, feeling his cock twitch inside of you, feeling him paint your walls.
He pulls out watching the cum drip from your entrance.
‘ You look so dumb right now ’
You look up to see him staring at you through the camera as he plays with your pussy showing the camera how fucked out you look, you can barely feel anything let alone how you are still alive right now. You tilt your head back to look up at him, his eyes softer than before.
He leans over, turning off the camera falling back down on the couch with you on top of him. He looks over at you
‘Holy fuck, what kind of fucked up fantasy are we in right now’
You both laugh at his comment as he throws his phone across the room landing next to the discarded mask from before, engulfing you in a hug and placing a kiss on your forehead.
Before you both hear a knock at your door.
‘We are on in five, both of you hurry up’
Oh Fuck. We left the window open.
---------------
please for the love of god let me know if you liked this. this was my first time writing in about 2 years so please go easy on me.
take your shoes off - boredom at your fashion designer boyfriend’s house leads to a very eventful night for the both of you.
TRIGGER WARNING: dom!hongjoong (maybe even mean), slightly bratty! reader (i can’t help it, it’s built in me), brattamer!hongjoong, dirty talk, swearing, begging, pet names (baby), kissing, unprotected p in v (do NOT), f receiving oral, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, captain kink, crying, possessiveness, m receiving oral, crying, fluids mentioned, biting, teasing, scratching, submission, name calling, grabbing, praise (good girl), sharing clothes, bad humor
let me know if i missed any! i wrote this and kind of feel eh about it but like… i wrote it? so i might as well post it. okay, love you, bye! ♡
There were only so many ways to fill the time.
Tiktok and Youtube could only do so much before everything felt repetitive. One video would bleed into the next and you couldn’t separate storytimes from one another.
Doom scrolling was a bad habit, but you had been alone for so long now that even that couldn’t help keep your mind occupied.
Your friends were busy, all out having their own lives while you sat at your boyfriend, Hongjoong’s, house.
Alone.
Even he had a schedule. You knew he was a busy man, he had been meeting with designers to help make a second collection for his fashion brand. You didn’t fault him for that. You loved his work and you saw how happy it made him when his sketches came to life.
You loved seeing him happy.
You loved him.
But, at this current moment, you would do anything to have him by your side.
You didn’t have your car and you didn’t feel like spending whatever money it would take to go anywhere, not that you had any desire to go anywhere.
It had reached a point that your phone was so dry and you hadn’t had human interaction for hours that you were beginning to question if you were even still on Earth.
Or living.
There was even an hour when you had convinced yourself that you were actually in some sort of purgatory and that’s why you didn’t have the cell reception to receive any texts from anyone.
Before you could fully spiral and storm the neighborhood surrounding your boyfriend’s house to find some sort of life, he had sent you a text.
“Hmm, maybe people actually just hate me.” you questioned yourself before sliding to unlock your phone.
“My meeting ran a little late. I’ll be home soon, my love.”
That text came in nearly two hours ago.
You know because you had been patiently waiting in the living room, watching the clock to make sure you could meet him as soon as he walked in.
Yes, you were that bored.
Your head fell onto the back of the couch with a huff as you realized just how pathetic you probably looked. Like a dog waiting for its owner.
You pushed yourself from your relaxed position to make your way to his bedroom where you had been living in for this entire week.
He knew he’d have very little free time and wanted to see you as much as possible, so he asked for a long term sleepover. That way, every minute he had to himself you would be there and could spend as much time together without having to worry about picking you up or dropping you off.
He said that it was just a waste of precious time that you both could use to be together.
His house was exponentially better than yours, so it was a pretty easy answer.
Typically he wasn’t this busy, the two of you got to spend mornings and nights together and have little dates in between.
He had apologized at the start of the week, promising he’d do everything in his power to make it up to you the second he could.
You waved him off, you weren’t typically a clingy person but having your time limited with him had started to make your skin crawl.
You missed his cheesy jokes and his little ramblings about things he was working on.
You missed him explaining things that you would never use again in your life or be able to fully understand.
You missed him.
You would get maybe an hour or two tops with him every day when he got home before he was down for the count.
Once you reached the top of the stairs, your energy had drained. Your body felt tired and weak, as if your life source depended on those little interactions.
You felt needy and you hated it.
Worst of all, the two of you had barely been able to have any type of bedroom fun for the past few days. Which wasn’t helping.
Sex was never an issue in your relationship, he was very generous with making sure you were never hungry in that department. But with all his back to back meetings with artists and designers, he was always so exhausted when he did finally make it home.
And you weren’t selfish, you would never ignore his emotional state to satisfy your own needs.
In fact, you hadn’t really thought about it much until now.
But now that you had-
The sun was only just beginning to set outside, you figured it was still early enough that he wouldn’t mind a surprise for when he did eventually get home.
With newfound giddiness, you rushed to his bedroom and opened the top drawer in the dresser he had designated to your things.
He had offered to build you your own closet or give you his, but you figured that would be more of something that seemed logical if you were living there. Not just staying every once in a while.
You called it your dresser, but in reality, it was filled with things that Hongjoong had purchased for you.
When the two of you had first started seeing each other, you were a little hesitant whenever he decided to spend his money on you. You didn’t come from money and anytime anyone had “gifted” you something before, it came with conditions.
It took many, many politely rejected gifts and countless discussions about how much he genuinely enjoyed doing it for you to eventually give in.
And when you did, he went a little crazy.
You knew that half of the things you currently had your grubby little hands on were worth more than a month’s rent at your apartment.
Anytime you had worn something he had purchased, it always felt like it should’ve belonged to someone else. Someone who was worthy of it.
That also took some time (mixed with convincing) and praise from Hongjoong to help you get over.
You knew exactly what you were looking for, you were a woman on a mission.
He had gifted you a lingerie set months back that had yet seen the light of day. You promised to him you’d wear it on a special occasion, considering it was something that was meant to be worn under something. Not just on its own.
It was a black set, almost completely sheer apart from the lace brimming the tops of the bra and bottom of the panties. The same lace that matched the garter belt to connect to thigh high stocking.
He disagreed, but you laid out an entire storyline of how much better it would be if he was surprised by the set while he undressed you. Like unwrapping a gift.
He had offered to take you out that same night but you stood your ground. Calling him impatient and telling him good things come to those who wait.
But now?
Fuck waiting.
You were impatient and wanted a good thing to come now.
It took you no time to shed his shirt and replace it with the outfit, anxiously sitting on his bed as if he would walk in the second you were done.
Unfortunately for you, he hadn’t.
Unfortunately for you, his location hadn’t seemed to have moved from where it had been for the last few hours.
You sighed, flopping back onto the bed. Not only did you feel needy and impatient but now you were cold.
You turned your head to face the doorway of his closet, smiling as you thought of a new way to cure your boredom.
The lights immediately switched on the second your feet had touched the floor, wall to wall racks of his clothing surrounding you and the island in the center of the seemingly neverending closet space.
You knew that he had a lot of clothing, but this was more than you could possibly fathom.
“It’s like Mary Poppin’s bag, but in closet form.” you muttered to yourself as you picked a side and started looking through the racks.
Your fingers grazed over endless bundles of clothing, color coded suits with their matching pants hung alongside one another. You ran your hands down the line before stopping at a random red plaid jacket, quickly and carefully taking it from its hanger and throwing it on.
It hung from your shoulders, the extra material of the sleeves hanging over your hands as you sprinted to his floor length mirror. Your head tilted, “No, it should be black.”
You rushed to the section of black, using both your hands to separate the rack and take in each one.
“What would he even wear this to?” you asked, pinching a black and white checkered suit before pushing it away to reveal a black pinstriped one just behind it.
Your eyes lit up, placing it on you and heading back to the mirror.
“I should keep this.” you said, wrapping it shut before spinning and looking back at how it sat against your legs. “I feel like a mob boss.” you chuckled, your eyes scanning for the shelves of hats you knew he had.
You tried on a few different styles, creating characters for each one. You found a dark grey pageboy hat, one that you had seen him wear many times, placing it on your head before throwing your hair to the front of your shoulders.
“You come to me- on this- the day I am so bored and horny and ask me for a favor?” you mocked into the mirror, your lips downturned before taking a moment and walking to the island.
“Needs a tie.” you sighed, not even fully remembering why you had started this in the first place.
Black silk was a must, you decided, grabbing one at random and wrapping it around your neck.
You had seen Hongjoong do it enough times that it couldn’t have been that hard. Or so you thought.
You bit at your tongue, looping the material over itself and attempting to make it resemble somewhat of a knot. Your hair fell into your eyes as you grew increasingly frustrated, huffing as your hands slapped down against your bare thighs.
“Need a hand?” a voice came from behind you.
You screamed, shutting the jacket and spinning back to your very amused boyfriend leaning with his arms folded against the doorway. “Having fun?” he smirked, taking in your flustered state as you placed a hand to your chest to attempt to steady your heart.
“Don’t scare me like that!” you yelped, picking up a discarded hat and throwing it near his direction. Missing him completely.
He laughed, his face falling to the floor as he pushed himself from the frame. “I called for you many times. When you didn’t answer I assumed you were just sleeping up here but I see that is very much not the case.” he walked towards you, extending his arms to pull you into him.
He dug his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply while wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “I missed you.” he mumbled against you.
“I missed you too.” You sighed happily, nuzzling your face against his chest.
Every hour of boredom erased from your mind for every second he held you.
“Miss me so much you wanted to be me?” he pulled back to smile down at you, a hand moving to grab at the loose tie around your neck. He idly knotted it as you watched him in awe. No matter how long the two of you had been together, you still felt like you were dreaming whenever you were this close to him.
You didn’t understand how someone could be this perfect, this handsome, this talented and want to be with you. The person who had just been doing bad mobster impressions in the mirror a few minutes ago.
“There. Now you’re me.” he beamed, trailing his fingers down the tie and against the front of the jacket. His eyes followed, “Although, I would probably be wearing pants.”
“If you wear what I have on under this suit, then we have to have a discussion on why I haven’t seen it sooner.” you breathe out a laugh, pulling yourself back to look at him directly.
He knitted his brows in confusion, tiling his head as he played with the end of the tie, “What do you-“
His sentence cut short at the sight of lace peaking just out of the lapel.
You could physically see his pupil dilate, his body frozen as his face straightened. He knew exactly what you had on. He was very aware of the lingerie set he constantly begged you to wear.
He didn’t beg for anything. Ever.
His fingers tightened a bit on the silk tie, “Open it.”
You knew that tone, that was his “I’m being polite now, but do not push it” tone. It was one of your favorite tones he had.
Your eager hands shook as you unhooked yourself from him to untuck the jacket from under your arms. His sharp intake of breath in time with the jacket falling open.
He groaned, “What did I do to deserve you?”
“I don’t know, but you must have been terrible in a past life.” you joked, pushing up on your toes as you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck.
“What I did back then is nowhere close to what I’m going to do to you now.” he cooed.
His lips crashed against yours, one hand pulling the tie to lift you up to him as the other found your hip. His fingers rubbed along the patterns of the lace as he brought your bottom lip between his teeth.
You gasped, his grip tightening as he pressed against you. He took the moment to slide his tongue into your mouth, massaging it against your own. His breathing had picked up, fingers bruising against the skin of your waist as he pulled back taking a string of saliva with him.
“I’ve been so selfish lately.” he stated softly, his nose tracing alongside yours as you whimpered in response. “You’ve been waiting here for me every day, taking the stress from my shoulders just by being yourself without a complaint.” he distanced from you, the tie lifting in his hand as he used it to walk you towards the island.
“You’ve been so good for me.” His voice was light, but his eyes were dark. He snapped his wrist towards his chest, flinging you into him by the neck as your hands caught on his biceps.
His face hovered above you, “I think you deserve a thank you, don’t you?”
You didn’t know what the thank you was but you nodded vigorously, excited to find out. He chuckled to himself, releasing the tie as it fell between your breasts. His hands traced down over your hips before back up to your waist, gripping it tightly and pushing you up to sit on top of the island.
You squeaked as your nearly bare ass hit the cool marble top of it, eyes wide as your hands continued to clutch to his body.
A smile tore across his face, his hands moving under his jacket to slide the material from your arms. It fell back against the island and he spread it out like a makeshift blanket behind you. “Lay back, baby, let Captain take care of you today.” his palm pressed against your chest to lay you flat.
You stopped yourself from giggling and kicking your feet, this was exactly what you wanted.
He wrapped his fingers around your right ankle, pressing his lips against it before going up to your calf, placing kisses up the line of your leg until he reached the top of your thigh highs. “You’re keeping these on.” His lips moved against your thigh, his hand unclasping the buckle from the garter. He repeated the same on the other side. You had to resist squirming, you knew doing so would only make him prolong doing anything at all.
Your patience was wearing very very thin and no matter how many times he tried to train you to be more submissive to him, there was a part of you that he could never contain. And you were doing everything in your power to push that side of you down.
“But these-“ his fingers hooked to the waistband of your underwear, “These are in my way.”
You exhaled shakily through your nose, your lips forming a pout as a whine slipped out.
He pulled them down at a snail’s pace, as much as you loved testing him. He loved to test you. To see how much he could get away with before you snapped, or just to test if you would snap.
It took a brat to be a good brat tamer.
“Something wrong?” he mocked innocence, tossing your panties to the floor before lowering himself to his knees. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling, you could hear it in his voice. “It’s been a few days, I just want us to enjoy every minute of this.” His hands raked down the tops of your thighs, the subtle burn of his fingernails making you hiss through your teeth before pulling your lip between them.
“I’ve been begging you to wear this, and you decide to put it on when I’m not here?” he tsk’d, moving to lick a stripe from the inside of your thigh just to stop before where you wanted him most.
You whimpered, biting so hard on your lip you thought you’d draw blood. “I wanted to surprise you.” you managed to get out.
He hummed, “I think you were just horny and wanted to get your way. Isn’t that right?”
He moved to your other thigh, his teeth sinking into the flesh of it. Your hand reached to grip at his hair, fingers lacing between his messy locks. “I said, isn’t that right?” he repeated himself, tracing his tongue along his teeth marks.
You exhaled shakily, “Yes.”
He smiled against you, his face moving an inch closer to your core. “Were you feeling needy, baby?” he kissed the area, sucking your skin into his mouth.
You nodded, “Yes.”
Another inch closer, “You were missing me that badly?”
“Yes.”
Another inch, his nose just grazing your folds. He lifted a hand to spread you open with his fingers, groaning to himself as he took in how wet you were. “All this and I haven’t even touched you yet.” he laughed and you could feel his breath against you. The warmth made you shiver.
“It’s been a little bit, remind me, who makes you this wet?” he looked up at you and the sight alone could send you over the edge.
“You do.” you whispered, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt.
He lowered his brows, feigning confusion, “You, who?”
“Hongj-“ was all you could get out before his tongue found your clit. His arms hooked under your thighs swinging them over his shoulder and pulling you closer to his face.
He ate you like a man starved, inhaling as his face disappeared into your cunt. His tongue swiveled and swirled around your bundle of nerves, moaning into you to add extra vibration.
Your hand pulled at his hair, your head falling back as you back arched into him. That hat you wore sliding off and bouncing onto the floor.
He groaned, an arm moving up to grip the bottom of the tie and pull it to sit you forward. He removed himself, lips and chin glistening as he scowled at you, “Eyes on me.”
You placed your hands flat behind you to support yourself, nodding as he kept a hold on the tie. It tightened around your neck, cutting your airflow only slightly due to the soft material but it was enough to make your vision blur at the edges.
He dipped back in with the same speed, his lips smacking against you as you could feel yourself shuttered at the intensity of his stare alone.
His remaining hand dropped below your eyesight as you felt him slide a finger into you.
The moan you let out echoed in the vastness of the closet, your jaw dropping. He turned his hand to curl his finger up to graze your g-spot. You did all you could to keep yourself upright, your arms already on the verge of giving out.
His eyes gleamed as he watched you unravel before him, the bulge in his dress pants nearly ripping through the seams.
He watched as you gasped when he added a second finger and you could feel him smile into you. He pulled back as his fingers set a steady rhythm pumping in and out of you. “I missed those pretty sounds of yours.” he licked his lips causing you to whine.
He groaned, “That one’s good.”
His fingers curled into you, “But let me see if I can get my favorite.”
You had no time to brace yourself before he started rubbing against the sweet spot inside of you, his thumb coming up to circle around your bundle of nerves.
“Hongjoong.” you moaned, wanting nothing more than lay flat against the counter. Your arms shaking as you kept eye contact, the smirk on his face only making things worse.
“There it is.” he chuckled to himself but you could tell he wasn’t satisfied yet. “Let me hear that again.” he said before returning his tongue to replace his thumb, pulling the tie around your neck tighter towards him.
You felt yourself clamp around him so tightly you thought it’d cut off the circulation in his fingers. The only word you were able to get out was his name as you felt the build up of pleasure reaching its highest point.
“Fuck, Hongjoong, feels so good.” you spoke between breaths. He moaned into you, his fingers slowing as you squeezed around them.
He withdrew himself, your body aching at the emptiness just before you reached your orgasm. A whimper fell from you, eyes searching him wildly as he stood.
He fumbled to grasp his belt, hurriedly unbuckling it as he set his dick free from its restraint.
He leaned over you, his hand coming to wrap around your cheek as he mimicked your frown with a mocking tone, “What’s wrong, baby? You don’t want me inside you?”
You shook your head trying to hide your frustration as you licked your lips, “I was so close, Captain.”
“Isn’t it frustrating to not get what you want?” he faked sincerity, thumb moving down to press against your bottom lip.
You nodded, immediately bringing it into your mouth as your tongue wrapped around it.
“Now you know how I’ve felt waiting for you to wear this.” His eyes scanned over the outfit before looking down at your lips, watching as you sucked on the digit.
“Knew you’d look so pretty in it and it was just sitting in a drawer.” His other hand traced the strap of your bra, traveling behind you to unclasp it quickly.
He leaned forward to kiss along your jaw, “And seeing you in this with my jacket-“
He took in a deep breath, peppering open mouth kisses down your throat to your chest.
Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as he sucked your nipple. His teeth grazed it lightly, animalistic as he groaned against you.
“Love when you wear my things. Things I bought you. Things I make for you. I’m going to make you so many pretty things.” he spoke between licks.
“Love marking you. Letting everyone know your mine.” he said, biting down onto the soft skin of your breast.
You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulder as he laughed at the sensation.
“My beautiful baby.” he said, one hand pumping himself while the other drew you in closer by the small of your back.
You exhaled, his words going straight between your legs. You knew he was a territorial man, and you loved that about him. It made you feel safe. Protected. It also made you want to suck the soul out of him.
You bit your lip, feeling even more desperate to feel him. Your body missed him even when he was touching you. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
“All yours.” you spoke as his mouth found your neck again, one hand working on himself while the other grabbed at your chest.
You felt his body twitch against you, his hand moving faster on his dick. The tip leaking into his fist as he lifted his head to meet your gaze.
Your foreheads touching as his lips hung open, “Tell me again.”
“I’m yours, Hongjoong. Only yours.”
His lips found yours and you felt yourself melt into him. He always had the ability to take your breath away, his style of kisses varied but you felt his love for you in everyone. Everytime.
He pulled you towards the edge of the countertop, pressing his tip against your clit, slapping lightly against it from the movement of his hand.
You tried to reach down, to help him. You wanted to touch him, you wanted to make him feel good.
He bit your lip, “No touching, baby. Today is about taking care of you.”
You huffed, needy and pathetic as you tried it again. Hoping he would give in.
You should’ve known better.
He stopped, looking at you with an intensity that made your thighs clench around him.
“Did you not hear me?” his hand moved to the drawer beside your legs as you scrambled to try to explain yourself.
“I just want to make you feel good, Captain.” you pleaded hoping the nickname would soften his mood and reached again. His eyes shut as he took in a sharp breath. His fingers left his dick to wrap around your wrist and held it up to your face, opening his eyes to glare at you.
“Give me your other hand.” he demanded, scowling at you. You could tell the nickname had worked, but not in the way you wanted.
You knew not to make his wait, your other arm lifting shakily to meet the one he held.
He pulled another tie from the drawer, wrapping it around the both of them. The knot he formed digging softly into your skin as he moved to grab them both in one palm.
“You want to make Captain feel good?” he asked, his tone practically singsongy as his free hand moved back to press his tip against you, collecting your arousal.
You nodded, biting down onto your lip as your wrist twisted against the material. He raised them above your head, leaning forwards to push you both to lay back onto the counter. “Yeah?” he cooed, hovering over you.
“Yes, Captain. Please.” you whispered up at him.
“Then take everything I give you, like a good girl.” he said before pushing himself into your leaking hole.
The two of you moaned as he bottomed out. One hand restraining you while the other came to wrap around your hip. He pulled you down closer to sink into his lap, his forehead resting against yours as he whimpered.
“You’re pussy doesn’t want to let me go, baby.” he said as his hips moved back, slowly sliding inch by inch out of you while you laid with your jaw slack. “She’s needy, just like you.” His laugh broke into breaths as he pushed back into you. Your walls immediately squeezing around him.
“Fuck-“ he moaned, “Always so tight for me.”
Your toes curled as he pushed in so deeply you could feel him in your chest.
He held himself there, his breath hitting your face as he stood himself up. “Keep these here or you don’t cum.” he released his grip on your tied wrists before moving his hand to grab your waist fully.
You nodded, panting as you watched his eyes rake over your body. He looked back at you, “And keep your eyes on me.”
He pulled out of you again slowly, the sensation making you back arch as he groaned in response. “Do you know how hard it is to focus in meetings when I know I’m coming home to this?” he said, thrusting into you harshly. Your legs wrap around his back to try to stabilize yourself.
“Can’t pay attention to anything when I’m thinking about you waiting for me all doe eyed.” He set a pace, slamming into you with such consistent force you took your breath away. “Thinking about you walking around, wearing my shirts, laying in my bed. Fuck-“ he gritted through his teeth, “Wanting to be fucked. To be split open on my dick.” His voice broke into a whimper as you matched his pace with your hips.
“God, baby, you feel so fucking good.” he said softly, biting onto his lip as sweat formed across his forehead. “You make me feel fucking good.” he shifted himself to angle into you, hitting your sweet spot and making you cry out.
He laughed, honing in on making sure he hit it again and again, “Right there?”
You scrambled to speak, your throat dry as you breathed out a ‘yes’.
“Eyes on me, you look so pretty when you cum.” he removed a hand from your hip to pull you up by your tie. Your forehead fell against his shoulder as your lips immediately started working on the skin under his jaw.
He grabbed the back of your neck, making you face him as the new upright angle assured he wouldn’t miss your g-spot with every thrust.
You felt yourself squeezing around him as he pressed his thumb back into your mouth. Your tongue swirling around it on autopilot before he pulled it out and brought it between you to press against your clit.
Your breath hitched, forcing your eyes to stay open as you felt your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. He groaned, feeling it too as your walls wrapped to form around him, “I’m not going to last much longer if you keep doing that.”
“Can’t help it, - feels so good.” You breathed, moving back to loop your tied arms around the back of his neck. His finger sped up, his dick twitching inside of you. “Yeah? Does my dick feel good?” he teased, his voice strained.
You nodded, keeping his eye contact, “You feel so good, Captain. You’re so big.”
His eyes rolled, moving his head to latch on your nipple. The extra sensation was almost overwhelming as you did your best to keep hold of his body as he slammed into you.
He sucked hickeys into the skin of your breast, his hips sputtering as his eyebrows furrowed. You could feel your limbs starting to go limp, pleasure taking over you as you tried to warn Hongjoong but no words came out.
Your orgasm hit you, your body trembling as he continued to fuck you through it. Your walls sucking him in so tightly that he followed immediately after with a whine. Unable to stop himself.
“Fuck-“ he groaned, cumming so hard that it began to leak out of you around his dick. “I couldn’t hold-“ you panted, your head falling against him as he brought a hand to hold you still against him. He kissed lazily at your temple, steadying his breathing as he nodded. “It’s okay, just-.” his body shook, his hand trailing softly on the soft skin of your back causing you to shiver. He moaned at your shutter, involuntarily causing you to flutter around his dick that sat inside of you.
He took a breath before continuing, “You’ll remember to tell me this time.”
You lifted your head with a desperate expression, feeling boneless as you felt him stiffen between your legs.
“Hongjoong-“ you tried as he shot you a warning look, withdrawing himself from you.
Before you could even begin to panic or question if you upset him, he lifted your hands from him and spun you over.
His suit jacket slid, the cold marble of the countertop against your nipples and heated skin made you his. Your hands were over your head again, your cheek resting against the surface as you felt him rubbing himself along your entrance.
“You wanted to cum so badly earlier, I’m just trying to give you what you want.” he feigned innocence, pushing himself back into you. The full feeling making your mouth water as you could feel yourself drooling onto the marble.
“I can’t-“ you tried, but his hand cracked against the side of your ass. “You can and you will. You wanted to make me feel good, right?” he stated more than asked, bouncing you off of him so hard you thought you’d give yourself a concussion.
Another slap, “Right?”
“Yes, yes, want to make you feel good.” you nodded frantically, the sensation of your nipples sliding against the cool marble making you practically purr.
“Why would we stop when you’re taking my dick so well, baby?” he pistoned into you, hitting spots inside you didn’t even know existed. You felt so full of him as he fucked his cum deep into you.
Your mind was blank, only able to focus on how good he felt in you.
“Look at you, so wrecked for me. Isn’t that right?” he laughed through pants, and you couldn’t even find the strength to respond. “Don’t tap out on me, if you don’t warm me this time we’ll just keep going until you do.” He threatened, and you snapped back knowing that he meant it.
“There she is.” he smirked, his hand smoothing over the inflamed skin of your ass. “You feel that good, baby?” he kneaded the skin, gripping it to use as a handle to slam you back against him.
You whined, “So big. So full.”
His fingers looped around the back of your tie, pulling your top half to his chest as he pushed further into you to assure you didn’t fall off the island. His other hand moved down to press against your lower stomach as he nipped at your ear, “You feel me here, don’t you??”
You shook your head, “In my throat.”
He chuckled, “Yeah?”
He moved to wrap his fingers around your neck, “Right here?”
He waited until you nodded in response before tightening his hold, your jaw dropping as you did your best to breathe.
His lips stayed pressed to your ear, making sure you heard every sound that you pulled from him. You pouted, you loved hearing him be so vocal. With every groan and whimper, you felt the band in your stomach get tighter.
He laughed softly, biting at your earlobe, “You have something you want to tell me?”
You knew he could feel you gripping him, but you could barely form words with his hand around your throat. You opened and closed your mouth, eyebrows knitting as he continued to push into you with mind numbing force.
His hips tilted to plunge into you so deep it took your breath away. His teeth found your shoulder, moaning into it as his speed picked up.
Your vision blurred, your tied hands coming up to grip at his hand as it immediately dropped from you. “Hongjoong-“ you gasped, pushing your ass against him, “Don’t stop, right there please.”
You felt him twitch, “Fuck Hongjoong please.”
“Please what, baby?”
You were panting, slamming yourself back to him as his fingers bit into your hips with a bruising force. You knew he wasn’t going to last that much longer either.
“Please. I’m gonna’ cum.” you managed to get out, your body arching as you felt yourself locking up.
He brought his finger to play with your oversensitive clit, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t form cohesive thoughts, just crying his name as he fucked you into the counter. Your hips smacking against the marble as his hips slammed into you.
“Good- girl.” he grunted, his fingers speeding up.
“Want this- everyday.” he said, his sweat dripping on to you as you responded with a moan. “Wanna’ come home and fuck you dumb. Wanna hear those pretty sounds.” you wished you could grab him, you wanted to touch him. To ground yourself as he bucked into you relentlessly, you felt overstimulated. Your body shivered against him as you felt your second orgasm approaching with his words.
As if he could read your mind, his hand quickly ripped the tie from your wrist before coming to your chest to pinch your nipple. Your one hand stabilized yourself on the counter while the other moved back to dig into the back of his neck. Holding on for dear life.
“Hongjoong, gonna’ cum.” you got out, your head falling back against him.
“Cum with me, baby.” he repeated over and over, his fingers circling your puffy clit as he pushed into you with so much force you saw stars.
It hit you so hard that no sound came out of you, your mouth open as your walls milked his cock. His body fell forward into you as he groaned loudly.
The two of you just stayed like that, your body unmoving as his hips slowly continued to press into you. Fucking you through the aftershocks until his cum was sliding down your thigh.
He kissed your shoulder, muttering soft praises as his hips came to a stop. His forehead resting against your shoulder blade.
The only sound in the room was your broken breaths as you both tried to come back to reality.
He kissed your shoulder, his hands grabbing the counter on either side of you to push himself up.
He looked down at where he disappeared inside of you, laughing, “You ruined these pants.”
The black fabric was soaked, dripping with a mix of you and him. You scoffed, pressing your forehead against the marble, “You ruined those pants, you should’ve taken them off.”
“You want to say that again?” he amused, his finger ghosting over your overworked and sore bundle of nerves. Your body nearly jumped away from him, he laughed, pulling you back against him. “Don’t run, let’s just stay like this for a minute. You feel so good around me.”
“I swear to God, if you get hard again.” You deflated, your hand idly scratching at his scalp. He hummed, pushing further into you, “You make it so easy though.”
You gasped, pouting, “Please, I am a weak woman.”
He smiled into your skin, kissing your shoulder again.
After a minute he spoke again, “So, what do you think?”
You laughed, looking back at him, “You want ratings now?”
His fingers slapped against where he held your hip, shaking his head and he bit on his lip to stop his smile. “About what I said.”
“You fuck me like that and expect me to be able to hold conversation? What did you say?” you lifted yourself, sliding him out of you slightly. He pulled himself out completely, carefully turning you to sit on the counter and face him.
He combed through your damp hair, “Would you want that- me- everyday?”
“You’re asking if I’d fuck you everyday?” you questioned, laughing to yourself. It wasn’t far off from what you two usually did, apart from the last week.
His head fell forward, cheeks flushing, “No-“
He tucked himself back into his pants, not caring about the mess. He’d probably just buy new ones to replace them.
You pushed back the hair that had stuck to his forehead, He lifted his eyes to look at you, his lips forming a soft smile as he watched you.
“Would you- want to move in here- with me?” he asked quietly, his hand coming to wrap around yours. He moved it to kiss at the top of it, his eyes never leaving yours.
You felt your entire body flush, your heart feeling full as you looked at your usually cool and confident boyfriend. He watched you carefully, his demeanor becoming more and more nervous with every second that went unanswered.
“We’re going to need to clear some of this closet.” you smiled, your arms linking around his back as you looked around your surroundings.
He bit his bottom lip, his hands resting on your waist, “I’ve told you I’ll build you your own.”
“I mean in general, there are some questionable things in here.” you joked. He swore at you, his fingers tickling at your sides as you tried to slap him away.
He moved to lift you, bringing you into him as he carried you over to his bed. He placed you down before hovering over you, “So, is that a yes.”
“I would love to move in with you.” you grinned, your hand lacing in his hair as he moved down to kiss you softly.
His lips molding against yours, your tongue moving to trace along his top lip. He groaned, biting down on your bottom lip. Both of your breathing slowly increase in speed.
His hand trailed down your side as you moaned into him. “Still sensitive?” he mumbled into your lips.
You nodded a mixture of desire and defeat in your tone, “I can go again if you can.”
He grabbed your wrist, moving it to his erection and wrapping your fingers around it, “What do you think?”
You whimpered, remembering his size. Remembering how it just fit so snuggly in you moments ago. Your core is already throbbing despite its soreness.
You unzipped his pants and slid your hand into them. Your started working him slowly, his breath hitching as he fully moved on the bed. His legs came up to rest on top of the mattress.
You continued to pump him, watching his eyes flutter shut as you crawled to move between his legs.
Something shiny catching your eye.
“Hongjoong!” you yelped, causing him to spring into attention. You moved your hand to point down at his feet, “Take your shoes off!”
“You just decided to move in and you’re already making demands?” he laughed, kicking them off his feet and onto the floor before you slid his pants down to follow them.
“Regretting your decision already?” you asked, satisfied at the removal before leaning between his legs.
He laughed, his head resting against his headboard, “Alittle-“ before he could finish his thought, you wrapped your lips around him. Doing exactly what he had done to you earlier. Your tongue moving to circle his tip as you continued working him with your hand. He laughed gently, his eyes finding yours, “You brat.”
You pulled up to correct him, “Your brat.”
His fingers laced in your hair as you took him in your mouth, exhaling as he held it back from his view, “My brat.”
He groaned so strongly you felt it in your own chest. “My brat.” he repeated, as you hollowed your cheeks around him. Your head bobbed as you inched him further and further into your throat slowly.
His moans quickened, getting higher in pitch as they turned to whines. Once he bottomed out you swallowed around him, his hands stilling you as you remembered to breathe through your nose.
“Too good- too much.” he whimpered, “Need to cum in you again.”
The second his hands left your head, you slowly trailed back up his cock. Your tongue traces it as you reach the top. You sucked against his tip, his hips jutting upwards, “Baby, please.”
You cocked an eyebrow, he had never begged you in bed before.
Before you could move again, he looked down at you realizing what he had done, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
His tone was stern enough to almost wipe any plan you began to formulate in your mind.
Almost.
You bat your eyes innocently up at him as you suck his tip back into your mouth. Your tongue licking the precum leaking from it.
You had been too obedient to him the last time around so you needed to remind him exactly who you were.
He hissed, his chest heaving as you repeated it one more time before releasing him with a pop. His dick slapping against his stomach.
“You want to be in control? Get up here and ride me.” his hand slid to slap lightly against your cheek. A warning for if you tried to do anything other than what he had said.
You nodded, moving your way up his body, kissing at his stomach and chest up to his neck. Your teeth grazed the skin below his ear as he lined himself up with your hole. The feeling alone is already making you wince.
You will be very sore tomorrow.
“I’ve fucked you dumb today, now I want you to do it to yourself.” he said before lifting his hips to enter you, his hand on your hips as he pushed you down to meet him. “Show me how much you love my dick.” he growled up at you, not moving an inch. He removed his hands from you, lacing them behind his head. You frowned, still taking in the stretch of him. “What’s wrong?” he spoke in a condescending tone, “You wanted to take charge a second ago.”
His voice made you clench, his upper half jutting forward at the sensation. “Oh I see-“ he said, his hands moving back to your hips. He lifted you with ease, sliding you up himself before pushing you back down slowly. “You really are my brat, aren’t you?” he asked, catching your open mouth as he continued to use you like a fleshlight.
You nodded, growing impatient at his pace, “I’m sorry, Captain. Please-“
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll help you-“ he said before he slowly started grinding you faster against him but not nearly as fast as you’d like to be. “I’ll get you there, baby.” His hand fell to your clit, making you wince as it throbbed against him.
You knew neither of you would last very long, but his tone was certainly helping you. He doubled his speed, grunting as you could tell he was trying to hold himself back, You already started to clench around him, the build up beginning as you could help but smile through the overstimulation. Tears flowing down your face as you felt yourself reaching a third orgasm.
“Hongjoong- I’m gonna-“
At those words he ceased movement.
You whined, looking down at him with wide eyes.
“I said I’ll get you there, now take charge like you wanted.” he challenged you, his eyebrows raising as he smirked. His breathing was quick and you could tell that this was making him just as impatient as you were, but he loved to teach you a lesson. “Unless, you want me to do it?” he asked, raising himself to place a hand at the small of your back. He pushed up into you, his lips finding your chest as he kissed down it. “Beg me.” he said, his tongue trailing down to catch your nipple.
You pushed him down to rest against the headboard, not ready to give up yet. He watched you in amusement as you leaned back to place your hands on his knees. You moved your feet to lay flat on either side of his hips, lifting yourself before going back down. “You sounded so pretty when you begged, Captain. Why don’t you beg me?”
His face twisted, trying to keep calm as you began to bounce yourself on him. He groaned, biting down on his lip. You were panting, fucking yourself on him as you pinched at your nipple. “You told me to fuck you, I’m just being your good girl.” you breathed, the new angle hitting you in just the right spot.
He watched with angry eyes as your other hand trailed between your legs, his chest heaving as he smacked your hand before you could relieve yourself.
He pushed forward, slamming you onto your back and hovering over you.
His hand gripped your thigh, pushing your leg to rest against his chest as he buried himself deep inside of you. “You want me to beg? You think you can fuck yourself as good as I can?” his pace was already relentless, your mouth hanging open. He pinched your chin between his index finger and thumb, “Tongue.”
You happily stuck it out, too blissed out to care. He spit onto it, moving his hand to slap your jaw shut. “Swallow it.” you did, opening again to show your clean tongue.
“Why don’t you introduce yourself to the new neighbors?” he said, lifting your other leg and leaning his chest against them. His dick feeling so deep inside you, you thought it would come out of your mouth. You gasped, “Hongjo-“
“Louder.”
You whimpered, unable to do anything as he licked his fingers and pressed them against your clit. Your body jolted as he masterfully played your body like an instrument. “They can’t hear you, speak up.” he said, his hand slapping against your clit as you cried out.
“What? Did I finally fuck the attitude out of you?”
You squeezed him, causing him to inhale sharply. “No, you just like when I treat you like the slut you are.” he began to rub you again.
The pleasure verges on painful, feeling so full and so worked by him that you begin to cry. He pulled your legs off of him, placing them on either side of him as he sank down to meet you. His hips and fingers are still working you as if it was nothing. He kissed up your face, his tongue licking at the water that gathered on your cheeks.
“I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” he said, his pace faltering as he twitched inside of you. “This is my pussy, not yours. Every inch of you belongs to me. Don’t forget that.” His words made your eyes roll, your walls squeezing around him as your vision went white. “Hongjoong- I’m gonna-“ you got out.
He laughed, “Let me feel my pussy milk me.”
That was all you needed, your head rolling back as you shook, crying out loud enough that the next neighborhood over could probably hear you. He fucked you through it, his movements sloppy as he came inside of you. Your insides pulling every string of cum from his throbbing dick as he fell on top of you.
“Fuck, baby.” he sighed, kissing any piece of skin he could reach in his flattened state.
You laughed, your head still spinning as you continued to flutter around him, “I know, I’m amazing.”
“If you’re trying to bait me, I think you’ve cleaned me out but we can try-“
“No!” you exclaimed, the idea of going again made you shuttered. Hongjoong hissed as the movement echoed on his dick still inside of you, “Baby.”
“You’re on top of me, I can’t do anything.” you groaned, as he attempted to lift himself before falling back on top of you.
He nuzzled his face into your chest, “I don’t think my bones work anymore, let’s just rest like this.”
“I want dinner.” you stated honestly, the workout you both endured leaving you dying of thirst and wanting food. Your stomach growling just at the mention of food.
“Do you think if I write it in the instructions, I can get the delivery guy to bring the food to us up here?” he questioned, his chin resting to look you in the eyes.
You hummed, contemplating the logistics of the situation. Your fingers running through his hair as he smiled softly at you, “I don’t know how good that’d be for your image.”
“So what if the delivery man sees my ass.” he teased, carefully withdrawing himself from you as he made his way to his closet.
You questioned how he was able to walk around, feeling as if every muscle in your body would melt if you attempted to do the same. He came back in a pair of sweats, fixing his t-shirt as he approached the bed with a second one.
He leaned down, extending his neck to you, “Grab on.”
Your hands slapped against him as he stood, lifting you to sit. He placed a hand against your back, using the other to throw the shirt on you before pressing his lips against your clammy forehead.
“I’ll draw you a bath and order some food.” he whispered, kissing you again.
You smiled, moving your head so you could catch his lips. “Is this the Kim House Standard that I should be expecting from now on?”
He mocked offense, backing from you, "You act like I don’t spoil you rotten.”
You giggled, watching as he made his way to the bathroom, laying back onto your bed. You looked at the ceiling and asked yourself how the hell you got this life.
Hongjoong returned, leaning against the bedroom door frame, “So, now that we’re going to be living together, am I going to hear more of those little impressions?”
“Only if you’re good.” you quipped back, closing your eyes before your body was dragged down the bed by your ankle.
in which: you have a dream about your best friend that shines him in a new light.
pair: jongho/afab!reader
word count: 7.3k
content: college au, sex, protected sex, completely consensual
rating: R — nsfw | mdni
“Listen, all I can really say is that if she wanted to do well on the project, she would’ve pulled her weight,” Jongho grumbled.
You and Jongho were getting lunch in between classes. The two of you usually talked about classes during your break, and that day, you decided to bring up the last group project that you worked on. Jongho had to carry his team while you ended up having a blast with your own, making him all the more salty.
“Yeah, but that’s no reason to make her cry,” you pointed out.
“It’s her fault for not doing the work.”
“Jongho, she was your girlfriend. You didn’t have to be so mean.”
“Was, thank God,” Jongho let out a sigh of relief. “Honestly this whole dating thing is such bullshit— I just want to get my degree and get out of here.”
“Wow. How romantic,” you said sarcastically and rolled your eyes.
“Shut up,” Jongho retorted while throwing a fry at your face. “It’s your fault I was dating her in the first place.”
“I said go on one date with her. No one told you to ask her to be your girlfriend.”
“Yeah, well… Shut up.”
You shrugged, a smug smile appearing on your face as you realized that you won that argument. Jongho took a bite of his burger, annoyance written all over his face as you rubbed your smug smile. Jongho chose to fully ignore you at that point, making you turn to your phone to see that you were going to be late for your next class if you didn’t haul your ass out of there.
“Hey, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight?” you asked him.
“Yeah. See ya,” Jongho responded with a nod and a light wave.
There was a Tuesday night tradition you, Jongho, and a couple other friends from school had— Trivia Night. One of your other friends worked at the bar that hosted the trivia, which is how you came to know of it in the first place.
That being said, even though you went for trivia, you guys never actually played. It was more of an excuse to go drinking in the middle of the week than anything, which meant every Tuesday, you and your friends were drinking way too much and screwing yourselves over for classes the next day.
“Hey, Joong!” you said, your words staring to slur together. “Let’s do a shot together.”
“Yeah! All of us!” your friend, Mingi, added as he hugged you from behind.
“Fine, last round, and then I’m sending you home,” Hongjoong replied while rolling his eyes, a playful smile on his face.
“Good idea. Y/N’s been getting a little handsy with me,” another friend, Yunho, said as he brushed your straying hand off his thigh— you couldn’t help it; you were an affectionate drunk.
The five of you clinked glasses and took your shots, Yunho and Jongho doing it with ease while you and Mingi made faces as the liquor burned your throats.
“Hey, so did you guys look into your classes for next semester?” Jongho asked.
“Not yet,” Yunho shook his head. “I’m guessing you have?”
“Yeah. We have to take the senior colloquium, so why don’t we all try for the same time and recitation? Keep us sane in our last semester of college.”
“Alright, that sounds good,” you giggled and hugged Jongho. “It’ll be fun to have a final class together.”
Mingi settled for nodding while also giggling. Jongho wanted to talk about the matter further, but you and Mingi were just far too gone to have a proper conversation at that point, so he just settled for talking to the group about it when you all were sober.
You were still clinging to Jongho as he sat quietly and thought about classes while sipping his beer, your head on his shoulder, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he was lost deep in thought, and your drunk self thought it was the perfect time to nuzzle your nose in his neck.
“What? Why?” you complained as Jongho got out of your embrace and grabbed your arm to put over his shoulder.
“Because you’re done.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because I know. Let’s go home before you yak on the bar again,” Jongho shut you down and started dragging you out of the bar. “Yunho, let me know how much we owe you after you close the tab.”
“Will do!” Yunho responded cheerfully as he watched Jongho drag you away.
“Bye Yuyu, Mango, Joong!” you managed to say before leaving the establishment.
The walk home was atrocious for Jongho. You refused to walk in a straight line and kept trying to pull him towards any bar that you passed, and at some point, Jongho had enough and made you get on his back so he could piggyback you back to your apartment. His patience was wearing thinner as you started playing with his hair and tickling his neck, but you were his best friend, and you were drunk out of your fucking mind, so he was going to be there for you.
By the time Jongho got you home, you were practically falling asleep on his back— he had a very comfy back, not going to lie. He put you down right in front of your door, but instead of reaching for your keys, you slumped onto him, his chest catching you before you went tumbling down.
And then, you blacked out.
You woke up the next morning with a horrible hangover and absolutely no memory of how you got back from the bar in the first place— you remembered Jongho walking you home, but how you ended up in your bed was a complete mystery to you. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind, that you did something you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was, nor did you have the time to ponder it because you had to get your ass out of bed and onto campus.
Your first class was absolute torture, your headache intensifying as the lecture went on and on, and by the time the class was over, you were ready to fall over. You trudged out of the classroom to see your friends waiting for you— they usually waited for you after your Wednesday morning class so that all four of you could grab lunch— Yunho immediately pulling you in for a hug.
“You look like shit,” he commented while hugging you.
“Wow, really? I had no idea,” you responded with heavy sarcasm.
“What the fuck happened to you last night for you to look like this?” Mingi asked.
“I have no fucking clue,” you groaned. “All I remember is leaving the bar…”
But, your statement was drowned out by Mingi as he dramatically grabbed his chest and gasped, “Did you and Jongho go and drink more without us?!”
“Yeah, no. Y/N was too wasted for that,” Jongho shook his head. “I took her home directly.”
“I guess the hangover is only hitting so hard because I’m not as young as I used to be,” you sighed loudly.
“…We’re all in our early twenties. Shut up,” Yunho said while rolling his eyes.
“I dunno man, Jongho acts like an old man a lot,” Mingi said with a slight giggle. “I think he’s in his eighties.”
As the three boys bickered, your mind lingered on Jongho’s words. He took you home directly, and you remembered that, but… How the hell did you get into your apartment? And why was the weird feeling still lingering?
“Hey,” you pulled Jongho out of the argument and to the side, the two tall men still walking without realizing you and Jongho were no longer walking with them. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Jongho agreed, the two of you moving to the side of the hallway.
“Did… Did something happen last night?” you asked. “Because I have this nagging feeling that I did something, but I… I don’t know what.”
“Don’t worry about it, and just sleep it off,” Jongho replied. “Look, I gotta get to class. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Right, yeah, okay…” you trailed off as Jongho left you standing there more confused than ever.
Because what did he mean by “don’t worry about it”? What the fuck did you do last night?
You decided to take matters into your own hands. After you were done with classes for the day, you went straight to the bar because, Goddammit, you needed answers or at least some clarity.
“Joong!” you called loudly the second you got into the bar. “I have a question for you!”
You plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools and looked at the bartender, a determined glint in your eye, but a heavy sigh on your lips.
“Geez, you look like shit,” Hongjoong commented on your appearance the second he stood in front of you.
“That seems to be the general consensus today… Ugh, anyway. Did I do something wrong last night?”
“What?” Hongjoong’s face twisted in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Like… Okay, I feel like I did something I shouldn’t have done last night,” you explained. “And I’m trying to figure it out.”
“You were fine here— well, you were shit-faced, and Jongho took you home, and that’s about it,” the bartender recollected. “You didn’t do anything outta pocket.”
“Okay… I still feel like… I’m missing something,” you grumbled to yourself, but the man could still hear you.
“Why don’t you ask Jongho since he walked you home last night?”
“See, I tried doing that, but he told me “don’t worry about it”,” you said, exasperated, while using air quotes. “What the fuck does that mean— What should I not worry about?!”
“I don’t know!” Hongjoong held his arms up as if you were holding him at gunpoint and demanding answers. “The only thing I can say is ask him again, or maybe sleep on it, and it’ll come to you.”
“So helpful,” you couldn’t help but be sarcastic. “Fine, I’ll sleep on it. Thanks for the help, Joong.”
You got off the stool and were about to head for the exit when the bartender asked, “So you’re not going to get a drink?”
“Are you fucking kidding— No! Bye, Joong!”
“Hey, Jongho?”
The two of you were sitting on your couch— Jongho came over after he finished his classes for the day.
“What’s up?”
“Are you sure I didn’t do anything that night?” you asked him, your voice slightly wavering.
“I told you not to worry about it,” he responded with a sigh.
“No, but I’m going to worry about it because I want to know!” you exclaimed. “You being all vague and shit about it just makes me more concerned, and I just need you to tell me for my own sanity.”
Jongho let out yet another sigh. He looked straight at you, his eyes meeting yours. You never realized how pretty his eyes were until you made proper eye contact, and the bigger his eyes got, the prettier they became. Then, you realized that his eyes were not getting bigger, but he was moving closer to you. You leaned backwards, your back hitting the arm rest as he pinned you against it, his light exhale flitting past your cheek.
“You really want to know?” he asked, his voice lower and softer than usual.
“I… I do. I do want to know.”
Shocks ran through your body when he caressed your face lightly, his dainty fingertips rubbing lightly against your ear. He leaned in closer to you, making you squeeze your eyes shut since you assumed that he was going to kiss you. Instead, he whispered in your ear, “You told me you loved me.”
He leaned away, allowing you to look at him with complete and utter shock. You tried to brush off the tension building in the room and between your legs as you responded as light-heartedly as you could, “But I always tell you that I love you.”
“Yes, but…” Jongho placed his hand on your thigh and slowly moved it upwards, his voice dropping even lower. “Last night, you told me that you meant it, that you were in love with me.”
Your jaw dropped. Your eyes darted back and forth, and your heart rate picked up as you tried to make sense of the situation— his words, his actions, and your body’s reactions.
“I— I did?” you whispered.
“Yes, and then,” Jongho’s voice also hushed to a whisper as he leaned close to you once more, his hand going further along your thigh, nearing your crotch. “You kissed me.”
“I… I— I,” you stammered, not a single coherent thought left in your brain.
Your brain only got emptier when you felt his soft lips against yours, your body immediately melting into his comfortable touch. You reciprocated his kiss, your hands unconsciously moving from his shoulders to his neck, bringing you closer to him. Your body lurched towards his when you felt his hand move around to your ass, the man firmly cupping it while his other hand slipped under your shirt and traced the curve of your waist, a soft moan playing on your lips.
“Just admit it,” he said softly with his lips still pressed against yours. “You love me, and I love you, too.”
His teeth got a hold of your lower lip and tugged it upwards as his hand started kneading your breast, making you gasp. Then, his patience started wearing thin. He lifted your shirt and moved your bra up to reveal your breasts, his mouth immediately going right for your nipple, and as he sucked, his hands pulled your pants down to reveal your soaking cunt. You were moaning loudly at that point, Jongho’s name barely rolling off your tongue.
When Jongho slipped his slender fingers into you, your entire body reacted. Your back arched, your toes curled, and your hands ran through his hair and gripped it tightly, his fingers pleasuring you greatly. He kept curling them inside you, searching for your G-spot, and once he found it, you cried loudly and sat up in bed.
In bed?
You looked around. Jongho was nowhere to be found, and you were in bed, awake. What the fuck… was that? You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and shifted in bed, only to feel something wet between your legs. You lifted your duvet to see that you were sitting on clean sheets, but soaking up your panties was your arousal.
Did you seriously just have a sex dream about your best friend?
You were mortified with yourself. For the rest of that week, you avoided Jongho like the plague because every single time you saw him, guilt pricked at your skin, brain, and heart. How could you dream of your best friend like that and then see him in the same way ever again? How were you supposed to act normal around him?
And so, you avoided the shit out of him. Seriously. You made sure to use the other exit from your classroom so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the group walking with you, and you ditched all of your regular spots because, fuck, you had no idea how you were going to be normal around him when you couldn’t even be normal with yourself before sleeping.
Because, truth is, that dream did something to you. Any time Jongho popped into your mind, your cunt would clench, and your body would rush with heat; and if you thought about him at night, you desperately had to do something about it. So, basically, every night, you were touching yourself while thinking about your friend— your best friend. What the fuck was wrong with you?
You were forced to meet with the group on Tuesday— Yunho left you a very long, very angry, very drunk voicemail telling you that if you didn’t show up on Tuesday, he was going to murder you. You doubted him, but when you heard Jongho and Mingi try to hold him back in the voicemail, you decided it wasn’t worth risking it.
You and Mingi were the first ones there, the two of you sitting in awkward silence as Hongjoong served you your drinks.
“Okay, um, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mingi asked after taking a solid sip of his beer.
“W-What do you mean?”
“You’ve been avoiding us all fucking week! Did we do something wrong, or like, do you hate us or—”
“Oh my God, Mingi, no,” you immediately assured the guy. “I wasn’t trying to avoid all of you! Just…”
“Just what?”
“I was avoiding Jongho…”
“What the fuck? Why?” Mingi’s tone went from accusatory to worried and sympathetic, making you relax a little bit.
“Okay, so, uh… The other night… I… I may or may not have had a sex dream about Jongho… And when I woke up, I just… I got super turned on.”
“Wait, was it a wet dream?”
“I don’t know… Can girls even have wet dreams?”
“Well… Sounds like a wet dream to me,” Mingi answered after pondering the idea for a little.
“Great. Either way, I can’t even look at him the same way anymore. Fucking kill me,” you groaned as you laid your head on the bar top.
“Wait, so why’d you even dream about it?”
“I don’t know, man! I’ve been friends with the guy for fucking years, and this is the first time I’ve ever dreamt about him like that— and what’s worse is that he was so fucking good in my dream! Ugh, I wanna die!”
Mingi, who found the whole ideal hysterical, was laughing his ass off as he watched you get more and more mortified by the second.
“Did you ever figure out what happened that night, Y/N?” Hongjoong entered the conversation, making Mingi’s laughter die down a little.
“No,” you sulked. “I never got the chance to ask him again… I asked him in that dream, though.”
That made Mingi laugh all over again. He was clutching his stomach and laughing until he started crying, and he continued to laugh his ass off even when Yunho arrived. Well, he was still laughing, but he was able to wheeze to Yunho, “Dude, listen to this—”
“Mango, shut the fuck up!” you kicked Mingi in the shin, although that did nothing to the guy.
“Y/N had a random sex dream about Jongho!” Mingi barely said before laughing all over again.
“Really?” Yunho asked— he didn’t seem surprised, though.
“Yeah,” you said sadly.
“Well, I guess it makes sense that you’d have a sex dream about him considering what you did,” Yunho pondered out loud.
Mingi stopped laughing, and you, Hongjoong, and Mingi all stared at the tall man, Hongjoong asking, “What the fuck did she do?”
“She kissed him.”
The three of you stared at Yunho with wide eyes and dropped jaws.
“What?!”
“Yeah, Jongho told me about it.”
Your brain, at that point, was erroring out as it tried to recollect the events of that night while Mingi, on the other hand, was so insulted.
“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?!” he asked, feigning injury.
“I thought he told you! What do you want me to do about it?”
“Just check in with me next time! We should share everything with each other, Yunho.”
Yunho and Mingi continued to bicker in the background as you finally, finally, remembered what happened that night.
“Y/N, you’re home,” he said quietly while standing you upright. “Where are your keys?”
“In my pocket," you said with a slight giggle— the jeans you had on actually had front pockets, so you usually stashed your keys in there so you wouldn’t have to wear a purse when you had those jeans on.
With a sigh, Jongho carefully dug into your pocket, his fingers lightly grazing your upper thigh. You couldn’t help but let out a little moan; his action was so minimal and unintentional, but it still felt fucking good. God, you were definitely wasted.
Then, a crazy thought entered your drunken brain. You realized that you needed to thank Jongho for getting you home safe. Granted, it was his job as your best friend (not really, but what are friends for?) to make sure you made it home, but you still had to thank him, right? So, right after Jongho unlocked your door and opened it for you, you grabbed him by the collar, and you thanked him by kissing him.
To be honest, it was the world’s most anti-climactic kiss. Your lips just pressed against his, and that was it. When you moved away, you could see that Jongho was in complete shock, his jaw dropped slightly. His eyes were darting back and forth as he tried to decipher what the fuck you just did. His hands, which were previously on your shoulders, dropped to the side, limp.
That’s when you made the situation worse. You pulled him towards you again and kissed him properly. It was a gentle kiss, your lips enveloping his upper lip, your hand moving from his collar to his neck to make the kiss the slightest bit more sensual. And, to your surprise, you felt his hands on your waist. He reciprocated the kiss, bringing his body closer to yours as he kissed you more passionately. You were practically melting in his arms the longer he kissed you, your brain officially erroring out as you lost yourself in him.
When the chain of kisses ended, you found yourself dazed. You truly didn’t know what to say or do, so you just patted his chest and whispered, “I… Uh… Good night, Jongho…”
Jongho seemed unfazed, as if he wasn’t just making out with you seconds prior. He nodded and patted your head while responding, “Good night, Y/N. Sleep well.”
“Yeah, you too…”
Brain fuzzy, you crashed in your bed, your face still rosy and your lips slightly sore from kissing your best friend. Your best fucking friend.
You buried your face in your hands when you realized what you did, your mind chanting “what the fuck?” over and over again. You felt someone’s hand on your shoulder, but there was no way you were going to be consoled so easily.
“Y/N, don’t worry about it. It was a tiny mistake,” Hongjoong said softly. “We all know that you’re not usually like that.”
“I’m sick and tired of people telling me not to worry about it,” you groaned. “And being drunk is not an excuse… I… What do I do?”
The four of you were silent until Yunho said quietly, “I think you should just talk to him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, just talk it through. You guys are best friends, and I don’t like seeing the two of you avoiding each other.”
“Wait,” your head snapped up. “What do you mean each other? I thought I was avoiding him…”
“Why do you think he’s not here right now?” Yunho pointed out.
You gaped. Trivia was about to start soon, and Jongho was nowhere in sight.
“Where is he?”
All you did was kiss the guy, but you felt the guilt weighing on your shoulders not just because of the kiss but because of everything else you did following the kiss. The guy was your best friend for crying out loud. If it was just the kiss, you would’ve apologized immediately, and all would’ve been well, but the dreams just made it so much harder for you to do anything— even knocking on his apartment door was fucking difficult.
You somehow mustered the courage to do it, and after a couple of seconds, Jongho answered the door. He was wearing his standard class outfit: jeans, a hoodie, and a jean jacket; but he looked so fucking hot, so boyfriend material in them, that your heart actually skipped a beat or two.
“Hey,” Jongho spoke first, pulling you out of your head before you could spiral into a dizzy daydream.
“H-Hey, uh… Can I come in?”
Holding the door open, Jongho invited you in. You walked in hesitantly, awkwardly. You’d been in his apartment so many Goddamn times, so you shouldn’t have been so timid, but your anxiety truly got the better of you.
The two of you ended up taking a seat at his tiny dining table, the man sitting across from you. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you looked down and tried to spit out something, anything.
“So…” you finally uttered. “I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?” Jongho genuinely sounded confused.
“I got really drunk the other night—”
“Y/N, it’s fine. I told you not to worry about it.”
“No! It’s not fine, Jongho,” you shook your head. “I— I came onto you, which was totally not cool of me, and I’m really sorry for that. I don’t like that you’re uncomfortable around me, which is totally valid considering what I did, but like… You’re my best friend, and it’s so weird that we’re avoiding each other like this…”
“Wait… Huh?”
“What?”
“I didn’t think you remembered, which is why I told you to not worry about it,” Jongho explained.
“I mean, I didn’t at first, but then it came rushing back to me like just now at the bar after Yunho told me what I did, and God, I feel awful for doing that to you,” you rambled.
“Why do you feel awful?”
“Because I kissed you without consent…? Isn’t that why you were avoiding me?”
“That… That wasn’t nonconsensual, Y/N…” Jongho started mumbling as the tips of his ears turned red.
“What… Um, what do you mean, Jongho?” you asked in a small voice.
“I mean…”
Jongho pressed his lips together and looked away, his ears turning redder as he ran his fingers through his hair. The guy was embarrassed as fuck, but he still managed to look so attractive that it made your heart, and your cunt, clench hard. He left his hand on the back of his head as he brought his gaze back to you.
“I kissed you back…”
Your jaw dropped slightly. Stammering, you asked, “S-So… What, uh.. What does that mean?”
“That I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I like you. And I was avoiding you because… Well, I didn’t want you to know that I, uh, had feelings… For you…”
Your face erupted into flames. You looked straight down at your lap, your eyes darting back and forth as you tried to make sense of the situation. The two of you were absolutely silent as clouds of embarrassment and slight tension filled the room.
“Wait…” Jongho broke the silence. “So, if you just remembered, then why were you avoiding me?”
“O-Oh… Because…” you forced yourself to get the words out— knowing him, he wouldn’t let you go without a proper explanation, and there was no way you were going to be able to lie to him at that point. Plus, even if you didn’t tell him, Mingi was going to, and it was definitely better that you told him than your dumbass friend.
“Spit it out, Y/N,” Jongho said, his voice breaking you out of your trance.
“Right.. Because I, uh… I had a sex dream about you… And now I can’t… Not see you… In… That… Way…”
And with that, you buried your face in your hands, trying to extinguish the red on your face; you could practically feel steam leaving your ears because of how embarrassed you were.
Jongho, meanwhile, was completely taken aback, but in the best way possible. If you were dreaming about him in that sense, did that mean you liked him back? That the feelings were mutual? That the kiss actually meant something whether you realized it or not?
While you were dying of embarrassment, Jongho hugged you— he thought he was reassuring you, but it only made you more shy and a little turned on feeling the way he hugged you securely to his surprisingly firm yet soft chest (you hugged him all the fucking time, so why you were only noticing it now was a mystery to you). You were so ready to let out a squeal— more like a dying dolphin noise— of embarrassment when you felt him choke down a chuckle and start petting your hair. Goddammit, was he trying to drive you insane?
Luckily, Jongho didn’t push the topic further (yet). The embarrassment slowly died down, and when you felt your heart unclench, you timidly hugged him back, and once you calmed down enough, he let go of you. Then, he fucking made your heart skip a million beats when he brushed your hair out of your face and looked at you with the softest eyes you had ever seen on him. You had seen him with plenty of girlfriends in the past, but this was the first time you had ever seen him display so much affection— and for you, of all people.
At some point, the two of you migrated to his sofa where you were sipping on water on one end of the long sofa and he was sitting in the arm chair next to the sofa like a fucking king. You had to keep your eyes on your water because if you got even the tiniest glimpse of his thighs and the way he was manspreading, you would fully combust.
“Y/N,” Jongho asked, his voice softer than ever.
“Yes!” you sat up attentively. “I-I mean, yeah…?”
You for sure thought Jongho was going to laugh at your actions, but he didn’t. He looked like everything was normal, but his ears were bright red once again.
“So…” he started. “In this dream… What happened?”
You choked on your water. You knew he was going to ask at some point, but you didn’t think he would actually ask you. You set the cup of water down on the coffee table in front of you and sighed softly before explaining the dream to him.
And as you explained your dream to him, Jongho’s face didn’t change in the slightest. He took all of your words in and just kept nodding, making it a little easier for you to tell him. Finally, after you finished retelling your dream— you only told him the dream that started all because God forbid he ever found out about you touching yourself while thinking about him in your dreams— he nodded and said, “Oh, wow… Hopefully, I live up to the way you dream made me out to be… Well, only if you’re okay with that.”
You blinked and froze, the words slowly starting to sink in. Was he asking for consent? Oh my God, did he want to fuck you?!
Without realizing it, you nodded slowly, your body taking over your mind. Then, you whispered, “I’d… I’d like to experience it for real…” giving him the verbal consent that he wanted.
Jongho held out his hand, willing you to hold it. He tugged your hand to make you get up and stand before him, and before you knew it, you were straddling him, your ass pressing against his knees. He was looking up at you with the softest, sparkliest eyes that you’d ever seen on him, making your heart skip a beat but in a way that was different from the way your wet dream version of him did.
With one hand on your back and the other weaving his fingers through your hair, Jongho led your head to meet his, his lips pressing against yours softly. He kissed you slowly, passionately. You were holding onto his shoulders at first, only for you to move your hand to his face and cup his cheek, the kisses deepening, your tongue slipping into his mouth as you felt your body slowly start to heat up.
His hands moved from your hair and back to your thighs, the palms of his hands rubbing against your clothed thighs so slowly and sensually that electricity zapped through all of your nerves. He let out little gasps and groans in between your kisses, his fingers pressing into your thighs when you tugged upwards on his lower lip.
Jongho was a lot more calculative with his actions in real life than in your dreams. His hands trailed from your thighs to around your butt, only to rest on the small of your back, his fingers teasing you by tugging at the waistband of your pants but not actually moving them down. You whined lightly against his lips, your hands gripping the collar of his jean jacket to get him to stop teasing you and start stripping both you and him down.
What sold him on moving faster was not the threat of your grip, but the way you were rolling your hips into him, the slightest movement making the bulge in his pants grow bigger and tighter; and it certainly did not help when you ran your fingers along his neck, one finger lingering on the little mole on his neck.
His intensity increased immediately. His hands went under your thighs and shifted you so that you were straddling only one of his thighs. He pushed down on your waist so that you were fully sitting on his thigh before running his hands up your shirt, his fingers brushing along the sensitive spots on your back.
The two of you only stopped kissing when you forced him to take off his jacket and when he helped you get out of your shirt, his eyes scanning your body as you tossed the shirt to the side.
“W-What? What is it?” you whispered, suddenly self-conscious and slightly reluctant to take your bra off.
“You’re stunning, Y/N,” he breathed out, his hands tracing the curve of your waist.
The compliment made you all sorts of shy all over again, making you bury your face in the nook of his neck. Jongho used that opportunity to unhook your bra, the straps slipping off your shoulders the second the band released. You ended up slipping the bra off, leaving your entire torso exposed. You felt the blush on your face get more intense when his hands and lips roamed your body, the man’s eyelashes fluttering as he left tiny, soft kisses along your skin.
Your hips resumed rolling, your clothed cunt rubbing along his thigh as his hands cupped and clutched your breasts. His hands kneaded your breasts continuously as he left little pink marks along your collarbone, chest, cleavage; and finally, when his mouth found your nipples, his hands moved back to your ass and held the underside of your ass securely as he sucked and nibbled on your tit.
“Jongho!” you cried as you flung your head back. “I— Angh— I—!”
You couldn’t form a single thought the second he started moving the waistband of your pants down. The only thing you could do was forcibly move his head up so that he was forced to look into your eyes, his dark hair covering his sparkling eyes slightly.
“I want you to fuck me already,” you whispered— more like whimpered— while grasping the collar of his shirt.
Wordlessly and effortlessly, Jongho stood up with you in his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around him as he carried you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed gently before starting to slowly remove his own clothes.
It was dark in his room, but thanks to the moonlight and the lights from the city, you were able to see his muscles and toned body reveal themselves as the clothes came off, and when he took off his pants, you saw that his cock, his girthy cock, was impatient and ready to go— you couldn’t even imagine the amount of self-restraint he was using if his cock was that red and angry.
Jongho turned to his nightstand and produced a condom. He tore the packet open and tossed it somewhere before rolling the condom on and getting on the bed next to you.
“C’mere,” he whispered as he laid down.
Soon, you were straddling him once more, your wet cunt hovering above his erect cock. At first, you thought he was going to ask you to ride him, but instead, he pulled your arms down so that you were essentially pinning him down, his lips making contact with yours as your chest pressed against his. His fingers ran through your hair and held the back of your head as he pushed your face closer to his, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth.
You were so distracted by his tongue dancing with yours that you didn’t even realize his hands moved to your ass and his cock, lining up your entrance with the tip before pushing you down slowly, the girth of his cock spreading you so wide that you thought you were going to tear.
You cried against his mouth as he filled you up, your ass pressing against his thighs as he remained still inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around his fat cock, making him sharply inhale in between kisses, a little grunt escaping him shortly thereafter.
After a couple of seconds, you were able to relax your pussy just enough to start moving comfortably, your ass slapping his waist lightly as you moved your waist up and down. You moved slowly and gently at first as you moaned against Jongho’s lips, your chest rubbing against his, your nipples getting more sore by the second.
But, you were going a little too slow for the man underneath you. His hands, still on your ass, held onto you tightly as his waist jerked upwards. Your ass slapped against his waist so hard that the sound echoed in the room, and it felt so fucking good that your lips left Jongho’s so you could cry out in pleasure.
Jongho wanted to hear those cries more, so he continued to ram his waist upwards, and as he did so, he moved your ass so that he was continuously rubbing against your G-spot, making your orgasm arrive way sooner than you expected. You moaned loudly and dropped your head into the nook of his neck as you came, your cunt creaming around his dick.
You were panting heavily as Jongho sat up, his cock still deep inside you. Yet, he didn’t move. You remained seated on his lap as he gave you a second to recover and blink the stars out of your eyes as he moved his lips to your neck, peppering small kisses along your soft skin. His arms wrapped around you, his fingers pressing lightly into your waist and back, his nails tickling you ever so slightly. You rested your arms on his shoulders and let out euphoric sighs as he kissed you all over, leaving the occasional pink mark on your skin as he worked his way around the blank canvas of your body.
He started leaning into you the more he kissed you until he had you pinned to the bed. He was hovering above you when your back settled into the mattress, his hands laid flat right above your shoulders. The two of you just stared at each other, your mouths slightly open as you breathed in unison. Jongho’s hair was covering his eyes slightly, but you could still see them sparkle as he gazed into your eyes. His soft touch brushed against your temple as he moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before cupping your face and kissing your lips lightly, a small smile appearing on his face.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and brought him closer to you, your lips yearning for him to kiss you more deeply, more passionately; and your waist shifted slightly and impatiently as you waited for him to fuck you. The second he locked lips with you again, his hips gyrated into yours, the light slaps of your waist meeting his filling the room.
Jongho’s pace slowly started speeding up, and the intensity of his thrusts increased exponentially as your cunt started taking the shape of his cock. Your insides started heating up to the point where you thought the friction was going to start a fire within you, and every time his waist rammed into yours with a satisfying slap, you let out a gasp mixed with a moan, your head pushing back further into the mattress.
Your legs wrapped around his waist completely, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. Jongho kept gasping your name softly as his orgasm neared, the melodic sound of your name leaving his lips making your body tingle all over and your toes curl. You hugged him even closer to you so that his chest was against yours and his nose was rubbing against the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Jongho gasped as you clenched around him.
You bit your lower lip and nodded, stars reappearing in your vision. Just seeing you bite your lower lip was enough for him. Jongho snapped his hips into yours with such force that made you cum hard, your walls fluttering as your arousal squirted out. Jongho, meanwhile, also came, his cock twitching as his cum filled the condom.
As you recovered from your high, Jongho pulled out and removed the condom before stroking himself a couple more times, ropes of cum decorating your torso as he finished completely on you, a groan of pleasure and relief rumbling in his chest. Then, wordlessly, he got off the bed and disappeared into his apartment.
You were able to push yourself up by the time Jongho returned with towels and water. He handed you the glass, and you took tiny sips of the water as you watched him wipe you down.
“Tell me something,” he said to you. “Was that as good as your dream?”
Jongho looked up at you as he waited for you to respond. So, you cupped his face and led him towards you to leave a lingering kiss on his lips.
“No, it was better.”
You thought you would be waking up from another dream, but no. This time, when you woke up, you woke up to see your best friend’s sleeping face right in front of yours, his soft features relaxed and beautiful. He looked so peaceful, so pretty while sleeping that it kind of made you jealous that he could look like fucking Sleeping Beauty.
You shifted slightly, immediately making the sleeping man hug you closer to his bare chest, his soft skin making you shiver slightly. And when you felt his gentle exhale flit past your ear before he buried his nose in your hair, every single nerve in your body tingled happily.
As Jongho continued to sleep, you observed him, your eyes landing on the little freckle on his neck. You absentmindedly traced your nail along it lightly, tickling him and subsequently waking him up.
“Mmm, good morning,” he uttered, his low morning voice echoing in your ear.
You’d had many sleepovers with him in the past, and you’d heard his morning voice many, many times in the past, but having him talk right into your ear like that was too sexy, too stimulating for you that early in the morning, your heart and cunt fluttering.
“Good morning, Jongho,” you whispered back.
Hugging you even closer, Jongho let out a happy exhale before leaving the faintest of kisses on your temple, making your heart skip and making you realize that you were falling for him.
“Push my head down into the mattress and fuck me like you hate me.”
he did not do that.
instead, he has your legs pushed to your chest as he thrusts inside your tight cunt — bottom lip caught between his teeth as he stares down at where his cock disappears in you and he can’t hold back the groan that slips out of his mouth.
His fingers tighten around your neck as he looks back up at your fucked out face and smiles. you know, those seductive little smirks that make your stomach flip. he’s strangely proud of the mess he’s made of you — hair messy and tangled, pretty lipstick smudged and mascara dripping down your cheeks as your lashes clump together because of the tears threatening to spill again.
“I told you, babydoll. I’d rather see your face while I’m choking you.”
yunho filled it, mingi swallowed it, you drenched them both
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
✮ yunho x f!reader x mingi
✮ warnings: a lil plot (if u squint), nsfw, smutty, multiple rounds, m/f/m threesome, sex toy play, cum play, cum eating, switch between dom/sub dynamics, spit play (lots of it lmao), oral (m!&f!receiving), face sittin, p in v, creampies, cum stuffing, cockwarming, overstimulation, recording, squirting (bless reader's heart), degradation/praise kink, double penetration, hair pulling, light choking, bf!yunho shows slight jealousy, mingi is a whiny baby (his stuttering is intentional), aftercare(??), i may be missing some
✮ if ur new here, hi!!! this is a spin-off from my pocket pussy drabbles. if you want a teensy bit of info on how these two were characterized, i recommend reading their sections. thank you sm for reading <333
side note: yunho (solo) was tied in the polls with this duo, so i gave him the est. relationship w/ reader!!
You were kind, if not gracious—even when it meant sending your boyfriend a mold of your pussy while being out of town.
It started off as a joke one morning while sitting in your hotel room on the phone with Yunho. He had been longing for you, your body. His hand was not doing the job, the pent-up energy almost being too much to handle.
You still had another two weeks until you could see him again, so you figured you’d take matters into your own hands–and quite literally you did.
That same evening, you went to the local sex shop nearby.
You walked into the store, scavenging every aisle for a molding kit. This needed to be special and uniquely you; in the process, you didn’t know if this was for your own gain or his.
The determination on your face as you read each box left the shop workers in awe or potentially concerned. Despite that you made the purchase of a whopping $90 and didn’t even bother to cover up the bag’s name, “Orgasms Galore,” as you entered the elevator to your hotel room.
You're glad your company booked you a single room for your work trip because you knew you were about to be bust wide open in many different ways.
You took a quick shower to trim and shave, trying to make the molding process as seamless as possible. Afterwards, you got the instruction page and spread eagle on the king mattress.
You mixed everything, double-checking every note, a mirror positioned in front of you to make sure you were getting everything just right.
It had to be just right.
Right for him.
It was mid-evening by the time the cast was set, thankful for its speedy process, you find the nearest mail dropbox addressed to Yunho with an expedited request, a small note accompanied with it: “all yours, whether im present or miles away ;)”
A few days later, Yunho receives a box at his doorstep–he wasn’t expecting anything from you, but he wasn’t complaining about what graced his apartment doorstep.
He was fresh out the shower, hair damp and pushed back. He was wearing one of your oversized shirts that still had the smell of your perfume, hanging lazily off his collarbone.
He examines the box, turning it every which way, even shakes it a little–like he was trying to play the guessing game of what it was.
His examination was disrupted by a text message from you.
you: listen to my voice notes, baby
He immediately tracks his way to his bedroom. It’s nighttime, his lamp softly lighting the room, he was about to go to sleep, but your message left too much mystery for him to ignore.
Yunho finally opens the box with careful hands, his ears turning the same color as a strawberry once he realizes what it was.
yunyun: you’re insane
i’ll be busy the rest of the night, gn, love u <3
He takes out the pocket pussy and tosses the box aside while skimming the note you left him. He then scrolls to his hidden voice notes on his phone–he has a favorite folder of your voice: “quick nut.”
Yunho is always hard for you; the text of you saying “baby” is what started it, but seeing the clone of one of his favorite body parts had his cock leaking.
“Fuckkkkk. Can’t believe she did this.” He was in awe of what you created for him, but also flustered in the best way.
Yunho drops his shorts and sits on the edge of the bed, grabs his headphones from his nightstand so he can hear every moan, groan, and squeal from you explicitly.
His cock was hitting his stomach, begging to be touched in some way. He strokes it with his hands a few times and presses play on his phone, your voice emerging into his ears.
“Hi, baby, hope you’ve been good while I’ve been gone.”
He groans, spitting into his hands as a replacement for lube, and slowly inserts himself into the pocket pussy.
He tilts his head back at the feeling, a replica of the actual pussy he loved so much. The audio continues to play as he speeds up his thrust, the leaking of precum and mix of spit making the most lude noises.
“I miss you, my pussy misses you.”
“I’m almost there, Yun, how about you?”
“Finish with me, yeah?”
Yunho begins to feel the buildup of it all, the emotion and the raw need of wanting you in his arms right now.
His hands gripping the sheets as his toes curl at the feeling.
He eventually disregards the audio and starts whispering to himself, caught up in the lust and love of it all.
“I missed you…I just fucking need you.”
He then closes his eyes, trying to imagine you, your scent, the way you clench around him just the way he likes, the way you leave marks along his back and arms.
With one more hard thrust up into the pocket pussy, he fills it up to the brim. It’s filthy and overwhelming altogether.
“Damn it, I’m sorry, babe–I didn’t even ask to fill you up like this.”
Looking at the wall after finishing, still undressed, he feels something wet hit his thigh–figures it's just a mixture of spit and his cum–but he was actually tearing up.
The desire and guilt of wanting you was so much, he was needy and alone. Never a good combo.
He didn’t bother to clean the pocket pussy, but he did slide it into the top drawer of his nightstand while glancing at it one more time, leaving him even more embarrassed by the time he pulled up his shorts and laid down for bed.
He was on the brink of deep sleep until he got a message from Mingi: “comin over tmr mornin, be up.”
And for once, Mingi actually came at the time he stated, without ever waiting for a response from Yunho.
Mingi was bright and early, knocking on the door of Yunho’s apartment with coffee and donuts in hand. Just trying to catch up with a close friend.
Yunho was slow to the door–hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush his teeth yet, the scent of your shirt still lingering on him, his hair disheveled in all kinds of ways.
“Hey bro—”
“Woah, what the hell happened to you? You look terrible.”
“You’ve been crying? Your face is–”
“Good morning to you, Mingi. I’m doing great.”
“Your breath stinks, man.”
“Get in the damn house and take off your shoes.” Yunho motions to Mingi, and he does as he’s told, going into the kitchen to set the breakfast onto the island.
“Since my breath stinks so bad, I’ll be in the bathroom, I’ll be back.”
Mingi nods with a concerned look, not sure what was going on with Yunho.
Looking for clean dishes as his friend leaves the kitchen, Mingi accidentally bumps the coffee he brought on the counter, creating a small mess.
“Shit.”
He begins to look for napkins, but none were on the counter, under the sink, or even in the pantry.
He huffs and whispers to himself, almost defeated over a small spill. “This dude never goes shopping.”
Mingi is so familiar with Yunho’s apartment, he knows he leaves smaller takeout napkins in his drawers, so that becomes his next stop.
But he is astonished when he goes to open the bedroom door as he talks to himself.
“Why does it smell like sex in here?”
“Wait, but she’s not back yet…is he cheating?”
“No, he would never.” Mingi brushes off his thoughts and just continues to the nightstand and reveals the smell that hit him.
The pocket pussy that Yunho didn’t clean in all of its glory in his top drawer, Mingi goes to pick it up with his heart almost pounding out of his chest.
He holds it like a baby, like it’s something special, admiring the attention to detail until Yunho’s voice echoes throughout the room.
“Put. It. Down. Now.”
He puts it down.
Mingi doesn’t know if he should be jealous or intrigued; he’s always had a soft spot for you, but going after his best friend’s girl would just be morally wrong in his eyes.
Mingi hesitantly turns to face Yunho in the doorframe, not looking as disheveled as he did before. A smirk gracing his face.
“Fucking a pussy that’s not yours, huh?”
“It is actually. It’s molded specifically from her.”
Mingi’s smirk falters a bit, realizes the love and care you have for Yunho, not knowing if he’ll ever experience you in that capacity.
But he doesn’t miss the opportunity to inquire about the item sitting in the drawer.
“So this is the accurate replica?”
Yunho’s eyes widen a bit, was mindful of your relationship with Mingi–close friends, nothing more. The lust seemed one-sided, but was it reallyyy?
“Why do ya wanna know?”
“Just… educating myself.”
“Educating yourself on my girl’s vagina? Right…seems logical.”
Mingi just shrugs, taking a quick glance at the pocket pussy again, looks harder–sees the dried white liquid coating the outside lips and involuntarily shivers at the sight.
“Didn’t seem to clean it, must’ve been that good. Must be nice, but I would’ve cleaned this up and the real one— ”
Instead of getting angry, Yunho gets shy.
The mess he left shows his obsession with you, something that was supposed to be kept secret, was now on full display.
In front of his best friend, nonetheless.
“I–I, it was good. She’s that good. I miss her.”
“I miss her too. Been thinking bout’ her non-stop. Her laugh is everything—”
The room goes dead silent at the revelation of how much fondness Mingi holds for you, and the tension in the air gets heavy and thick.
Their eyes locked onto one another, not paying attention to the jingle of keys outside the door.
The padding of shoes on the hardwood.
The spilled coffee dripping and getting sticky on the counter.
And the text you sent Yunho earlier.
you: manager is sick, rest of trip cancelled, will be home soon <3!
You noticed as you stepped through the door that there were donuts on the island, bathroom light was on, and there was coffee for two–thinking that he wanted to surprise you for your arrival back, how wrong you were.
After not seeing Yunho in any of the other rooms, you went down the longer hallway, and you see Yunho’s tall frame standing in the doorway.
One hand on his hip, another hanging on the door frame–his knuckles clenched, almost white. He’s tense; his shoulders not relaxed, and you have no plausible idea why.
Yunho takes up the whole door, so you can’t see who or what is in the bedroom.
You place a hand on the small of his back as you walk up he instantly relaxes under your touch. You smile a bit and take note of your perfume being on him.
Yunho froze for a fraction of a second, his chest tightened as your eyes looked past him, a flush crept across his cheeks, his Adam's apple bobbing.
When he turns to fully face you, you catch a glimpse of the figure inside the room.
Mingi.
But Yunho’s hand twitched at his hip first, shifting on one foot to the other, kind of avoiding your eyes.
“I’m guessing no one read my text, huh?”
Yunho blushes–smiles and engulfs you in a hug and kisses your forehead.
While Mingi stays back a bit but with a small smile, not sure where he stands at this point.
“Text? What text? Why are you back so early?”
“If you would actually read my messages, that wouldn’t be a question.”
Mingi speaks up, “Who cares? We’ve missed you.”
You break away from Yunho to look at Mingi, his long dark hair partly covering his eyes, his expression mixed and a bit unreadable, which is a first for you to see.
“I’ve missed you guys, too. So much. What were you two doing in here anyway?”
That’s when you hear the creaky nightstand being closed as Mingi pushes back against it, everything that equaled suspicious.
“We were just talking, babe.”
“Oh, so you’re lying to me now?”
“How do you know–”
“Neither one of you has made direct eye contact with me since I walked in here. What’s in the drawer?”
“Noth–”
“Fuck, what the hell, it’s the pocket pussy you sent me. Mingi walked in and I-I…we just missed you.”
“So you two were having fun without me?” You said jokingly, a smirk on your face.
But you notice that maybe Mingi didn’t take it that way.
That’s when Mingi’s eyes light up, the tiniest inkling that you just may see him in that way, that maybe you would give him a chance to experience everything Yunho has had.
“You would let me… ‘have fun’…with you?” Mingi’s voice is unsure, his face heating up at the thought.
Mingi was always attractive in your eyes, tall, built, sweet–everything a woman would want. A man who’ve you been close to all this time, but never took it to second base.
Yunho’s hands go to your waist and squeeze, his jaw tight at the question, waiting for your response.
He put your wants and feelings first all the time, and he couldn’t deny the thought aroused him, but also couldn’t deny the possessive wave that rushed through him.
You rub your hands along his, soothing him, a small it’s okay. Can feel all the emotion and tension that’s in the air surrounding the three of you.
You then look up at Yunho, eyes trying to search for the light in his. He gives you a nod, his eyes darting toward Mingi.
“Show me.”
“Show me what you two were doing before I got here.”
Your tone was sharper, no longer in joking around—not that you really were in the first place.
You can hear Yunho gulp beside you, getting fidgety. Mingi eyes the drawer he’s still standing next to and opens it again.
“I wasn’t doing anything, but I can’t say the same for him.” Mingi motions towards Yunho, who has since let go of your waist and makes strides toward the drawer.
“We really were just talking, but since you insist, want to see how I fucked this copy of your cunt last night? Hm?”
You go silent, lips parted but no words forming, the heat rushing to your cheeks.
Yunho watches your expression shift, his chest rising fast, while Mingi’s hands flex like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
Mingi blinks. “You’re serious?”
Yunho swallows, but instead of stopping it, he reaches into the creaky drawer.
His long fingers curl around the toy, lifting it like evidence.
“Last night… I couldn’t stop,” he admits. He glances at Mingi, then back to you.
“I thought about you. About you choking me while I fucked it. I filled it up until it leaked all over my hand.”
You bite your lip, the confession making your thighs clench. Yunho never talks like this unless he’s too far gone, and Mingi looks like his knees are about to give out.
“Well then, once again, show me how bad you really missed me.”
Yunho places the toy back on the nightstand and looks at you helplessly, like he still can’t believe you’d ask him to reenact it.
Mingi, though, is burning. His chest is heaving, his gaze darting between you and Yunho like he’s asking for permission.
“Mingi,” finally looking directly at him. His breath stutters.
“Yeah?”
“You wanted to know if it was accurate, right?” you say, fully stepping into the room.
You press yourself against Yunho’s side, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist.
“Why don’t you find out?”
The words hang there, almost dangerous. Yunho stiffens, then groans quietly into your hair. He’s too far gone to deny you, too turned on to stop it.
Mingi’s lips part, eyes glassy, and for the first time, he looks at Yunho.
“If I touch her, you won’t hate me?”
Yunho clenches his jaw, dragging his gaze down your body. His thumb rubs your hip bone in nervous circles.
“If she wants it.” He looks at you, desperate for your answer. “…then I don’t get to hate you.”
That’s all Mingi needed to hear.
He steps forward, trembling with restraint, and the way he looks at you, like you’re something divine, makes your pulse race.
You reach out and tug his wrist, placing his big palm low on your waist, right next to where Yunho is already gripping. Their hands nearly touch. Both men stare at each other, then at you.
“Fuck,” Yunho whispers, burying his face in your neck.
Mingi’s thumb brushes your skin like he’s not worthy.
“Show me how much you’ve both missed me. Right fucking now.”
Yunho groans, the sound raw in his throat. Mingi swears under his breath, lips parted like he’s seconds away from begging.
“Take off your shirt,” you tell Mingi. His chest shudders. He peels it off fast, and it makes your pussy throb when you realize he’s wearing one of yours underneath, another oversized tee you left at his place months ago.
“You kept that?” you ask.
Mingi nods, cheeks red. “Smells like you.”
Yunho’s jaw tightens, but his cock twitches through his sweats. You feel it press your hip as he mumbles,
“I fuckin’ get it.”
You grab the toy from the nightstand and hold it up between them.
“Show me how you fucked this, Yunho.”
He freezes, ears pink, but his eyes are filled with need.
Slowly, he takes it from your hand, sits on the edge of the bed, and pushes his sweats down. His cock springs free, flushed and leaking
“God, baby, look at me,” he whispers, lining himself up. And then he pushes into the toy with a whimper. His head falls back, and the filthy wet sounds fill the room as he thrusts.
You crawl onto the bed, straddling his thigh. Your eyes flick up to Mingi. “Film him.”
“What?”
“Use my phone. I want more voice notes, wanna hear him moaning for me when I’m gone.”
Mingi scrambles for the phone, fumbling with the camera, hands shaking so bad it makes the footage blur. But then he steadies it, filming Yunho’s flushed face, the slick movement of the toy swallowing him down.
“Say something, baby,” you purr, running your nails down Yunho’s chest.
He whines, so red his ears burn. “I’m filling you up, fuck—I need you so bad.”
The moment cracks something in Mingi.
You turn to him. “Take your pants off. Sit on the other side of me.”
He obeys instantly, cock springing up, precum leaking down his shaft.
You spit into your palm, the sound loud in the room, and Mingi’s eyes go wide when you use it to slick him up. You stroke him slow, your thumb smearing precum over his slit.
“Spit in my mouth,” you order.
Mingi gasps but doesn’t hesitate. He leans down, drool pooling on his tongue before he lets it drip right onto yours. You moan into it, the sound making Yunho’s thrusts stutter.
“Damnnnnit,” Yunho groans, pounding harder into the toy now.
You break the kiss with Mingi and spit right onto the head of his cock, stroking him harder, watching his thighs shake.
“Want to cum already?” you tease.
“I—I’m trying, fuck, I can’t,” Mingi’s voice cracks, his head dropping onto your shoulder. He looks ruined just from your hand.
“Hold it,” you snap.
Yunho suddenly pulls the toy off, stroking his slick cock in his fist. He looks at Mingi with dark, blown-out eyes.
“Eat it.”
Mingi freezes. “Excuse me?”
“Eat what’s inside.” Yunho’s voice is shaky, but firm. He tips the toy up, and cum drips from the molded lips.
Mingi’s eyes roll when you tilt his chin and push the toy to his mouth.
“Open.”
He parts his lips, shaky, and you tip Yunho’s cum into his mouth. He moans as it hits his tongue, tears springing to his eyes, and he swallows hard. “Fuck—”
Yunho looks like he’s going to cum again just from watching.
You then unstraddle Yunho and push Mingi down on the bed, straddle his face, and tug Yunho’s wrist so he’s hovering behind you.
“You get to compare the real thing now,” you taunt, grinding down onto Mingi’s mouth.
“Find out which is your favorite.”
Mingi’s tongue is everywhere—messy, desperate, like he’s been waiting years. You gasp when he spits on your pussy, then sucks your clit like he’s starved.
Yunho groans behind you, his hands gripping your waist as he watches.
“Fuck, she’s squirting.” Yunho chokes when Mingi shoves two fingers inside you, and you gush all over his face. Mingi moans into your cunt like he’s drowning, swallowing everything.
“Good boy,” you pant, tugging his hair. “Don’t waste a drop.”
Yunho can’t take it anymore. He lines up behind you, pushes in slow, and you both moan at once.
“You’re so warm, babe,” Yunho gasps, already gripping your hips like he’ll lose it.
“Fill her up while I taste it,” Mingi begs from under you, voice muffled against your pussy.
Yunho pounds into you, loud and sloppy, groaning your name. You cum hard again, squirting all over Mingi’s face and chest as Yunho empties inside you with a cry.
When Yunho pulls out, you slide off Mingi’s mouth and down onto his cock. He’s already shaking, tears streaking his face, and when he sinks inside you, he sobs.
“You feel so good, I’m seriously so close.”
“Cum inside.”
He wails and does, thick, hot, endless, his hips jerking, tears spilling down his cheeks as he fills you.
Yunho leans over, panting, and smears the mess leaking out of you onto his fingers before pushing it into Mingi’s mouth.
“Taste,” he orders.
Mingi moans around Yunho’s fingers, swallowing everything like it’s his life calling.
The three of you are still tangled, bodies sweaty and twitching. Mingi is still inside you, cock softening but refusing to leave, clinging like he can’t bear to let go.
Yunho lies behind you, peppering desperate kisses down your neck, his fingers lazily stroking the mess leaking out of you.
Your phone is still recording the whole thing on the nightstand, red dot blinking. A new “voice note,” only this time it’s both of them.
“You’re dripping,” Yunho murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Cum’s just spilling out of you, baby. So messy.”
Mingi whimpers at his words, hips jerking shallowly inside you.
“Don’t… don’t let it fall out. Please.”
You laugh softly, tilting your head back against Yunho’s shoulder.
“Look at him, Yun, my pussy’s squeezing him, and you’re pressed up right behind me, all hard. Cock pressed to my ass, needy. You’re warming each other up perfectly, baby.”
“Not fair,” Yunho mutters, pouting. His palm presses into your stomach. “I wanna keep her warm, too.”
Mingi lifts his head, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, voice shaky. “We can share, right?”
Yunho’s eyes darken, but when you squeeze his thigh, he gives you a tiny nod. His voice comes out low.
“Fine. But I’m not just letting her go.”
You grin, stroking both their arms. “Good boys. Then let’s play again.”
You roll your hips deliberately, and Mingi shouts, his cock twitching inside you like he’s never been used before.
“Sensitive?” you tease.
“I can’t, I can’t—” He’s trembling, already halfway to tears again.
Yunho smirks into your neck. “Pathetic. You cum once and you’re already begging off?”
Mingi’s head shakes violently. “N-no, I can keep going, I’ll take it, fuck, I’ll take it all.”
You reach for Yunho’s drawer again and pull out a sleek vibrator you’d left there prior, pressing it into Mingi’s unsteady hand.
“Put this on my clit while you’re inside me. Don’t stop, no matter how much I beg.”
Mingi stares at you like you’ve sentenced him to death, but flicks it on anyway.
The low buzz makes your whole body jolt, and Yunho’s laugh is breathless against you.
“Oh, she’s gonna squirt again,” he whispers, eyes fixed between your thighs.
“I can feel her clenching already.”
“Don’t stop,” you moan, grabbing Mingi’s wrist to pin the vibrator harder against you. “Do it until I soak both of you.”
“Good god, god, god—” Mingi’s babbling now, chest heaving, cock jerking inside you with every squeeze of your walls.
Yunho growls in your ear. “You hear that? She’s gonna make a mess all over you. My girl’s cunt is using you, Mingi.”
That sends you over, your body convulses, gushing so hard it sprays Yunho’s torso and Mingi’s stomach as you stay sandwiched between them.
Mingi leans up a bit and screams into your shoulder, rutting helplessly.
“Holy fuck, she’s flooding me,” he sobs.
Yunho’s hand shoots out, gripping Mingi’s throat. Not choking, but firm enough to make him freeze.
“Don’t you dare cum until she tells you to.”
Mingi whines, nodding frantically, precum spilling down his shaft even as he holds back.
You tilt your head, panting, smirking through your aftershocks.
“Good job. Now I need both of you to spit in my mouth, kay?”
Yunho groans, leaning over your shoulder, letting a thick string of spit fall onto your tongue.
Mingi follows clumsily, drool dripping down his chin as he misses the first time, then hits your tongue.
You swallow, moaning loud. “Fuck. My boys taste so good.”
Yunho’s eyes roll back, his cock twitching again. “Say it again.”
“My boys.” You drag your nails down both their arms. “Mine.”
Yunho grabs your phone off the nightstand again and shoves it at Mingi.
“Now it’s her turn. Do it.”
Mingi hits record, slowly becoming your personal cameraman throughout this.
He pointed it at your soaked pussy stretched around his cock, vibrator still buzzing against you.
“Tell her what you want,” Yunho demands, voice rough.
Mingi’s voice cracks. “I want my seed in her, please. I wanna cum inside until she can’t hold anymore, I’ll eat it if it spills, I swear.”
“Fuck—do it,” you moan, arching back into Yunho. “Fill me up again.”
Mingi’s cry is wrecked, body jittery as he finally lets go. He spills inside you hard, sobbing, tears streaking down his flushed cheeks.
Yunho immediately slides his fingers down, scooping the overflow and shoving it into Mingi’s mouth again.
“Swallow your mess,” Yunho snarls.
Mingi whimpers around Yunho’s fingers.
But Yunho isn’t done. He shoves two of his cum-slicked fingers inside you, pumping them fast.
“Gotta give me one more squirt, baby. One more for the camera.”
You scream, body jerking as you gush again, soaking both of them, the sheets, the phone lens.
The video ends with Yunho’s voice—rough and possessive.
“That’s mine. All fucking mine.”
Yunho doesn’t give you a second to breathe once he’s had his fill of watching Mingi whine while in your pussy.
He’s dragging you onto all fours, hand gripping the back of your neck like a leash.
“Up, baby. Knees apart. Show him who fucks you for real.”
Mingi’s already flushed, cock leaking against his stomach, but Yunho just jerks his chin at him.
“Get in front of her. You wanna be useful? Stuff her throat while I stuff her cunt.”
The second Mingi shuffles forward, cock hovering by your lips, Yunho sinks into you from behind, one brutal thrust that makes your arms buckle.
You cry out around Mingi’s cock when he slides into your mouth, Yunho’s hips smacking your ass in a punishing force.
They don’t let you rest. Mingi’s hands are trembling as he holds your face, his cock nudging deep enough you choke. Yunho watches the way your throat bulges, groaning.
“Look at that,” Yunho hisses, yanking your hair a bit so you arch.
“You’re nothing but holes for us, sweetheart. Pussy gushing all over me, throat gagging around him. She was made for this.”
Mingi almost folds. “She—she’s soooo tight, I can feel her throat.”
Yunho slaps your ass, hard. “Shut up and use it. Don’t waste my girl’s mouth.”
Your drool’s everywhere, soaking Mingi’s cock, dripping down your chin.
Yunho spits into the mess, smearing it over your cheek with his thumb before shoving it back into your mouth alongside Mingi’s length. Your eyes roll, gagging as your throat takes them both.
Yunho’s pace gets nastier. Deep, hard pumps that shove you into Mingi’s cock until you’re choking every stroke. The wet slap, gag, and squelching fill the room.
“Gonna make you squirt again, all over my dick while your mouth’s full of his cock,”
“Let’s see if you can come like that.”
You shudder, thighs shaking as your cunt gushes down his cock. Yunho groans, pulling out halfway just to watch the spray hit his abs before slamming back in.
Mingi’s already breaking, “Shit, she’s drooling all over me, she’s so good. Yunho, I'm so close.”
“Not until she swallows. You hear me? You don’t come on her face, you come down her throat,” Yunho demands.
Mingi whines hips stuttering as his cock pulses against your tongue. The hot flood of him hits your throat, and Yunho makes sure you choke it all down, holding you in place.
“Swallow. Every drop. Good fucking girl.”
But Yunho’s still going, his hips snap faster, thrusts that drag your squirt-slick walls raw until he groans, spilling deep inside you.
Then he pulls out just enough to push his cum out of your pussy with his fingers, letting it drip down your thighs while Mingi stares wide-eyed.
Yunho smirks, still holding you by the hair.
“Look close, Mingi. That’s what she looks like when she’s fucked right.”
You’re wrecked, throat raw, and cunt dripping cum, when Yunho finally pulls you back into his chest.
He lays down, tugging you with him until you’re spooned against his body, cock still hard and nudging at your swollen folds.
“Hush hush. Don’t cry, baby,” he coos, kissing the salt off your temple.
“I’ll take care of you. Just one more.”
Mingi’s still kneeling there, face a mess, cock twitching even though he’s already come. Yunho smirks at him and pats your thigh.
Then he slides in from behind, slow this time, grinding in inch by inch until you’re full and whining.
His arm wraps tight around your waist, pulling you flush to him. Each thrust is deep and dragging, making your overstimulated cunt flutter helplessly around him.
Mingi crawls closer without even thinking, pressing against your front. His lips find yours in sloppy, desperate kisses, his whines muffled as Yunho rocks you both with every thrust.
You’re caught in between them, Yunho fucking you slow from behind, Mingi clutching you like he’ll break if he lets go.
“So good like this,” Yunho murmurs into your ear, voice a deep rumble. “Full of me, kissing him, dripping everywhere. Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”
Your body gives up control, you gush again, just becoming a wet mess with both of them.
Soaking his cock as he grinds the orgasm out of you. Mingi gasps against your lips, needy noises spilling when he feels you wet his chest.
Yunho's hips finally still as he spills inside you again, heat pooling deep in your belly. He holds you there through it, not pulling out, whispering filth-soft praises in your ear.
“That’s it. Take it all. My girl. Always mine first.”
Mingi just clings, kissing your face over and over like he’s worshipping what’s left of you.
All three of you are a sweaty, sticky mess, tangled together across the bed. Your hair plastered to your face, your pussy and both their cocks glistening with cum, spit, and sweat.
Yunho presses a soft, kiss to your shoulder, hand cupping your hip, thumb tracing lazy, reassuring circles. His chest rises and falls beneath yours, steadying you, grounding you.
Mingi leans in from the other side, brushing damp hair from your face, pressing a trembling kiss to your neck. His hands linger along your thighs, gentle but hungry, careful not to hurt you but refusing to let go.
You gasp, shivering, toes curling over the sheets. “Both of you. Still here,” you whisper.
Yunho murmurs against your ear, low and rough, “Mine, all mine.”
Mingi speaks softly, “Yours, every inch.”
Your fingers weave into their hair, holding them close. You feel their need, their devotion, their awe at how much they ruined you tonight.
Despite the chaos, the mess, and the overwhelming sensations, you feel completely adored.
The room is silent except for your heavy breathing and the occasional whimper or soft moan as your body twitches in the aftermath.
You tilt your head back, letting both of them steal a soft, lingering kiss. It’s fleeting, but it’s theirs, an unspoken agreement that no matter how messy you are, they’re right there with you.
𝜗ৎ playback pussy's sequel, she's finally here. i swore may was going to be the month i took a small break, but i couldn't leave this doc alone (back into hibernation i go, for now). this can be read standalone, but for more context on their dynamics i rec reading pp too <33
Putting in your earrings has never presented more of a struggle until now.
You’re chipping the side of your nails, your ears are irritated, the stack doesn’t look good, and you can’t find your favorite hoops. In short, you’re a disaster, a silent one.
Because pissed is not the word, you're sure the word you’re looking for doesn’t exist.
You continue to put on your jewelry, give up on perfecting your earring stack–focus on your bracelet bangles instead. The led bathroom light at hotels always hides blemishes well, but you know the real look will be shown in the car mirror.
You look damn good regardless, and you’re about to make him sick to his stomach. You’re one to sweep things under the rug, but your blood is boiling, it matches the deep maroon of your dress. Your collarbones on display, a slit so high you think about pinning the threads together.
You go to clasp the necklace around your neck, you almost drop it after you’re hit with the most annoying memory.
The memory of walking in on Mingi getting his makeup done before a shoot, the artist engrossed in conversation with him, hands lingering too long on his jaw, his smile showing all thirty-two, her tripping over him, and her hands landing on his thighs.
The moment when Mingi glances up to see you holding his favorite soup and vitamin water, your ritual, your routine. He doesn’t acknowledge what just happened, doesn’t think it was a big deal. But you’re a girl, and you’re a girl with a very hot, very tall, very talented, lusted-after boyfriend.
This was definitely a big deal.
Mingi came home later that night, continued with the dismissal of it all. His words, “it’s just work, baby. No issues.”
You nod, turn back over in bed, you gave him no more words. He assumed all was well, that no response was a great response in his book. You fell asleep scheming as he joined you and engulfed you in his arms that night.
You try to push the memory to the back of your mind as you look at yourself again in the mirror, you’re genuinely satisfied with how you look. Is it a little skimpy for a company event? Possibly, maybe…but that’s not the point. The point is to see Mingi rage.
You arrive at the venue alone, you were gifted separate rooms for the event. While you love him, you’re grateful for the time spent apart. It’s very upscale, it’s the annual awards event, everyone is here. Flowy table cloths, organized cutlery, dimmed chandelier lights exude class in the air.
You’re already thinking about getting fast food afterwards because you know the finger food about to be served will not be filling in the slightest.
Tables are assigned, but artist partners are seated at the same table. You immediately glance over the makeup artist's table. Gross, and scan for the boy with blonde hair with light pink tips.
You find Mingi talking in a corner, a glass in his hand. Not sure who he’s conversing with, but he looks good. Hair has grown out longer, his suit fits him in all the right places, you’re salivating even when you’re supposed to be angry.
He still hasn’t looked your way as you still stand near the entrance until a hand graces your back, rings sending a shiver up your spine. The soft voice didn’t fall on deaf ears.
“Standing here like a deer in headlights, huh?” You could feel the smile in Hongjoong’s voice without turning around to even look at him.
“That obvious am I?”
“Very, come sit over here. Mingi is at the same table as me.” Hongjoong keeps his hand on the small of your back as he guides you to the table, pulls out your chair for you, and sits right next to you. His scent is intoxicating, always has been lately.
Chatter is loud around you, both sitting in silence as you make eye contact with Mingi, still standing in the corner. You look away immediately, you don’t smile, don’t flutter your lashes. Just a blank face is all he gets in your book.
You know it’s eating him up inside by the way his body glitches between leaving his current conversation or approaching your table. But the formality has to remain due to the fact that there are eyes everywhere, the media is everywhere, and your body language is not very inviting.
Time goes on for a little while in silence at the table, until Hongjoong turns towards you. You can tell he’s just as bored, just as unoccupied.
“I have a needle and thread in my jacket pocket if you need it.”
You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused. Give him a huh sound for him to elaborate a little further.
“That slit. Too high.” You laugh, genuinely. You know it’s high, but you know you’re not receiving an award, so there shouldn’t be as many eyes on you compared to the other people that are here.
“Bothering you?”
Hongjoong smirks, “a little.”
You lean in, “Tragic, hope you can find a remedy. Your needle and thread are not needed, dork.” Hongjoong laughs, leans back, and keeps his eyes on you. You match his intensity, the conversation flows, your laughs are free, the focus is all on him.
“You ever crave something so bad, like dessert or a fruit? Like I’d love some cherries right now.” Hongjoong asks the question, seriously, it’s not rhetorical. He asks while also trying to find the answer for himself.
You lean in, chuckle a bit, because cherries feel like such a random thing to crave right now. “I do, I crave lots of things. But I normally don’t wallow in the want of it. Pretty sure you could get some cherries somewhere around here.”
Hongjoong smiles and nods in agreement. “You’re right, you look like one. Looks like I found it–you look good tonight if someone hasn’t let you know already.”
Your pulse fastens, he’s smooth with his words. The only thing you can do is smile, because you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way he spoke.
Mingi still hasn’t come over to greet you or even sit down, he is constantly glancing over his shoulder to see you fawning over his bandmate. Memories of the three of you before flooding his mind aren't helping as he clutches his glass.
Hongjoong isn’t dumb, you never thought he was. He’s very quick to catch on to things, knows there’s something brewing underneath, but he’s not going to say a word because you’re beautiful and you’re paying attention to just him.
You’re both in the middle of laughing about when Jongho made Mingi chase their car when Hongjoong’s hand lands on your thigh. His hand lingers, seems not to care about any wandering eyes. You don’t pull away, you shift a little in your seat, his hand brushing your skin, the slit of your dress rising even more.
His hands are warm, dainty with rings adorning them. His fingers spread with a firm grip, if he holds on any longer, he may leave an imprint. You look down at his hand, tracing around his hand with your fingers. Your thighs subtly press together, Hongjoong takes note of it, the eye contact between you two lasts for about thirty seconds.
Thirty seconds of such charged energy, what you’ve created.
Mingi’s daily glance at you catches it, the way Hongjoong is leaning over, but his eyes, looking up at you, see the placement of hands. His jaw tightens, and he sets his drink down by a nearby podium. His body is completely tense, no longer relaxed, brushing it all off is not going to suffice much longer. You can feel it across the room, but you still don’t focus on Mingi, you hone all of your attention to Hongjoong.
At this point, Hongjoong is painfully aware of the energy bouncing off you two.
Mingi tries to catch your attention anytime he can, shifts in your peripheral vision constantly, talks a little louder than normal. You pay him no mind. You keep turning towards Hongjoong, you’ve scooted your chair so much it’s touching his.
“So any new gossip, any new love interest? I saw that rumor about you being with—”
Hongjoong stops you, fingers pressing into your leg as he talks. “Nope, just rumors…Not really interested.” He’s testing you, your reaction, seeing if what he’s doing is okay, also knows you asked him a loaded question.
From onlookers, it looks like two friends chatting it up. But between the three of you, you know it’s quite the opposite.
Your heart is racing, his touch bringing memories you haven’t acknowledged in a while. You’re suffocating, not in a bad way, but in a way of not knowing what to do. You stand from the table, smooth out your dress, huff out a bit of air. “Bathroom real quick, be right back.”
Hongjoong nods. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, goes back to looking at his phone as you move through the standing crowds to find the bathroom.
You check yourself in the bathroom mirror, despite your blood rushing, you still look good. You have no clue when the actual announcing of the awards is going to start, and killing the time with Hongjoong has put you in a very, very tough predicament.
You’re in the bathroom longer than anticipated, Hongjoong stands up from his table to go find you, making sure no one has cornered you or to make sure you haven’t fallen into the toilet. The latter wouldn’t surprise him.
He’s nosy by nature, but so curious when it comes to you. He wants to know what’s really going on with you.
As you push the door open, you’re met with Hongjoong’s face, his hand up, looking like he was about to knock. You step back a bit as he caught you off guard, and the fact that it’s the women’s restroom. “You okay in here?”
You think for a second, you’re in private, and you can tell he’s offering an out that you’re not about to take. The tension is too much for you. “No–no. Not at fucking all.”
Hongjoong motions for you to step further into the bathroom some more, he steps fully in, closing the door behind him. He steps closer to you, concern in his eyes. “What’s going on? You’ve been in here for a bit.”
“Actually, nothing, nothing. I’m good. We should get back out there.” You’re lying, he knows it. Neither of you moves toward the door.
“No, we’re not doing this. What is it really? Mingi? Me?” Hongjoong’s voice has gone even softer, it cradles you in a way that makes you want to spill your guts to him. But your expression is what gives it all away, that all of this is about someone else and not him.
“Is this—” He starts, then stops. Moves closer to you. “Does he know?” You shake your head, shoulders kind of slouch over. Hongjoong pushes your shoulders back up, fixes your posture as his thumbs come up to brush over your cheeks.
You don’t push back, you lean into him, and your body language is all telling. Hongjoong feels it, he lets his hand linger, his eyes pouring into yours, red creeping up his neck and over his shirt collar.
“You said you’d wanted cherries, right? Would you eat one without permission even though the lips it’s meant for are standing out there?”
Hongjoong’s hand comes up to caress your collarbones, then moves up to gently squeeze your neck. He’s breathing hard, nose is flared as he bites his lip. His restraint is slipping away, but it’s completely gone when you go to smash your lips onto his.
Your tongues are tied when the swinging of the bathroom door is heard. Hongjoong didn’t lock it. The only thing locked is your eyes with Mingi’s.
Hongjoong’s back is to Mingi, but he can feel the looming presence behind him when he feels you pull back a bit. Knows it’s Mingi behind him, but he’s not profusely apologizing to you, he’s frozen, doesn’t move.
Mingi’s eyes immediately go dark. He doesn’t say anything, everyone is standing in silence. All you can feel is his fury, the possessiveness as he clenches his hands. The way he’s looking at the back of Hongjoong is nothing short of scary, his eyes don’t leave him.
Hongjoong slowly turns around, steps back a little to look at Mingi. He knows the line he’s crossing, Mingi had given permission before–not this time, and that’s where he fucked up. You have not moved a limb, part of you feels guilty, and the other part is turned on.
Mingi’s eyes do not leave either of yours as he reaches back to lock the restroom door, effectively trapping all of you together.
“Having fun, dear?” He looks directly at you, fingers motion for you to come. You don’t move, which makes him laugh a bit, he’s entertained and pissed at the same time. He then begins to walk past Hongjoong to get to you.
Mingi's hands wrap around your throat before you can even breathe. He’s mad, but the bulge in his pants also lets you know he’s fucking horny. His thumb presses harder against the evident vein in your neck, feeling your fast pulse.
“You think I didn’t see that shit?” His voice goes lower, “every single fucking second of it.”
Hongjoong hasn’t moved, he chooses to wait and watch because he knows this dance, knows better than to speak first.
Mingi’s other hand slides down your side, his fingers catch on the slit of the dress, dragging it higher up your thigh. “This isn’t how it went down last time, baby.” Your breath hitches, the memory of being in this position before, but this time, there’s no kind of negotiation.
There’s no couch or soft blankets, a track on loop with your voice on it. Right now, it’s just cold tile, locked doors, and the threat of industry sitting outside the door. “Mingi–”
He cuts you off with his lips, his tongue enters without full permission, teeth catch your bottom lip enough to make you bleed. When he pulls back, your gloss is smeared all over his mouth.
“Don’t.” Mingi turns his head slightly, glancing back to Hongjoong, finally acknowledging his presence. “You. Come here.”
Hongjoong doesn’t move with hesitancy, he steps so close to you that you can feel the pure lust radiating off of him. His hands find your waist like he knows what sets you off, what gets you going, and the reality of it, he actually does.
Mingi sees it, how you move like familiars. The way Hongjoong’s fingers press into your hip, that spot that makes you a little whiny, and arch into the touch.
“You remember how she sounds.” Mingi’s voice is rough, you can tell he’s on edge.
Hongjoong gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yeah. I do.”
“Lovely.” Mingi’s hand slides from your throat down to your chest, palming your breast through the fabric. “Then you know what happens when she gets what she wants.”
You’re closer to the wall now, you head falls back against it as both of them close in on you. Mingi’s mouth is all over your neck, biting down hard. You won’t be able to go back into the award ceremony, he knows this. All the while, Hongjoong’s hand slips under the slit of your dress, trailing up.
“Guys–” You gasp, and Mingi lets out a laugh.
Mingi shuts you up, yanking down the top part of your dress, exposing your breasts, your necklace swaying back and forth between them.
“Fuck,” Hongjoong breathes out, eyes locked on your chest. His hand doesn’t falter, he cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardens under his touch, the coldness of the restroom adding to it all.
Mingi’s eyes zone in on Hongjoong’s movements, “You’re not shy anymore.”
“Mmm. Should I be?” Hongjoong’s voice stays steady as his other hand moves under your dress to graze the edge of your panties. You gasp, hips jerking. Mingi catches your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Eyes on me.”
Hongjoong doesn’t care, his fingers slip inside your panties, finding you already wet, and your eyes flutter shut immediately. “She’s leaking,” he murmurs. He drags two fingers through your folds, “just like last time.”
Mingi’s grip on your jaw tightens, “Don’t fucking compare.”
“How come?” Hongjoong’s fingers circle your clit, and you whimper. “Her body acts the same way, gets this wet when she’s between us.”
“Hongjoong.” Mingi puts his mouth back onto yours before you can even finish your sentence. His kiss is brutal while Hongjoong continues to scissor you with his fingers. You look like a mess, shaking already, and overwhelmed by the sensations.
Mingi pulls back, breathing hard. “You think you can make her cum before I do?”
Hongjoong’s eyes flash, then a quick smirk on his lips. “I swear I’ve already done that once before.”
Mingi goes still, his hand sliding down to grip your hip harder. “When?”
“Few weeks ago, actually.” Hongjoong’s fingers push inside you even more, and you cry out. “Came on my tongue while you were in that merch meeting or whatever.”
You’re blue in the face from the lack of air that just left your body, you’re shocked, but also laughing on the inside. Knows lying to Mingi makes him go harder, and that’s exactly what you want–what you need.
“Fuck you, fuck this.” Mingi yanks your dress up higher, exposing your legs completely. “She tell you that, or you just running your mouth?”
“She didn’t have to.” Hongjoong continues with his lie as he curls his fingers, hitting your spot. “I could taste how much she needed it.”
Mingi’s hand joins Hongjoong’s between your legs, both hands stretching you wider as fingers glide. You sob, you’re losing the muscle to stand up. “Mingi—fuck, I can’t.”
“Oh no no. Yes, the fuck you can.” His voice is harsh in your ear, “You wanted his attention so bad tonight. Guess what, sweetie—now you got both of us.”
Hongjoong’s thumb finds your clit while Mingi’s fingers pump inside you, they’re working together instead of against one another. Your thighs tremble, gasping as you struggle for air. “She’s close,” Hongjoong says as he watches your face with great intent. “Look at her.”
That only makes Mingi mad all over again. “You don’t get to make her cum I can tell you that much.”
“Then stop me.”
Mingi’s hand moves away and spins you around, making Hongjoong remove his hand. Mingi presses your chest against the wall, your dress bunches around your waist, ass on display for the both of them.
Mingi unbuckles his belt, the sound of the zipper being the loudest thing in the room. Hongjoong moves to your side, his hand sliding up your spine. “You good?”
You nod, and he leans in to kiss you while Mingi gets behind you. His cock presses against you, thick and hard as ever, and he pushes in without giving you any warning. You pull away from the kiss to scream his name when Mingi slams in.
“Yeah baby, say my name, not his.”
Hongjoong turns your face toward him again, making you maintain eye contact with him while Mingi fucks the living daylights out of you. He twiddles with your necklace as it sways back and forth from the rough pace Mingi has set.
“You’re so pretty like this.” Hongjoong whispers, breath hitting your face.
Mingi’s hand fists in your hair, messing up the careful style you put it in for the night. He yanks your head back some more, “This pretty is mine.”
“Then why’d she let me kiss her tonight?” Hongjoong’s voice almost sounds amused. “Why’d she let me touch her at that table?”
Mingi’s hips stutter, and he grits through his teeth. “Because she wanted to piss me off.”
“Did it work?”
“Fuck yes, it worked obviously.” Mingi’s voice cracks, “I hated watching you touch her, hated seeing her smile at you like that.”
Your heart is pounding, you wouldn’t be surprised if you saw it on the tile floor at this point. Hongjoong’s thumb brushes your lower lip, smudging the gloss even more. “She’s got you fucked up,” Hongjoong says softly.
“Royally fucked up.” Mingi agrees, and his pace doesn’t slow, his cock driving into you with no mercy. “And you’re not helping.”
Hongjoong looks at Mingi to smirk, “wasn’t trying to.”
You’re close, the pressure is building, walls constantly clenching around Mingi’s cock, he feels it, and his hand slides around to rub your clit in rough circles. “Cum for me, and only me.”
Hongjoong disregards his words. He moves to your neck, sucking hard. Trying to leave a mark that overlaps with Mingi’s. Hongjoong’s hand then goes to cover Mingi’s, pressing even harder against your clit. “You can do it for both of us.”
Your orgasm hits you hard, Mingi groans as you puls around him. He doesn’t last much longer as he spills everything he has inside you. Your legs shake, and Mingi rests along your back as his hands grip your hips.
Hongjoong steps back slowly, hand trailing down your arm before he lets go completely. His lips and face are left with the evidence of you.
Mingi pulls out carefully, the sound echoing. He adjusts your dress before turning you back around. His eyes are still dark like he’s not done, like there’s no way he’d stop right here. “We’re not finished,” his thumb brushes your swollen lip.
Hongjoong adds on, sitting on the opposite wall, watching everything unfold in front of him. “Didn’t think we were.”
“Go out first,” Mingi says to Hongjoong, “we’ll follow in a minute.”
Hongjoong fixes his collar and slips out the door without another word. The second it clicks shut, Mingi’s hand is back in your hair. He yanks you to face him directly. “Knees now.” Mingi takes off his jacket, puts it on the floor, points to where you need to be
You sink down slowly onto the cloth of his jacket. He’s still half hard, still slick with you and him, and the sight makes your mouth water. “Open up for me.” He doesn’t ease in, just pushes into your mouth till you’re gagging around him.
Your hands go straight to his thighs, nails digging in, but he doesn’t stop. He just holds you there as your eyes begin to water, makeup surely isn’t lasting.
“You wanted to make me so fucking jealous, to let him touch you like that–just a damn slut.” You can’t breathe, just gagging as he pulls back and thrusts deeper. Spit drips down your chin, he wipes some up with his thumb and pops it into his mouth, mascara’s running even more.
“Can you say anything? You were a fucking chatterbox at the table. Or are you too full of my cock right now?”
He pulls back to give you a small breath to speak, “It was worth it.” He pushes right back in, your throat burns, and your jaw aches, but you don’t pull away. You take it all.
When he pulls out completely, you’re gasping, drool and cum smeared across your lips, he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him.
“Shit. Go fix yourself,” he’s still angry, you can hear it in his voice, “then get back to the damn table.”
You nod, legs shaking as you stand, your reflection is scary to look at, it’s progressively gotten worse. Lips swollen, eyes glossed over, throat a fucking abstract painting. Mingi tucks himself back in, adjusting his shirt. “And don’t take too long.” He leaves right after.
You stand there for a moment, still tasting him on your tongue, until you get a text.
joong: vip lounge. upstairs, now
You don’t listen to Mingi out of pure rebellion, out of still being agitated. You head in the opposite direction from the main ceremony.
The lounge is dimmed, plush velvet couches. It’s meant for the donors and execs of the event, but it’s empty since everyone has filtered into the main room. You can hear the muffled sound of applause starting downstairs as you push open the door.
Hongjoong’s already inside, leaning against the back of the couch. He straightens when he sees you, eyes looking over your appearance that you put in no effort to fix.
“Fuck–” he breathes, “he really–”
You walk up to him, grab his tie, and pull him down into a kiss. He groans into your mouth, tasting Mingi on your tongue, and you feel him get harder. His hands find your waist, pulling you against him. “You taste like him,” he whispers, and he’s not complaining.
“I know. Now you’re going to make me taste like you.” You push him back onto the couch, his thighs spread and cock straining against his dress pants. You straddle him, and his hands grip your thighs.
You pull out your phone.
“What are you–”
You dial Mingi, and he picks up on the first ring. “Baby? Where are you? The ceremony’s starting—”
You lean forward and kiss Hongjoong slowly, tongue sliding against his while Mingi’s voice booms through the speaker. “Hello? You there?”
You pull back from Hongjoong’s mouth, breathless. “I’m here, honey.”
“Where the fuck did you go? I’ve been waiting–”
“Wanna hear something?” You interrupt his thoughts, tired of him having his way.
There’s a pause, then you can hear the weariness in his voice. “What?”
You set the phone down on the armrest, speaker on, and grind against Hongjoong’s cock. He hisses, hands tightening.
“I get to make my own special track now,” Hongjoong says, eyes locked on yours. He pushes your dress to expose the wet mess between your legs. Silence on the other end of the phone until Mingi speaks again. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Vip lounge,” you say, rolling your hips again. “Upstairs.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“You’re going to fucking listen.” Your hand slides down to palm Hongjoong through his pants, and he groans. “You’re going to sit through that ceremony and smile for the cameras while I let him fuck me. Understand?”
Barely audible over the phone, Mingi groans. “Fuck.”
Hongjoong’s hands are yanking your panties to the side, fingers sliding through your slick folds again. “Jesus, you’re so soaked still,” he says loud enough for the phone to pick up. “You this wet from him? Or from knowing he’s listening?”
“Both,” you gasp as two fingers push inside you. Through the phone, you hear Mingi’s sharp breath. Hongjoong pumps his fingers slowly, curling them upwards, and you whimper. “She’s dripping down my hand,” like he’s narrating an audiobook for Mingi, “clenching around my fingers. You should feel how tight she is.”
“Hongjoong—” Mingi’s voice is strained.
“What?” Hongjoong pulls his fingers out, sucks them clean. His eyes roll back, “fuck she tastes good. You already knew that, though.”
You fumble with his belt, can barely focus as you shake with need. He helps you to free his cock, he’s leaking and flushed. You wrap your hand around him, stroking, and he groans.
“She’s got her hand on my cock now,” Hongjoong says, head falling back again, “stroking me, fuck–tighter, baby, just like that.”
You listen and twist your wrist the way he likes, and precum beads at the tip, you swipe your thumb through it, bringing it to your lips.
“She just licked my precum off her thumb,” He’s still reporting everything with a wrecked voice, “while looking right at me.”
Through the phone, you hear someone speaking to Mingi. His voice is strained when he responds, “Yeah. I’m fine. Just give me a sec.”
You try your hardest not to laugh, you go to line Hongjoong up and sink down onto his cock in one motion. The sound you make is desperate and loud.
“Holy hell,” he chokes out. You start moving, riding him hard. Your dress is bunched up, tits bouncing in his face with every thrust, Hongjoong is going cross-eyed.
You’re so wet the squelches fill the room, you know Mingi can hear it through the speaker. “Hongjoong–” you gasp, “fuck you’re so deep.”
“Yeah?” he thrusts up to meet your pace, “tell him. Tell him how deep i am.”
“So deep,” you moan, much louder now. “Filling me up–fuck.”
Mingi makes a choked noise, Hongjoong’s hand comes up, wrapping around the necklace. It’s actually a necklace Mingi gifted you. He pulls it, using it as leverage to pull you down harder onto his cock.
“This his?”
You nod, eyes watering as he pulls tighter. “Damn. You really give no fucks.” He shifts you right away, flipping you onto your back, your legs wrap around his waist as he ruts into you deeper and harder. “Hongjoong, please–”
“Please, what?” He slows down, grinding deep as you whimper. “Say it loud enough for him to hear.”
“Please harder—fuck I need it.”
He slams so hard the couch moves against the floor, his hand finds your clit, and rubs. Through the phone, Mingi’s voice has little control, “Hongjoong–”
“She’s close. She’s about to cum on this cock.”
“No–” Mingi starts, but you’re already losing it. Your body arches off the couch, a broken scream ripping from your throat. Hongjoong groans as you clench around him. You sob through it, Hongjoong’s name on your lips over and over, he keeps fucking you through it.
“Hey Mingi, she just came so hard she’s crying by the way.” There are tears streaming down your face, and it doesn’t stop. Hongjoong pulls out and bends you over the arm of the couch, then slams in from behind.
“Oh fuck–” you gasp, hands trying to find something to hold onto.
“One more for me–give me one more.” He fucks you brutally, skin slapping, his hand comes down on your ass, and you moan.
“She likes being spanked. Ooo Mingi, you got it good.” Mingi doesn’t answer, just breathes heavy through the phone. Hongjoong picks up the pace again, and you feel another orgasm coming. He overstimulates your clit, and you scream.
Hongjoong pumps you a few more times before he’s spilling inside you, you feel every pulse and twitch, making you clench around him again. For a moment, you can only hear the mingling of heavy breathing between the three of you.
Then downstairs, a loud sound of applause indicating someone has won an award. Hongjoong pulls out slowly, and you feel his cum start to drip down your legs. He collapses onto the couch, and you slump against the armrest, pure exhaustion.
You reach over with an unsteady hand, picking up the phone. Your voice is completely wrecked. “He just came inside me…I can feel it dripping out.” Then you hang up.
Hongjoong laughs beside you. “He’s gonna get you for that.”
mymingithingi: ur gonna quit fuckin playin w/ me.
You stare at the screen with a smile, heart still racing, cum sticky between your thighs, then you toss the phone onto the couch and close your eyes for a quick power nap.
Thirty minutes later, you’re back at the table. You’ve cleaned up as best as one could, given the circumstances. You fixed your lip combo, covered up the marks as best you could, smoothed down your dress, tamed your hair. But there’s no hiding the tremor in your hands and the way you walk like you still have a cock stuck up your ass.
Mingi’s still seated, doesn’t look at you when you sit down beside him. The ceremony’s still going, someone’s giving an acceptance speech.
Mingi’s hand slides under the table, finding your thigh. His grip is firm. “Smile, baby,” he says, deadly calm. “We’re being photographed.”
You smile, one flash and a click, then his hand moves higher, fingers pressing against the wet mess between your legs through your dress.
“You’re going to sit here,” he leans in like he’s whispering sweet nothings, “and feel him dripping out of you, and you’re going to think about what happens when we get home.”
You go still. His other hand comes up, adjusting your necklace, the one he gave you. The one Hongjoong used to leverage you with. Mingi straightens it carefully, gently, then leans in close enough so his lips brush your ear.
“At the end of the day, this is mine. And I’m going to remind you what the fucking definition of ‘mine’ means for the rest of the night.” He pulls back once more, smiles for the camera, and you realize your hands are shaking.
Across the table, Hongjoong catches your eye. He still looks a mess, hair messy and tie loose. Mingi notices, and his hand tightens around you.
“Both of you,” voice low enough that only you and Hongjoong hear. “When we leave here. Our place.”
Hongjoong only smiles, but your stomach is dropping into your ass. You thought tonight would get you even, would satiate your anger. Instead, you’ve made everything ten times worse.
✦ warnings: smut, nsfw. m/f/m threesome, oral, rough and gentle interplay, overstimulation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasmssss, consensual non-monogamy, praise kink, dirty talk, teasing, public/private setting (studio), use of recording equipment during sex, aftercare, reader & mingi in established relationship!!
✦ enjoy 4k words of filth, mingi and joonie are my bias wreckers so this was coming sooner or later lmao
edit: the pt 2 to this is now posted!! — cherry cravin’
Soup.
Warm, harmless. Comfort food. Not exactly the kind of thing you'd expect to end with your voice echoing through a studio mic, soaked in sweat and begging for release.
You’d only dropped by the studio because you knew he hadn’t eaten. The bag in your hand was still warm, the lid on the takeout container slightly fogged up. But the moment you stepped into the booth room and saw Mingi hunched over the mixing board, headphones askew, brows furrowed, lower lip between his teeth, you knew food was the last thing on his mind.
“Baby,” you said softly, setting the bag down. “Have you eaten anything since noon?”
“Mm… I had a vitamin water?” he said without looking up, then immediately perked up as you leaned over his shoulder. “Wait—did you bring—oh my god, I love you.”
You grinned. “I know. But do you love me more than this track?”
He spun in his chair, tossing the headphones onto the desk. “Hard question. It’s a sexy track. You wanna hear it?”
He hit play without waiting for an answer.
The beat rolled out of the speakers like smoke. Slow, sensual, laced with deep synth and breathy background vocals. You raised a brow. “This is… different.”
“It’s called Velvet Ash,” he said, grinning. “It’s kind of dirty. Too dirty for the album, probably.”
“Mm. Sounds like foreplay.”
Mingi leaned back in the chair, letting his knees fall apart as he looked at you. “Exactly. But it’s missing something.”
You sipped your drink. “What, more moaning?”
His grin widened. “Exactly.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You want me to moan into the mic, don’t you?”
“Honestly? After bringing me soup instead of sucking me off in the hallway, I think you owe me.”
You threw a straw wrapper at him, but he was already standing, motioning toward the sound booth with a flick of his hand.
“Come on,” he said. “Just for fun. I want to hear how you sound through the headset.”
You hesitated for about half a second, and finally you walked into the booth.
Inside the booth, everything felt tighter. Darker. Your reflection glinted faintly in the glass. Behind it, Mingi leaned on the console, watching you with amusement and just a hint of heat.
You slipped the headphones on. The mic stood inches from your mouth, silver and cold, catching your breath even when you didn’t speak.
“Okay,” Mingi’s voice said through the headset, already lower. “Give me something.”
You smirked. “Like what?”
“Start with my name.”
You bit your lip and leaned in, the sound of your own voice strange in your ears. “Mingi.” A wave of heat pooled low in your belly, nerves tingling and something deeper blooming.
A beat passed and you heard him suck in a quiet breath.
“Again. Softer.”
“Mingi.”
“Fuck, baby…”
The track played softly in your ears now. He’d dropped in the instrumental beneath your voice, looping the synth under your breathy tone.
“Now… say it like you can feel my cock hitting that spot you can’t reach without me,” he murmured.
Your thighs pressed together.
“Mingi,” you said, a little needier this time, and the mic caught the edge of it. Your breath, the almost-whimper.
“Shit. Stay just like that.”
You watched him move, leaving the mixing board behind, disappearing from the window. A second later, the booth door creaked open behind you.
Mingi stepped in and shut it, the red “recording” light blinking above him like a warning. Your mouth parted, but he didn’t say anything. Just walked up behind you, big hands settling on your waist.
“I can hear everything,” he murmured against your ear, adjusting the mic so it was just above your lips. “Even your heartbeat. Wanna know what turns me on more than anything?”
“What?”
He leaned in close, voice just for you now.
“The way you sound when you fall apart for me.”
One hand slipped between your thighs, cupping your heat through your leggings. His palm was wide, warm, pressing slow and deliberate against your pussy until you let out a shaky gasp–and it echoed instantly through the mic. pressing gently over your clothes.
He grinned against your neck.
“There it is.”
In a fluid motion, he dragged your leggings down, kneeling behind you, kissing the back of your thigh as he eased them past your knees. Then his hands were on your ass, thumbs spreading you apart, his breath hot against your cunt as he leaned in and licked a slow stripe up your folds.
“Fuck–” you whimpered, legs twitching, your voice breaking into the mic.
Mingi groaned against you, tongue flicking your clit before he pulled back just slightly to look at you. “You’re soaked already–this pussy missed me, huh?”
You nodded, dazed, one hand braced on the mic stand as the other tangled into his hair.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Say how bad you missed my mouth.”
“I missed it, I missed your tongue–I missed everything.”
That was all he needed.
His mouth found, like he was starving, lips latching onto your clit while his tongue swirled fast and messy, not teasing anymore. "Gonna tell me what feels good?"
He buried his face between your legs, nose brushing your ass as he sucked your clit with so much pressure, letting out a deep growl that vibrated through your entire core.
The mic picked up everything, the wet, filthy sounds of his mouth working your cunt, the ragged gasps falling from your lips, the whispered “fuck, fuck, Mingi–”
Then he slid two fingers into you, they curled perfectly, hitting your sweet spot like he knew exactly where it was.
His pace was ruthless, tongue dragging over your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of your dripping hole, spreading you wider and deeper.
“Listen to yourself.”
“Lean into me, just like that, baby.”
You moaned helplessly. It was all so loud, his fingers squelching inside you, the wet drag of his tongue, your own desperate, breathless cries.
“Mingi–don’t stop, don’t stop–” you panted, hips rocking shamelessly against his face.
He slapped your ass hard enough to make you yelp. “Say it into the mic, pretty girl.”
You choked on a sob. “Mingi–please, I’m so close, I’m gonna–”
“Fucking cum for me, I wanna hear how you break when I make you finish.”
That did it.
Your whole body tensed, thighs shaking as the orgasm ripped through you. You cried out–loud, raw, moaning his name into the mic while your pussy clenched around his fingers and your knees nearly buckled.
But he didn’t stop.
He groaned like he was on your taste, lips dragging over your swollen clit again and again, tongue flicking until your body jerked and twitched and kept cumming, wave after wave rolling over you until you were boneless.
Only then did he finally pull back, his mouth and chin glistening. He kissed the inside of your thigh one last time, then stood slowly, towering over you as you tried to catch your breath.
“Fuck. That sound? He muttered, licking your taste off his lips. “That’s better than anything I’ve written.”
You didn’t have time to answer.
Under the dim booth lights, his pink hair was messy and pushed back from the headphones and casting golden shadows across his sharp cheekbones. A loose white tank clung to his torso, the neckline slipping wide over one shoulder. His black sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, revealing the deep cut of his V-line every time he moved towards you.
You had one hand gripping the mic stand. “Baby…” Your voice cracked, helpless.
“This mic’s not gonna survive tonight.”
You barely heard him over the blood rushing in your ears.
Your legs started to shake as the pressure built, every nerve lit up.
“Jesus,” you panted, letting him wrap an arm around your waist to steady you. “You—fucking—“
“Better than soup?” he teased.
You slapped his arm. “Shut up.”
But he only grinned and kissed you hard, one hand cupping your jaw as your taste lingered on his tongue. His other hand slipped behind your thigh, gripping it and tugging you forward until your hips met the hard length straining against his sweats.
You gasped into his mouth. “Mingi—”
“I need to be inside you,” he growled, forehead pressing against yours. “Can I?”
You didn’t answer. Just nodded and grabbed the waistband of his pants, pulling them down with a needy moan as his cock sprang free. It was thick, flushed red at the tip, already leaking.
You braced your hands on the mixing desk inside the booth, arching your back as you looked at him over your shoulder.
“Fuck me here. Just like this.”
He didn’t hesitate. His hand gripped your hip, the other guiding his cock between your folds, he was sliding in, slow but unrelenting, filling you inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt.
“Holy fuck,” he groaned, forehead pressed to your shoulder. “You’re so fucking tight–gripping me like you don’t wanna let go.”
He started to move deep, hungry thrusts that made the desk creak and your voice rise. He pushed the mic closer to your mouth and whispered:
“Talk. I wanna hear every filthy fucking word.”
You moaned loud. “You feel so good–so deep, Mingi, fuck me harder, don’t stop baby.”
He slammed into you faster, rougher, his hips slapping against your ass as your tits bounced with every thrust. You could hear everything: his panting, your cries, the obscene wet sounds where your bodies met.
“I’m gonna cum inside you,” teeth sinking into your shoulder. “I’m gonna fill you up so deep it drips down your thighs.”
“Do it please, want you to–” you begged, tears threatening from the pressure building again.
He reached down and rubbed your clit with two fingers, fast and messy. “Come for me again, baby. Let the mic hear how my cock makes you unravel.”
Your vision blurred. The pressure exploded in your gut, your walls clenching tight around him as you screamed his name into the mic.
“Fuckkk–I’m cumming—” he gasped, then he was spilling inside you, groaning like an animal, thrusting deep as his release flooded your cunt.
You both collapsed against the desk, sweaty, shaking, barely breathing.
And the entire time?
The track kept looping softly in the background, now layered with the most explicit, honest take he’d ever captured.
A few minutes later, you lay curled in Mingi’s lap on the studio couch, your bare legs tucked beneath his hoodie, your head resting against his chest. His hand stroked lazily up and down your thigh, slow enough to calm your still-trembling muscles.
He had cleaned you up with one of his softest shirts, murmuring little apologies as he wiped between your thighs, even though his cock had twitched the whole time like he wanted to go another round.
Now, with your pulse finally settling, he fed you bites of lukewarm soup between kisses to your hairline.
“Think I blew your mic out,” you mumbled, voice hoarse, lips swollen.
Mingi chuckled, low and pleased, rubbing his knuckles against your hip. “You blew me out.”
You snorted, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m serious. That mic probably short-circuited the second I screamed.”
He shifted slightly to grab his laptop from the desk and hit play. The track rolled through the studio monitors again–still smoky, still sensual–but now layered with something new; your breathy moans spliced into the background like vocals, tucked between beats like a secret only he could hear.
You looked up, shocked. “Wait, is that seriously me?”
He smiled, eyes dark. “You said not to use the whole thing. You didn’t say I couldn’t sample you.”
“Babe, are you insane?”
“Insanely inspired,” he said, all smug affection. “You sound better than any synth I’ve ever layered. Your voice moves.”
You groaned and buried your face in his chest even deeper. “You’re the worst.”
But his hand slid up under the hoodie you wore, his hoodie, just to rest against the curve of your bare back.
“I’m serious,” he whispered, brushing his lips over your temple. “I’m keeping this version. I don’t care if it never gets released.”
Silence hung for a second, soft and golden.
Then, Mingi leaned down and murmured against your ear, “Next time, I want you in my lap with the mic between us. I want to feel you fall apart while I stay deep inside.”
You blinked slowly, heat curling low in your belly again despite the haze of exhaustion.
“Jesus, Mingi.”
“What?” He smirked. “Art takes commitment.”
You exhaled a laugh and let him tuck the blanket tighter around you both.
Outside the booth, the city lights glowed faintly through the windows. Inside, the studio felt like its own universe, dim, pulsing, echoing with the memory of your moans looped under Mingi’s unfinished track.
And as the soft, dirty demo played in the background, Mingi kissed the top of your head and whispered, “Don’t worry. I saved all the stems. We can remix it together next time.”
The track looped when the door creaked open.
You didn’t even look up at first, too dazed in Mingi’s lap, your bare thighs tangled under his hoodie. His hand still cupped your hip, possessive and warm.
“Uh.”
The voice hit you like a shockwave. Familiar. Sharp. Hongjoong.
Mingi didn’t flinch. He didn’t cover you. Just grinned lazily, his chin on your shoulder as he looked toward the door.
“Yo.”
You turned your head slowly. Hongjoong stood frozen in the doorway, headphones around his neck, eyes flicking between your flushed face, Mingi’s hand on your thigh, and the faint, breathy moans echoing from the studio monitors.
His voice was dry. “...Should I come back later?”
Mingi just chuckled. “Too late. We just finished recording.”
“Did you,” Hongjoong deadpanned.
Your cheeks burned. You tried to tug the hoodie lower over your thighs, but Mingi's hand stopped you. Kept you in place.
“Mingi,” you whispered, mortified. But he only squeezed your thigh.
“Don’t hide. You sounded gorgeous.” He flicked his gaze to Hongjoong, smug. “Wanna hear the demo?”
“I’m...already hearing it,” Hongjoong said, stepping fully into the room now. His voice was neutral, but his jaw was tight. His gaze dropped to the waveform still rolling on Mingi’s laptop, the audio looped with your moans layered soft in the mix.
Mingi hit play.
Hongjoong stood silent as the sound filled the room. The filthy edge of your breathing. The tremble in your voice when you said Mingi’s name. The wet sounds of Mingi’s mouth on you, caught raw by the mic.
Then Hongjoong spoke, voice low. “This your new production method? Guess I’m behind on trends.”
You buried your face in your hands. “Oh my god.”
Mingi laughed softly, his hand sliding up your bare thigh. “Jealous?”
That made you look up. Hongjoong’s expression shifted, not shocked now. Curious. Something darker simmering behind his eyes as they flicked to you.
“I didn’t say no.”
Silence pulsed. Mingi’s fingers flexed against your skin. You felt the shift in the air before anyone spoke.
Hongjoong set his headphones on the desk. “I’m not touching unless you want me to. But...” He stepped closer, voice dropping. “I want to watch you fall apart. This time, clean vocals.”
Your breath caught, heart pounding in your ears. A swirl of nerves, curiosity, and something thrilling flickered inside you. Could you really let him? Could you bear the weight of both their gazes?
Mingi murmured against your ear. “Baby. Your call.”
Slowly, shakily, you nodded.
Mingi’s hand stroked your thigh once, warm and grounding. Then he shifted beneath you, setting you gently onto the couch before standing. You watched, dazed, as he adjusted the mic arm lower, turning to Hongjoong like this was just another collaborative track session.
But you could see the hunger in Mingi’s eyes. And Hongjoong?
His gaze was locked on you now. Heavy. Unblinking.
“C’mere,” Mingi murmured, guiding you over to the couch. He sat first, pulling you directly into his lap, facing out toward the room. His thighs spread beneath you, his arms wrapping tight around your waist. You felt his cock, hard and heavy against your lower back.
“Let him watch you,” Mingi whispered against your neck. “Let him hear you.”
The mic picked up your breath instantly. Hongjoong stood frozen, watching. Silent. Starving.
Mingi reached down between your spread thighs, cupping your cunt possessively. His fingers dipped between your folds, sliding through your slick, then slowly, deliberately, he spread you open wider using just his thumbs. Letting Hongjoong see everything.
“Fuck,” Hongjoong exhaled.
Mingi chuckled darkly. “Pretty, right?”
You whined, trembling in his hold. But he didn’t let you close your legs. Didn’t let you hide.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, dragging two fingers over your clit, slow and steady.
“Come here, Joong,” Mingi said softly. “Taste her while I hold her open for you.”
Hongjoong moved like he was in a trance. He dropped to his knees between Mingi’s spread legs, directly in front of you, his breath hot against your bare, soaked cunt.
“Don’t make her cum yet,” Mingi warned, voice sharp.
Then Mingi held you wide open while Hongjoong leaned in and licked a slow, thick stripe over your clit. You sobbed instantly. The mic caught it raw.
Mingi’s grip on you tightened. His cock rutted up against your back as Hongjoong worked his mouth over you, wet and filthy. Every flick of his tongue sent tremors through your overstimulated body.
“Good, Joong. Just like that. Tease her. Make her fall apart in my arms,” Mingi rasped.
Hongjoong hummed against your clit. You could feel Mingi's cock twitch behind you. He let one hand slide up to squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple while his other hand held you splayed for Hongjoong’s tongue.
“Say his name, baby,” Mingi ordered.
“H-Hongjoong,” you gasped, back arching helplessly against Mingi’s chest.
“Again. Louder.”
“Hongjoong!”
Both men groaned.
Your whole body shook, overstimulated and pinned down, Mingi controlling every inch of you while Hongjoong’s tongue destroyed you from below.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take more, Mingi leaned down and whispered, “You’re gonna cum now. Right on his mouth. And I’m gonna feel every second of it.”
You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, loud and broken, the mic capturing every desperate sound. Hongjoong didn’t stop, he lapped at your clit mercilessly, drinking down your release while Mingi held your convulsing body still, praising you through your cries.
When your body sagged limp, Mingi finally pulled Hongjoong back, voice rough. “That’s enough.”
Hongjoong wiped his mouth, panting, eyes blown wide as he looked at you. “Shit… you’re shaking.”
“I’ve got her,” Mingi said softly, sliding his arms around your waist. You could feel how hard he was, pressing up against your back, but his touch was gentle. “Baby. You okay?”
His throat bobbed. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
Mingi leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “She doesn’t want you to stop.”
Hongjoong let out a strained laugh. “No… I didn’t think so.”
Mingi eased you forward, guiding you carefully toward Hongjoong. “C’mon, baby. Let him feel you.”
Hongjoong sat back on the couch, legs spread, watching you with something between awe and hunger. His cock flushed dark and heavy, leaking precum.
“Ride him,” Mingi murmured. “I’ll help you.”
Your thighs trembled as you moved, letting Mingi lower you slowly until you were straddling Hongjoong, facing him. His hands instinctively caught your hips, steadying you.
Hongjoong looked up at you as you sank down onto him inch by inch, his jaw slack, his breathing wrecked. “So fucking tight... you feel unreal.”
Your moan cracked as he filled you. Mingi’s arms came around from behind, one hand holding your waist, the other finding your clit instantly, circling in slow, merciless patterns.
“Fuck, Joong. Feel her?” Mingi rasped against your neck.
“Too well,” Hongjoong groaned, eyes fluttering shut as your walls squeezed him. “She’s choking me.”
“Good girl,” Mingi praised, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Take him. Just like that.”
Hongjoong’s eyes flicked up to yours again, blown and desperate. “Move for me, babe. Please.”
You rocked your hips forward instinctively, grinding down on him as Mingi’s fingers worked your clit, drawing a broken sob from your throat.
“Fuck… that’s it,” Hongjoong gasped. “Ride me. Just like that.”
“Let him use you, baby,” Mingi whispered, teeth grazing your skin. “Still mine.”
You whimpered, your body shaking between them, pleasure building sharp and fast. Hongjoong’s hips began meeting yours, rhythm desperate, sloppy. His hands slid up, cupping your breasts, thumbs flicking your nipples as his cock dragged in and out of you.
“You’re so good to me,” Hongjoong rasped, head falling back. “So fucking good.”
Mingi chuckled low behind you. “Don’t cum yet Joong.”
“Not planning on it,” Hongjoong snapped back, breathless.
Mingi’s fingers pressed harder against your clit. “She will first.”
Your body tightened, the orgasm building too fast to stop, especially with Mingi teasing your swollen clit and Hongjoong stretching you thick and deep beneath.
“Tell him you’re close,” Mingi demanded softly against your ear.
“H-Hongjoong… I—”
“Fuck, yeah. Let go. Cum for me,” Hongjoong begged, his voice raw now.
“Not just for him,” Mingi rasped. “For me.”
You shattered, your whole body locking up as your orgasm tore through you. Your cry ripped out of you, loud, broken, echoing off the studio walls. Both men moaned as you clenched down around Hongjoong, your body trembling violently.
Mingi tightened his grip around your waist, holding you still on Hongjoong’s cock.
“Fill her up,” Mingi ordered. “Now.”
Hongjoong’s broken gasp was the last thing you heard before he came, spilling deep inside you, his body shaking beneath you. He held you tight, voice caught in his throat as he emptied inside you.
Mingi didn’t move. He kept you pinned, kept Hongjoong buried inside you while you convulsed helplessly between them.
“Did I hurt you?” His voice cracked, eyes flicking between yours, still cautious even while wrecked.
“No… I’m okay. Better than okay.”
“Good girl. You took him so well.” His lips were soft against your skin now, his voice pure praise. “I’ve got you.”
Hongjoong’s chest heaved under you. He looked up at you, ruined. “Fucking hell.”
“Breathe,” Mingi murmured with a smirk.
You sagged forward against Hongjoong’s chest, unable to hold yourself up. Mingi slowly, gently pulled you back against him, lifting you carefully off Hongjoong’s cock, both of you panting, wrecked, his cum leaking down your thighs.
Mingi wrapped his arms around you tightly from behind, pressing kisses into your damp hair, your temple, your shoulder, wherever he could reach.
Your body was still trembling, the aftershocks rolling through you in waves. You couldn’t speak, not yet.
Across from you, Hongjoong sat sprawled against the couch, chest rising and falling hard, his face flushed and dazed. He watched you in silence, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Maybe guilt. Maybe hesitation.
Mingi noticed.
“She’s alright,” Mingi said quietly, glancing at him without letting go of you. “Don’t overthink.”
Hongjoong’s throat worked. “I wasn’t sure I should’ve…” He stopped himself, dragging a hand through his sweat-mussed hair. “I didn’t want to push.”
“You didn’t.” Mingi’s voice was simple. Honest.
You turned slightly, weak but lucid now. Your voice cracked. “Joong.”
He blinked.
“Don’t look so wrecked,” you whispered, lips twitching faintly. “I said yes.”
That made him let out a small, rough laugh, relieved. Tired. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”
Mingi kissed your cheek softly. “And you’re still mine.”
You hummed, leaning against him fully, limp in his arms.
Hongjoong shifted awkwardly, glancing down at himself, then back up. “Want me to… go?”
Mingi looked at him for a long moment. Then shook his head.
“Sit with us.”
Hongjoong hesitated, but he obeyed, moving closer, settling beside you, not touching, but close enough you felt his warmth.
Mingi reached over without thinking, pulling a blanket from beside the couch and draping it gently around your bare skin, then around Hongjoong too.
“Just relax,” Mingi said, his voice dropping soft for both of you now. “She needs to come down.”
Hongjoong’s voice was quieter. “You too.”
Mingi let out a soft chuckle. “Maybe.”
For a few long minutes, no one spoke. The soft loop of your demo played faint in the background, a ghost of the sounds you’d made together.
Mingi kissed your hair again, still holding you as if letting go wasn’t an option. Hongjoong watched you from the other side of the couch, quiet, his breathing finally slowing.
Eventually, Mingi spoke, voice low, possessive but warmer now. “We’ll talk later.”
You weren’t sure if that was meant for Hongjoong or you, maybe both.
But for now, wrapped in Mingi’s arms, Hongjoong silent beside you, you felt safe.
Summary: Wooyoung is your dealer, you were only meant to pick up the goods but you got more than what you signed up for.
Pairing: Dom!Wooyoung x Fem!reader x Dom!San x Dom!Mingi
Warnings: Drug dealer woosanmin 18+ MDNI, smut, slowburn. porn, foursome, nasty. drug use, cheating, blowjob, menace wooyoung , many more. just proceed at your own risk lol THIS IS PURE FILTH WRITTEN DURING EASTER SUNDAY.
Word count: 7,106 k. (fuck im sorry)
A/N: not proof read but I really just wanted to get this out there. might've switched between 'her' and 'you' im too used to 3rd pov.
The Seoul night air was thick with humidity, clinging to your skin like a second layer as you make your way down the narrow, dimly lit alley. This was the part of the city that thrived in the shadows, a place where the neon from the main streets bled into the murky puddles and the only sounds were the distant thrum of bass from the nearby club.
You knocked on the unmarked steel door, the sound echoing slightly. It was a rhythm you knew by heart. Three short taps, a pause then one more. A moment later, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.
Wooyoung stood there, a silhouette framed by the warm, low light of his apartment. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair loose-fitting grey sweats that hung dangerously low.
His hair was damp like he just stepped out of the shower, dark strands falling into his eyes. A silver chain rested against his collar bone. and the smell of wood and trouble clinging onto his skin.
You were greeted by a stoic face before changing it into a shit eating grin.
"you're late" Wooyoung smiled, voice sweet it was sickening. You leaned one shoulder against the door frame, face contorted in annoyance. "not like you got anything important to do."
A beat passed between you two. The bass from somewhere deeper in the building pulsed faintly through the walls, slow and deliberate, like a heartbeat. He stepped aside without a word, you slipped past him.
The apartment was dim, lit by the faint LED strip under his couch. His apartment reeked of za and a mixture of something warm- vanilla, maybe. Familiar. Intimate. a mistake waiting to happen.
The door shut behind you with a soft click.
Wooyoung didn't move closer right away. Instead, he leaned back against it. His arms folded loosely across his chest as he watches you walk further inside like you owned the place. His gaze dragged over your figure, slow and almost assessing.
"Could've sworn that I just gave you a cue last week." he said quietly.
You turned with your brow lifted. "I ran out quick"
That earned the fainted twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Wooyoung pushed off the door, walking towards the dining table set in the middle of his apartment. he glanced over his shoulder as he opened the box. Inside, nestled in velvet lining, were several neat little baggies of well preserved buds. "You gotta slow down with this baby" baby.
"I'm starting to think that you just want to see me" He turned around, leaning against the table after he retrieved her usual order. Your face contorted again in annoyance, choosing to not entertain his little games.
"But you know" He began, instead of handing the bag to her. His tone shifted slightly. "You're my best customer, always making sure I'm fed, never any trouble. And I believe in rewarding loyalty."
He set her usual baggie aside and reached deeper into the box, pulling out a smaller, unmarked one filled with tightly packed, dark green buds dusted with crystalline sheen.
"New arrival" He said, holding it up. " 'Starlight' is stronger than what you usually get. Smooth as fuck though, with a little kick to it. I want you to try it. On the house"
You raised a brow in surprise. "Free? Are you feeling generous tonight Woo?"
A small hum escapes from his lips. "Always, when it comes to you" He replied, his smirk returning. "But you gotta try it with me, right now"
Before you could say anything, he was already moving to grab his rolling tray, papers and a grinder. Your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness. You've been alone with him countless times, but for some reason. This felt different.
Wooyoung worked with a focused precision, his long fingers skillfully breaking apart the fragrant buds, grinding them to the perfect consistency. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his hands—the way they moved, the veins that stood out against his skin. God you needed to leave as soon as possible.
He caught you staring, and his lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Like what you see?" he teased, not looking up from his task. You scowled and whipped your head to the other direction. "fuck off woo" You breathed out. He chuckled.
"Alright try this" He finished rolling the joint with practiced ease, twisting the end perfectly. He brought it to his lips, eyes locking with yours as he lit it, the flame casting a warm glow on his features. He took a slow, deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before exhaling a plume that curled and dissipated into the air.
then, he held it out to you. "Try it"
You leaned forward, your fingers brushing against his as you took the joint from him. The contact was dangerous, electric, and a jolt of awareness that shot through you. You brought it up to your own lips, mimicking his slow drag, the smoke filling your lungs with a sweet potent haze.
As you exhaled, you felt it — a heady rush that your limbs feel heavy and your senses sharpen. The world seemed to slow down, the low hum of the city outside fading into a distant buzz. Wooyoung took the joint back, your fingers brushing again, and this time, his touch lingered.
You both passed it back and forth in silence, the only sounds the soft crackle of burning paper and your quiet breathing. The tension in the room grew thick, palpable , a living thing that coiled in the space between the two of you. Your skin tingled, pulse thrumming in your ears. You could feel Wooyoung's gaze on you, heavy and intent, and when you finally met his eyes, you saw something dark and hungry but he masked it in his boyish grin.
He knew. He knew exactly what it was doing to you, and he was enjoying every second of it. The teasing glances, the subtle brushes of his fingers, the low rumble of his voice — it was all a carefully orchestrated game, and you were willing to play.
"Feeling it?" he asked, his voice husky, the words hanging in the air between the two of you.
You nodded, your throat suddenly dry. "Yeah."
"Good" he murmured, leaning back against the couch with eyes on you.
Then, he leaned in closer.
You could feel the heat of him, the slow rise and fall of his chest almost brushing your shoulder. The joint burned low between his fingers, forgotten for a moment as his attention settled entirely on you.
"Your pupils are blown" he laughs lowly, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at your face. "hits fast dont it?"
You swallowed at the proximity, backing away a little. "Y-yeah.. You said it was stronger"
He hummed softly, amused. "Sure did."
he leaned back against the couch again, the low lighting carved shadows along his torso, tracing the defined lines of his abdomen, the V-line dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. His knees brushed against yours. Too close! need to leave now!
He took another slow drag, eyes never leaving your face this time, then he reached forward. Not with the joint.
With his free hand.
His knuckles brushed lightly along your jaw, tilting your chin upward just enough to hold your gaze. The touch wasn't forceful. It didn't need to be.
"I finally got to smoke with you, been waiting on when you're gonna let me roll for you" He grins.
Your breath felt heavier in your lungs, the room softer around the edges. "You never give free shits before so."
His thumb slid just barely under your chin, warm and steady.
"Well, you never stayed this long before" his voice was slow. A slow smile curved his lips.
You hum softly, then shaking his hold off you.
The air between the two of you felt charged, heavy with smoke and something far more dangerous and risky.
"You're okay. I got you. just relax" Wooyoung exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes dropping.
The high was settling into your bones, a warm, syrupy feeling that made the plush couch feel like it was swallowing you whole. You shifted, the fabric of your dress whispering against your skin. Everything was heightened now, the low thrum of the bass from a distant club.
The silence was killing you.
"So," You spoke, voice a little softer than you intended. "What is this again? Starlight?"
"mm," Wooyoung hummed, taking another slow dragged from the joint that's almost finished. He passed it back to you, fingers deliberately brushing against her palms. "New strain, Supposed to be special"
Your brows rose, feeling a bold curiosity fueled by the haze in your mind. "Special how? what's the side effects?"
Wooyoung leaned back, spreading his arms across the back of the couch. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. Instead of answering, he picked up his phone next to him, his thumb swiping across the screen. "Let's see what the pot heads says"
he squinted at the bright screen, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he let out a low chuckle, a sound was both amused and dangerous. He looked up from his phone, his eyes locking directly at you. The air crackled.
"Well, first on the list is doozy. check." He said, his voice dropping to that gravelly register that made your thighs clench. "Next is... and the primary effect is.. aroused."
The word hung between the two of you, stark and undeniable. Your breath hitched. A hot flushed crept up your neck, blooming in your cheeks. You blamed the weed, of course its the weed! but you knew it was more than that. It was him. It was the way that he's looking at you, like he knew every dirty thought tracing through your head.
"...Right" You managed, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably. You need a distraction until this shit wears off. Anything to break the intensity of his gaze. You reached out for the remote resting next to the ash tray. Your fingers fumbled with it as you pointed it at the massive , black screen mounted on the wall. You pressed the button.
The screen flickered to life, but it didn't return to a streaming service menu. It resumed exactly where it had left off. On the screen, a woman with her head thrown back in ecstasy was being thoroughly pleasure by a man whose face was mostly buried between her legs. The sound were vivid, slick and unapologetic. A litany of breathy moans and dirty talk filled the stunned silence of the room.
You froze, the remote clutched in your hand like a lifeline. Your face burned with a humiliation so acute it was almost arousing. "Oh my god, I—"
Wooyoung's laughter cut her off. It wasn't mocking; it was deep, genuine and completely unbothered. He didn't even flinch.
"I was watching porn before you arrived, sorry" He admitted with a casual shrug, as if he'd just confessed to leaving a dish in the sink. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, his gaze flicking from the screen to your mortified expression. A slow smile played on his lips before taking the remote from your hands. He pressed play before you could say anything.
"Woo! you're fucking insane" Your mouth hang open as your eyes naturally drifted to the screen. You should've stood up and left but he sank deeper into the couch next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
For a while, You two just watched in silence. The sounds from the TV filled the space, a rhythmic, explicit soundtrack to the tension coiling tighter and tighter between the two of you. You tried to keep your eyes glued to the screen or your phone but you were achingly aware of him beside you.
Then, to the corner of your eye, you saw it. A subtle movement. Wooyoung has shifted, slouching down into the cushions. He wasn't touching himself. Not overtly. But his hand had come to rest on his upper thigh, his long fingers languidly tracing the thick, hard line of his erection straining against the fabric of his sweats. He wasn't hiding it. He wasn't being aggressive. He was just... existing in his arousal, letting it sit there, a silent, powerful invitation. and that made it more dangerous.
Your own body responded instantly. A wave of liquid heat pooled low in your belly, your clit pulsing in time with the moans from the television. You squeezed your thighs together, a futile attempt to alleviate the sudden, desperate ache. You tried not to look, you wanted to leave but your body was heavy. You really tried but your eyes kept betraying you, darting back to the slow teasing circle his thumb was making, so close to where she suddenly, desperately wanted him to touch.
Wooyoung knew. Of course he fucking knew. He could probably smell your arousal from where he is. He let out a soft hum, a sound of deep satisfaction, and finally turned to look at you, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.
"See?" he whispered, his voice low.
"Told you it was special"
The porn on the screen faded into distant, irrelevant hum. The only thing in your universe was the man next to you and the thick, pulsing tension that was making it hard to breathe. Your eyes were now glued to the prominent bulge straining against the soft grey cotton of his sweatpants. It was a blatant, confident display, and it was doing things to you that you couldn't control.
You felt his gaze on you , hot and heavy, but you couldn't meet it. You were too caught up in the sight, in the ache throbbing between your legs. Unconsciously, your thighs rubbed together, a desperate, silent plea for friction you knew he could only provide. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest; Got you.
He held out the last of the joint, the paper now short and singed. "Here, finish it" He murmured, his voice thick with smoke and satisfaction.
You took it, you shouldn't have. You should've left. You brought it to your lips, your eyes still fixed on his lap as you inhaled deeply. The smoke was potent, laced with an aphrodisiac quality that melted the last of your inhibitions. It coursed through , a warm, permissive wave that told you to stop fighting, to just take what you wanted.
And what you wanted was right beside you.
As you exhaled a low, unsteady stream of smoke, your hand moved with a will of its own. It dropped from your lap to his thigh, the skin warm and firm beneath your touch. He didn't flinch, didn't move a muscle. He just let you explore, his body a silent, willing canvas.
Your fingers inched higher, tracing the seam of his sweats until they brushed against the hard, thick ridge of his cock. The fabric was soft, but beneath it, he was rigid steel. You curled your fingers, wrapping it around him through the pants. He was bigger than you imagined, thick and heavy in your grasp, and a jolt of pure unadulterated lust shot through you.
Wooyoung let out a soft hiss of air, his head falling back against the couch. He still didn't touch you, his hand resting loosely on his own thighs, offering you complete control. The power was intoxicating.
You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly through the fabric. The friction wasn't enough. It was a frustrating tease. You needed more. You needed to feel him. skin on skin.
Your fingers found the waistband of his sweats. With a soft decisive tug, you hooked your thumb under the elastic and pulled it down just enough. His cock sprang free, slapping heavily against his lower abdomen. The sight stole the air from your lungs. He was perfect— long, thick, and flushed a deep, angry pink, the tip already beaded with pearly precum.
The joint now forgotten, was crushed out in the ash tray. There was only one thing left to do.
Leaning over, you lowered your head. The scent of him, clean and masculine and uniquely Wooyoung, filled your senses. You stuck out your tongue, tracing a slow, deliberate circle around the head, lapping up the salt drop of precum. He tasted as good as he looked.
Wooyoung's sharp intake of breath was the only reaction you needed.
Then, you parted your lips and wrapped them around the head, sinking down slowly, taking him into the heat of your mouth. He groaned, a low guttural sound of pure pleasure that vibrated straight though you, settling deep in your core. You began to move, your tongue swirling, your slips sliding, taking him deeper with each pass, the television moans now a pathetic echo of the real thing happening on this couch.
The world has narrowed to the wet slide of your lips, the heavy weight of him on your tongue, and the deep rumbling groans he was letting out. You lost yourself in the rhythm, in the raw, primal act of pleasuring him. Every flick of your tongue, every hollowing of your cheeks, was met with a sharp intake of breath or a muttered curse from above. You were so focused, so consumed by the taste and feel of him, that you didn't notice the shift in the room's atmosphere.
Wooyoung, however, did. He was a creature of his own environment, always aware. And right now, his environment was about to be breached.
While you were occupied, his hand moved from his own thigh to yours. He didn't ask, didn't hesitate. He simply gripped the hem of your dress, the soft fabric a stark contrast to his rough, assertive touch, and pulled it up, baring your legs and the thin lace of your panties to the cool air. he didn't yank or tear; the motion was dominant but deliberate, claiming.
His fingers ghosted over the soaked fabric, and he chuckled, a low, dark sound of his triumph. "Fuck baby, You're dripping for me, aren't you?" He murmured, his voice a husky caress. He pressed the heel of his palm against your clothed core, the pressure a delicious torment that made you moan around his cock. He was in control, dictating the pleasure even though your mouth was around him.
Just as his fingers hooked the side of your panties, ready to grant you the pleasure you've been desperate to have, the front door clicked open.
You froze, your mouth still full of him. Panic, cold and sharp, cut through the haze of arousal. You tried to pull back, to scramble away, but Wooyoung's hand was suddenly firm on the back of your head, holding you in place. It wasn't a rough gesture, but a silent command: Don't move.
Two figures walked in, their laughter and casual conversation dying mid-sentence as they took in the scene. It was San and Mingi. Wooyoung's friends.
They stopped just inside the doorway. For a split second, there was a stunned silence. San's eyes widened slightly, a slow, appreciative smirk spreading across his face. Mingi just blinked, his gaze flicking from your flushed face, to Wooyoung's relaxed, dominant posture, to the very obvious act happening on the couch.
There was no shock, no outrage. Just mild surprise and amusement.
San was the first to speak, his voice casual as he shrugged off his jacket. "Well, that's fucking hot"
Mingi just snorted, shaking his head with a grin as he toed off his shoes.
They didn't stop and stare. They didn't gawk or make a scene. As if it were the most normal thing in the world to walk in on their friend getting head on the couch, they simply continued their path. They walk right past them, heading for the staircase that leads to the upper floor.
"Hey Woo" Mingi called over his shoulder as he started up the stairs. "Just grabbing Gedd's order. Don't mind us."
"Yeah," San added, following him up. "Carry on. Don't let us interrupt the ... this"
Their footsteps faded away, and then the sound of a door closing upstairs.
The silence that followed was deafening. You were mortified, your entire body rigid with embarrassment. But Wooyoung, still holding you gently but firmly, just tilted his head back and laughed. A real, deep, /pissed/ genuine laugh.
"Those dickheads..." he said, his voice vibrating through his chest and into your mouth. "Has zero fucking boundaries" He finally released his hold on your head, his fingers stroking through your hair softly. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust and something else— something like pride.
"Now.. where were we?"
The laughter died in Wooyoung's throat, replaced by a low growl of pure need. The interruption, far from breaking the spell, has only sharpened it, adding a dangerous, thrilling edge to the atmosphere. He looked down at you, your lips swollen and your eyes wide with a mixture of lingering shock and renewed hunger, and a slow dangerous smile spread across his face.
"get up" he commanded, his voice a husky whisper.
Before you could even process the order, he was already moving. His hands were on you, strong and sure, as he effortlessly flipped you over. You landed on your back on the soft plush cushions with a soft gasp, your dress still bunched around your waist. He hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and with one fluid decisive motion, pulled them down your legs and tossed them aside.
Now you were completely exposed to him, your glistening cunt open and waiting. he didn't give her a moment to feel self conscious. he lowered his head, not giving any warning before he dove in.
The first touch of his tongue was electric. A broad , flat stroke against your slick folds that made your back arch off the couch. He wasn't gentle or tentative; he was ravenous. He ate you out like a man starved, his tongue swirling and probing, finding your clit with a sickening accuracy that made you see stars. He alternated between sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves and fucking his tongue deep inside you, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you open for his assault.
You were so lost, your fingers tangling in his hair, your hips rolling against his face as he drove you higher and higher. The sounds from the TV were gone, replaced by the wet , lewd sounds of his mouth on you and your own breathy moans.
You were so close, teetering on the edge, when you heard footsteps again.
Your eyes fluttered open, your hazy vision focusing on the figure descending. It was San. He has come back down. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes fixed on the scene on the couch, on Wooyoung's head buried between your shaking thighs.
A fresh wave of heat, potent and dark, washed over you. This was wrong. This was filthy. And it was the hottest thing you have experienced.
San watched for a moment, his own arousal evident in the tight line of his jaw. he walked closer, his movements slow and deliberate, until he was standing right behind the couch. he didn't look at Wooyoung. He looked at you.
"Wooyoung" San's voice was low and rough that vibrated through the room. "You're gonna make her pass out before I get a turn"
Wooyoung lifted his head, his chin and mouth glistening with your arousal. He gave him a menacing grin, a feral possessive thing. 'Fuck off San"
"Just a taste" San bargained, his gaze still locked on you. His eyes were dark and intense, a silent question in their depths. "Come on, she looks so fucking delicious"
The decision wasn't Wooyoung's to make. It was yours. San was asking you. The power shifted back into your hands, and the thrill of it was immense. You looked from San's burning eyes to Wooyoung's challenging smirk. A part of you should've said no, but the weed, the lust and the sheer audacity of it all won.
You gave a slow nod, ashamed and embarrassed.
This was all the permission San needed. Wooyoung surprisingly didn't object. He just shifted to the side, making room. San knelt on the floor by the couch, leaning in. He didn't hesitate either, his head dipping back down.
And then it happened.
Two tongues, two sets of lips, working in tandem. It was a dizzying, overwhelming assault on your senses. Wooyoung was more aggressive, his movements focused and demanding as he lapped at your clit. San's was exploratory, his tongue delving, curling inside you, tasting you deeply. They share you, passing you back and forth between their mouths like a joint, their occasional brushes against each other only adding to the thrill.
Your mind went blank. You could only feel. The dual sensations, the sight of them between your legs, the sound of their shared appreciation. Your orgasm ripped through you with the force of a tidal wave, a blinding, shuddering release that left you gasping and weak, your body twitching with the aftershocks. They didn't stop, drawing out your pleasure until you were a whimpering, oversensitive mess, completely and utterly theirs.
You were still floating in the hazy aftermath, your body limp and pliant, when you heard the heavy footsteps on the stairs again. A third person. Your heart gave a little flutter of anxious anticipation. You didn't have to wait long to see who it was.
Mingi appeared at the bottom of the steps, his tall frame filling the space. He took in the scene instantly; Wooyoung kneeling on the floor, San's head still between your thighs, your legs splayed wide and still trembling. Unlike San's initial pause, Mingi's reaction was one of immediate understanding and a grin that was pure sin.
"Oh That's what we're doing" He announced, his voice a deep, amused rumble. "Let me get a turn"
He strode over, his confidence radiating off him in waves. While San finally lifted his head, his lips shiny and his expression satisfied, Mingi was already hooking his thumb into he waistband of his own sweats. He pushed them down just enough to free himself, and your breath was caught. He was long and thick, a heavy, imposing weight that he held in his fist.
He didn't ask. He didn't wait. He positioned himself by your head, tapping the thick head of his cock against your swollen, sensitive lips. The gesture was both a question and a command. You were caught in a dizzying spiral of submission and lust. You parted your lips willingly, inviting him in.
He slid into your mouth with a low groan, his hand tangling in your hair to guide you. The sensation was overwhelming— the weight of him on your tongue, the musky , clean scent of him filling your senses.
Just as you find the rhythm, you felt Wooyoung shift. He rose from the floor, his body moving over yours, caging you in. His eyes, dark and possessive, bored into yours as he notched the head of his cock against your soaked entrance. He paused for a fraction of a second, a silent moment of connection, and then he pushed inside.
A guttural moan was muffled by Mingi's length as Wooyoung filled you completely. He didn't start fast. He set a punishing, deliberate pace, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back in, deep and hard. Each thrust forced you further onto Mingi's cock, creating a perfect, overwhelming rhythm. You were the centre of their storm, a vessel for their shared pleasure.
San , now a spectator, watched the whole scene with an avid, hungry gaze. his eyes eyes tracked the way Wooyoung's hips snapped against yours, the way your body arched to take him deeper, and the way you hollowed your cheeks moved as you suck off Mingi. He palmed himself through his jeans, a look of intense concentration on his face.
Then, he calmly pulled out his phone, He unlocked it, his thumb moving lazily across the screen. You could hear the faint click of the keyboard as he typed, his eyes still glued on the sinful scene in front of him. He held his phone to his ears.
"Yo Gedd, Yeah listen, I'm gonna have to raincheck tonight.." he said, his voice completely normal, as if he was discussing the weather. He paused, listening. " Nah, I'll deliver tonight or tomorrow.. laters."
He hung up, tossing his phone onto the armchair across with a soft thud. He looked back at you, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face.
"Wouldn't wanna miss this"
The world was a blur of sensation, a symphony of overwhelming pleasure. You were completely at their mercy, caught between the two men using your body, their movements a perfectly timed, intoxicating rhythm. The air was thick with the smell of sex and smoke that made your head spin.
While Mingi's cock filled your mouth and Wooyoung's pounded into you, San was silent, appreciative audience. He moved in a languid grace, completely comfortable in the role of being the observer. He settled on the armchair across, rolling up another joint with practice eased just like Wooyoung. He lit it, taking a slow drag as he watched them, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.
Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Wooyoung's thrusts began to slow. With a final, deep groan, he pulled out of you, leaving you achingly empty. Before you could even process the loss, Mingi was already withdrawing from your mouth.
"My turn" Mingi rasped, his voice laced with lust.
He didn't give her a chance to move. With a strength that was both thrilling and a little terrifying, he gripped your hips and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. the position was lewd, exposing you completely. He wasted no time, gripping his cock and sliding it in one swift, powerful stroke.
A sharp cry tore out of your throat. Mingi was rougher than Wooyoung, his thrusts harder, more demanding. He sent a relentless pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. But it wasn't cruel. His hand roamed on your back before finding the lose strands of your hair, he gathered in a pony tail for him to hold.
He reached out one of his arms towards San, who passed him the lit joint without a word. Mingi took it, bringing it to his lips and inhaling deeply as he continued to fuck you from behind. The sight of him, tall and powerful, smoking calmly as he drove into you. It was pushing you over the edge.
But Wooyoung wasn't done either.
he sat back on the couch next to her, his legs spread. His cock, still hard and glistening with your arousal, stood at attention. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your face back towards his lap.
"Open up, Sweetheart" He says with mockery. "We're not done with you yet"
You willingly obliged, your lips wrapping around him once more. The new position was even more intense. Mingi's hard thrusts from behind forced your mouth down onto Wooyoung's length, creating a perfect, synchronised rhythm of being filled from both ends. You were their toy, their plaything, and the thought sent a fresh wave of gushing wetness down your thighs.
That's when the talking started, a low filthy phrase that pushed you to the edge.
"Look at you" San's voice heard from across the couch, thick with smoke and satisfaction. "Taking it so well. Such a good girl.."
"fuck, your mouth feels so good baby" Wooyoung groaned, his hips bucking slightly, pushing deeper. "Just like that, take it all"
Mingi, Holding the joint in one hand, used the other to deliver a sharp, stinging slap to your ass. The sharp smack made you clench around him. "You like that huh?" He growled, his voice rumbling against your back. "Like being fucked by both of us huh? While San watches? Nasty bitch"
The combined stimulation, the relentless pounding, the fullness in your mouth, the stinging pleasure on your ass, and the degrading words that was also praising her. was all too much. Your orgasm crashed through you, violent and consuming. Your body convulsed, your scream muffled by Wooyoung's cock as your walls clenched uncontrollably around Mingi's length.
They didn't stop, riding out your orgasm, drawing it out until you were a trembling, whimpering mess. Yet you craved for more.
You were a limp, quivering mess, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your last orgasm. You were barely conscious, floating in a haze of blissful exhaustion. But the night was far from over.
San had enough of watching.
He stood up from the couch, his patience worn thin. With a possessive growl, he moved to the couch, his eyes burning. He didn't ask, he didn't negotiate. He hooked his hands under your arms, yanking you back from Mingi with a rough, decisive pull that made you gasp.
"My Turn" San snarled, His words raw with declaration of intent.
he manhandled you onto the couch, positioning you so that you were straddling his lap. your back pressed on his chest. He lined up cock against your slick entrance. He didn't give you a moment to prepare before gripping your hips and slamming you down onto him.
A piercing scream tore from your throat, the sound instantly muffled as Mingi stood in front of you again, grabbing the back of your head and guiding your mouth back onto his slicked cock. San's pace was brutal, a ruthless, punishing speed that stole your breath. He used your body like a toy, lifting you up and slamming you back down , each powerful thrust driving you deeper onto Mingi's cock. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on painful , a while hot, blinding force that consumed you.
After a few moments of his merciless assault, San's movements changed, He stilled his hips, his hand gripping on your waist. "Ride me" He commanded. " Show me how much you want it"
Your muscles screamed in protest, but your body was desperate and it obeyed. You planted your hands on Mingi's waist for support and began to roll your hips, bouncing on San at the pace that he wanted.
Your eyes, blurry and hazy, landed on the forgotten joint smoldering on Mingi's hand. You reached for it, you needed the haze, the sweet smoke to dull the edged of this overwhelming feeling that's consuming you. Your movements clumsy as you continue to ride San, you brought the joint to your lips, inhaling a deep, shaky drag as you sank deeper on his length.
The three men watched you, utterly captivated. The sight of you riding one of their cocks while the other is stroking Mingi's, was the single most erotic thing they've ever seen if not experienced. Their gaze was heavy with lust, dark, possessive with pride.
Mingi stroked your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear of overwhelmed pleasure. "So fucking perfect"
Wooyoung took the joint off you from behind the couch, taking a drag off it while reaching to grope one of your tits. You exhaled the thick cloud of smoke, head falling back on San's shoulder as a sudden sharp clarity cut through the fog of lust. You looked at them, a breathless, disbelieving laugh escaped your lips.
"You guys are fucking insane.." you breathed out, voice hoarse from screaming and moaning.
San just chuckled, he nipped at your ear. "You love it"
He tightened his grip, a possessive, final claim. He held you still for a moment, his chest heaving against your back, his cock buried deep inside you. Wooyoung who was watching from behind the couch saw the opportunity, eyes locked at the way you were stretched around San. Your clit swollen and begging for attention. A menacing grin appeared on his lips as he made his way around.
“Gotta make sure she’s full right?” He spat on his hand, stroking his cock to make it slick, and then moved forward, positioning himself at your already occupied entrance.
Your eyes widened, a jolt of panicked excitement shooting through you. ‘W-wait! I- I can't!”
“Yes you fucking can, don’t be weak” San’s voice was low but reassuring, his arms tightening around you to hold you still. “Take a deep breath, I got you baby”
Wooyoung started to push. The pressure was immense, a burning, stretching sensation that teetered on the edge of pleasure and pain. You cried out, your hands unsure where to hold, body tensing instinctively.
“That’s it baby.. You’re doing so well” Wooyoung coaxed, his voice calming you down.
You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. He looks so fucking good. He pushed again, a slow relentless pressure, and then with a sudden, sharp pop, the head of his cock slid in along San’s
A scream was torn from your throat, the sensation of being so impossibly, unbelievably full sending your senses into overdrive. It was a feeling of complete and utter surrender, of taking you to your absolute limit and then pushed beyond it.
They gave you a moment to adjust, a precious second to breathe through the overwhelming stretch. Then, they began to move.
It was a clumsy, perfect rhythm at first, learning to move together. One would pull out slightly as the other pushed in, creating a constant, maddening friction. Then they found their pace, a synchronised, powerful rhythm that stole the air from your lungs.
Two cocks, stretching you, filling you, owning you. The pleasure was immense, a white-hot, all consuming fire that burned away every rational thought. Your head fell back against San’s shoulder. Your body limp and pliant in his arms as they used you, their shared grunts and groans sending you into another world.
“So fucking perfect” San whispered in your ears, “Such a good little slut”
“Made to be stuffed full” Wooyoung chimed in, his eyes locked on the sight of your cunt stretched around them. Then, he looked up and straight past your shoulders. He leaned in, over your shoulders where San’s face resides and claimed the older male’s lips. Like, they’ve done this before.
You could feel the two move their heads as they locked their lips, it was the most erotic thing you have ever witnessed.
The dirty words, combined with the relentless, dual stimulation, were your undoing. Your orgasm didn’t build; it detonated. A violent, explosive force that ripped through you, your body convulsing and clamping down around them as you screamed their names into the charged air. You were gone, shattered into a million pieces of pure, humiliating ecstasy, lost in the sensation of being filled by two men at once.
The world had dissolved into pure sensation, Your mind went completely blank as Wooyoung and San found a devastating rhythm inside of you. Each twin thrust sent a shockwave through your system, a perfect, agonizing pleasure that was too much and not enough all at once.
Mingi, who had been stroking himself with a slow, deliberate patience as he watched, finally decided it was his turn to join the symphony. He moved to the couch, his tall frame towering over yours from the side. He tapped his leaking cock against your cheek, no words were needed, your mouth complied.
You parted your lips, he slid into your mouth that followed a groan from his own lips. The slick heat distracts you from the painful stretch between your legs. Now you were completely full, three cocks, three men all focused on you.
They all work in tandem, a perfect coordinated machine of pure filth. San’s hips thrust up from below, Wooyoung’s drove down from above, and Mingi slid in and out of your mouth. They moved in a rhythm that was both brutal and beautiful, a shared ecstasy that consumed you whole. Your muffled whimpers and the slick, lewd music of their music of their bodies joining together.
You could feel it coming. The change in their breathing, the way their movements grew more erratic, more desperate and sloppy. They were all reaching their peak.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum” Mingi groaned, his hand tightening around your hair as he began to fuck your face in earnest. “Swallow it all– fuck.”
With final, deep thrust, he buried himself in your throat. His cock pulsed, and hot, thick ropes of cum filled your mouth. You swallowed instinctively, your throat working to take every drop as he groaned his release.
The sight of it, the feeling of you swallowing around Mingi, was the last straw for the two.
“Gonna fill you up” San snarled in your ear, his teeth grazing your neck as his hips slammed up into you one last time.
“Take it” Wooyoung groaned, his eyes wild as he drove deep.
They came together, a perfect, synchronized explosion. You felt the hot, powerful spurts of their release flooding your insides, two distinct pulses of heat that seemed to merge into one, filling you to the brim until their combined essence trickled down your thighs. The feeling was so intense, so absolute, that it triggered one final, shattering orgasm that ripped through what was left of your consciousness.
They stilled, the only sounds in the room their heavy, panting breaths. Mingi slowly withdrew from your mouth, a soft, satisfied sigh escaping you. Wooyoung and San remained inside you for a moment longer, their bodies trembling from the aftershocks, before they too pulled out, leaving you empty and dripping with their cum.
You collapsed forward onto the couch, used, quivering and a satisfied mess.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy, sated breathing of four people. The air was thick, saturated with the scent of sex, sweat and smoke.
Then, a sound cut through the haze.
It was your phone, buzzing and skittering across the coffee table. The sharp, insistent chirp of your custom ringtone– a cheerful, upbeat pop song– was scarily out of place. The screen lit, illuminating the name in bold, glowing letters Yunho.
The air turned into ice. Wooyoung who broke the silence, a slow wicked grin spreading across his face.
“Well, Well” He drawled, his voice a low purr against your ears.
“Looks like Boyfriend’s checking in”
You yanked your dress on, grabbing the baggies on the table as panic washes over you.
SYNOPSIS your psychology lecturer sucks, and nothing is helping so you seek help from a student who happened to take it last semester and scored a whopping 95 on the subject. Said student is also your cousin's highschool friend. What could possibly go wrong.
WARNINGS unprotected sex m&f (when have I ever written protected sex), he cums inside multiple sex positions, m and f oral receiving, fingering, san lives in a studio dorm I feel like that should be a warning, there's a scene where he pulls her to one edge of the bed and fucks her throat while fingering her which takes inspo from an enha fic but I forgot what it is I'll link when I find it (eventually). cnc if that counts cus she tries to push him off and says stop but he keeps going. san has a minor bulge kink. I have calc midterm why am I doing this NICKNAMES USED: dove I think he called her a slut or good girl I forgot
GENRE smut. minor fluff almost pwp
PAIRING san x fem bodied+presenting reader, reader is referred to as 'she'
WORD COUNT 6.7k (omg)
A/N wrote parts of this while my friends were playing repo on discord I'm so sad I couldn't join my laptop is mac uggghh. Anyway consider this my intro to working on more members of ateez I plan to write for each member once before disappearing again but don't take my word for it. Set in summer because I can and summer is a #stateofmind TECHNICALLY I am one foot in autumn but why should I conform with the rest of the world I'm the one writing this fic if I say it's summer it is summer. inspired from what im currently studying in psych rn everyone says it's ez af and I needed a wam booster cus im cooked. also idk for other countries but here in some student dorms are sometimes color or theme coded this takes inspo from a student dorm I used to live in I hate student dorms I lived in one for 6 months and I got depressed I tried my best describing it. ill stop fucking talking now enjoy this shitshow
one.
You decided to take a psychology subject this semester. Why not, right? It’s supposed to be a chill, easy elective. Light reading, maybe a little “how do you feel about that?” energy. That's what everyone told you. “You could pass this psych subject with both eyes closed and let God take the wheel!” Was what one of your friends said and you were like okay, bet.
Your lecturer is an asshole. Not just any asshole either, he’s the kind that makes you believe Sigmund Freud has risen from the grave just to personally ruin your GPA. You’re supposed to be critiquing Freud. Debunking him. Questioning his theories. Instead, this man stands there, reading off slides like they personally wronged him, and somehow manages to twist every single point into “and this is why Freud was actually right.”
The lecture hall is silent, not because people are learning.But because everyone is collectively thinking: why is he like this.
“He’s so fucking weird,” you rant, flopping dramatically onto Wooyoung’s bed like a Victorian woman with consumption. Wooyoung doesn’t even look up at first. He’s halfway through a juice box like a five-year-old, laptop balanced on his knee as he scrolls through his module.
“If it’s that bad,” he hums, finally glancing at you, “I’ve got a friend who took that psych subject last semester.” You narrow your eyes. “If you say you, I’m dropping out.” He ignores you, “High school friend. Got like… a 95 or something.”
You sit up immediately. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Remember San? The guy I introduced you to during orientation?” You do remember Choi San. Unfortunately. Because nothing about that man screams “psychology major.”
He looks like he invests in crypto for fun. Hoodies, varsity jackets, and now because it’s summer, collared polos that make him look like he’s about to discuss property investments over brunch at a country club. Add in the slightly slicked-back hair and those stupidly attractive “professor glasses” Wooyoung won’t shut up about? Yeah. If anything, he looks like the type to say “trust me, bro” before losing your life savings.
But annoyingly, he’s actually good at teaching.
Like, actually good. Patient. Clear. Explains things without making you feel like a complete idiot. Which is impressive, considering you have the attention span of a drunk raccoon in a nightclub.
two.
Every Thursday at 3pm, without fail, you show up at his student dorm. The sun is brutal, like “if I step outside any longer I might legally evaporate” levels of heat and the pavement looks one degree away from melting into soup. His building is… depressing. You take note of that the first time you visited, looking up from Google maps and thinking to yourself “is this a minimalist prison?”. A soulless, overpriced shoebox where the entire personality is “neutral tones” and “minimalist’s wet dream”
You text him and wait near the front entrance, he opens the door. You step inside. And then; awkward silence.
The elevator ride up is always quiet. Not uncomfortable. Just… weirdly formal. Like you’re both pretending this is a professional tutoring session and not whatever this is.
His room is small. Entryway, wardrobe on the left, bathroom on the right. Tiny kitchen with two stovetops that look like they’ve never experienced joy, a desk, a bed, and a window overlooking the university park. There's his things scattered around, which does help make it feel more alive, but that's about it.
You take the plush chair on his desk, and he takes the plastic one.
Week one.
You are the picture of academic validation; Notes. Questions. Engagement. You prepared, You revised beforehand so he wouldn’t think you’re dumb. You’re nodding like you understand everything. You’re saying things like “that’s interesting” unironically.
You are a liar, but at least you are a convincing one.
Week two?
Forty minutes in, your phone comes out, subtly. Like you think you’re slick.
San notices, of course he does. His friend (your cousin) has the same habit of finding whatever view is the nearest more interesting, tongue in cheek, before fiddling with his fingers whenever he finds something annoying or uninteresting. But you’re still answering everything correctly, so he just lets it go.
You’re also dressed for the heat, henley top, a few buttons undone, short skirt, because the weather decided to cosplay the sun. San, mid-explanation, pauses for half a second. His Adam’s apple bobs, and he looks away. Mouth agape for a second but shut the second he regained composure so you wouldn't think he's a creep.
Then he continues, like nothing happened. You pretend you didn’t notice, of course. But as it turns out.
You both pretend a lot of things.
Week three?
He realises something. You are, unfortunately, the same breed of menace as Wooyoung.
Which explains everything, actually. When he talks, you nod. Then slowly, your hand drifts to your phone. At first, he’s offended. You can tell. He pauses more, and his jaw tightens. But over time, he just exhales and resigned to continuing his ramble.
“...as long as you’re listening,” he mutters once while flipping through his notebook
You are listening, surprisingly. He is good at explaining.
You’re just also on TikTok, scrolling through videos. You are a multitasker, after all.
three.
“So, neutral stimulation essentially—” He stops mid-sentence for the first time, his jaw clenches before inhaling slowly like he’s trying very hard not to commit a crime.
You, completely oblivious, stretch in your chair. Arms up, back arching slightly.
Your shirt rides up just a bit, just enough to expose some of the skin of your stomach.
San immediately turns his head, and the window suddenly becomes the most fascinating thing he has ever seen. You drop your arms, glance at him, and smirk. “Lose your train of thought, professor?”
He doesn’t even look at you, murmuring as he flips through his notes from last semester “Don’t call me that.”
“Oh?” you tilt your head, sweet and insufferable. “But the glasses—”
“Continue reading page 42.”
“Wow,” you lean back, crossing your legs slowly, deliberately. “Authoritative.”
Silence.
“You’re failing this subject.”
You grin at him, the same grin that Wooyoung has. Physically it's different, but it radiated the same amount of mischief and playfulness.
“Not with you teaching me” you purr at him.
He mentally rolls his eyes at you.
Tonight he's on classical and operant conditioning. You know this because he said classical and operant conditioning twenty minutes ago and you said okay and opened TikTok.
"The unconditioned stimulus," San is saying, somewhere to your left, "produces an unconditioned response without any learning. So Pavlov's dogs salivated at food before any conditioning occurred. Are you following."
"Mhm," you say, to your phone
"So," San says, and something in his voice has shifted, just slightly, just enough that some animal part of your brain lifts its head “let's say you're crossing a road, you press on the pedestrian button. Do you think that counts as classical or operant conditioning?” He turns to you, your eyes are still glued to whatever interesting video your friends are sending you as you hum, “operant. You receive reward or feedback from an action.”
“That's correct,” San says, "if every single time you wear a short skirt," a beat, "and I get hard, is that a voluntary or involuntary response?”
You hum again, trying to think. But then your brain rewinds and tries to register his words, and your thumb stops scrolling.
You look up, and San is looking at you with an expression you have never seen on him before. His eyes that's usually warm, usually easy, the eyes of someone Wooyoung described once as annoyingly likeable, are sharp. Dark at the edges. His notes are still spread in front of him and his pen is still in his hand and his jaw is tight in a way that makes something in your stomach drop several floors
"Hold on," you say. "Wait."
"You've been teasing me," he says, simply. Not an accusation. Just a fact he's decided to present. "For three weeks."
"I haven't—"
His eyes drop to the skirt, comes back up.
You have been. You know you have been. You are not going to say that.
"San"
"Voluntary or involuntary" he says. "Answer the question."
Your mouth opens. Your psych knowledge, what little has survived three weeks of looking at him instead of his notes, scrambles for purchase. “Involuntary” you say, because the skirt was before the.. because the response would be… because…
"Good," he says, and the word lands differently than you expected, low and warm and doing something to your pulse that you would like to not examine right now "so if I talk to you like this" his voice drops, just slightly, just enough, "and you get wet"
Your face goes hot.
"That's an involuntary response," he continues, calm, clinical, San, who has been Wooyoung's friend since high school and is now looking at you like you're something he's been patient about "isn't it, dove." The dove goes directly into your sternum and stays there.
"That's—" you start "Unconditioned," he says. "Means you can't help it. Means it's not your fault." He tilts his head, just slightly. "You're already wet, aren't you."
You are not going to answer that.
The answer is yes, you are not going to say yes. You are better than a dog during mating season.
He nuzzles against you and something in him just snaps. Three weeks. Three weeks of short skirts and tiktok and that mouth and the way you tilt your head when you're actually listening which is always, annoyingly, always three weeks of being patient and good and sitting in the plastic chair out of courtesy while you get the comfortable one and explaining conditioning theory while you cross and uncross your legs like you're doing it on purpose.
Three weeks of blue balls in his own dorm room on a Thursday at 3pm like clockwork and he is done. “ your pupils dilated when I moved closer. That's not something you can fake, dove." San’s eyes are like laser beams staring into yours, and you have to pretend that you're not intimidated.
“I have no idea what you're talking about” you say, you try leaning backwards even more if that's even possible, because your back is already against his chair and it's getting suffocating. “You've been conditioning me too” San says gently “every Thursday you always wear these..short skirts and slightly unbuttoned henley tops” his eyes flickered down to your slightly exposed chest “did you think I wouldn't notice the pattern, dove?”
You decided to bring Wooyoung into the conversation as a last resort, somewhat of a ‘hail Mary'. “What will Wooyoung think about this?” Your voice comes out small and raw, your throat feels as dry as a desert and suddenly the afternoon sun shining through his window feels too much.
San actually pauses at this, he considers it.
"Wooyoung," San says, thoughtfully, "would say you've been asking for this for three weeks." A beat. "He knows you.". "Same mouth," San says, almost fond, sliding his hand up your thigh, "same deflection tactics. Doesn't work on me either.”
The position he's got you in is embarrassing.
He's kneeling in front of you, kneeling between your legs that are placed on top of his broad shoulders. His fingers are playing with the hem of your skirt, this is probably the most awkward and tense lead up to sex you've ever had if it wasn't for the pounding in your chest. He presses his face against your mound and breathes it in. "San I don't think this is appropriate—"
That voice, that voice that is all Wooyoung, sassy and deflecting and nervous underneath, and something behind his eyes makes a decision that his patience has been vetoing for twenty one days. His hands find your underwear and he pulls them down fast, none of the gentle peeling he'd planned, just off, gone, your ankles and then the floor and then he looks at you and exhales through his nose hard like a man who has been waiting a long time and is now very close and cannot be reasonable about it
He open mouth and kisses you hard, not soft, not polite, lips and tongue and heat all at once, messy and immediate, his hands pushing your thighs apart when they try to close and holding them there with a grip that means no, stay, and you gasp so loud it bounces off the walls of his small neutral-coloured dorm room.
San licks into you rough and thorough, not slowly, not academically; hungry, is the word, three weeks worth of hunger and his tongue working through you fast and deliberate and the sounds he's making are low and continuous and genuine and nothing like the patient tutor, nothing like country club polo shirt san, nothing like anything she's seen from him before surfaces. Chin soaked. Eyes absolutely wrecked. Jaw tight.
"I was right," he says, and his voice has dropped into something rough and frayed at the edges, "involuntary response." He pushes your thighs wider and looks at you and his chest is heaving slightly "you're wet." Thumb parting your labia, proving his point, watching your face twitch "you've been wet, haven't you."
"San—"
"How long," he says. Not asking gently. His grip on the meat of your thighs tightens. "How long have you been sitting in that chair like that"
"I don't know what you're—"
"Dove," he says, and the word comes out low and sharp and nothing like when he said it before, "I have your underwear on my floor. We are past the part where you pretend.”
"Three weeks," he says, and something in his jaw is doing the thing, the tight furious fond thing, "of that skirt and that mouth and you sitting in my chair crossing your legs every five minutes—" he ducks down and licks into you hard and fast and you cry out and your hand flies into his hair and grips and he groans against your cunt, as if saying yes, there, before he finally surfaces again immediately, breathing rough. "You've been doing this on purpose."
You open your mouth to say something.
"Don't," he says. His eyes are dark and his mouth is slick and he has never once in three weeks of Thursdays looked like this, the gentle hunk is somewhere else entirely, this is what was underneath the polo shirt the whole time "don't tell me you weren't." His hands shove your thighs wide and he goes back down and this time he doesn't surface, just stays, tongue working into her rough and relentless, no warmup no mercy no academic pace, just three weeks of patience cashing out all at once and the sounds coming out of you are embarrassingly immediate and loud and you’re grinding against his face before she means to and he groans like that's exactly what he wanted, like he's been wanting her to stop being polite about it. His fingers push in without warning. two, immediately, rough and deep and you gasp so hard you choke on it, your back arches clean off the chair and his tongue doesn't stop, won't stop, is working at your clit fast and relentless while his fingers curl and drive and find the thing that makes your thighs shake around his head. God, he loves it when you squeeze his head with your legs. He's always wanted those thighs wrapped around his face.
"San, San that's too—" He doesn't stop. His fingers pump into you rough slick and loud, the wet sounds obscene in the small room, and he makes a low hungry noise against your clit that vibrates through your entire body and the grip in his hair tightens. He surfaces one more time. Breathing wrecked. Hair destroyed from your hands. Eyes dark and satisfied and still sharp. "You want this," he says, rough, his fingers still moving inside you. watching your face fall apart, "say it."
"Three weeks, dove," his fingers curl, "say it."
"I want it " it comes out broken and small and honest and he smiles. "Good girl," he says, finally, warm underneath all the rough, and pulls you off the chair and onto the bed in one motion, "was that so hard?"
You don't give an answer because his fingers are still inside and your brain has stopped providing useful output and somewhere on the floor the psych notes and your underwear are keeping each other company and it's thursday at 5 pm. The sun is giving the dull room a golden glow.
Wooyoung is never finding out about this.
He's got one hand on your waist, guiding your head towards the edge of his bed. Your head is almost tipping back off the mattress until the world inverts and you're looking at the wall upside down, the ceiling and the underside of his desk, and San who's still got that slight flush on his cheek. Everything is making you slightly dizzy and warm in a way that's wrong in the absolute best way.
Your clothes are still half on, skirt shoved up, shirt slightly pushed down so San could see your bra. He considers taking the entire thing off but hormones said no and he'll take what he can get. You're a mess, general evidence of someone who got relocated mid sex, you make a noise of protest about the position but San places a hand on your sternum gently as a warning. From this angle he's just a shape above you. Dark eyes looking down at her inverted face, jaw tight, hair slightly messed from your hands, and he looks big, from here, the perspective doing something to the gentle hunk image that makes your stomach swoop hard
You hear his zipper.
"Three weeks," he says, conversationally, from above you, "of sitting in my chair." You feel him, the blunt warm press of him against your lips, and your mouth opens automatically, conditioned response, you think deliriously, unconditioned response, whatever, you don't care.
"open wider, dove." He taps on your lower lips. You open wider.
He pushes in slow from above and gravity does the rest and the angle is.. the angle is everything, the stretch of your throat, the depth he reaches without trying, and you gag immediately and he makes a low sound that is definitely not an apology
"There she is," he says, fond and rough simultaneously, his hand coming to rest on your throat, not pressing, just feeling, feeling himself there, and the intimacy of that makes your eyes prick "been wanting to see this for weeks." His hips start to move. Shallow at first, just enough to feel the flutter of your throat around him, and simultaneously his other hand finds you still slightly wet and pushes in two fingers, immediate, curling and the sound you make around him is muffled and desperate and your hips jolt up as an involuntary response. "Stay still," he says, and he sounds wrecked already, voice low and tight, "you're going to take both."
You try. You cannot stay still. His fingers are working into your gummy walls rough and deep and his hips are rolling forward. You're upside down and dizzy and full from both ends and the blood is rushing to your head and everything feels static and warmth.
"So good," he breathes above and you can hear it in his voice, the crack in it, the three weeks worth of wanting underneath the composed psych tutor "you're so good, look at you" his fingers curl and you gag around him, he hisses sharply "taking it like you were made for it". Yout hands find his thighs from below, the only anchor you have. “Mean girl," he says, low and fond and rough, hips pushing deeper, fingers pumping fast and slick "three weeks of that skirt" you gag. "and that mouth" his fingers curl. "and now look at you." You can't look at anything. The room is sideways and warm and his hand on your throat feels every sound you try to make before it gets past his cock and your eyes are streaming from the position and the fullness and the fingers working into you without mercy
"Involuntary response," he says, somewhere above you, strained and quiet and almost gentle "see. Your body always knew." His thumb finds your clit and presses, your muffled cry vibrates around him and his rhythm stutters. "Gonna be good for me from now on," he breathes, and it lands somewhere soft and permanent, fond underneath all the rough "aren't you, dove."
You squeeze his thighs. He takes it as the yes it is.
He finishes with his head tipped back and his hand braced on the mattress edge and a sound that isn't a word, just air leaving him rough and involuntary, his hips pressed forward and his fingers buried and your throat working around him milking every last bit of it down. He stays there for a moment, catching himself. The room is loud with both of you breathing, then he pulls out slow and you cough immediately, turning your head, gasping, the sudden absence of him leaving your throat raw and your lungs grateful and your whole upside down world spinning. he gets his hands under your head before it can drop, careful now, guiding you back up to horizontal and then sitting you upright on the edge of the mattress and crouching in front of you, hands on your knees, watching your face with those sharp warm eyes gone soft at the edges.
"Look at me," he says, quietly. Tutor San is back, checking for feedback. You look at him. Streaming eyes, wrecked throat, hair absolutely destroyed, and you meet his gaze and don't tap, don't pull back, just breathe and blink and hold his eyes, and he reads you the way he reads everything, thoroughly, and something in his shoulders drops half an inch.
Then his eyes go down.
His fingers are still slick. His hand, the one that had been inside you, and the bedsheets beneath where you'd been are wet. he goes very still for a moment looking at the evidence of what you did somewhere between the third finger and the ceiling, while you were crying and muffled and shaking. He groans. Low and genuine and a little devastated about it.
"You came," he says. Not an accusation. Just awe, slightly. Like you've done something to him personally. Your face goes hot. You say nothing.
"All over my fingers," he continues, and his voice has done the thing again, the rough fond thing, and his jaw shifts "and my sheets." He looks up at you. "Dove."
"I didn't mean to." You say, sounding somewhat normal for someone who just got their throat destroyed. He pushes you back toward the headboard.Not roughly but with the particular energy of someone who has just been handed new information and intends to do something with it immediately, guiding you up the mattress until your back meets the headboard and you're against it and he's kneeling over you and his hands find your legs. One goes up. One stays down. The split is immediate and exposing and your whole body protests the stretch and you grab his shoulder
"San, wait. I'm still—"
"I know," he says, and lines himself up, and you can feel the thick blunt head of him and you're shaking, you've been shaking for ten minutes, your thighs are trembling and your throat is raw and you are not prepared. He pushes in whole. One go. Slow but complete and entirely without mercy, seating himself fully while you're still adjusting to the split of your own legs, and the scream that comes out of you is immediate and loud and his hand claps over your mouth fast, dorm building, is the distant thought, neighbors. The scream goes into his palm and he feels it and his jaw does the tight thing and his eyes close briefly like he needs a second.
You're full. Impossibly, completely full, the stretch of him in the split position deeper than anything, kissing parts of you that have never been introduced to anyone, and it hurts, the good kind, the kind that lives right next door to more and shares a wall. He opens his eyes and looks at you. Hand still over your mouth. Your eyes are streaming again, fresh tears, and you're shaking underneath him and gripping his arm hard enough to leave marks
"Oops," he says.
You stare at him.
"Should've been more gentle," San says, and his voice is wrecked and his jaw is tight and he is buried to the hilt inside you and he is smiling, just slightly, just the corner of his mouth, the gentle hunk smile, the country club smile, worn by a man who is currently doing the opposite of gentle and is not sorry about it in any capacity.
You bite his palm.
He tips his hips forward just slightly and you make a muffled sound against his hand and stop biting. "There," he says, soft, fond, wrecked, his forehead dropping toward yours, "there she is." His free hand finds your hip and grips. "Hold on." He starts to move, your breath is knocked out of your lungs.
four.
The view outside his window has always been your favourite. Overlooking a park near University and slightly covered by a tree, right now the view is indifferent to whatever just happened as the sunlight seeps through. San’s sun-kissed skin looks more golden as he's thrusting on top of you, courtesy of the warm ball of fire thousands of kilometres away. He starts slow. That's almost kind of him. Deep and rolling, the split position is already devastating on its own, and you're trying to breathe through it, trying to find the rhythm, your hands in the sheets and your eyes at the ceiling and your whole body doing the recalibration it needs to do when someone is that deep. Then he makes a sound. Low and involuntary. And stops being slow.
"Fuck—"
He shifts. One fluid motion, hoisting himself upright from braced over you to sitting, changing the entire geometry of it, your leg still up, perpendicular, his hands finding purchase, and the new angle makes the world tilt and you make a sound that isn't a word because he's deeper, somehow deeper than before, deeper than you thought the position allowed. He looks down at your stomach.
Goes very still for exactly one second.
"San—"
He presses his right hand flat against your lower abdomen. Palm down. Feeling. And then his hips pull back and drive forward and his hand feels it and his jaw drops open slightly and he makes the most wrecked sound you have heard from him all afternoon
"Oh," he says, soft and devastated, "oh that's—"
His hips snap forward again and he watches his own hand, watches the slight shift beneath it, and his expression does something that has no business being as attractive as it is, dark eyes wide and jaw loose and chest heaving and he looks like someone who has just made a discovery he wasn't prepared for and intends to repeat the experiment indefinitely. The tears come back immediately. Different this time, not from the throat, not from the fingers, just from the sheer overwhelming fullness of him at this angle, kissing your cervix on every stroke, his right hand pressing down and feeling himself move inside you and his left hand finding your face. Not covering your mouth this time. Just cupping your cheek. Tilting your face up toward his. Catching the tears with his thumb while his hips work into you rough and relentless and his right hand stays pressed flat on your stomach watching.
You cry into his palm and he lets you.
"Look at that," he breathes, eyes still down, hips snapping forward, you feel the bulge shift under his hand and sob "look at—" another thrust, "you're taking all of me—" his voice cracks on it "feel that?" You feel it. You feel it everywhere. You feel it in your spine and behind your eyes and in the specific place where coherent thought used to live. "San, San it's too much!"
"It's not," he says, and his left thumb wipes your cheek gently while his right hand presses down firmly on the next thrust and you cry out and your back arches and your hands scrabble for something to hold onto and find his knee, grip it hard and he looks at your hand on his knee and then back at your face and something in his expression cracks clean open Fond. Devastatingly, helplessly fond. Underneath all the rough and the jaw and the right hand monitoring the bulge like a researcher who has found his life's work. just fond. "Doing so well," he says, quiet, almost to himself, hips rolling forward deep and slow for just a moment, giving you a breath, his left hand stroking your cheek while his right hand just rests, warm and present "taking it so well, dove."
You make a sound against his palm that has no dignity left in it whatsoever. "Yeah," San says softly, and his hips snap back to rough, and his right hand presses down, and he watches with those dark wrecked eyes as the evidence of him moves beneath his palm and his head tips back for just a second, jaw tight, the sight of it doing something to him that three weeks of thursdays have clearly been building to. "Mine," he says, at the ceiling, rough and quiet and certain, his right hand pressing down and his left hand cradling your face while you cry and take it.
The university park is outside the window. The psych notes are on the floor. Your underwear is somewhere near the desk. and you are never going to be able to sit in that plush chair again without thinking about how your psychology tutor rearranged your guts on this very date.
"No more," you're saying, and you mean it, you think you mean it, "please San, I can't no more" He tips you into missionary like he's rearranging pillows. One hand on your hip, one on your thigh, and you go over easy because your body has stopped taking instructions from your mouth, which he knows, which is maybe why he doesn't answer you just settles between your thighs and looks down at you, wrecked and tear-streaked and shaking, and his chest is heaving and his hair is destroyed and his polo shirt is somewhere on the floor and he looks unhinged, is the thing, the composed patient tutor has left the building entirely and what's left is this jaw tight, eyes dark, breathing rough, a man who has completely lost the plot and is not looking for it.
"San please I'm serious" your whines fall deaf on his ears. He pushes back in. The sound you make rolls up from somewhere deep and involuntary and your eyes go wide and your hands fly to his chest and he catches your wrists, pins them above your head in one hand, and bottoms out and stays there, fully seated, looking down at your stomach. He goes very still.
His free hand moves to your lower abdomen. Presses flat. Slow. Deliberate. Feeling.
He pulls back slightly and pushes in and watches his hand and the sound he makes is not sane. "Shit" low and wrecked and wondering, "shit, I'm—" he thrusts again and his hand feels it and his jaw drops "I'm in so deep, baby"
You're drooling. You realize this distantly. The position and the crying and the overwhelming fullness and his hand on your stomach has shorted something out and your mouth is just open, tears and spit, every refined thing about you completely dissolved, you are drooling on your own chin and your eyes are doing the thing where they're not focusing on anything in particular and you can't bring them back.
He looks at your face and laughs. Not a mean laugh, or not only a mean laugh. It's genuine, delighted, slightly unhinged, the laugh of a man who got a 95 in psychology and spent three weeks being patient and is now watching his carefully maintained study partner drool on herself on his mattress and finding it the funniest most devastating thing he's ever seen.
"Look at you," he breathes, still laughing, jaw tight and eyes crinkling and nothing about this is composed anymore "look at your face" he thrusts rough and watches your eyes roll and laughs again, softer, rougher, the laugh turning into something else at the edges. "where'd your mouth go, dove, hm?" Another thrust. "All that attitude" thrust "three weeks of that smart mouth". His hand presses down on the bulge. You drool more. Your eyes go completely. "Pathetic," he says, and he sounds fond about it, devastatingly fond, like pathetic is the best thing he's ever seen, his hand covers your mouth now, palm flat, catching the drool and the muffled broken sounds you're making and he feels you against his palm, every sob, every whine, every attempt at please and no more that has no real weight behind it.
He presses down on your stomach with his other hand and thrusts hard and watches the bulge move under his palm and his laugh dies into something low and reverent and barely human. "Fuck," he breathes, "fuck, that's—" pressing down, thrusting in, watching his jaw is working like he's biting down on something, teeth catching his lower lip, the expression of a man doing long division to stay functional. "so deep inside you baby, you feel that?"
You feel it. Your eyes are somewhere in the back of your head. You are drooling into his palm and making sounds that would embarrass you if embarrassment was something you still had access to.
"Ruined," he says, rough and laughing and wrecked, his hips snapping forward and his hand pressing down, watching your stomach, watching your face, watching your rolled eyes and your open mouth and the complete and total wreckage of the girl who showed up at his door with her short skirt, tiktok videos and her smart mouth every thursday.
"I ruined you." Not a question. Just awed. Delighted. Then he laughs again, quieter now, the mad fond laugh of someone who didn't expect this to happen and cannot believe it has. "three weeks and I completely ruined you" He presses down hard on the bulge and holds and drives in and your muffled scream goes into his palm and he watches your eyes roll back with the expression of a man who has won something and intends to collect. "Smart girl," he murmurs, soft, his thumb stroking your cheek even now, even through all of it, the gentleness underneath the rough that has always been there "my smart girl, where'd she go, hm?"
You’re gone. completely gone. drooling into his hand on a Thursday afternoon with psych notes on the floor and definitely not coming back for a while. San laughs again, low and quiet and completely mad about it. "There she is," he says. Another laughter rip from his chest, cold and unforgiving but still has the undertones of the sweet and patient San you know.
You have a feeling that this will go on till the golden hour passes and the evening hues taken on the room, and you’re proven correct as San turns you over. You let out a yelp of disagreement, but it is quickly muffled by a pillow. You could feel his looming presence behind you as he prepares himself again.
you kind of wished he had never found out about it. not really, but now it certainly seems he likes to use it as leverage against you.
your boyfriend was gentle in all the ways that count. soft touches that made you feel like precious art. sweet words of encouragement that made you feel seen. but sometimes you feel like he might be too gentle with you.
the only times he ever let that soft-handed mask down were when he was fucking you.
and the first time he ever found out about your little infatuation, he seemed to have grown a little more comfortable with roughing it up a little.
“oh god… oh baby. fuck, you feel so good.” on your stomach, face pressed into the sheets, san’s face nudged in the tight space where your neck meets your shoulder. his arms caged either side of your head, resting his forearms next to your ears.
his chest was glued to your back, your spine digging into his stomach. bare and hot and wet, your bodies pressed against each other without an inch of space to speak for. your entire body shivered when he forced himself deeper into you, his curved, thick cock splitting your cunt open.
this position had him so deep, so invasive, so full. his hips rolled against the flesh of your ass, san’s voice dipping low in needy moans when you squeezed around him while he pulled his hips back, listening to the slick sound your pussy made, trying to keep him inside.
“pussy’s so warm today, baby.” he lets his mouth fall open against the shell of your ear, panting and groaning to make your brain melt. “making me feel so fucking crazy, you make me feel crazy, pretty.”
you forced your head out of the pillow when you felt his thrusts slow to a deep grind, pulling a ragged whine from your mouth. you pried your eyes open to watch as his arms moved around your head.
“turn, look at us.” he kisses below your ear, and drags his tongue up the side of your cheek. his right arm reaches and grabs his phone from the corner of the bed, holding it tight in his hand and scrolling and pressing buttons.
you forget he keeps a tall mirror against his bedroom wall, right next to the end of his bed. you can see the top halves of your melded bodies. his big, broad shoulders shadow your littler form under him. his soft, flushed face meeting your eyes in the reflection, his big, meaty arms flexing and twitching around your head every time he moved.
you watch to try and see what he was doing, and he punishes your nosiness with a sharp, deep thrust that makes your calf lock up.
“mind your business, babydoll.” he grumbles, then you feel it. his left arm curls around the front of your throat, tight. the muscles twitch and contract over your neck, just enough to limit your breathing. snug, warm and secure around the front of your throat.
he feels you tighten around his cock, and it makes his skin prickle. “ooh, fuck…” he groans and you feel his voice vibrate against your back. you forced your eyes up and you can see his phone recording your reflection in the mirror. catching the fucked out look on your face, his thick arm wrapped around your throat in an owning headlock.
his mouth spreads into a sly grin when your eyes roll when he pulls back his hips and then sinks his cock back into you so slowly, so smoothly, your legs jerk under him to try and escape the feeling.
“my soft little slut…” san leans down to whisper in your ear, the flash of his camera moving with each thrust. he licks the tears that pool at the corner of your eyes before he drags his head back up to watch you both in the mirror.
“look at you go, baby.” he praises around a heated smile. “drooling all over my arm like some kind of puppy. does that feel good? hm?”
you whimper out an incoherent agreement, and he giggles softly, littering the nape of your neck with soft kisses. he adjusts his hips to drag against that deeper, sweeter spot, that makes you still and lightly sink your teeth into his arm.
he keeps that meaner pace, deep heavy strokes in your guts that you can do nothing but lie under his body and take. his arm around your neck made clouds swim around in your brain. he tightens the hold, and you squeal loudly, barely catching the way he zooms in with his phone to better catch the pretty look on your face.
your cheeks squished by his muscles, your eyes desperate and heavy-lidded. he thought you looked so cute, and who would’ve thought that all he had to do to get you this needy was to put you in a headlock.
san fucks you greedily, the curve of him perfectly hitting that spot that turned your mind off. his voice egged you on, his low moans, and his pretty heavy breaths. groaning ’mhms’ of approval with every thrust into you as if he was grading the feel of your cunt around him. with every stroke, you only seemed to get even wetter, and the proof was the sticky web of your slick that clung to his base.
“mm, i love fucking my baby, slow… and stupid.” he attaches his lips to the pulse point on your neck, sucking and running his tongue over the sensitive spot of skin. “jus wanna fuck you so deep it hurts.”
he’s in your ear, talking to you and only you. all the while his phone catches every moment, every thrust and every moan.
his lower stomach repeatedly brushes against your back, his cock stirring up your insides at the most, torturous and delicate pace. the slow smack of flesh, the sticky hollow sound of your cunt swallowing all of him.
you feel his knees brace against either side of your hips again, adjusting his posture a little. his arm around your throat tightens to your near limit, his head nudges against your neck, his lips whispering against your cheek.
this way he uses your neck as leverage to anchor is body to allow him to fuck his cock into you a little faster, a little rougher.
“yeah, baby, yeah. take all of me. all of me.” san’s voice drops into a breathy purr, pressing his lips directly against your ear, the soft skin tickling you. “givin this pussy a workout hm?”
you groan and kick your feet, and he laughs at you as hand from the arm he’s got your neck trapped in buries itself in your tangled hair and yanks your head to the side so you’re fully facing the mirror, your ear resting below his jaw.
“you like to be lazy. you like to lie here— fuck… lie here and take dick, helpless and limp. let sannie do all the work huh, princess? let this pussy do all the work for you?”
he turns his head and your eyes catch in the mirror. his eyes are lidded, competent and heated. yours are foggy, tear-glazed, spent. he smiles at your expression and growls under his breath when you clench around his dick again.
his fingers scrape against your scalp with every heavy stroke of his hips, his pretty grunts and moans making your belly twist into swirls.
your hands grasp at the sheets, your cries coming out choked and breathy then more san fucked you, and he seemingly forgot that you needed to breathe until you tapped on his bicep to tell him to let up.
he does immediately, loosening the hold on your throat. you gasp and choke, but he doesn’t stop moving his hips, fucking you slow and deep while you regain your breath.
“aww, ‘m sorry babydoll.” he kisses your temple and you could feel him giggle against your skin. his voice lowers to that brain ticking whisper and you feel your air stolen from you again.
“bet you would’ve looked so pretty passed out on my cock.” he finally sets down his phone and takes his now free hand and trails it down your body, running along the side of your waist, his hips never stopping that deep, languid push and pull.
“looking all soft and sleepy.” his hand snakes between your body and the bed and finds your clit with his coarse fingertips. you gasp and squirm under him, your body shaking as a plea for mercy. san only laughs, circling upwards against the sensitive nerves while he splits your pussy open, over and over and over again.
“think i could still make you cum in your sleep princess?” he whispers against your throat and you feel as his arm tightens its hold around your throat once again. you feel the bed start to shake and your cunt start to burn with pleasure as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, filling you long and deep at just the right angle.
“mmhm, soak my cock baby.” he growls under a moan, letting his tongue fall from his mouth and tasting the flushed skin on your throat. “make it smell like you.”
he bites his bottom lip and his eyebrows furrow, his cock pounding into you so full he just might had been close to fucking your cervix.
his fingers on your clit continue to move at that dragging, spherical pattern that helps that pressure build slowly. stroke my stroke, praise by praise. you melt under his body while he uses you as he sees fit. your pussy sucks him in everytime he draws back, your pretty little moans make san’s head spin.
“gonna fuck myself to that video everynight while im on tour.” he promises against your skin, your orgasm dangerously close to sweeping you onto the floor. he rolls his hips with every thrust, forcing his fat tip to press against your gspot.
“eee..every n-night..?” you whimper deliriously, his cock effectively having cut off all cognitive function, a stupid smile spread across your face.
he laughs and kisses your shoulder as he rolls his hips a little harder. “mhm, every night baby. i'll send you some videos so this pussy-” he thrusts hard this time, as if acknowledging her himself. “-doesn't miss me too much. want you to remember how good i make you feel while i'm gone.”
you shake violently when his tip nudges that spot just right, and right at that moment you cum on the spot. your limbs jerk and twitch and once san’s felt you cumming he eases his hips into a faster rut, pounding your pussy through your orgasm, fucking you through it.
“there we go, there we go. let it take you baby, keep cumming, keep cumming for me.” he pinches your clit and teases it with gentle brushes while he mounts you on his mattress.
his arm is covered in your drool, the red indentations of your bite marks inflamed on his skin. san looks back at you in the mirror, and you’re too out of it to notice as he pulls out his phone again and starts to record the reflection.
your eyes are shut and your brows are furrowed in bliss, lips parted in pathetic whines, your cheek resting against his bicep. he keeps his eyes on the mirror as your face twists in overstimulation when he starts to grind his cock deep into you.
his muscles flex, and he can feel the strain in his wrist from continually holding the camera up to capture you two. your shoulder twitches every time he bottoms out into your pussy, and your eyelids flutter every time he presses his palm against your lower stomach. he catches every change in expression, every twitch of your body, every lilt in your moans.
he always misses you so bad when hes away, so he always makes sure he fucks you so unbelievably well that you could probably do without him for at least a few days.
until you’re sore, or your stomach burns, or you physically can’t cum anymore. and he’ll be so methodic, so thorough, so gentle. anything to get you satiated for the first few days in his absence.
he's gotta work you out of his system somehow anyway, or else he'll be a horny, delirious wreck on tour.
thinking about san hearing wooyoung and his girlfriend every single time she comes over...
tws: established relationship (wooyoung x f!reader), dirty talk, p in v, raw sex, praising, nicknames (baby, babe, sannie), voyeurism (???), cursing.
author's note: I've having this in my drafts FOREVER and I finally managed to finish it yayy!!! english is NOT my first language, MDNI, have fun reading this :3 AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART 2 (o≧▽≦)ﾉ
word count: 1328
masterlist
San has been over this shit since the first time Wooyoung told him that his girlfriend was spending the night. And he didn’t have a problem with it, he still doesn't because he likes you, and you guys actually get along pretty well. But when the night arrives, he literally can hear everything, and when i say everything is fucking everything.
The first time, San just put on his headphones, and that… helped, until it didn't.
How can someone be so fucking loud while trying to not be?!
He swore he heard all of the times Wooyoung told you to stay quiet, how his roommate told you that HE might hear you, how that little fucker even had the nerve to say:
“You just want Sannie to hear you, don't you? You want him to know how loud you are while I fuck you?”
And today it was just another day, another day where you were coming over… and where he was definitely going to hear you both again.
San was in his room, playing with his phone, not doing much really, until he heard a moan, “here we go again…” he thought as one of his hands reached out automatically, looking for his headphones, which usually were in his nightstand, but then he remembered.
Wooyoung had borrowed his headphones…
Perfect! Absolutely perfect!
San groaned, tossing his phone to the side as he ran both of his hands over his face, looking up at the ceiling as he heard the first noises coming from the other side of the wall, which he shared with Wooyoung's room.
“Look at you, baby, riding me so eagerly, you've been craving it, haven't you?” San managed to hear Wooyoung’s voice, it was raspy, almost a whisper, but he still heard him.
And he also managed to hear your response. “Shut up. San might… hear us.”
Might? He was already hearing both of you right now.
“It's a bit hot, though. Don't you think so?” That catched San's attention, he even sat up, pressing his ear against the wall to hear the conversation more clearly.
“What do you mean?” Wooyoung chuckled at your question, his hands ran over your thighs as you slowed your movements.
“Just think about it, babe. Our little Sannie hearing us… I bet he already heard us, you're very fucking loud.”
San heard how you hit Wooyoung,—his chest—followed by his laugh.
“You even clenched around me. The idea turns you on, doesn't it?” He teased you, giving you that stupid smug smile as he leaned closer to you.
“You're just a fucking pervert.” You replied as your hands came up to rest on your boyfriend's shoulders.
Wooyoung gasped dramatically, as if he was truly offended by your words before he switched your positions, pinning you against the mattress, his hands resting on each side of your head. “And so are you.” He leaned in, capturing your lips into a slow and sensual kiss as he began to roll his hips against yours, just as slowly as the kiss. Your moans were swallowed by his lips before a gasp escaped from your lips when one of his hands went to the back of one of your thighs, pressing it against your chest, allowing himself to go deeper inside of you while he picked up the pace, making you moan louder. Wooyoung broke the kiss, just to press his free hand over your mouth to prevent you from being too loud.
"Stay quiet, baby. We don't want Sannie to wake up, do we? Or maybe you want him to hear how good i'm fucking you? mhn?”
That.
That was fucking IT.
Now you were the ones who were going to listen to him. San jumped out of bed, opened the door, and went straight to the next room. Just as he'd mustered the courage to tell you both to shut the fuck up or at least wait until he wasn't in the apartment to do your... things, he noticed the door was ajar, and his breath caught in his throat. The view was... good, I mean, it didn't bother him... at least not that much. You looked so beautiful, holding Wooyoung's forearms as he watched how he whispered things in your ear that made you blush.
"You're so cute when you blush, makes me wanna fuck you harder."
Every word that came out of Wooyoung's mouth seemed dirtier than the last, and San found himself frozen there, staring at you all in the darkness of the hallway like a damn pervert.
"You like it when I talk dirty to you, don't you? you're squeezing me so tight… you want me to fill you up again? You're so filthy, baby, always wanting more and more."
San heard you giggle against your boyfriend's hand, followed by a light slap on Wonyoung's cheek before you grabbed his chin with one hand, and removed his hand from covering your mouth with the other, crashing your lips against his.
He watched how his best friend changed the angle of his thrusts, making your brows arch as your mouth stayed in agape, your lips brushed against his before you bit his lower lip, seeing how Wooyoung smiled at that before his tongue ran over your lower lip in return.
“Feels good, doesn't it?” His lips brushed against yours as he spoke.
“You know it does.”
That cocky expression he made at your answer only made you pinch one of his nipples, to which he whined, laughing before his hands went down to grab your ass, giving it a squeeze.
“Very rude.” He replied between playful and raspy laughs as his hands slid from your ass to your hips, making you gasp since he had lifted your hips up to have a better angle. Your toes curled as you threw your head back, one of your hands covered your mouth while your eyes rolled in nothing but pleasure as his tip brushed against that sensitive spot inside of you that made you weak.
San's breath hitched, and he gulped, taking a step back unconsciously, feeling how his sweatpants were suddenly tighter than before. All the courage he'd mustered vanished when he looked down, noticing he'd gotten a fucking boner by watching his best friend and his girlfriend fuck. It was one thing to hear them, but quite another to literally see them doing it…
He took another step back, and this time his back hit the wall, causing the clock hanging there to fall. After the impact, silence, pure and deathly silence, followed by soft footsteps and the rustling of fabric. San froze completely, his face almost white. He didn't know whether to run, hide, stand there, scream, or stay silent. Only the light from the room in front of him suddenly hitting his face brought him back to reality. It was Wooyoung, his hair disheveled, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his shorts on backward.
"Hey, everything alright here?" He asked as he leaned against the doorframe and closed the door behind him to cover anything that his friend might see inside—a bit late for that.
“Yeah… I just tripped.” San swallowed a bit too hard, and that made Wooyoung raise an eyebrow before he let out an amused laugh.
“You sure? You seem a bit… pale.” Wooyoung was clearly teasing San, and he was clearly not having it.
“I tripped, okay? And can you guys keep it down? I'm trying to sleep.”
Wooyoung's smile only grew wider as his gaze roamed over San's entire body, stopping at where his friend had put his hands to cover himself—he was so obvious, it was almost endearing.
“Sure, no problem at all.” Wonyoung chuckled, waving a hand to San as his free hand opened the door, and before he closed it, he gave him one last smile. “Just knock next time if you wanna see more clearly, yeah?” Followed by a wink.
