Hello, welcome to my master list. Feel free to browse around or submit a request!
I plan to eventually write for more than just Marvel but alas that is what has my attention lol
Angst -đ„Č
Fluff-âïž
Smut- đ
ATEEZ
Yunho
Don't Want a Hero: đ
After breaking up with your ex, Yunho makes you an offer to help. However, you only think of him as a golden retriever, your sweet best friend who would be too vanilla to actually help you. That is until....
Warnings: kinda mean dom!Yunho, sub!Reader, unprotected P in V, breast play, rough sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, creampie, choking, big dick!Yunho, dirty talk, degradation (reader is called slut), praise kink
Multiple Partners
Pulling Strings: đ
Bf!Mingi x Reader x Yunho x Wooyoung
Sometimes while dating Mingi it felt as though you had a second boyfriend that neither of you fully acknowledged, his best friend, Yunho. The tension between the three of you builds until even Wooyoung senses it. Wooyoung wants to help push the three of you together and maybe get some fun out of the deal.
Marvel
Bob Reynolds
Welcome Home: đ„Č
Bob had started to sleep in your room after a bad nightmare. What he wasnât aware of was that you had met the Void and continued to meet him. One night that changesâŠ
Warnings: The Void (I feel like heâs a warning on his own), name calling/degrading.
The Sun to my Moon: đđ„Č
After delayed on missions, you just want to go back. You miss everyone but you really miss Bob, as your relationship is evolving.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! unprotected P in V, Oral m receiving, little possessiveness kink ig?, breastplay
Johnny Storm
Experiment 1: đ
Sue wants you to run an experiment on Johnny just to see what he would do if you ignored him for an hour. The catch? He doesnât know about it
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! unprotected P in V, rough[if you squint, little slap but thatâs it], breastplay, oral F receiving
Not Another One: đđ„Čâïž
The Baxter Building had seen a handful of interns come and go for Reed in the years since Franklin had been born. Reed believes that you may just be the next to go on the list, but Sue thinks it may be different this time. When an accident happens in the lab, Johnny may prove to not only Reed but you as well that youâre not just another intern to him.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! protected P in V, soft, breastplay
Summary: You never believed in the stories you've heard about ancient beings that lived among humans, but after running away and finding solace in a small town far from where you came, you found yourself working for one of said beings, that proved day after day to be better than any human you've encountered.
Pairing: Vampire!Jongho x fem!reader
Word count: ~11k
Content Warnings: porn with plot, fluff, angst with comfort, Jongho is a man in this, mentions of toxic past relationships, mention of mental and physical abuse and manipulation (not by Jongho), mentions of blood, brief mention of killing (?), mentions of alcohol consumption and eating, boss-employee relationship boundaries being overstepped, making out, oral (reader receiving), unprotected piv (do not), creampie, biting, drinking blood, multiple orgasms (if I forget anything pls lmk)
a/n: I've been obsessed with baby boy Jongho for a while and the draft for vampire!jongho was gathering dust on my files bc i just couldn't set the tone right, but then the concept pictures fot gh4 came out and I saw that picture of him looking all hot and sexy in the armchair it was like a light bulb turned on in my brain. So yeah⊠enjoy :)
â ïž english is not my first language so I apologize if there's any mistake
â ïž this is a piece of fiction, in any way or form I intend to say that the people portrayed in the story act this way.
â ïž as a writer (and artist and designer as well) I do condone the use of AI for creative work, therefore, I DO NOT use AI, nor consent to the use of my work for feeding machines.
â ïž Do NOT repost my work
Working for a vampire wasn't on your bingo card, yet you found yourself sitting right in front of the incredibly intimidating man. He scanned your resume over and over as if the piece of paper would tell him a secret only he could hear.
"You know what you are applying for, right?" Mr Choi asked you, his voice resonating within the office. His eyes, a deep dark shade of red, watched you intensely and you wondered if he could read your mind.
You nodded, fixing your posture to be even straighter. "You need a personal assistant, someone to take care of your business while you take care of, well, your business" you chuckled lowly at your choice of words.
He nodded slowly, eyes still glued to yours and you tried to focus on the crease between his brows so you didn't have to look directly at his orbs, the intense gaze making you want to fold yourself into a cocoon.
Choi Jongho was a known man in your town. Not just for his business, but also for his philanthropy.
Living for so long in the same town has granted him some vision of past, present and future. What worked and what didn't. So he, along with a group of other vampires of the town, formed a board to help the city hall into best develop the place decades ago.
The idea not only worked but also turned your city into a model for your state and country, that exported the model for many places.
Through the years, Mr Choi also helped build hospitals, schools, take different types of business and factories to the city which led to the creation of many new jobs for the population.
He did all of that to help the town that welcomed him, and the others of his kind, and allowed them to grow there over the centuries.
Well, grow in the figurative sense of the word.
He hummed lowly as he finally moved his attention away from your eyes and all the air you were holding without knowing left your lungs. "I do have some more interviews to do, miss yn, even thought I am impressed by your resume" you smiled genuinely and nodded. "Mind me if I ask you why are you applying for this job when you have such a impressive resume?" You chuckled and lowered your head.
"Turns out companies don't seem to be looking at resumes or competence anymore" your voice was a little tired, remembering all the interviews and admission processes you've been through in the past two or three years. "If you don't have anyone to push you a little further, to talk with their friends about you, there's not much you can do. And to be very honest with you, Mr Choi, my current job doesn't pay me well, and your salary offer is quite attractive" the man chuckled, a tiny smile forming in the corner of his mouth.
"I like your honesty, miss yn, that is a virtue I admire and look for in an assistant" you bowed thanking for his compliment. "As I said prior, I have other candidates to interview, but I'll let you know your results as soon as I finish the process" he got up from his chair and you mimicked him.
"Thank you for your time, sir. I'm looking forward to hear more of you" you bowed profoundly to show respect and left the office.
As soon as you arrived home, that was conveniently close to the man's office, you threw yourself on the bed, clothes and all, utterly tired and drained from anxiety. Soon, your eyes fluttered closed and you drifted asleep.
»»ââââ-ăâăââââ-««
The clicking of your heels echoed on the hardwood floors as you followed the man. He wasn't much taller than you but his aura was enough to make you fell much smaller.
He was always dressed impeccably, his tailored suits fitting perfectly on his body and giving him this clean and elegant cut. His shoes always dark and polished as if they just left the box and it wouldn't shock you if they actually did. His hair always perfectly gelled in place, a few strands on top of his forehead, his red eyes always deep and observant.
When you received the email that you were the chosen one to be his personal assistant you beamed in happiness. Not only to leave your terrible job but to earn a good amount of money to be able to take care of yourself properly.
Right now, you were following your soon-to-be new boss inside his house, the place smaller and cozier than you expected. Your curious eyes wandered quickly from side to side looking at what they could as you walked behind the man.
Jongho led you to his office, the place much cozier than the one where you had your interview. This one resembled more of a library than a office, his desk made out of a dark polished wood, the heartwood marks being visible. Behind it laid a beautiful chair made out purple-dyed leather. And on the wall behind it there were shelves stacked with dozens, hundreds of books. You wondered how many of those were from other century.
The man noticed your admired face and smiled, he was certain he did the right choice picking you. Ever since the first time you step feet inside his office the day of the interview with your posture held high and the willingness and eagerness of someone wanting to do something of their life he knew you were the one.
Of course he did a background check on you, as well as every other candidate, and your life story made his dead heart shrink. He was the one called a beast yet it was the humans that made you hurt. No wonder you were stuck in this small town hid on the map looking for simple jobs when you had such an impressive resume in your hands. Anywhere bigger and you could be in danger.
He sat on his chair and motioned for you to take a sit in front of him. You did so.
"So, miss yn, thank you for accepting to being my PA" you bowed slightly holding a gentle and professional smile. He pulled out a folder with a few papers on it "this is the employment contract, feel free to read and even take to a lawyer if you feel like" he slid the folder to you. "If something is not to your liking we can always discuss and see how we can adjust to best fit both of us".
You grabbed the contract and started to read. It was a lot, really, many pages of words you honestly didn't understand. But you were smarter than just sign something without reading.
"You can take home if you want, miss yn" Jongho spoke as he watched your eyes run from side to side trying to read the words fast. "As you will read, that are a few clauses that are very important for the functioning and progress of our partnership" you nodded, motioning to him that you were listening while still reading the contract. "First thing is that you'll have a trial period of a month to see how well we will work together" you nodded again, this time turning your full attention to the man. He smiled and hummed lowly. "Next is that you will be moving in with me to this house, we need to be together from the moment I wake up to when I go to bed, I know it sounds a little bit too much "he added when he saw your widened eyes, "but when you start working you'll understand what I'm talking about" you nodded once again, this time slower, the news getting you by surprise. "Another thing you need to know that is that even if I don't eat everyday, every once in a while a voluntary blood doll will come for me to feed. I know everything is very new to you since my kind don't tend to be in big cities, but now that you'll work for me you will have to deal with my feeding appointments" he explained as if it was the most common thing in the world, as if you were going to hire a professional chef to make his meals.
A small yet heavy silence fell on the room. As he expected. Jongho knew it was a lot for you to take and he decided to just dump all the most important clauses to you right in the beginning. It was better this way, not only he could access your facial expressions and read you but also to avoid further bigger shocks at home.
Your gaze switched from him to the books behind him, still too afraid to look too deeply and for too long into his red ones. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you applied for this job, yet reality was different than imagination. It always was.
"Do you have any further questions, miss yn?" He broke the silence and the trance you put yourself into.
You shook your head and cleared your throat "Not for now, sir. I'll read the contract and let you know if anything by tomorrow max" you replied and he hummed, back relaxing on the backrest of his chair, hands folded in his lap.
"Well, that's all for today, miss yn, if there's nothing else, you're dismissed" you lifted from the chair and bowed.
"Thank you one more time for the trust, Mr. Choi" you said and with his dismissive nod you left the room.
Before going home, you decided to pass in your favorite bakery and grab some pastries and baked goodies for you to eat while reading the contract.
"Oh wow yn" the old lady that ran the place chimed as you entered, "I've never seen you so dressed up. What's the occasion?"
You smiled and told her about your probable new job. You two engaged in small talk about it and how she was happy that you were finally looking for better jobs and moving on.
Truth was that you grew in an orphanage until you reached legal age and had to leave. You started working so you could afford college and somewhere to live. Life was never easy on you but you managed through it even when sticks and stones were thrown.
During your college years you met a boy, he was sweet, caring, kind. Until he wasn't. He started to make your life a living nightmare. Manipulating you, making you distance yourself from your friends until you were isolated and depended on him for basically anything. He became violent whenever you confronted him.
You feared for your life everyday.
The only way you managed to get rid of him was to leave the town you used to live as soon as you finished your graduation. You left your phone somewhere random because you knew he had a gps on it, grabbed what you could, got on the first bus you could afford with the little money you had and went to wherever the destiny led you.
That's how you ended in this small town filled with ancient creatures that you only heard tales of but never seen in front of you. Genevieve, the owner of the bakery, was the first one to take you in after you told her your story. You slept on the back of the bakery for a couple of months until you found a job and had enough money to rent a small place.
It's been three years since you left everything behind and started it all again. And you didn't regret a single bit.
You left your shoes at the door and sighed at the feeling of finally come down of the heels and put on your soft bear shaped slippers. You moved to the kitchen to serve yourself a cup of wine before diving into reading the pile of papers.
The pastries on the right, wine on the left and the folder in the center. Your body now comfortably hugged by your pajamas.
»»ââââ-ăâăââââ-««
The moving came the week after you signed your contract. Suitcases and boxes of your stuff being moved into the room designated to you in his house. The one on the far left at the second - and last - floor.
You learned that, besides you, his butler Jinho also lived in the house but on the room beside Jongho's one in case he needed anything.
As stated in the contract, he was going to still pay for your rent and bills for the trial month in case it didn't work out and you had to go back home. You promised yourself to do your best and spent the whole week studying about the job and what people on the internet that had that job talked about.
The room you were given was almost as big as your whole apartment, the walls were painted in a light beige color except for the wall behind the bed that was a deep burgundy color that matched the sheets and pillowcases. The furniture was from the same dark polished wood you saw at his office and you couldn't help but run the tip of your fingers through the vanity that was a bit farther from the bed.
You walked to the big window that was covered by a curtain in the same burgundy shade and opened to find that that it was in fact a door that led to a small balcony. You smiled as you opened the glass doors and walked to the railing and watched the beautiful view of the city countryside. Your eyes instinctively closed as you smelled the sweet scent of flowers from the fields ahead of you.
Someone cleared their throat behind you, making your turn to find the perfectly suited butler at the entrance of your room. Your bags and boxes already inside. When had they put it there?
"Welcome to the property, miss yn" his gravely voice rumbled through the room as he bowed. You repeated the gesture as you walked towards the man. "I can see you already discovered your view"
You nodded smiling "it's really pretty looking at the flowers fields from up here, it also feels like I'm smelling into a fabric softener" you chuckled.
"I'm glad is to your liking" he showed no expression. "All your things are here as far as I am aware" you nodded confirming as you recognized everything that you packed. It wasn't much since you didn't have much. "You'll find that Mr Choi already filled your wardrobe with clothes that he felt appropriate for your new work position" you opened the doors as soon as he finished speaking to find many shirts, dress pants, skirts and even heels inside the furniture. "I hope they are to your liking"
"They are, thank you" you closed the wooden doors. "He didn't have to".
"Mr Choi told me you would answer along those lines and asked me to simply say that now you are working for him and you should dress as such, and since it's a requirement that you wear certain clothes it wouldn't be fair for you having to spend from your income to renew your wardrobe"
"So I dressed badly, huh?" You teased yet the man was like a marble statue.
"If that's all, will you excuse me" he said and before he could leave you stopped him.
"I have a question" he nodded once. "Since, well, Mr Choi doesn't eat regular food, will you have to⊠adapt because of me?" For a fraction of a second you could see what was a hint of a twitch in Jinho's lip, almost as if he held himself from smiling and breaking his character.
"Me and other employees here are still humans, miss yn" your mouth formed an O shape. "Don't worry about such frivolous things, we will provide you everything you need as long as you do your job properly" you nodded.
"I'll do my best, sir" you gave a salute to him and he just sighed before leaving the room.
Opening the wardrobe again, you grabbed some of the clothing pieces and analyzed them, their fabric, their stitching, their quality. You wondered how much the vampire had spent on all of those clothes and shoes for you and smiled at the thought of him thinking about what you should wear and sending someone to buy it. Who bought it though? Because the person had a great taste and sense of style.
You started to unpack your things and put them into place. Makeup, brushes, perfume bottles and accessories at the vanity. Books, albums and vinyls at the shelves, as well as some of your favorite decorations that you brought along. You put your old clothes separated from the new ones just in case. Same thing with the shoes. The last thing was deciding where to hang your posters, artworks and pictures but you decided to leave that for later, you still didn't know how much you could decorate the place.
It was already dark outside when you finished organizing everything and putting away the boxes and bags. You were satisfied for now.
You decided to take a shower after finishing, glad that you had your own bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. You grabbed your towel and the clothes you were going to put on and entered the bathroom, not bothering to close the door.
The warm water hit your body like it was dark hot black coffee entering your system in the early morning: soothing, rejuvenating and reliving. Without much thought, you started to hum a song as you washed yourself.
Jongho was coming to personally call you for dinner when he heard you singing in the shower. He chuckled at the way you sang it, the voice cracking often at the high notes. He hoped you were a better assistant that you were as a singer.
"Holy shit!" You cursed as you left the bathroom to find a very casual looking Choi Jongho with his hands in his pockets and an amused smirk on his face. "I'm so sorry, Mr Choi. I didn't know you were there" you bowed deeply as you felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
"I came to invite you for the dinner and was met with a rather⊠unique voice" he teased you and, if possible, your face burned even more. If you were a cartoon you were sure there would be steam coming out of your head. He decided to save you from further embarrassment and stopped the teasing. "Dinner is served at the dining room, you're welcomed to come"
"Thank you, Mr Choi" he nodded and left, but not before singing the same song you were singing before with a voice that you were sure belonged to angels.
You facepalmed from already making a fool out of yourself in front of your boss on the first day.
Putting the shame aside, you quickly brushed your hair and put on your bear slippers before leaving your room to find the dining room.
It wasn't hard to find the place since as soon as you started to approach the first floor you heard clacking of cutlery, talking and some eventual laughs. You walked towards the sound and found the room, that was simple and warming. Just like almost everything in his house. The table was large and had a bunch of people, some of which you recognized as fellow employees, and Jongho was sitting on the end, a glass of what looked like wine in his hand.
Everyone turned their attention to you when you stopped at the door. Silence suddenly hovering the air.
"Welcome miss yn" Taeyang, one of his security guards broke the silence with a gleaming smile.
Everyone followed after him and started to welcome you with words and smiles. You felt shy at the attention at you but thanked everyone's hospitality with bows and smiles, walking to the empty seat between two of the employees you recognized from the day you did your interview.
Soon enough the maids started to bring the food. To say it smelled delicious was just the tip. Your mouth was watering at the smell and the sight of so much food in front of you. Just then, at the view and smell of food, that your stomach rumbled and you realized that it had been since morning that you didn't eat anything significant.
Just when Jongho motioned that everyone started to serve themselves, you following suit.
You didn't know what to grab first, the lamb or the risotto? The salad or the soup? there were so many options that your eyes moved from side to side looking at everything and deciding on what to choose.
After finally deciding on grabbing a little of everything, you settled into eating. The flavors and textures melting on your tongue, an explosion of taste on your tastebuds, something you have never tried before. You closed your eyes and hummed lowly at it, enjoying the dinner.
In his sit at the very end of the table, the man watched everyone but mostly you. Looking to see if you'd get along with everyone, if the food was to your taste, how you'd react to the food he asked to prepare extra special for your welcome dinner. Your smile at every forkful told him everything he needed to know about the subject.
He noticed how you looked cozy and comfortable on the little pajama set you wore, the light green short-sleeved button up had little black cat paws prints all over it, the fabric looked soft even though it looked like you had worn it for quite a while. The short shorts, with matching color and print, rode up on your plush thighs, leaving almost no room for imagination. He caught himself wondering if it they would feel as soft in his hands as they look all spilled on top of the chair where you sat.
He cleared his throat lowly and turned his head around, trying not to stare at you. Not too much at least. But it was especially hard with you laughing so sweetly at something one of his drivers said.
Jongho would be lying to you and himself if he ever told anyone that he didn't find you attractive. Quite the contrary, from the moment he looked at you he knew you were one of the prettiest people he ever laid eyes on. No matter the century. He wished in his dead heart that he'd find someone better than you for the job but no one ever came close to your skill and knowledge.
And he needed someone good, someone to actually help him. So there was no other choice.
During the dinner, every once in a while, you'd notice your boss looking at you but you'd brush away the thought, maybe he was looking at someone else. Or maybe he was just being a good host and making sure his new guest was well adjusted and served.
That was definitely it.
You also noticed that, while you were eating, he had a glass of a liquid that looked like wine. You wondered if it was blood. And if it was, from whom?
You shook the thoughts away as you kept your talk to one of his drivers, Malik, that was sitting next to you. He was a nice and sweet sixty-something years old man, his hair and beard already white from the time. He told you about how he owned his life to the vampire because he helped save his wife and daughter a long time ago. "I had nothing back then" he had told you, "the women of my life dying of a disease that I had never heard of until then, but Mr Choi helped us and I promised I'd pay him back. Even though I already paid my debt, I like working for this thing, he's better than any human I've met" the old man chuckled and you just nodded.
You turned to look at the creature and found him already looking at you, his lips tugging slightly at the corner as he lifted his cup to you.
A shiver ran down your spine. You don't know why.
»»ââââ-ăâăââââ-««
The first two weeks at work were absolute hell. Not because you hated, but because Choi Jongho proved to be one of the busiest man you've ever met. It took you a long time to fall into his rhythm and be able to follow him along.
Now, almost two months into this position you proved not only for yourself, but to Jongho as well, that you were made for this job.
"I made sure to pack all of the essential things you might need for the trip" you spoke as you followed behind your boss at his building. "I made a list of the things I've packed and another for the personal items you might want to get for yourself" you gave him the paper and checked the little box of the task. "Your hotel room, as well as your staff's, are already booked at for four days and three nights at the hotel. The booking is on your name, so you just need to do the check in on time" you sent the man an email that quickly ringed on his phone. "Just sent you your plane tickets for both the going and return" you continued to walk, your head down, until you hit it against a relatively hard wall.
You looked up to see that it was Mr Choi's back since he stopped walking and was now turning to face you.
You'd never get used to this man's beauty, even behind his pale cold skin, dark deep red eyes that were supposed to scare you away, there was still a small sparkle of life.
"You're not coming?" His voice was deep, assertive, yet held a curiosity almost childish. You shook your head no. "How am I supposed to endure this trip without you?"
You chuckled at him. "You'll be fine, Mr Choi, it's not the first business trip you do without me, besides, you can contact me at any time you need" you smiled and held the tablet against your chest.
He shook his head. "This time is different, it's a longer trip and to another country. I need you with me to make sure I make no mistakes, I'm too used to being babysat by you as Jinho says" you laughed a little, he did look like a lost child sometimes. "Please, yn, I need you" the way those words came out of his mouth held something more than just work-related need but you decided to ignore. For your own mental health.
You sighed. Defeated. And nodded. "I'll book another flight and hotel room for me then if that's what you want, sir" he nodded proudly, smiling. He learned how to smile more to you ever since you started working for him. Which you hated to admit that you loved because he had the cutest little gummy smile you had ever seen.
Sometimes you get yourself wondering how was Jongho's life before turning into a vampire. What was he? What did he do? How did he handle the transformation and the hunger at the beginning? The idea of the man hunting and killing people for his survival scared you. Yet, the same idea made you feel almost pitiful of him and his⊠condition. How did he managed to evolve with the world and be able to adapt into the new centuries? The new generations?
Also, you get yourself wondering if he ever had someone. Loved someone. Being immortal comes with the curse of seeing your loved ones get old and die while you're stuck with the same face, the same eternal age that never goes up and never ends.
Sure, you already saw him receiving guests at his house outside the feeding schedule, so he wasn't lonely. But being accompanied doesn't mean being loved.
»»ââââ-ăâăââââ-««
The hotel was way more luxurious than anything you had ever seen. You knew your boss liked comfort and quiet when traveling, but it exceeded your expectations. Also the meeting was happening at the same hotel, so it would be more convenient if you stayed there.
After the check in was done and the cards that opened the doors were distributed, everyone went to their designated ones to rest a little before the first dinner with the investors at night.
Besides you and Mr Choi, there was also three bodyguards along with you. You and your boss had your own separated rooms, while the other men shared another one.
You dropped yourself down the soft bed as soon as you closed the bedroom door. Body and head tired from the travel, you hated to fly. The low hum outside the window of the room slowly matched your heartbeat and soon you were drifting asleep.
You woke up with knocks on your door, not really sure for how long you had slept but from the small pool of drool on the pillow you could tell it was for a while.
Behind the door stood a very casually dressed Jongho, hair down and unstyled, making look even younger with the bangs on his eyes, a set of matching dark blue sweatpants and hoodie and a small box in his hands.
"Hm.. hi, sir, can I help you with anything?" You asked, head still a bit dizzy from the sleep and the flight. "Am I late? I am sorry, I fell asleep as soon as I laid down and I-"
"Don't worry, yn, you're not late" he smiled and you copied his gesture. You motioned for him to enter the room and so he did. "I came because I have a favor to ask" you nodded for him to keep talking. "This dinner tonight is less of a business one and more of a show-off" you tilted your head confused and he sighed, sitting on the bed. "The men I'm making business are not⊠nice. They like to show off their money, their businesses, whatever they can flaunt, they will. But I need their cooperation for this next move, they have real political power, and I need that" you nodded slowly.
"And where do I fit into this?" You asked still not getting what he was trying to tell.
"You see, I'd love to have a beautiful woman by my side since they value this kind of traditional structures like marriage like they value their money"
"And you want me to be your⊠wife?"
"Just for the night. I know it's a lot to ask and I'll understand if you don't want to, I was going to hire someone anyways" he chuckled and looked at the box on his lap before looking at you again. "But I figured that who better to help me on this than someone that not only understands my business but it's an essential part for it to work?"
"Are you trying to flatter me and my work into accepting this?" You joked, crossing your arms over your chest and pulling a soft smile out of the man.
"A little. But only with the truth though!" He rushed to add before you could get it wrong. "Please, I'll even pay extra hours"
"No need to, I'll help because I know how stressed you've been with this trip for the past week, I know how this deal is important for you" he smiled, genuinely. You thought that you had never seen him smile so big before.
"Thank you, yn. Thank you so much" he raised from the bed and handed you the box. "Wear this tonight, please. And be ready at seven"
"You knew that I was gonna accept?" You grabbed the box already knowing what was inside and he smirked at you from the door.
"I had a guess you would" he answered before leaving the room.
You chuckled and shook your head in disbelief. The more you knew about your boss, more he seemed to surprise you.
The velvety box was soft to the touch but sturdy, a sign that it was from some high-end brand you probably never heard of. Opening it you found one of the most beautiful dresses you ever laid your eyes on. The fabric was from a deep purple color and was a soft and cool satin. The bodice was strapless and from a sheer lace that would leave your torso peeking underneath the delicate pattern. The skirt started draping at the height of the hips and fell down until it reached the ground.
You admired the piece, the softness of the silk, the delicate floral pattern of the lace, the almost invisible stitching proving even further that it was a quality and high-end product.
You left the box and the dress on the bed and moved to take a shower, you had to be the most perfect you've ever been to impress the investors and help your boss.
The warm water and the smell of your jasmine body wash helping you relax your nerves. It was an important dinner for Jongho and his business, and as far as you knew, for the city as well. After the shower, you wrapped yourself in the fluffy bathrobe and started to do your hair and makeup. Since the dress was already eye-catching enough, you decided to do a simple soft look, using a bit of shiny eyeshadow to mark your eyes, a light warm blush that matched your complexion and a nude brown lip gloss that made your lips look even plumper. You decided to leave your hair natural and just apply some volume and definition to it.
You admired your reflection on the floor length mirror, the dress was not only gorgeous but it looked like it was made for your body, the fabric hugging your body on all the right places, your curves looking even more enhanced by the shape. The color complemented your complexion so well and it matched perfectly with the heels you were wearing as well as the jewelry you chose to further the look even more.
It was was exactly seven pm when you heard knocks on your door. You opened it to meet a very fancy and well dressed Choi Jongho. He wore a fitted black suit, the pants were plain black, as well as the shirt underneath, the blazer had a golden stitching with a squared pattern and gold buttons. Instead of a tie, the first button of the shirt was open and a gold chain with some details on it hung from under the collar. His perfume invaded your senses, the deep floral and earthy smell enveloping you and dizzying you with his smile.
The man was doing his best to keep his jaw closed. He knew you were pretty, but seeing you all dressed up made his stomach twist and his mouth dry. He was in trouble.
Jongho can't remember the last time he liked someone. That he allowed himself to like someone. Being immortal always made things related to the heart hard for him. He saw so many people he loved to born, to grow and to die. He knows that to love someone is to let them go, but not when he had to see it so many times.
He wasn't always like this, he wasn't born like this, which always made everything worse. He turned on a fateful night hundreds of years ago after leaving a tavern he went to celebrate the crop of the year with his friends. His sister told him not to go, warning about strange and dangerous creatures that lurked in the dark. He shooed her away saying that he was a strong man, he knew how to take care of himself.
Only if he had listened.
That night, after leaving the warm interior of the tavern, a little too drunk of soju and rice wine, he stumbled along the streets of the village until he met a man, a seemingly unsuspecting man. He asked for directions and when Jongho let his guard down and turned to the side to point to the other side that was when he felt, the painful piercing through his skin.
He woke up a few hours later, the sun already rising, the light hitting his skin and the brightness making him stir awake. His body hurt yet felt stronger and he had this hunger that wasn't normal. The young man moved to his house, the few villagers he encountered looked at him startled when he passed by.
When he arrived home his sister was ready to welcome him with slaps and screams of irresponsibility but she stopped on her track when she saw him. Her widened eyes only proved further to Jongho that something had happened. "What's wrong?" He asked, voice hoarse, low, dry, thirsty. He tried to move closer but she took steps back. "Don't come near me!" The woman squeaked. Scared. Why was her scared of him?
He took more steps forward and she took more steps back until she hit her back on the table, her hand landing on a sharp fish knife and cutting her palm. Instantly the metallic smell of blood flew to Jongho's nose and made his stomach rumble and mouth water. The sister started to shake uncontrollably, that's how she'd die.
And then it hit him. Like a hammer on a toe. He had only heard stories about beings half dead half alive that needed human blood to survive. Beings so evil that held no remorse or empathy for the human race, seeing them as nothing but a feast for them to enjoy. The man last night was one of those. And he had become one.
With all the strength he could muster, he turned around and left. He grabbed his horse and ran away to the forest, somewhere where he couldn't be a danger to anyone he loved.
Jongho became pretty good at keeping his promise. For years he only ate criminals, people so evil that he judged that didn't deserve to live. He avoided becoming closer to other people, even other vampires, he was a lone wolf and he preferred like that, this way his heart wouldn't hurt.
But he couldn't live always like this, not when years started to pass slower and even seemed to stop. After a while he met the men that would become his friends, other beings like him. Together, they formed something of a society, a book of rules for the vampires to follow and be incorporated into the society.
It worked, over the years that passed, the living-dead and the humans started more and more to live in peace together. But even then, the man never truly allowed himself to like someone, to fall in love, not even for someone like him. It was easier, more comfortable to be alone. He was used to it after centuries of living.
So the moment he saw you standing in front of him looking like a goddess on earth and he felt something twist inside of his dead body he knew. He knew he was doomed.
"Shall we go?" You asked, smiling shyly, the tiny clutch bag you had being held tightly under your fingers.
Jongho managed to get out of his daydreaming and stepped aside to let you get out and close the door. He offered you his arm and you held it so you could walk to the dinner party.
The said party was being held at the bar in the hotel you were staying at. The place was already full of fancy and well dressed people. Most of them looked way older than you, and at all honesty, than Jongho too even though he was technically hundreds of years old.
As soon as you walked in, a few men came to welcome Jongho and talk about business. You were offered a cup of champagne while your companion was talking to a couple of men something about improvement laws and some things that you couldn't understand.
You were glad that for the most part those people barely acknowledged you by his side, even the other partners that stood quietly by those men's side, except to compliment him on being with someone as pretty as you.
When your boss briefly told you about the nature of those men and how they treated their partners, besides calling themselves traditional and caring about family, they couldn't care less about their wives, seeing them as just an accessory. But you didn't expected it to be like this.
You were standing by your boss' side, champagne now warm on the cup in your hand when a chill ran down your spine as if something sinister passed by you.
"You thought that you could get away from me?" You froze in place, body stiff and shoulders tight. You could recognize that voice anywhere.
You didn't move, as if he was a wild animal that could sense fear and if you stood still he would go away. But unfortunately, to your dismay, he did the exact opposite and stopped right in front of you. Jongho sensed your discomfort and came closer to you.
"Of all the places I've imagined I'd see you again, I've never imagined it would be at a business dinner" his smirk was devilish, you could feel his dark aura emanating from him as if a dark cloud hovered over him. "Why did you ran, dear? We were so happy and I did all my best for you" he touched your face with the back of his hand, sinister smile on his lips.
You shrank into yourself and closed your eyes, hoping that the next time you opened them he would be gone. Jongho saw your discomfort and circled your waist, bringing you closer to his body and moving your ex's hand away from you.
The taller man laughed, that deep, almost evil laugh. "I see that you got yourself a protector. Who is he? Your sugar daddy?" The wicked smile never left his lips as he watched you two. He crossed his arms over his chest "you know that yn left me behind? After all I did for her, after all the love I gave, she still left me with no explanation, no clue. That sweet dear of yours is nothing but a bitch!"
"You're the only bitch in here" You fumed, fear now gone and anger taking over you. People around turned to look at what was happening but you didn't care. "You abused me! You manipulated me into a mess, into your little doll. You made me alone, without anyone else. The only friends I had was the pain and the bruises you've left on my skin!" The whispers around you increased, those people were probably thinking you were a hooligan but you couldn't care less.
You could feel the tears start to run down your face. Your lips quivering in anger. Hands balled up into a fist by your sides, ready to punch him but still afraid.
"You're so ungrateful, yn. Can't you see? All I did was because I loved you" the man snarled back, body towering over you, trying to intimidate.
"What kind of love was that that hurt the person you said to love? What kind of love beats you to the point of leaving you breathless and bruised? Tell me! After all you did to me you have the nerve to say it was because you loved me?" You snorted.
"Of course I loved you! I turned my entire life about you, you were my main priority. We had such a bright future ahead of ourselves, I couldn't let those people you had the guts of calling friends ruin what he had"
"Then you went and ruined yourself?" You shook your head and looked to the ground before looking back at him. "Do you know how hard it was for me? I had nothing left, no friends, no prospect, only fear for my life" he tried to touch your arm but Jongho finally intervened.
The man pulled you back to him and pushed the other's hand away, his fangs making an appearance and hissing at your ex. You never saw your boss angry or feed, so you never had seen him with fangs until that moment. It took you by surprise because sometimes you forget he is the being that he is, only remembering when you look at his eyes and see their red color.
"Are you okay?" He whispered to you and you denied with your head. To be honest you didn't know how you were feeling but you didn't want to stay there any longer. He turned to look at the taller man still in front of him, "if I ever find out you touched your dirty unworthy hands on yn or anyone else I'll make sure you won't touch anything at all" he pulled you to start walking with him back to your room.
"The⊠the partnership" you stuttered between your sobs.
"I don't care about that. If those people had the courage to do that to someone like you, what other things can they do, don't you think?"
You stood quiet while you walked back to your room, his embrace never leaving your waist. Even though he was a cold dead being, the touch still felt warm. Calming. You let yourself be guided by him while your mind was stuck at the feeling of being protected, taken care of.
The last time you felt something similar was when you first moved to town, Genevieve taking care and helping you. It was the first time someone had done something to you. And now, Mr Choi, risked his business to defend you against your ex. What could that cost to him? Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot. You didn't know.
You barely registered when you entered the room and the man guided you to sit on the bed. He knelt and gently took your heels off, caressing softly the skin there, especially where the straps touched and left indents. He proceeded to grab some cotton pads and makeup remover and started to take off the painting from your face. His touch gentle. Caring. Feather-like.
Jongho eyes were fixed on you, watching intently every twitch, every breath, every spot and mark. How your lips, partially open, looked so plump and inviting while you exhaled with shallow breaths.
He, more than never, wanted to protect you. To take care of you. He knew he was crossing a line. But for the first time in decades he felt alive again.
Jongho finished taking off your makeup and, while your eyes were still closed, he brought his hand to your cheek and caressed the soft skin there. You hummed at the touch and smiled slightly, almost invisible, but he could see. He could see everything.
You opened your eyes and locked gazes with him. He swore that, if he still breathed, his would have hitched right then and there. You leaned into his touch and smiled a bit bigger, enjoying his care toward you.
Silence fell and for a while no one said a thing. Just your breath being heard. His hand still on your cheek.
The bed creaked as you lifted yourself up, staying face to face with the man. You looked to his eyes, then to his lips and to his eyes again. Your lips twitched a small smirk before leaning into his.
The kiss was short. Just a touch of lips. Quick. Scared. Afraid.
He looked at your eyes looking for any sign of regret or fear or anything that could stop him from doing what he wanted to do. When he found none, his lips smashed against yours, tightly.
Jongho grabbed your waist with one of his hands and pushed you flush against his chest all while the other one held your face. You were fisting the collar of his suit.
Your mouths kissed as if made for each other, lips opening and closing in a mad dance of passion and need. You whined softly when you felt the hand that was on your waist slide down to your ass and move to your leg. He took advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue inside your mouth. He tasted like fancy champagne and remnants of his minty toothpaste.
The kiss was broken just when you could no longer breathe because you, unlike him, needed oxygen to survive. He touched your foreheads together and intently watched you. His eyes, once red, now looked almost black.
Neither of you said anything. Just watched each other reactions and tried to understand what was happening inside your own heads. You both knew that you had crossed a very defined limit. Boss and employee. Human and vampire. The lines were blurring in your eyes and neither of you wanted to go back to see it clearly.
You finally let go of all your worries, inhibitions, fears and everything else and circled your hands around his neck and kissed him again. He instantly responded to the kiss and brought you back close to him by your waist, arms circling your frame.
The kiss was feverish, quick and desperate. Too many things being said in a clash of tongues.
You wanted each other. Desperately.
His hand on your back moved up until he found the zipper of your dress and slowly pulling it down, opening the garment. The cold air hit your now exposed back making shivers appear on your skin, hairs standing. Jongho moved his kisses to your jaw and neck, licking and sucking the soft skin he met on his way down.
He started to slowly pull your dress down your body, hands caressing wherever they touched and making you suck a breath at the roughness of his skin on you. The fabric pooled at your feet at the same time he knelt in front of you and helped you get away from the piece of clothing.
Jongho looked up at you, eyes dark and hooded with lust and something more. He started to caress and squeeze your supple thighs, leaving soft kisses on the skin.
And them he hummed when he nosed at your clothed core and inhaled your aroused scent, fingers squeezing your hips.
"Lay on the bed for me, darling" he spoke, low, deep, hoarse. You almost moaned at the way he spoke and how he was looking at you. You never felt more desired. "And spread your pretty legs for me. Mhm⊠that's it, pretty" he mused as you did as told, the visible wet patch on your simple cotton panties making the heat crawl up your face. You didn't expect to end up like this so you just wore your regular underwear.
But Jongho couldn't care less about what type of panties you were wearing, either way, he was going to take them off of you. He moved his way from the ground while kissing your thighs, his cold lips a stark contrast against your burning skin. The anticipation making you shiver and wriggle in place.
When he finally arrived at your core, he left a small kiss bellow your navel and just above the waistband of your underwear before pulling them off. You shivered again at the sudden cold wind hitting your wet and warm vulva, exposed for the man to enjoy. Oh and he would enjoy it.
He moved back to between your legs and put your left one on top of his shoulder, making you spread wider and be more exposed for him. He scented you one last time before licking at your core with a flat tongue. You arched from the bed at the contact but also for being so long since someone touched you like that. You bit your lip as he moved his tongue up and down between your folds, lapping at your juices with low hums coming from his throat.
"Don't hold back, let me hear your sweet noises" he murmured between your legs at seeing you were holding yourself from moaning. "I don't care who'll hear us, I want'em to know who's making you feel good" you nodded and moved your hand to hold at his hair.
He went back to his task, now paying attention to your clit. The tip of his tongue drawing circles and the entire alphabet before giving a harsh suck that made you roll your eyes and moan. He smiled and sucked again and again at your nub, his chin glistening with your wetness. You tugged harder at his hair when he gave you an especially hard suck, back arching from the mattress.
"You taste divine, yn" he groaned. "I think I won't be able to get over your taste now that I know how it feels against my tongue" he replaced his mouth on your clit with his thumb, circling the bud with it while his tongue started to prod at your entrance. You don't know if it was you that was sensitive after so long without being touched by someone else or if he really was that good, probably both, but you could feel your high approaching, the knot in your stomach tightening.
"SirâŠ" you moaned as you pulled his hair again. "I'm⊠I'm close" you managed to stutter, low, worn.
"Go on, dear. I have you" he encouraged you, fingers moving faster and harsher against your clit. "Let yourself go for me, let me taste you" you moaned at both his words and his tongue fucking into you.
He was moving faster, harsher, with more intent. You felt it, the wave rising high until it crashed at the shore. You couldn't care if you moaned loud or not, you needed to get that delicious feeling out of your system. Jongho smiled against your core as he drank everything you gave to him. Your taste intoxicating, addictive.
He helped you through your high until it bordered overstimulation. You pushed his head away from you, legs quivering at the intensity. He smiled widely at you, nose, lips and chin shining with your essences. He was on cloud nine.
The man quickly wiped your remains from his face before lowering himself to kiss you again. A clash of tongues and teeth. Need even higher now. His pants incredibly tight in his front.
"Can you take your clothes off now?" You asked sweetly, almost shy, while trying to open the buttons of his suit. He smiled and nodded.
He purposefully took the pieces of clothing slowly, teasing as he watched your blown eyes eat him alive and press your thighs together, low whines leaving past your lips. The man smirked when he took it all off, leaving him in only his gold chain and underwear.
You only ever saw him all dressed up in full suits and thick clothing, the most you saw were his arms when he'd walk around the house in his soft and fancy t-shirts. But he was hiding his gold. His body was absolute perfection, a sculpture you'd see in museums and books. His shoulders wide, big, strong, his arms looking even bigger now with the assembly of the whole view of his body. His chest was as large as his back and his tummy was toned, not like full abs, just little indents of the muscle adorning his soft belly. And his skin, tanned and dripping gold like honey you wanted to taste on your tongue.
You moved from your laid position to kneel on the bed. You were not thinking straight, lust and desire clouding your brain, the only thing visible in the fog was Jongho. He moved closer to you and leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss again. You used the proximity to gently rub his hard on through the soft fabric of his underwear, earning a low growl between the kiss, before you finally pulled the piece down.
If the view of his naked body had impressed you, you weren't expecting for his dick to do it even more. The member sprung free, bouncing up and down slightly and making your mouth water. He wasn't big, but the girth. That was impressive. He was thick and veiny, angry red at the tip that was already leaking precum from only eating you out.
You bit your lower lip and started to gently stroke the appendage, eyes looking up at him, lashes fluttering. He groaned at the sight under him. You, his ever so caring, competent and professional assistant, were stroking his cock while looking at him with the most dirty yet delicate look.
Jongho caressed your hair, your cheeks, until he reached your mouth. His thumb gently rubbed your lower lip until you opened your mouth and let him slide it inside, putting pressure on your tongue with the digit and making you suck it. The whine that left your lips at the act was borderline pornographic.
You kept rubbing his cock up and down, squeezing the base whenever your brain cleared a little and you could remember what you were doing.
It was a symphony of moans and whines between you two but your hands weren't enough, he needed to feel your insides.
The man took his finger from your mouth, making you whine, and turned you around and pushed your chest against the mattress. Your ass sticking in the air while your back arched perfectly. He grabbed his member and started to rub against your core, coating it in your juices, tip hitting your clit at every forward movement.
"Sir⊠please" your moan came stifled from your face being flush against the sheets.
"Since you asked so nicely" he smirked and teased your entrance with his tip.
You opened your mouth in a silent gasp as he started to enter you. Even slowly, you could feel your walls burning to stretch and accommodate his impressive girth inside. Your hands fisted the sheets as he kept pushing the intrusion even further.
"Fuck, yn, you're so tight" he almost whispered the words as he finished bottoming out, his size fully seated inside you.
You could feel all the muscles in your pussy tighten and relax, as if they were blinking against Jongho's dick. He allowed you to get used to his size, caressing the skin in the expanse of your back and sides.
He knew he could move the moment you started to roll your hips against his own. Hands grabbing your hips in a bruising grip before he took a bit of himself out of you before slamming back in, fucking a breath out of you.
Slowly, Jongho found a rhythm until he could pull everything out and put it in again. His thrusts were deep, taking it out slowly before slamming back in with force, each time leaving you more breathless.
The grip in your hips were strong, you were sure he'd leave purple marks from holding them with his inhumane force but, at that moment, you couldn't care less. All you could think about was his tip hitting all the right spots inside of you and his girth stretching you and probably ruining you for anyone else.
You could feel the coil in your stomach starting to build again, making your moans louder and more desperate. He also sensed by the way your walls were gripping him even tighter. He leaned down so he could circle his arm around you and his fingers play with your abused and puffy clit.
"Ngh-sir!" You almost screamed at the overwhelming sensation, legs shaking against his ones.
"Go on, dear. Cum on me" he moaned against your ear, index and middle finger never stopping their movements on your clit. "Let me feel around me how good I'm making you feel" you moaned again, back arching even further down the mattress before you came. Your gummy inside gripping the man like a vice, juices dripping down your thigh as a white-ish ring formed around his base. "Good girl" he moaned against your ear and you fluttered around his cock again, sensitivity making you dumb but you wouldn't ask him to stop. You couldn't.
He kept fucking you even after your orgasm, not calming nor slowing down, he actually started to move faster, plunging into your pussy with renewed focus and strength.
Your body fell limp on the bed, you couldn't hold your own weight anymore, the only thing keeping you up was his bruising grip on your hips. He noticed the change in your body and stopped his movements. He removed himself from you, earning a soft and needy whine, before laying your back on the bed.
Now you could see him, his blown and glassy eyes that once were red, now black with a hint of gold. His sweaty torso looking even more delicious than before and if you weren't already so spent you'd lift yourself to lick the sweat out of his chest. His lips red and swollen and his vampire fangs out and visible. You couldn't help but clench around nothing at the view in front of you.
He lined his member to your entrance again and fully bottomed out again, your walls now used to his size, but not stopping you from choking on a moan at the act. The man resumed into fucking you again at an even faster pace, the new angle hitting new spots that you didn't even know you had inside of you.
You were clouded in pleasure, mouth open, tongue lolling out, eye rolling to the back of your skull. You were light as a cloud and all you could think about was your boss. The man that gave you a job and trusted a big part of his business to you was now balls deep inside of you. His grunts and groans leaving with no shame to make a noise. He wanted you to know you were the one making him feel this way.
Your mind was so clouded that you didn't even register what you said. "What?" Jongho's movements faltered at your confession and request.
"Bite me" you repeated, eyes opening so you could watch his intense ones. "I want you to mark me" your whinny voice and the clench of your walls were enough to make him dizzy and clouded with you.
He didn't even think properly of the request, just wanting to fulfill your wishes. He leaned against your chest, a trail of kisses and gentle rubs of the tip of his fangs on his way up to your neck, that now smelled faintly of your perfume and more of your natural scent and sweat. He was addicted. You moved your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck.
He never stopped his thrusts, his hips pistoning at a slow and deep pace again.
He left sweet little kisses down your neck and throat until he reached the junction of your neck and shoulder. He gave a few licks on the spot before ripping the skin open with his sharp teeth. You screamed at both the pain and pleasure and the way they mixed all together. You didn't know which one was which.
He sucked your red elixir slowly, trying not to get overwhelmed at the taste but also not to make you faint. You started to get even lighter in the head at the same time the wetness in your core increased. You were starting to get close again.
"You taste divine, my darling" the man said after detaching from your neck and licking the holes clean. "I'm so close now, can you cum again for me? Hm? Be a good girl and cum around me again" he cooed at you, body pressed tightly against yours as he moved.
You nodded rapidly, mouth hanging open but no sound leaving anymore. You were happily spent.
Jongho lifted himself a little so he could rub your clit again. A few quick circles and you came undone underneath him, body tensing before falling limp.
He kissed your lips again and then your forehead "so good, darling, you did so well for me" he stroke a few strands of hair away from your face and peppered kisses all over it. "I'm close too, yn, where do you want me to cum?" He asked, restraining himself from coming before you answered him.
"Inside, please, sir" you both whined together.
He nodded with a smirk in his lips and, with a few more thrusts, he came, ropes of white coating and filling your walls as he slowly stopped his movements.
Jongho removed himself from you, both hissing at the feeling of loss. His cum dripping down your hole as your walls pulsated from the sensitivity and use.
He laid by your side. Quiet. Just the sound of your breaths slowly coming back to normal filling the hotel room. The man slowly moved his hand until he grabbed yours and intertwined your fingers together. His cold skin always a crude contrast to your warmth.
You two laid quietly together for a while, hands intertwined. Million thoughts started to run through your head as you started to go back to your normal state.
Sensing your overthinking, Jongho pulled you by your waist closer to his chest and kissed the top of your head. "I want you to know that I don't regret anything we did tonight. Very much the opposite of it"
You sighed against his arm where you laid. "But we still crossed a line" you looked over to him and found him already looking at you, his eyes slowly coming back to his normal red and fangs gone from his pearly white teeth. "And I don't know how to react" you confessed.
"Do you⊠like me? I mean, as do you want me?" He asked shyly but certain. You looked at him for a few seconds before slowly nodding, almost ashamed to be admitting this. "Well, I want you too, so there's no need to fuss or be nervous" he smiled and kissed your lips. Gentle, slow. You could taste the tangy taste of your blood on his lips.
"Thank you for protecting me today by the way" you met his gaze and he nodded with a smile.
"If you're going to be mine, you'll have to get used to get taken care of" a kiss on the tip of your nose. "And get marked everywhere on your body" you shivered at the thought, heat crawling up to your body back again.
"I can live with that" you mused before kissing him one more time before you both fell soundly asleep in each other's arms.
â ËïœĄđŠč song mingi is a lot of things. heâs top of the class you hate the most, a mutual friend of your roommates, probably the best dressed guy on campus⊠and now heâs haunting your dreams, too.
â ËïœĄđŠč smut 18+ MDNI, angst, reader has insecurities, EMOTIONAL CONSTIPATION, everyone smokes weed itâs a college au but itâs also kind of all they do, that being said college kids = drinking, brief toxicity? if you squint
â ËïœĄđŠč wc 26.6k
â ËïœĄđŠč a/n: here is a college stoner romance comedy mingi fic fueled with insanity. it means a lot to me so i hope you like my brainchild. furthermore this is for my dear @sungbeam college collab and i had so so much fun with it & also meeting such lovely ppl thru it <3!!! ALSO hm to @minkieater for the hard fucking banner she's goated and also thank u for telling me not to scrap this fic. OK ENJOY AH
â ËïœĄđŠč a lot of graphic wet dreams itâs the whole plot, so much dirty talk bc i headcanon heâs a talker, daddy kink (sorry), but freak4freak like mingiâs technically dom but theyâre both dirty freaky, pervy reader pervy mg, dry humping, so much praise, oral (f rec), vaginal fingering, size kink heâs big, big dick!mingi (he knows it), fingering (f rec), unprotected sex, oral (f rec), unprotected p in v including creampie
It starts off like any other dream.Â
Youâre lying on your bed, comfortably spread out with the same old pyjamas you had on when you fell asleep - a t-shirt stained with hair dye and shorts that have worn elastic, sagging down over your hips. The airâs a little dense at first when you try to move, like youâve been doing some heavy lifting and your limbs havenât quite started to work again, and it takes you a moment to come into yourself, fighting through the haze.
Immediately, it feels more real than your dreams normally would. Smoking weed before bed means that you donât often get any dreams at all, really, and your two best friends-turned-housemates are loud enough at all points of the day that your sleep can be interrupted at regular intervals. However, you can feel the softness of your sheets, the lilac floral set you put on when you got home from class, and you rub your feet against it. Itâs nice, comforting, and so normal that you quickly forget what it is - a dream.
A soft brush against your side, and you feel like a fish out of water. Thereâs someone here with you. On your bed. Itâs rare for San and Wooyoung to sit there, and this person definitely isnât either of them.Â
Itâs blurry initially, so hazy that you canât quite focus on his face, but his long limbs are splayed across your bed like heâs been here a million times before. The touch was his fingers, and his hands are big too, dexterous and clad in bulky silver rings and drumming a beat you canât recognise against your skin. Itâs too comfortable, familiar in a way that feels almost too vulnerable - itâs almost like youâve dreamed about this before.
He speaks, and you canât make out what heâs saying. His voice is a deep, gravelly tone, making you feel like youâre drifting asleep all over again. With insane willpower you blink rapidly, forcing yourself to look at his face.Â
You finally see him. Heâs staring at you like youâve done something silly, plump lips curled up with the hint of a smile, and his hair is messy and dark and cascading over his forehead. You can just about make out two beauty spots on his honey toned face. Heâs not wearing much, not really, clad in a tank top and baggy, below knee shorts for ultimate comfort, lensless glasses sitting on a sharp nose.Â
He blinks at you rapidly, scrunching his nose into a silly face to get your attention, lips forming a line, and all you can think is pretty, pretty, pretty.Â
âAre you listening to me, baby?â He says again, and you hear him this time, loud and clear. Baby. It makes a chill run through your body. Heâs your type - steady, cool, teasing and big and⊠heâs so handsome, soothing your skin with his fingertips as if he knows you, has known you for a while and-
âMingi,â You croak, unable to help yourself. Itâs Song Mingi from your economics class, that tall, cool kid whoâs always late to class but still really fucking smart, gets amazing grades; unlike you. He dresses really nice, chic, lots of bulky rings and these big chains, like the one heâs wearing now. You think youâve heard San and Wooyoung say they were friends before, and if you think harder itâs like youâve seen him drive San home before, but have you ever really paid attention?Â
Song Mingi from your economics class who is your mutual friend and also⊠your boyfriend? Right, yeah. That feels right. âSorry, honey. What were you saying?â
âI was saying,â He sing-songs, but itâs raspy, like he smoked just before he came over. âItâs always nice being here with you. Youâre beautiful, you know that? But it makes meâŠâ
His eyes move to your lips. You think you know what heâs going to say, and maybe itâs a little cliche, straight out of a show youâve seen, but the butterflies still flitter in your tummy.Â
You rub your feet against the blanket again - itâs exciting, sue you. âMakes you what?âÂ
Mingiâs leaning in before he speaks again, shuffling across your blanket until his breath is tumbling across your face. Heâs closer now, but itâs not intimidating, itâs exciting. If you focus you swear you can smell him, something like cedar and vanilla, sweet but enriching and you want more of it, now.
His hand moves to your hip, just barely dipping underneath your sleep shorts. Is he going to kiss you? Even better, is he going to touch you? Your mouth feels dry, and his hands are a little calloused on your skin. He goes to the gym, you remember through the fog. San goes with him sometimes - itâs from the weights. You feel dizzy, head spinning, inching even closer.
âIt makes me want more,â he breathes tentatively, âI want to do more with you, if youâll let me.â
âIâll let you.â You blurt, and he smiles. He wriggles his way on top of you, your arms closing around those broad shoulders - he is big. While your cunt starts to slick up dumbly at the first sign of a big, strong man, he finally kisses you, a sweet peck to the corner of your lips before a deeper, proper one, tangling his tongue with yours, and it feels so fucking real. Letting out a keen, you squirm underneath him, managing to pull away from his lips to speak. âIâll let you, please,â you whimper against his lips, messy, âmore, Mingi-â
He groans in disbelief, kissing you sloppy again, again, again, finally moving his hand down, cupping your pussy through your sleep shorts and balancing on one forearm. His lips slide against yours a little messily but itâs still amazing, making you whimper when his tongue moves against yours, more than igniting that fire in your belly. You can feel the pressure of his fingertips against your core, sure that nothingâs ever felt like this in your life. âSo pretty. You sound so fuckinâ pretty, baby, saying my name like that, shit-â
His fingers slide underneath your shorts, and of course you havenât got panties on. He meets your pussy bare, slick and sensitive under his touch, and he starts to rock against your fucking leg before he can even get a finger in.
He feels big, from what you can make out, pressing into your thigh. Big, hard, and god - does he leak too? Is he getting so worked up that he canât help but soak a pool in his boxers? You try to reach down to them, but he pins your hands back to the pillow with one big palm.
You can feel the cold metal of his rings biting against your hole when he adds a second finger. He finds your g-spot effortlessly, curling his long digits upwards, and tap tap taps until your eyes cross.Â
âLike this,â He murmurs, cheeks flushing. His lips part and his eyebrows knit in admiration when he looks back to your face and sees the way your own expression canât be controlled in your haze of lust, mouth falling open, letting out a wrecked whimper. âCan you cum like this? Drench your fucking shorts and let me suck âem clean after?â
He talks frantically, viciously almost, fucking into your pussy faster, trying to give you more stimulation. Itâs filthy and you canât believe itâs happening to you, hurtling into an orgasm that you know is going to be unsatisfying because he hasnât even brushed your clit but fuck, you want to be good. Is he doing this deliberately? His spare hand cups your breasts, palm jiggling the flesh with a noise of disbelief.
âI can! F-fuck, I can,â You hiccup, and he pushes your thighs back, uses his thumb and finger of his other hand to pinch your clit in such a way that you think you might cry. It would normally be not enough but itâs the sight of him, the way he pants on top of you from just humping your leg and wants you to cum so badly - youâre done for.Â
Digging your nails into his shoulders, you seize, crying out - and you wake up in a pool of your own sweat.Â
Your pyjamas are sticking to you, shorts drenched between your legs and youâre not sure where you are. For a second you think youâre still high, or even still dreaming, but now this is definitely real.Â
Alone in your room, your chest heaves as if youâve run a marathon, and when you slide your feet against your blanket it doesnât feel as good as it did before. What the fuck was that? You just had a sex dream about a guy that youâve spoken to maybe twice, and it was so real. The surroundings of your room feel like an entirely different dimension, even though you were just there, with him, with his scent and his large presence, almost too overwhelming.
Are you going crazy? Are you smoking too much weed? Probably the latter, but that doesnât change how that felt. You groan, rolling over to reach blindly for your phone. Knocking over a few things on your bedside table, you finally find it, and the time reassures you.Â
7:02. Still two hours until class, two hours to sort yourself out.Â
It would be great if it wasnât a Wednesday. Your first class is economics, where you normally sit just a few seats over from the main character of your all consuming dream. Can you ignore him for the whole class? Shit, could you just skip it? Did it really matter?
No, youâre close to failing that stupid class already. Itâs too complicated, it just doesnât go into your brain. It would be hard to get a tutor when everything costs money, too, and youâre committed to spending a large part of your student loan on getting high and ordering pizza with Wooyoung and San.
With yet another loud groan, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and bring yourself to go to the bathroom to wash up. In the mirror, your hair is sticking multiple different directions and you have that recently fucked look, eyes half lidded, t-shirt hanging off of one shoulder.Â
Is this rock bottom?
âWhatâs up with you today?â
Wooyoungâs gaze feels like the sharpest daggers shooting into your face. Considering you walked from your house together and managed to converse quite well until you got to class, youâre not really sure what you did wrong. You even complimented him on his bleached hair that he did himself at midnight because it really did look good. Despite that he still doesnât look happy, plump lips pursed in a scowl and fingers tapping on the table.
He sits to your left, and only three seats to your right is his seat. He hasnât shown up yet, heâs always late, but you already feel like the class is getting a little too hot. Youâre determined to persevere, despite the fact that your jeans feel too tight and even though youâre wearing them, it still feels like your legs are sticking to the plastic chair.Â
Clutching the signature banana milk you always get from the vending machine outside, you grumble - even the delicious taste isnât helping.
âNothing. Nothingâs up,â You mumble, licking sugary milk and banana flavouring from your lips, âWoo, should we just go?â
âBaby, youâre nearly failing,â He coos, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder. You donât know why heâs talking, because he hasnât even got a bag with him, only a single sheet of paper from your notebook and one of your sparkly pens. Looking at the big clock on the wall, you sigh deeply - heâs going to be here soon - and your friend nudges you under the table with his knee. The movement jostles your milk and you scowl. âWhatâs the matter? Seriously.â
âIâll tell you later, but itâs fucking stupid and youâll laugh.â
Wooyoung seems satisfied with this, grinning and ruffling your hair, but itâs then through messy strands that you see him. Well, the professor walks in first, but Mingi trails in behind her as if heâs got all the time in the world, and you frantically smooth your hair down.Â
His chains jingle with his movement, and his bag hangs off one shoulder. He looks confident, prepared, probably with books and his laptop in the bag. Heâs smart, you know he is, heâs top of the class, probably going to have a really stable analytical job after college that youâd never be able to comprehend. Thinking about it makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl, and you wish Wooyoung knew what was going on so he could slap you awake.
You drink your banana milk diligently.
The professor begins the lesson while Mingiâs walking to his seat, taking no notice of him as she arranges her things on the stand, and when he sits down you realise no oneâs sat between you this time. Low attendance, you suppose, looking around the entire room to see that not many seats are filled at all. He doesnât even look at you when he sits down and throws his bag to the floor. Youâre not sure why you expect him to, but you take the time to analyse him fully.
He never dresses casually. Shrugging off his leather jacket and letting it drape over the chair, the cheap plastic creaks with his movement, and the light glints off the bulky silver rings adorning his long fingers.Â
Itâs suddenly getting really hot now, and your banana milk is doing nothing to cool you. Your eyes scan over his hands and up his arms to his chest. His black turtleneck is tight on firm muscles and such a contrast to his silver chains, so pleasing to your eye. Mingiâs dark hair drapes over his eyes, but you can still see them, chocolate brown and striking and narrowing at you.Â
At you? You blink, and no, really, he is looking at you, and youâre not sure what to do. He doesnât give you a chance, thankfully, because he gives you a small smile and a little wave and turns to listen to the lecture.Â
Wooyoung practically chases you out of class by the end of it, even launching your carton in the bin for you. You manage to get him to a bench outside and once heâs situated, you clear your throat. He has his head in his hands, waiting, foot tapping against the floor. Heâs never been good with patience; San always teases him about the time you told him youâd tell them something in class the next day and he didnât sleep all night.
âI had a wet dream last night.â
Wooyoung groans loudly, kicking you in the shin. You squeal, falling onto the bench with an affronted stare, and he scowls at you. âIs that it? I probably have a wet dream every other night!â
âWoo, listen- listen to me. It was about Mingi. Your friend, Song Mingi. Be honest, is it over for me?â
His eyes light up. His face straightens, and then he leans forward, and you know youâre done before he even starts laughing, but the noise is still so loud that it makes your ears ring when heâs off. Multiple people in the quad turn towards you both, making you scowl at your housemate. He claps a few times in joy before heâs done.
âThatâs- thatâs probably the funniest thing Iâve ever heard, baby,â He giggles, hitting your shoulder playfully. âHave you spoken to him? At all? You never come to our friendsâ parties. Not one, actually, now that I think about it.â
The birds in the campus trees tweet a rhythm mockingly. Your eye twitches. Wooyoungâs lips curl again.
âMaybe once or twice, in passing,â You frown, voice soft and timid, âWoo, itâs not my fault. We donât choose our dreams, itâs your subconscious or something. Yâknow scientists have literally said that?â
âYou donât even know what youâre talking about, do you?â Heâs still smiling, and you shake your head. Heâs right, you donât, but youâre still sure you read that somewhere. âI guess youâre right though. Maybe- oh my god, maybe you do have a crush on him or something, a repressed one, and now itâs coming to the surface because itâs time. Like fate or something.â
You hum, thinking, deciding that Wooyoungâs insane. âStill, it felt real. Like, insanely real, Woo. It was better than anything Iâve had in person, and now I feel like Iâm seeing him differently.â
Wooyoung raises his eyebrows, but still rubs your knee comfortingly. Youâre thankful that heâs still being nice despite finding it very amusing. âItâs just a dream anyway. I donât think you have to worry about it that much, baby, youâll forget about him in a few days. Iâve had dreams that have given me crushes before too.â
âWhat if I donât? You donât get how intense it was.â
âWell, then we can talk to him,â He nods confidently, nudging you. âI can put a good word in, get you your dream boyfriend-â
âThat is literally the worst idea youâve ever had,â You deadpan, shaking your head, âI have a solid two friends for a reason, Iâm not a people person, I am just trying to get through college with zero problems. And heâs- Woo, heâs⊠cool. Like you two. I donât get cool guys.â
âYou got us, didnât you?â He pulls you into his side, kissing your forehead, then adds, âand we love you. Youâre our best friend,â It comforts you enough to quell your insecurities for a moment. He checks the time on his phone and whoops triumphantly, âletâs go home. San will be back from the gym and we can smoke and order food. My treat. Oh also, can I tell him?â
â... I donât think I have a choice.â
âNo, you donât. There's three of us in this relationship.â
Despite the fact that you fall asleep in some form of a puppy pile with Wooyoung and San in the latterâs bed, it happens again.Â
This time, youâre on the sofa in your living room. Mingiâs positioned underneath you, in a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants like an anime character youâd fantasise over, and youâre on his lap.Â
What are these fantasies?Â
Has your brain taken note of outfits heâs worn before?
You know itâs him from the size of his body and the way it feels, intense and all consuming, although you havenât managed to see everything yet, still fuzzy at the edges with sleep. The sweat drips down your collarbone already, and he seems just as wrecked from the squirming heâs doing, moving upwards into your body while he pulls you down against him by your hips. His hands move up your oversized t-shirt, settling on your flushed skin.
âFeels so fuckinâ g-good,â He huffs, âeven just- just like this,â
His deep voice makes your head spin, and when you see his face it feels like a relief. His cheeks are flushed, lips kiss bitten, and you place another few pecks on his lips for good measure. Heâs yours, after all, your boyfriend. âIs your little hole wet? Can you feel it, b-baby, drenching these cute little panties?â He whines, nosing into the crook of your neck, licking over the skin, âIs it begging for me? F-fuck, talk to me, please.â
He babbles incoherently but you can make out that itâs filthy, and you canât fucking believe it. Is he like this, really? Your hips grind down against him sharply, needing more, because heâs right. Panties drenched, too delirious to even think about it, your hands scramble against his shoulders. You can see everything in that t-shirt, the way his biceps bulge against the fabric and the way his chest clenches as he ruts himself against you, nipples poking through, tempting. Heâs got that expression again - eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, but this time heâs looking directly down at where youâre connected, bottom lip slick with spit. The pressure of his cock against your core in his sweatpants is so much, and you canât help it, eyes rolling back to your head.
âWant you, want you so bad,â You pant. It feels like the most honest thing youâve ever said. He nods, thrusting harder. He wants more, wants you to say more, his hands pulling you down against him. Itâs a dirty rhythm, a sinuous grind. âI want it so fucking bad, Mingi, you donât even-â you buck, whining, â-donât even know how bad, please, please-â
âYeah? Did you touch your little clit thinking about me?â He pushes you upwards, still letting you move against him but slipping his hand underneath his waistband to rub over his cockhead. Heâs desperate too, teeth biting into his lower lip. He wants it just as bad. You feel wet, and you look down to see youâve leaked right through your panties onto his sweatpants. Have you ever been this fucking wet before? âDid you think about my cock stretching you open, ruining you until you canât even remember your own- own fucking name?â
âI d-did, fuck,â You canât move, eyes fixated on where his hands move under the wet fabric. âFuck, Mingi, baby, please show me, Iâll do anything, please.â
His hand pauses, and your gaze flits back up to his face. His eyes narrow at you, just like they did in class, and his teeth have released his lower lip so that he can smirk at you, teeth white as snow. Itâs promising, but itâs like a threat, and your hands feel a little sweaty against his broad shoulders.Â
âReally, pretty thing?â His voice is hopeful, and his other hand begins to move his waistband down. You see the beginnings of his dark smattering of pubic hair and almost shaking, you whimper, nodding eagerly. âYouâll do anything for me?â
âAnything, I promise, please, fuck.â
Your eyes shoot open on a particularly loud snore from San. His leg and his arm are both slung over you, head resting on your shoulder with a steady stream of drool pooling on your t-shirt. When you glance at him, he sniffles out a snore, nose scrunching up and thick eyebrows knitting together. Heâs lucky you love him.Â
Once youâve spluttered yourself awake enough, the warm light of the desk lamp bathing the room catches your attention, and you see Wooyoung sitting on the chair by Sanâs desk. Heâs eating something, and the smell of bacon is the next thing that you register, slowly unwrapping yourself from the older man to crawl towards the younger at the desk.Â
Heâs already clocked you, a smile pulling at his lips as he loads the fork. âGood morning, sunshine.â
You snatch the fork from his fingers, munching before you can even talk. Eggs and bacon, and you wonder who Wooyoung learned to cook from. You make a mental note to ask, because itâs delicious. After you swallow, you mumble, âtime?â
âNine in the morning,â Relaxed as ever, he stretches out on the chair with an overpronounced yawn. Heâs still scrutinising you, and you know for sure that you havenât gotten away with it. âTwo nights in a row, huh?â
âHowâd you know?â You raise an eyebrow. Wooyoung looks pleased with himself and takes the fork back from you, continuing to eat his meal. Is it your hair? Were you⊠God, were you making noise?! He still hasnât said anything! âOh my fucking- Wooyoung?!â
âAll Iâm saying is Iâm surprised Sannie didnât wake up with all that squirming,â He finally responds, and the mentioned man grunts in his sleep at being mentioned, always alert, but goes back to snoring almost immediately after. âDonât worry, it was cute. I think you do have a crush. Subconsciously and all that.â
âI hate you,â You grumble, and he sighs, patting his lap. You still climb onto him, and he hums until you start to doze, stroking your hair in rhythm to Sanâs snores. It would make you laugh if you werenât nearly falling asleep again, but every time your eyes flutter shut you see big hands and a sharp nose and those beautiful dark eyes. Sighing, you stretch your legs out to wake yourself back up, âWooyoungie, I think Iâm going crazy. I donât even know the guy.â
âItâs okay,â He coos, and you can hear how amused he is. Still, he entertains it. âHeâs kind, very loyal. Smart, as you know. Sometimes heâs a little unsettling, but itâs endearing, in a way. A little like you.â
âI canât tell if youâre being serious or not.â
âWell, I love you both dearly, if that counts for anything.â
Still, this doesnât solve your problem, âWooyoung, what do I do?â
âI think itâll surprise you how easy this is going to be.â
It is a surprise to find yourself done up in a cute dress at a party not ten hours later, San and Wooyoung on each arm. You knew they knew people, sure, but theyâd been such good friends to you that theyâd sworn to be by your side through college, so youâd never bothered to ask to be introduced to their other friends.Â
From what you can gather, theyâre not frat boys but normal college students, too - Wooyoung told you that the two guys that live here are some of their good friends, and that makes you feel a bit better about arriving uninvited. Itâs quaint but well decorated, with music memorabilia on the walls, but you donât get a chance to take it all in because the house is absolutely packed.Â
San waves and hugs a few people as he walks through, and you see Wooyoung smiling at a group of people that you think must be in his dance classes, because they look as cool and sculpted as him. Still, they pull you through the throes of people into the kitchen, tipsy and stoned and honestly, a content smile on Wooyoungâs face that he finally got you in this position.
Youâre not even sure whoâs party this is, but the boys help themselves to drinks and San keeps a comforting hand on your lower back, leaning in close so that you can hear him while your other friend pours you a drink.Â
âYouâre sure youâre okay?â
âSannie, I have been to parties before, Iâm not a total shrew,â You tease. He pulls you into a sort of half-hug and you smell him, something earthy with a hint of jasmine, comfortable and grounding, familiar. Different to⊠youâre trying not to think about that.
The younger man hands you both the finished drinks, a concoction of something purple, and well, liquid confidence you suppose. You knock half of it down before you can think. He seems satisfied with this, but you hiss at the aftertaste, sticking your tongue out. âIâm definitely a smoker, not a drinker. This is fucking nasty. You guys drink this stuff all the time?â
âHe does, I kinda hate it too,â San huffs, swirling his cup in his hand and watching the liquid move.Â
Wooyoung scoffs, âthat and you canât handle your drink. You pass out after a few.â
Sanâs already flushed, but you swear he gets redder, shooting Wooyoung a dirty look with a too-cute pout before turning back to you. âRefresh me on the situation again by the way. You had a dream about Mingi? Song Mingi?â
Right, Wooyoung had caught him up over the course of the day while you napped and attempted to study. You lick your lips, trying to somehow clean yourself of the drinkâs bitter aftertaste but only getting a mouthful of sticky lipgloss.Â
âTwo dreams,â Wooyoung corrects, pointing at San, smiling so wide you can see his teeth in the dim light of the kitchen. Theyâre practically shouting over the music, and you want to tell them to be quiet but you are in a quieter area. No one can hear you, you hope, groups having filtered into the back garden, bedrooms and the living room. âAnd I think she liked him before. Fate, science - look, you had to be there. Anyway, we should go talk to him.â
âWooyoung, I do not know this man.â
âWe know him,â San smiles. Heâs too easy. âHey, this is cute! Is this your first crush? Heâs a good guy.â
You swat him away when he tries to pinch your cheeks. âNot my first crush or my first party. You have literally met some of my exes. I also donât think this is a good idea.â
âFirst, all of your exes were assholes so I didnât like them and therefore they donât exist. Second, you have to think itâs a somewhat good idea because you did come - to the party, I mean,â Wooyoung grabs your hand, pulling you to the back door. âI think theyâll probably be out here.â
Wooyoungâs right, about both things. All of your exes were assholes, men that only cared about getting their dick wet and their own feelings and not at all about yours. Youâve always thought it would be nice to have a man who takes notice of the things you like, the way you feel; the longer life dwindles on it seems to become less attainable.Â
Heâs also right that you came to this party with the idea that your friends were setting you up. You donât expect them to be subtle about it though - a fact that daunts on you as they lead you through the kitchen.
As soon as the back door opens, youâre hit with the sight of what seems to be a much cooler, more private party. The smell of weed and the sound of softer, less overwhelming music are the first things you can process and yeah, okay, this might be more your type of scene. Thereâs a cute, shorter guy wearing flared jeans and a shiny tiara, chatting with a group of people enthusiastically; surely it must be his party.Â
Youâre pulled over to a section of outdoor seating where thereâs a few people sitting down. Thereâs a small fire going, contained in a silver pit, and the warmth is welcomed on your skin, cold from the outside air biting at your skin in the cute dress youâre wearing. Really, you donât clock him at first, but Wooyoung and San are eager to take you over to that area and there can only be one reason why.
âYunho!â Wooyoungâs way too chipper, but Yunho falls for it, springing up from one of the chairs to wrap his arms around the shorter male. Sanâs hugging someone too, and from the corner of your eye you see itâs fucking Mingi, and youâve never felt so betrayed in your life.Â
âFancy seeing you here, huh?â San says, way too exaggerated, and you hover in confusion as he continues, âwe finally brought our cute friend, look.â
Cute friend? Suddenly all of the attention is on you. Yunho and Mingi are both peering at you, and Mingi is - he has to be assessing you, eyes scanning your frame. You canât see them properly due to the sunglasses. Does he recognise you? Youâve only spoken once or twice before, in passing. He probably doesnât even know your name.Â
Yunho seems to know who you are, grinning from ear to ear and pulling you into a hug before you can even introduce yourself. You canât help but laugh, throwing your arms around him while avoiding spilling your purple drink on his white satin shirt.
âItâs so good to meet you!â He shakes you happily. Mingi still hasnât said anything, but heâs clutching a bottle of jagermeister and a cup with a different drink, looking at you as if heâs waiting for the moment. You try not to be uncool right in front of his eyes, smiling at Yunho politely. âWooyoungie kept talking about you, all nice things, I promise. You have some good friends here.â
âI canât really get rid of them, kinda like the plague,â You smile, and youâre glad Yunho detects your sarcasm and lets out a loud laugh, a bit too loud to be normal. He ushers you all to sit down, and when everyoneâs situated the only available spot left is next to Mingi.Â
How convenient.Â
In your peripheral vision, you can see your best friends have already roped Yunho into a conversation, leaving the subject of your fantasies free and still fucking looking at you.Â
Hesitantly, you sit down. The fire is nice you suppose, warming up your legs quite quickly, and you keep your knees firmly planted together and far away from him. The other three chatter away, preoccupied in such an intentional way that it makes your blood boil. Itâs time to consider rooting through your bag in a way that looks like youâre doing something.
He says your name, and it feels like time stops. Heâs speaking to you. This is the worst possible situation, how are you even meant to talk to him? Slowly, you turn to look at him. Heâs in a black zip up jacket, bottle of Jagermeister in hand, sunglasses pushed down to the end of his nose. Those chains glint in the light again, and he leans forward, saying your name again, pushing the sunglasses onto his head. They push his hair back in the most delicious way that you shiver. No. Not right now. âItâs nice to finally meet you. Youâre in my economics class too, right? You sit with Wooyoung.â
He knows you. âR-right,â You blurt, smiling nervously. âI am. Mingi, right?â
âYou sit just a few seats over from me, with Wooyoung. I wanted to say hi to you, but to be honest, I never knew how,â He scratches the back of his neck. Heâs cute, a little shy despite how big and scary he looks. Just like Wooyoung said. It feels like that makes it all even worse - he really is a dream, delightful traits rolled all into one. âItâs good to all get together though, right? I donât think Iâve seen you at one of these before.â
âOh, no. I donât really get out much, to be honest. Iâm a homebird,â You say, and cringe inside. What the fuck are you saying? You need to be cool.Â
But Mingi only smiles, letting out an âahâ. âMe too, to be honest. Iâm an anime in bed guy, but I live here, so I have to leave my room. Itâs really sad.â
Not only is he actually so easy to talk to, but he reassured you quickly - heâs the same. Wooyoung was right again.
He lives here, though, which means⊠Wooyoung and San brought you to a party at Mingiâs house? This is some sort of next level interfering that you never even considered, but you have to act normal, so you clear your throat.
âYou live with that guy wearing the tiara, then?â
âHis name is Hongjoong,â Mingi laughs. âYou donât know whoâs house youâre at?â
Fiddling with the clasp of your bag, you look down at your lap. âI told you, I donât normally go to parties. I got dragged to this.â White lie.Â
âItâs fine, Iâm only kidding. Anyway, you know me,â He grins playfully. You flush, suddenly too warm from the fire, a little too awkward but also with such deep desperation in your belly. His zip-up slips from his shoulder and you see a bit of tanned skin that makes you inhale. âSo you drink. You smoke too?â
You laugh. âOh yeah, I smoke.â
Mingiâs eyes narrow at you again, perceiving you. Is he impressed? Flustered? Heâs still smiling, like he knows something about you, but youâre not sure what.Â
The conversation is interrupted by Yunho, whoâs pulling a bong out from by the side of the table with a loud cheer. Wooyoungâs already dragging the bong from his lap. San has fallen asleep next to him, cheeks flushed and shoulders slouched over. Wooyoung doesnât take any notice, giggling as he readies the pipe. He spills some weed on his lap but doesnât look bothered.Â
You point at San. âIs he okay?â
Everyone chimes in at once - âHe does thisâ.
Mingi leans closer to you, and you manage not to tense up when he speaks easily, âWhat are you drinking?â
You motion at the plastic cup of Purple Concoction on the floor, and he sucks his teeth, shaking his head. While the others carry on, Mingi leans down and you immediately seize up.
âIâm not drinking jager,â you panic, âthatâs way too-â
He chuckles and hands you his plastic cup, with a liquid not dissimilar in appearance to coke, and you want to laugh in his face.Â
Is this like⊠inadvertently sharing spit?Â
Reaching for the cup, you take a sip of the drink, and he watches you, waiting for your reaction.
Itâs surprisingly nice. A lot better than whatever the fuck the guys gave you in the kitchen, and definitely not jager. Itâs some sort of rum with coke and you hum at the taste, handing the cup back to him. Heâs still watching you, keeping eye contact as you swallow the liquid down.Â
When he lets you get this close, you notice the two beauty spots on his face from your dream, one by his eye and one on his cheek, and it makes your heart soar. Heâs so cute, despite the way he dresses, rough and raw on the exterior and kind and gentle inside.
âMuch better, right?âÂ
âMuch better,â You agree. For a second, the ugly, rearing insecurity appears in your head again - what are you doing? Heâs so out of your league.Â
Before it can fester, Mingi clicks his tongue, taking a sip himself. âSee, you should stick with me tonight,â he leans back, then smiles, âIâve got the good stuff, and Iâm cooler than San. Heâs fallen asleep already.â
Stick with him tonight. Just as you think there might be something there, a little flickering of intrigue in his eyes as well as yours, the guy with the flared jeans rushes over out of nowhere.
âMingi-ah, Iâm so sorry, but someoneâs throwing up in the living room and I need your help.â
The gentle voice brings you both out of your trance, and he immediately spins his head to the other man. Hongjoong, you think you remember him saying. Mingi all but rolls his eyes - does he look disappointed? - but swings his legs over the edge of the seat, leaving you with the nice tasting drink.
âSorry, I better go,â He says, and Hongjoong gives him a look full of something that you canât work out. Mingi looks awkward, eyebrows raising in expectation for you to say something, so you nod politely and he shoots you a grin. You think youâll replay that grin forever, late at night when youâre trying to remember all of the angles of his face. âIâll see you in class, yeah?â
âYeah.â You nod, licking over your lips. âit was really nice talking to you, Mingi.â
He shoots you a smile that looks a little too upset, but heâs off then, housemate in tow; Wooyoung wordlessly passes you the bong, eyes pink and limbs stretched over the sleeping San. Itâs hard not to go over the events with the sudden silence and your clammy fingers wrap around the cup he left you, taking another gulp of the alcohol as it pops into your head.
Apologetic.
Hongjoong looked apologetic that he was interrupting you both, and you want to tell your friends and deepen that and make it more than it is; but youâre reminded that in reality, youâre just another girl Mingi was talking to at a party.
Itâs been a couple days with no dreams now, which feels good, because you only saw him in passing again during the party. You have thought about him, in fleeting thoughts where youâve gone over the events of the party, but itâs good not to let it linger. Just two dreams, thatâs all it was, and you sit in economics class the following Wednesday with a relatively clear head and a nice skirt on, determined that you definitely do not have a crush.
Additionally, another decision - you will not fail this class. Two simple resolutions; last week was just a minor setback.
He walks in, and sits in his seat, and thereâs actually people sitting between you this time. This is reassuring because you canât focus on how his thighs fit in those jeans, or how nice his hands look when he types, or how his hair falls over his forehead in such a mysterious way-
No. You stare at your notes, flicking over the pages. Itâs good to refresh before the professor starts, you think, and you really think it works when she begins her lesson and does a brief recap⊠before she starts talking about a test a few weeks after break. Huh?
âSince itâs the last week before fall break, I thought Iâd give some of you a chance to study and get your grades up,â She explains, and you think you see her glance towards you and Wooyoung. Everyone groans, and she tuts, laughing. âThis test isnât that hard, Iâm being really nice to you guys!â
You zone out again. Now youâre going to have to do a stupid test on something you donât care about, and youâre either going to let yourself down or just not show up to do it at all, to be honest. You sigh and huff and puff, scribbling a doodle on your page.
To everyone, you included, the bell ringing after the rest of the boring lesson is a welcome sound. You huff when you put your books into your bag, you huff when you sling your bag over your shoulder, and youâre still huffing at Wooyoung as you both walk out of the door.Â
That is, until a firm hand stops your path and a very clear, deep voice says your name.
Looking up, you see Mingi, lensless glasses on his nose again and that little shy smile on his lips, and the last few days of progression are forgotten.Â
How could you ever forget how pretty he is? Love songs start playing in your head, intricate violins and piano, and itâs jarring how nervous you feel all of a sudden, uncertain of yourself. Heâs so beautiful and he dresses well and heâs smart and kind and easygoing, but you still have that looming feeling of itâs never gonna happen, hopping from foot to foot in your boots.
Wooyoung keeps walking, pretending to be occupied on his phone, and you realise youâre staring at Mingi and not saying anything. âMingi. Hi!â
âHi, itâs good to see you again,â He seems a little flustered himself, fingers pulling at the collar of his t-shirt and you canât help but smile. Heâs so endearing. âHow have you been since the party?â
âGood,â You shrug easily, like it hasnât been destroying your nerves for the past few days, âIâve been good. I- youâre good too, I hope?â
Inwardly cringing, you flush, but Mingi seems to find it amusing, lips curling up. âIâm great. Hey, listen, couldnât help but overhear youâre not doing too well in economics, and well, Iâm not too bad at it myself,â he snaps his fingers, and your eyes widen. No. âI can study with you for the test, if you want.â
âIs that a good idea?â Youâre straight to the point, and Mingi offers a pout, confused, and you want to cry. âI mean, Mingi, I would just take up your time-â
âI want to study with you,â He seems to straighten up then, and you remember how big he is, towering over you. âNo offence, but I know youâre not doing too well, and I want to help you,â He seems determined, and you canât work out why, but he continues, âWe could bump your grade up a little if you do well on the test.â
You let out a strangled noise, tapping your foot. â⊠Fine.â
âI- I could come to yours later on today? If youâre free, that is.â
You stare. Thatâs the second worst fucking idea youâve ever heard, next to Wooyoungâs that got you talking to this tall, beautiful man in the first place. Why not the library? But youâre going to have to, arenât you, because you canât deny that face anything, and what other choice have you got?Â
The idea of being in close proximity to him like that and being able to trace every single line and dot on his face with your eyes is anxiety and arousal inducing and heâs staring at you hopefully, waiting for an answer-
âMingi, Iâm bad at this class,â You blurt. He only tilts his head in question. âI could bring your grade down, distract you so badly by asking so many questions that you end up at the bottom just like me.â
Heâs quick to respond, as if he canât miss this opportunity. âThatâs a bit extreme,â he breathes out a laugh, âvery unlikely. Anyway, call it helping a friend out.â
A friend. Of course.
âRight, wellâŠâ You rub the back of your neck.Â
It would be stupid to pass this up. If studying with him could really help your grade, and stop you retaking this dumb class, youâre sure you can reign in the horny demons inside of you for a few nights a week. You look down at the floor, but get caught at his legs.Â
In the rips of his black jeans, you see a slither of muscled thigh. Your eye twitches.
Shit, can you reign it in? Fuck, youâre gonna have to. âOkay. Iâll work really hard. Iâll be a really good study partner, like, the best.â
âI know youâll be good,â He grins, and god, did he mean the way that came out? Heâs already pushing his phone into your hands for you to put your number in, and you send an emoji to yourself so that you have his too. âCool. Iâll text you, let you know when Iâm on my way.â
By the time heâs walked away, somehow Wooyoung is right behind you again, giggling in your ear about fate.Â
But thatâs how you find yourself in your room not five hours later, unfortunately not high and staring at Mingi, sitting contently in front of you. San and Wooyoung had greeted him in the hallway, mumbling too quietly for you to hear - to your dismay - and now youâre in your room. Your plushies and girly things would be embarrassing if he didnât immediately pick up a fuzzy teddy bear and place it on his lap, cooing and pulling softly at his droopy ear.Â
Heâs so cute, and the more you think about it the more itâs got you scowling in your loungewear. A matching set, in the hopes that heâd think you look nice.
Heâs talking about something, you think, but god you feel like youâre in those dreams you have again with how heâs on your bed and youâre dizzy with it - except youâre not. Itâs real, heâs there, perched on your mattress next to you in a zip-up jacket and joggers for comfort with textbooks set beside his lap. He kicked off his shoes in your hallway, and heâs in a spare pair of Sanâs slippers, two sizes too small.Â
You focus back in when he waves his fingers in front of your face teasingly, and all you can do is mumble sorry thereâs no desk in my room.
âWhat? Thatâs fine, itâs better to be comfortable anyway,â He laughs, finally placing the teddy bear back in its spot. He pats his head. You want to scream. âDo you have any idea what you want to start with? We can keep it pretty basic at first and work our way up. She said the test wonât be too bad - if you actually listen to me, youâll be fine.â
Itâs said pointedly, with a little grin like he knows youâre not going to listen.
âCool, cool,â You smile with way more confidence than you feel. Your entire body hums like a live wire at the proximity. âSo Iâll be top of the class when the grades come out, right?â
He narrows his eyes at you playfully, grabbing a textbook from the pile. âRelax. Iâm top of the class.â
Oh.
You stare at him, smirking like youâre not the slightest bit affected, even though you really are. He often rides on the line between confident and cocky, like heâs daring you to call him out. Like he knows something you donât, always one step ahead.
Scooting a little closer, you scoff, accepting the challenge. You can play ball. âTop of the class doesnât mean youâre good at tutoring. What if you canât make me any better?â
Mingi glances up at you, playfulness in his eyes, that slow smile forming like it has all the time in the world. His jaw clicks when he speaks, âYouâre being cheeky, yâknow that? I guess Iâll have to show you what I can do.â
âThat-?â You swat him, and he catches your wrist easily, making you gasp and pull back sharply. Heat crawls up your neck. âLetâs- okay, letâs just start.â
He chuckles, low and easy, satisfied at how flustered youâve gotten. You wonder for a moment if he can feel it between you too, but he leans closer, resting his elbow on his knee as he opens the textbook between the two of you. Thereâs a decent amount of distance, but you swear you can feel the heat radiating from his thighs - you have to squeeze yours together to calm down. Not now.Â
âYouâre already not paying attention, are you?â
Itâs hard to because he smells like warm cologne and something familiar, vanilla and cedar and youâve smelled this before, you swear, in your dreams. His leg brushes yours like itâs no big deal, like youâre not looking at how much bigger than you he is, like he doesnât notice how you shiver every time he gets this close. Does he?
He taps a paragraph on the page, saying something about how this part is important, and we should go over this too, but his voice is softer now, almost tender. âYouâre not even looking at the book. Whatâs up? Have you really just got a mental block for this?â
No, youâre just too attractive and itâs overwhelming. âYup, think so,â you exhale, rubbing your sweaty palms on your leggings, âhey, what if we smoke before we study? I think I might focus better.â
Mingi seems to consider it. He scratches a nail down the page in thought - you notice heâs got some letters painted on his nails, and you want to ask. Eventually he shrugs, shutting the book and throwing it to the side. Your jaw drops that he gave up that easily, but heâs rummaging through his bag all of a sudden with ring-clad hands before he pulls out a little plastic bag.Â
âI planned for this.â
Itâs your turn to grin.Â
âI mean, if you insist,â You tease, nudging him with your foot, and Mingi chuckles, low and sexy. The thought pops into your head again - you and him. Itâs so easy, bantering back and forth, the nerves only electrifying you more. You remind yourself very quickly that this is nothing more than a study session, or preparing for one at least.Â
Passing him the rolling tray from your bedside table, because youâd be damned if you were rolling with his stuff, you settle back on your pillows leisurely. He immediately begins to roll, pulling papers out of his zip-up pocket, and you want to ask him things rather than stare at his hands. Get to know him. Sue you, heâs pretty. âWhat do you major in?â
âMusic production. So does Hongjoong, thatâs how we know each other,â He answers easily, and youâre shocked initially, but actually⊠It makes sense. Heâs relaxed and sometimes shy, but he can ride the line between confident and cocky - like he has two personas, the Mingi you see and the Mingi you actually get. Itâs fun. âWhat about you?â
âEnglish, believe it or not,â You say, and Mingi hums. âSo you make music?â
He licks the paper, sealing the joint. âIâm not surprised. You seem smart like that,â He seems confused on where to smoke it, but you pass him an ashtray and he throws you a thumbs up as he lights it, inhaling deep and filling your room with the funky-smelling smoke, âbut yeah, I make music. Iâm a rapper.â
A rapper? So heâs good with his tongue. You shiver, âRight.â
âOh, do you? Write, I mean?â He smiles at his own joke, eyes already half lidded and a little pink, handing you the joint; youâll never admit you giggled at it too.
You take a few diligent tokes, ashing in the tray when necessary. âI do, sometimes, but I donât get much free time anymore.â
âMm, I bet,â Youâre already a little giggly, and you hand the joint back with a warm feeling on your cheeks and limbs feeling a little slower, less in control. âI could⊠maybe show you a song I made. Only if you show me something you wrote. That would be cool, I think.â
You canât believe youâre in here smoking with him, and heâs telling you things about himself, too. You can build on this.Â
No - youâre getting ahead of yourself again.
âIâd be down,â You smile softly. He hands you the joint again, another quarter smoked, his lips now with a permanent curve of bliss. Heâs high, and he looks so pretty when heâs high, fixing his dark shaggy hair with long, ring clad fingers. He lays on his side in front of you, grabbing your teddy bear to hold at his chest while he leans on his hand, comfortable. Thereâs one burning question in your mind as you examine him, his zip-up slipping off his shoulder, âhonestly, Iâm surprised you donât major in fashion. You dress really cool.â
That slow, lazy smirk forms again, ear to ear. You almost choke as you inhale, but you manage to keep it in. âYou think I dress cool?â
You shrug, suddenly aware of how hot it is in your room. âI mean⊠yeah.â
âThanks,â He says, then adds, almost too casually, âI think youâre really pretty.â
It lands harder than he expected. Your breath stutters, and he licks his lips, eyes widening like he thinks heâs gone too far. âIs that-â he hesitates, â-okay? Can I say that?â
You nod, still catching your breath. âYeah, you- yeah, you can say that.â
Now itâs his turn to look nervous, teeth worrying at his lip but this time like heâs trying not to smile too wide. He thinks youâre pretty? Really pretty? The compliment loops around in your head. You hand him the joint back, meaning to follow it up with a question but he simply puts it out in your ashtray, the finality causing you to pause.Â
He moves into a sitting position with a quiet sigh, and rifles through his bag a little. Just as youâre about to speak, he pulls out his laptop - the screensaver is one of him, Hongjoong and Yunho from a holiday, you judge by the background of the shot, but he clicks away and types his password in too fast for you to examine it fully.
âAnyway,â He says, too deliberately normal, clicking on a file, âIâve got some material from the professor. It should help clear things up.â
Just like that, he moves on like the compliment was nothing, like it didnât linger between you. You assume you should too.Â
Friends compliment each other, right? Heâs already pulling the file up, dexterous fingers quick and practiced clicking on the pages he needs and your head spins pleasantly from the weed, rubbing your clammy hands on your legs again.
A few clicks of his cursor, and he motions you closer, utterly unaware of how intoxicating he smells this close - youâre pooling in your panties again. Your knees touch and this time it sends a shock through you, but you catch the gasp in your throat before it leaves.Â
âAlright,â he says softly, voice deep, âtake a look at thisâŠâ
Focusing on anything else feels impossible, but you push through it, determined - for him.
Itâs only gotten worse.
Rather than the dreams just being sexual, now theyâre something more homely and serious than your heart can handle. Youâve had no more study sessions, although youâre due one today, and youâve had these godforsaken dreams almost every night.Â
Mingi cooking you dinner in your kitchen, smelling of oil and something delicious. Mingi holding your hand, safe and sure, as you walk through the city at night. Restaurants with Mingi, him pouring you another glass of wine and giggling when your nose scrunches up at the taste.
Itâs getting domestic rather than primal, and youâre not sure how to deal with it. Itâs made you want him more, while the times you actually see him only remind you that he doesnât see you like that. At least, not in real life.
To make matters worse, Mingi insisted you continue your study sessions - along with now sending you some motivational GIFs over text during the week to make sure youâre on top form, like that was meant to help your sick little crush - and now you find yourself sitting waiting for him in the library, heart already fluttering something stupid.
A carton of banana milk slides across the desk.Â
You squeak and barely manage to catch it before it tips over, glad that the campus library is pretty much empty due to fall break and you can make however much noise as you like. The librarian would typically tell you off for saying one word, but sheâs got her own nose in an old, weathered book, her eyes fluttering shut from sleep.
A big body drops into the seat across from yours, the weight of him making the table feel smaller. Mingi looks entirely too pleased with himself, nodding pointedly at the carton.
âThatâs it, right?â He snaps his fingers, âthatâs the one you like.â
You stare. It's the same exact one you get from the vending machine in the building where your economics class is every week, but given that youâre now on break you havenât had a reason to go there. It had been hard, trying to do any form of studying without your banana milk, but⊠how could Mingi have noticed that you get this one?Â
âHowâŠâ You shake your head. âHow did you know?â
His eyebrow raises, looking confused, opening his laptop.Â
âI always see you with one,â He says, as if it explains everything. Your gut clenches, and you feel something tingle in between your legs too, like all it takes is a carton of milk, making you feel nothing but desperate - itâs more than that, though. He noticed.Â
A few clicks, and then he digs in his bag again, setting a carton of strawberry milk down for himself and a set of papers next to you both. Your heart flutters. âI brought worksheets too. I know, not really fun, but at least I can see what you know since you know⊠we werenât exactly productive last time,â he tuts at you playfully, âbad influence.â
You gasp dramatically. âExcuse you. We studied after, and it was your weed.â
He nudges your ankle softly with his shoe. âAnd I brought you a banana milk,â he slides the papers over, ânow do the sheets for me, youâre wasting time again.â
For him, youâd do anything. Your pencil scribbles across the paper as you write your name with a heart next to it, as if youâre not his only student. Mingi doesnât notice - he takes the time to do something on his laptop. You wonder what, because he pulls his headphones over his head and starts working dutifully. Itâs hard not to simply watch him at work and ignore what he asked you to do; he clocks in so quickly, eyes narrowing at the screen and lips mouthing words you canât decipher. Heâs comfortable in baggy jeans and a hoodie, chains and rings catching your attention but he looks amazing, like everything he wears is straight from a fashion show.
Shaking your head, you turn to the paper - but you read a total of one question before realising that you really have no idea what the fuck is going on in this class.
âMingi,â You say finally, tapping your pencil on the page, âI need help.â
To your surprise, he pulls his headphones off his dark hair quickly and leans over to you, eyes flickering to your sheet. It takes everything in you not to kiss him then and there.Â
â⊠Thatâs the first question,â He looks at you, taking in your blank expression, then exhales a laugh. âOkay, Iâve seen you in every class - do you just not focus at all?â
Flailing your limbs around dramatically, you groan, âitâs boring as hell. The lecturer is also boring as hell.â
He snorts, but instead of teasing you more like you expect him to, he pulls his chair around properly, close enough that your knees touch. A shiver wracks through your spine.Â
âAlright,â he says gently, voice calmer, more soothing, âforget how she explained it. Iâll do it my way.â
He takes your pencil, fingers brushing against yours, sketching quick boxes and arrows across the page.Â
âOkay,â he begins, âeconomics is just people making decisions but with maths.â
You blink. âI donât think thatâs correct.â
He grins, sharp nose scrunching, clearly pleased that youâre actually interested for once. âNo, seriously. Itâs people making choices because they want something and donât have enough money or time for it. All we have to do is sound smart when we talk about it.â
He sketches two simple lines with your pencil, next to the questions on the sheet, a curve sloping upwards and another sloping down right next to it. You recognize it immediately, which makes you a little proud.
âSupply and demand,â You mumble, pointing at the page. His eyes brighten.
âSee? You do know things,â He says softly, like itâs a secret. His shoulder brushes yours as he leans closer, and you remember the party, how close he was then, and you forget everything youâve ever learned. Fuck.
âSo this,â He taps the downward curve, your cat-shaped eraser bobbing comically on the edge of the pencil, âis demand. People want less of something when itâs expensive, more when itâs cheap - dramatic, but predictable, right? Of course we do.â
âAnd supply,â He continues, tapping the other line, âthatâs the opposite. Producers are greedy. Theyâre willing to sell more when prices are higher.â
He freezes, glancing sideways at you. âYou still with me? Thatâs like, basic basic.â
You nod a little too fast. It makes sense, but fuck, are you allowed to kiss him yet? Heâs so patient, so kind, and so cute that even his fucking teeth are cute. âYeah. Iâm here.â
His mouth twitches like he doesnât quite believe you, but he lets it slide and draws a small dot where the lines intersect.
âEquilibrium,â You say, and he nods.
âThe sweet spot,â He murmurs, and you shiver. This has to be some sort of fucked up joke. âEveryoneâs equally unhappy here. Price equals quantity demanded equals quantity supplied. No shortages. No surplus.â
He leans back just enough to look at you properly. Youâre not confused, rather determined, staring at the sheet.Â
He fiddles with the eraser, rings glinting in the light. âSo what part loses you?â
âAll of it,â you admit, âbut especially those shiftsâŠ? Why do things move?â
His expression softens. You wonder if heâs finally realised youâre hopeless, but he starts speaking again, more determined.
âOkay, so,â He flips to a clean section of the page and starts again, slower this time, drawing the same silly diagrams and the same silly dots and scribbles. His plump lips curl in focus, making him look so handsome that your hands unclench and clench in your lap. âThink of demand shifting like your banana milk.â
Your heart flutters.
âYou donât always want it, right?â He says casually, like he hasnât just seen you so viscerally. âLike if itâs hot outside, or youâre stressed, or the lecture was particularly boring, then you want it more. I bet youâd even pay more.â
Heâs right, you think, but why does this all make sense now, with him? He rubs at the page with your cat-shaped eraser and shifts the curve, oblivious to your internal plight. âThatâs a demand increase. Same price, more quantity demanded.â
You stare at the page, then at him. âYouâre using me as an example.â
âWell,â he shrugs, too nonchalantly for how you feel looking at him. âYouâre the first thing I thought of.â
Your fingers tighten around the edge of the paper. Heâs still got your pencil so you canât fidget, but you can smell his cologne, mixing with the scent of books in the library. It feels way too intimate and the furthest youâve gone is your knees touching. You want more, but you have to focus.
âAnd supply, then⊠if things get cheaper, or easier to produce, you can make more so supply increases,â You try, quieter and uncertain, but he nods encouragingly. âI think this actually makes some sense when you explain it.â
Something unreadable flickers across his face - pride, perhaps. âGood,â he says, softer, âI want you to get it.â
You smile, taking a sip of your banana milk that has you humming with glee. Tasty. He mirrors you and takes a sip of his, sliding the worksheet back towards you, his fingers lingering just a second too long to tap on the words printed. Heâs got the same letters written across his fingernails again.Â
âTry the next question,â He nudges you. âIâll stay here.â
It takes you a second to decode, but you start to scribble down things here and there, trying to make heads or tails of the question. Mingi is silent the whole time but you feel him watching what youâre doing, and you feel the weight of his arm when he lays it on the back of the chair behind you.
Within a few minutes you seem to have written something of note, and you slide the paper back to him silently.Â
He clicks his tongue without saying a word and leans forward closer to the desk. Dark eyes narrow at the page and read over the few lines youâve written, before he side eyes you with a satisfied smirk.
âGood girl,â Itâs said teasingly, and he smooths your hair, too casual. Your tummy flips but his grin is content, unknowing, his eyes forming crescents, âsee, I told you youâd get it. Try the next one.â
Somehow, it starts to seem easier with him around, and over time, he has to help you less and less. It doesnât quell the burning in your gut, only igniting it to the point it starts to get unsufferable, and all you can do is try to ignore the flames.Â
The next time heâs between your legs in your dreams is in your room again, and it feels so much more vivid now that you know more about him, about the way he speaks to you, the way he acts.Â
âWhat a pretty fucking pussy,â He muses, eyes fixated directly on your core. He uses his thumbs to pull your lower lips apart, and you can see those letters on his nails. He watches your folds stick together with arousal once he lets go, groaning, running his fingertip up your slit - the contact makes you gasp, hips bucking tentatively for more. âDoes she always get this wet?â he spits down on your mound, watching it drip, âfuck- fucking creamy, baby, shit.â
He lets out a little moan before heâs diving in. You canât get any relief, trying to squirm away - his broad shoulders are spreading your thighs apart as well as pinning them, and his hands are still playing with your pussy while he tongues over your slit.
âTasty too, good girl, mmf-â he whines, moving to pull you closer by your ass instead, his rings biting into your skin. He says it the way he did in the library, and your cunt gushes so wet his lips click against it; the moan you let out is like youâre in distress, hand gripping onto the headboard.Â
How does he know you like this? His lips suck over your clit and you wail, reaching down with your spare hand to push his head in.Â
âFuck, Mingi,â you gasp, writhing, âso fucking good, please-âÂ
Yanking at his hair, you canât help but grind your hips into his face. He doesnât stop you, hands gripping you and pulling you in rhythm against his tongue, and you think heâs gonna make you cum already. Itâs too quick, debilitating as you hump his fat tongue to your orgasm and you pull at dark strands, looking down your body to see dark, narrowed eyes staring right up at you and he groans deep against your folds, youâre so close, almost there-
This time you wake up horny but beyond fed up, almost ignorant to the throbbing between your legs. Itâs quick and easy to make yourself cum with your fingers, sticking your hands down your pants to rub one out while thinking of soft lips and rapid rapper tongues, and after that itâs just another day of being haunted by him, you suppose.Â
Except this time you have a study session at Mingiâs house, and you havenât been there since the party.Â
It may have been the excitement and nerves surrounding the plans that caused the dream, but youâre too tired to care about it, yawning over exaggeratedly and stretching the sleep away from your limbs. Youâve studied hard, had a few more sessions with him that werenât romantically charged and watched countless videos online. Youâve even read some books, some that he gave you and some that you found yourself - youâre ready to impress him, glancing over at the many papers and folders in your bag.
However, despite the attempts to gain his praise, youâre beginning to accept that youâre doomed to a life without Mingi, or worse, a life with Mingi just as your friend.Â
Every single time something appears to click between you, or you have what Wooyoung would call A Moment, something interrupts or distracts one of you. Then, the moment evaporates, and nothing happens. While youâve been sitting on pins for days, waiting for something to happen - youâre also unsure something will happen.
Youâre unsure if youâve read the entire situation the wrong way, and he really is just a good, kind friend, and your insatiability has just driven you to blur the line between fantasy and reality.
When you finally get ready and go downstairs after doomscrolling on your phone, Wooyoung and San are both looking at you like the cats who got the cream. Theyâre standing in the kitchen, heads fully spun towards you while you hover in the doorway in your nice jeans with a tote bag on your shoulder. If it surprises either of them that you actually have books in your bag, they donât say anything, only smiling wider when you bounce from foot to foot.Â
You crumble first. âOkay, why are you guys staring at me?â
San answers your question with a question, sipping at his mug of coffee, âWhere are you going?â
âYou know where Iâm going,â You scoff, crossing the kitchen to fill your water bottle up. Wooyoung parts from the sink to let you get there, but his smile doesnât fall, so pleased your blood starts to boil. âIt is not a big deal. Weâre just friends.â
âSure,â Wooyoung says finally, and you groan, stomping your feet. âHeâs wasting his time helping you study for a test youâre gonna fail anyway because heâs a good friend.â
You scrunch your nose up, âWouldnât you guys do that for me?â
âNo,â they reply at the same time, and you screw your water bottle lid on, scowling.
âWooyoung, you said he was kind. This is him being kind.â
âHeâs trying to get in your pants, like, romantically,â San says, and you want to launch your water bottle at him. âHave you tried asking him? Kissing him, maybe?â
âHe is tutoring me, Choi San.â
âYou need to be tutored in more than economics if youâre this stupid.â
You gasp, affronted, âSince when could boys and girls not be friends?â
Wooyoung snorts, âSince the boy and girl in question both like each other and are being stupid about it.â
It pisses you off even more. They donât know the situation youâre in, the moments the two of you have had where you think something might break through and every single time, nothing happens, and youâre reminded that it will never happen. It feels like theyâre mocking you, and you mumble a âWhatever, goodbye,â that seems to be enough to placate them.
They wave you goodbye, and you choose not to tell them the extent of your hangout to avoid teasing - youâre going to his house. If they caught wind of this, theyâd be buying wedding outfits and booking venues.
However, this could really prove catastrophic for you. The dreams were realistic already, but now if you have the information of what his bedroom looks like stored inside your brain, theyâre only going to get worse - more variety, more realistic.
You think pathetic horny thoughts the entire walk there, nervous and excited at the same time, hands smoothing down your hair over and over as if the gentle fall breeze was going to make you look effortlessly cool. Not only are you going to his house - his room - youâre hyperaware of your body, of every movement you make, the ache between your legs thatâs been lingering since you woke up; it all feels a little too much.Â
When you knock on the front door, it swings open almost immediately.
âMmm- hey, girl,â Mingi says, tall and looming, hair a little messy and curling at the ends, glasses on. His oversized tee is loose on his frame like he just woke up and threw it over his massive shoulders. He looks domestic, like he could be your real boyfriend - itâs exactly the version of him your dreams have been conjuring, and itâs getting to you before youâve even walked through the door. âYouâre right on time, look at that!â
âHey,â Your voice is small, knees feeling weak.
He steps aside to let you in, and his place smells faintly like weed and, well, that scent of Mingi that youâve been focused on since you met him. You can smell what must be someone cooking something delicious too, faintly, and when you focus you can hear his housemate tinkering around in the kitchen.Â
His house looks different in the daytime. The sofas look lived in and comfortable and you can see the music memorabilia properly, rap album records and posters donning the walls. It seems theyâre both very serious about this kind of stuff, and your brain betrays you instantly, noting everything for future dreams.
âRoomâs this way,â he says, already turning down the hallway like he doesnât see you taking everything in. You almost trip over a half-dead potted plant on your way.
His bedroom is smaller than you expect - you wonder if Hongjoong got the bigger room - and itâs neat but not too neat. His bed is made but the pillows are a little smushed, desk cluttered with papers with scribbled lines of writing, packs of rolling papers on his bedside table and empty baggies in the bin. A guitar sits in the corner, obviously well loved and with a large sticker on the corner of the body. He seems content with you looking around, trying to shuffle some papers into a neat pile until he flops down on the floor by his bed, patting the space next to him.
âWe can spread out here,â he motions, brushing his hair out of his face, âI donât have another chair for the desk, Iâm sorry.â
You hesitate for a half second too long before joining him, back against the bed, knees bent. Youâre so close that your legs touch again, and you shiver despite being used to it by now. He doesnât move away.
âSo,â he says, nodding towards your tote bag, âready to actually pass this test? This is our last session.â
You grin, reaching into your bag. âI may surprise you.â
âOh?â He raises a brow, smiling. âNow Iâm excited. Donât tell me you actually-â
You lay out your notes. Youâve not done a lot, but whether he was expecting something amazing or not it doesnât matter, because the noise of awe he makes is all you need. Your colour coded, annotated tabs stick out from the textbook he gave you before, and his teasing expression drops, replaced with genuine surprise.
âYou did.â He murmurs. âYou actually studied.â
âWow,â you say dryly, âyou sound full of confidence in me.â
He laughs, shaking his head, flipping through a few pages, âno, not at all. This is good. Iâm so impressed, yâknow, you didnât even care a few weeks ago?â his eyes scan your writing quickly, âyou did elasticity? On your own? You didnât even text me!â
You nod. âA demon came to me in a dream and taught it to me.â
Mingi pales, fingers paused on the tabs. âPlease donât joke like that.â
You laugh, shaking your head, âNo, I actually just read the books you gave me and watched some videos online. Itâs not too hard when someone explains it to you the way you need.â
Despite your last statement, a warm expression creeps over his face, pride softening his features. âIâm so proud of you.â
The words hit harder than they should. Your throat tightens, and you have to look back down at your notes so he doesnât see the emotion spread across your face.Â
âOkay,â he says, scooting a little closer, âletâs test you. Walk me through this one.â
He points to a practice question. You explain, a little slow at first because you havenât talked about these things out loud before, but once you find your words it gets smoother. He listens intently, eyes on you, not the page; when you finish with a satisfied smile, he nods slowly.
âYeah,â he says, âthatâs it. Well done.â
âOh,â you smile. âReally? Thatâs it?â
âYou nailed it,â He confirms, and you swat at him again. Surely not. âIâm serious! See, it was always there. You just needed it explained in a way that made sense to you.â
Your knee nudges his when he shifts to point at another question, neither of you moving away. The room feels quieter, heavier, like the air has thickened. You keep going, question after question, and each time he needs to prompt you less and less. Sometimes he just watches you scribble away or think, stumbling over your words, his chin resting on his hand in a way that has to make the rings dig into him, expression soft and unreasonable.
At one point, you get stuck, frowning at a graph.
âOkay, wait,â you mutter, but heâs already there.
âRemember what we said about equilibrium?â He says gently, leaning over your shoulder. His arm comes up and behind you, on the mattress. He doesnât seem to realise it, but itâs just like at the library, and you want to scowl at the effect he has on you.Â
Your heart pounds, but you focus, staring at the page. âEquilibriumâŠâ
âYou already know this,â he points at the graph, finger dangerously close to yours, âyou do, I promise. Youâre just second-guessing yourself. Go with your gut.â
It feels like it means a million things at once. You glance up, and heâs closer than you expect - your breath stutters, and he continues looking at the page. His thumb flicks over a few of your tabs, considering.
âYou know, itâs really cute that you put in this much effort,â he says absently, and your brain short circuits, stumbling out a few words that seem to make him snap awake. He finally looks at you, realises how it sounded and for a moment, neither of you move, looking at each other.
He laughs softly, rubbing the back of his neck. âI think,â he says after a moment, âyouâre gonna do way better than you think you are.â
The praise sits between you. Heâs been giving you a lot of it, you think, and it feels like something unspoken is there. Neither of you reach for it, something that doesnât surprise you.Â
Instead, you sit shoulder to shoulder again, letting him show you how to understand economics as the sun dips lower and the room grows dimmer. Nothing happens again, and somehow that makes it worse, causing the knot in your tummy to tighten to an excruciating point.Â
Youâre really not sure whatâs happening anymore.Â
Dealing with vivid sex dreams about a man who doesnât like you back is one thing, but dealing with them while said man is forcing you to study for a test is another thing. Still, if it hadn't been Song Mingi helping you you think you never wouldâve studied, never wouldâve bothered turning up for the test, and you wouldâve been sitting on the same exact cheap plastic chair next semester resitting the entire thing.
You get to class a few minutes before the test starts, a mere few days after your last study session, Wooyoung in tow groaning about how âmessed up the last minute test isâ - you donât have the heart to tell him it was mentioned weeks ago and he just wasnât listening so it canât be considered last minute. Youâre more focused on the crippling fear of you failing this test after all of the work youâve done, the colour coded tabs and annotations that Mingi checked over to make sure you were on the right track, and you know that Mingi is never on time and so wonât be present to look over your notes with you.Â
However, you walk into the room and see a carton of banana milk settled on your desk.
Thereâs only a few other people in here, you, Wooyoung and a few others, but a quick scan shows you Mingi is sitting in his seat and is doing very well at pretending to be occupied. He flips through a folder of notes, and you hover in the doorway, Wooyoung elbowing you frantically.Â
âThatâs-â he gasps, âhe- thatâs-â
Your mind is racing yourself. Bringing one for you before when you studied was one thing, but heâs brought you one before the test that could determine your fate with this class, and heâs acting like itâs nothing, like it hasnât shattered your heart into a million pieces that he actually fucking thought of you, unprompted.
Wooyoung continues spluttering behind you as you continue to your desk, waving at Mingi on his way, and you shoot him a look filled with nerves and want. Heâs even put the straw in ready for you, so when you sit down, you take a grateful sip instantly. Mid-sip, Wooyoung snatches it from your hand to see a scribbled good luck note stuck on the other side, complete with a drawing of a chicken holding his own carton of milk.
âThis is ridiculous,â He mumbles, running a hand through his newly cherry red hair, grabbing the paper between two fingers, âyou two are playing a game that does not need to be played.â
âWhatever that means,â you sigh, snatching it back.
Avoiding staring at the side of your crushâs head, you look back down at the milk, contemplating while the class fills up. Itâs not long until the professor comes in, and lays down the paper tests on everyoneâs desks. Everyone looks nervous apart from Wooyoung, who just generally does not care, and Mingi, who you know is more than prepared.Â
A few minutes go by while she talks, and when the class is allowed to start you look down at the questions and hang on⊠you actually know what this test is talking about. You shoot Mingi a look and heâs already staring at you, smiling with his teeth like he knows exactly what youâre thinking. It hurts your heart, but you smile back, shooting him a nod filled with everything he needs to know.
The test goes by like a breeze, banana milk aiding you along the way. Youâre not convinced youâve done amazing, per se, but you think youâve done well enough to pass. The entire class pours out at the end of the hour before you have the chance to tell Mingi that you think youâve done alright. Still, the professor tells you that sheâll upload everyoneâs grades online later today, and you hope that you have the chance to talk to him later, for him to tell you how well youâve done.Â
Your mind runs with thoughts as Wooyoung yaps the entire way home. He talks about how hard the test was, how annoying the professor is, how youâve probably done just fine with the star studentâs help, and then he pauses in his tracks on the way home.Â
âSpeaking of,â he says, pointing a finger at you, âare you going to Mingiâs party tonight?â
You freeze. Your heart skips a beat, and you lick your lips, swallowing hard, mouth suddenly feeling insanely dry.
He hasnât invited you. If he hasnât invited you to his party, then that definitely means that thereâs nothing between you, that you really have just overanalysed things in your head. It feels like life couldnât be any crueler to you right now.
You swallow again. âI wasnât planning on it,â you say, and Wooyoungâs brow rises, red hair flicking around his jaw due to the wind. He sees right through you. âOkay, fine. I wasnât invited.â
He scowls, âThatâs fucked up, especially with how much time you spend together.â He mumbles, contemplating. The two of you start to walk again before he continues, his hands shoved in his pockets, âwhatever, youâre coming with us anyway.â
âI canât turn up there after he didnât invite me. Youâre deranged.â
âThat is exactly what you did last time.â
He leaves no room to argue, and when you cross the threshold to your front door, San is perched on the sofa waiting for your arrival. Heâs shoving food into his face, cheeks puffed out beyond belief but he perks up upon your return, eyes forming crescents and hands quickly moving to the TV remote to pause whatever heâs got on. Another soppy drama show, you think, since he looks flushed like heâs just been emotional over it.
âHow did the test go?!â He shrieks, stumbling over bare-foot in shorts that show too much thigh. Wooyoungâs eyes linger on his bare skin and you scoff.Â
âIt went fine,â you say, walking in to collapse on the sofa next to the San-shaped dip, âI think I may have scraped a pass. Grades are out later.â
Unfortunately, despite you wanting anything but, you press play on the show that Sanâs watching and it engrosses you. The boys take themselves out to the kitchen, you assume to fix you all something to eat. From what you can gather, the show is an old one about some kids in school trying to become K-Pop idols. It does seem pretty emotional, but the only thing you can cry over right now is a tall rapper that doesnât want you.Â
It only takes a few minutes, but a loud, hysterical laugh from Wooyoung from the other room makes you sigh. Somethingâs happened, and you hear the telltale sound of feet clambering down the hallway to thrust his phone in your face, all bright smiles and too-red hair.
âGrades are out already,â Heâs still laughing, motioning to the block letters, a number sixty on his screen, âhow the fuck did I pass?â
San walks in laughing behind him, hands clapping on your other friendâs shoulders in glee, âI have no idea how you did it but Iâm so proud.â
Your chest clenches. Shit. Theyâre out already? Either thatâs a good sign for the class or a very, very bad sign, but you dig in your pocket and pull your phone out to unlock it. No texts from Mingi, not that you expected any, but you quickly open up your student portal and sign in, clicking through the pages you need to get to the class overview.Â
It takes too long to load. Wooyoung drops into the San-shaped dip and San leans over him, two sets of peering eyes focused on your phone screen, and theyâre both completely silent as they wait. You think Sanâs stopped breathing. The loading circle spins mockingly, over and over, and then the page loads.
Sixty-two.
Wait.
âOh my god, I fucking-â
âYou passed!â Wooyoung screams, shaking you by the shoulders. âDo you know what this means? Shit, baby, Iâm so proud!â
You know what this means. You donât have to resit that class, you donât have to ever bother with a stupid economics class at all ever again, you never have to see that professor again, and you have Song Mingi to thank for it all. It feels like a joint achievement, if anything, and you want to text him and tell him and thank him but - should you? Is that okay?
San and Wooyoung bounce around the living room screaming and shouting so loud that you get brought back to reality.
âI fucking passed,â you breathe in disbelief, and San cheers again.
âHell yeah, you did!â He hugs you, warm and grounding and so nice but not what you want at all. âWeâre so proud. Weâre gonna get drunk, and high, and go have fun at your boyfriendâs party-â
âSan,â Wooyoung pauses, face suddenly straight, shaking his head solemnly, ânot her boyfriend. In fact, he didnât even invite her.â
Sanâs jaw drops. âHe⊠what? But I thought you-â
âYeah, I know.â Wooyoung grumbles. You want them to talk more, eyebrow raising, tossing your phone to the floor haphazardly. Itâs already smashed enough, you donât even think it could smash anymore.
âYou know what?â You narrow your eyes, and both boys shake their heads too quickly. Thatâs weird. âTell me what you know. Now.â
San waves his hand in your face, trying to calm you down, âJust that you two were getting close. I promise, thatâs all Iâve been told.â
âAnyway, it doesnât matter,â Wooyoung shrugs, too easy. It makes you want to scream. âYouâre coming with us anyway, baby. I couldnât care less what Song Mingi thinks his guestlist is.â
âHey.â San says, weak. âHe is actually a really nice guy.â
You groan, flailing your limbs, and they finally shut up - or at least they start talking about something else.
By the time you get to the party, your head spins, more drunk than you ever have been, feeling nice in your pretty dress and your best boots. The boys had insisted that a strong pregame was essential to celebrate yours and Wooyoungâs results, and Wooyoung fixes your makeup for you at the front door, too sober for your liking, thumbs smudging your eyeliner perfectly.
Itâs a little like youâre entering the lionâs den, preparing to be eaten, but your brain hasnât let you fully understand whoâs house youâre entering and the fact that you werenât even originally invited, too tipsy to care.Â
San swings the front door open like he lives there, cheering with a happy, intoxicated flush on his face at whoever he sees first, and you let him introduce you to a few people while you giggle along and smile politely. It turns out a few of these people already know who you are, from the boys mentioning you you presume, so itâs easy to mingle and drink a little more when they offer it.
Your head spins. A little embarrassed, you remind yourself itâs a damn celebration. You never thought you wouldâve passed that class.
Wooyoung drags you along to the kitchen, forcing another drink in your hand, and you get an immense sense of deja vu. This time, heâs learned and itâs a rum and coke he places into your grip, while you feel present physically and not mentally. San catches up to you after a while, joining in on whatever conversation the other man is leading seamlessly, and you nod and hum along like you know whatâs happening, swaying in your spot.
Two big, firm hands land on your shoulders, and Wooyoongâs eyes widen comically at the figure behind you.Â
âYou came!â Itâs slurred, but youâd know that voice anywhere - Mingi, in front of you when you turn around, black tank top tight and cargo trousers baggy. You feel lightheaded for a different reason all of a sudden, eyes scraping down big shoulders, big arms and even bigger thighs, the way his body tightens at his waist, the way he slings an arm around you like it belongs there. He smells of tequila and bad mistakes, and in any other situation youâd question his behaviour but now, inebriated, youâre leaning in, inhaling deeply for more, letting him ramble on in that deep, soothing voice. âIâm so happy you came! I didnât- Iâm sorry I didnât ask you to come, I wasnât sure-â he hiccups, âI wasnât sure youâd want to, yâknow? Itâs not your type of-â
âYouâre right, she probably wouldâve said no,â San manages for you, and you nod along.Â
âThey dragged me here again, âcause of my test results,â you laugh airily, and Mingiâs eyes widen, round and dark, his hands way too present on your body. He moves down to grip your waist, pulling you into him, and you clock that heâs as drunk as you are - you know that heâd never do this sober, but the warmth of his torso against yours is so nice that you canât complain. You see Wooyoung trying to drag San away from the corner of your eye.
Mingi huffs out an impatient breath, staring directly into your eyes. It makes your thighs tremble and he raises an eyebrow as if to prompt you, âYour test. How did you do? Why didnât you-â he swallows hard, trying to catch his breath, âwhy didnât you tell me?â
âWhy didnât you invite me, for real?â You blurt, a bit bolder now that youâre alone - perhaps itâs knowing that Wooyoung canât see you now, but definitely due to the liquid confidence flowing through you. He at least has the decency to look guilty at your words, one hand coming to the back of his neck.
âI- Iâm sorry,â He says earnestly, bouncing from one foot to another, too full of energy and the tequila, âI should have. There was no other- no other reason, I just really didnât think itâd be your scene.â
You frown. Heâs probably right, but he doesnât know that youâd do anything, go anywhere for him. âI- uhm,â you sip your drink, eyes flickering to the back door. Itâs ajar, people milling in and out past you both but like before, the kitchen is quieter than everywhere else. You manage to look back at him, voice quiet when you speak, âI passed, Mingi. I managed to- well, I barely passed the class, but I passed. Thank you for-â
Youâre cut off by his arms wrapping around you. He shouts with glee, shaking you around in his grip and causing your drink to splash a bit. If heâs bothered by the liquid leaking on his skin he doesnât show it, pulling back from you with a huge grin that you canât help but mirror, issues forgotten. Heâs jostled your bag off your shoulder, and you scoop it back up as he gets noticeably more excited, smile growing wider.Â
âDo you know how proud of you I am?â He gushes, eyes honest, and you melt. Your heart soars, and you smile so wide it hurts your cheeks - this is all you had wanted. Mingi pulls you back into another hug.Â
This time, it lasts longer and he holds you close, letting you feel his warmth and you wrap your arms around his middle, content. Itâs nice, his dark hair tickling your neck as he nuzzles into the crook there - you hear him take a deep breath, holding you closer, and it makes you feel satisfied, somewhat. If this is all you can get, this is okay, youâre sure you can deal with this.
But Mingi pulls away, and something in his eyes tells you despite the alcohol, he knows whatâs going on, knows what he wants, knows that youâre feeling it too.
âIâm so proud of you, so fucking proud,â His chest heaves. He smells of tequila but beneath it, you can smell him, and it makes you lean in closer, head dizzy. âCan I justâŠ?â
âJust what?â You ask, fingers curling around his forearms in the hopes it grounds you - it makes you worse, letting out a whimper at the feeling of his skin on yours that you canât quite hide, âMingi, t-tell me.â
He licks his lips, shaking his head as if to get rid of some of his thoughts, dark hair tousling and he looks so handsome, looking down at you over his sunglasses with uncertainty. It looks like he wants to say too many things at once, with no clue on where to start.
âCan I kiss you?â He asks, and your breath hitches. What? âI- Iâve wanted to kiss you for so long.â
Nodding before you can question why, when, what or how, Mingi leans forward, nose nudging yours, finally pressing his lips against you. Itâs as satisfying as you always thought it would be, and heâs nothing but enthusiastic - heâs immediately letting his tongue push between your lips and into your mouth so far it pushes against your teeth, like heâs trying to swallow you whole. His fists grip into the fabric of your dress and pull you into him, moving down to grip onto your waist and keep you close, afraid you may try to run away now that heâs finally gotten you.
You kiss him back with just as much enthusiasm, placing wet, open mouthed kisses on his lips when he tries to pull away because you canât help yourself - is this really happening, for real? He tastes of tequila, jager and Mingi, and you open your mouth in a jagged moan for more.Â
When he sees how impatient you are, he cracks. He pushes you against the wall and forces his tongue back into your mouth, moaning, gravelly and deep from his chest; your legs start to tremble, and he reaches down with a strong arm and hooks one of your legs around his waist.
âOh,â You moan at the way he moves you around easily, his heavy breaths spilling into your mouth. Heâs impatient, fingers scrambling at the bare skin of your leg, touching you as much as he can in a split second like heâs still scared itâll be over soon. He rocks forward with his hips and meets your core, clothed but youâre sure he can feel how wet you are just from being in his presence, finally feeling his lips against yours for real and not in a dream. âOh, shit-â
âSo pretty,â He murmurs, kissing you again, accidentally rutting against your cunt once, twice, before he forces himself to stop. You can barely focus, unbelieving that heâs real, right in front of you, touching you and kissing you like this - but youâll be damned if youâre not getting answers. âSo gorgeous, lovely girl,â he breathes, urgent, eager, âso smart, so proud, mm-â
He moves away again, sucking over your neck, and you take the moment to speak hoarsely, âMingi, what- what is this? Whatâs⊠whatâs going on here?â
âI-â He freezes. His lips hover at your skin before he pulls away just enough to look at you, palms unclenching and clenching at your waist like he doesnât know what to do with them. â⊠Isnât it obvious?â He asks quietly. âDo I have to say it?â
Thereâs no smugness or cockiness in his tone anymore, only hesitation, like heâs standing on the edge of something and afraid heâll fall if he says it out loud. You read his face for something, anything that tells you how he feels, but all you see is need, his eyebrows knitting together in pure desire - it just confuses you more.Â
âNo,â You say, even though itâs a lie and you wish you did know, kissing the corner of his mouth once again - hoping it channels the gentleness and encouragement that you need to show, not the nerves of wanting something so seriously that it feels like it may shatter your insides. It seems to work, because he kisses you again, rings biting into your thigh when he grips you firmer.
Hands moving to Mingiâs hair, you pull lightly at the strands, bringing him as close to you as possible. He groans at the slight pain, nose nudging yours as he devours your mouth, lips so plump and overwhelming that you try your best to kiss back but are left whimpering into his mouth. He controls it, just as you imagined he would, moving you this way and that; he nips at your bottom lip, prompting you to open your mouth and let him massage his tongue over yours, almost useless while he consumes you.Â
You think your dreams are going to be way too vivid from here on out, overwhelmed with the knowledge of what he actually tastes like and how he actually holds you - unsure but desperate. Heâs good at this too, and you curse yourself; heâs perfect, heâs everything, and this is probably going to be all youâll get, a drunken kiss in his kitchen.
âWe can set up the beer pong in here-âÂ
Mingi springs from you like heâs been burned. His cheeks are flushed, lips slick with a mixture of your spit and he spins around to see Hongjoong, looking just as guilty as he did in the last party when he interrupted you but without his tiara, jaw slack, shocked, round eyes flitting between the two of you.
âOr not.â He offers. âSorry, I didnât realise you two had finally-â
Mingi starts to babble loudly, drowning out the shorter man, hands waving and mouth making some incoherent high pitched noises that have your eyebrows knitted in confusion. Your chest is still heaving against his damn kitchen wall as you try to catch your breath, yanking down the hem of your dress and he continues babbling - you just about catch the end, when he says, clear as day, âThere is nothing going on here.â
Your heart starts to race. Right. You knew that, really, but - well, for a second, youâd hoped that it really was going to be something, forgetting that youâre drunk and so is he and youâre still standing in his kitchen ramrod straight like youâve been electrocuted. He didnât even have the decency to take you away to his room - why would he bother, you think, damning yourself for letting your brain run away with hope and excitement. He could have hidden you away from prying eyes and Hongjoong, who seems to interrupt anything good youâve ever been given by the world, but he didnât.Â
It was nothing. An accident, even. Something you shouldnât have ever dreamed of.
Speaking of Hongjoong, he huffs, folding his arms over his chest. âIt didnât look like-â
âIt was nothing,â You cut him off this time, voice a lot more stable than you feel. You donât look at Mingi, but from the corner of your eye you see something written on his face, something guilty and upset and like heâs at war with himself, and you canât be bothered to spend any more time trying to figure him out tonight. âIt wasnât anything. Hey, have you seen San and Wooyoung?â
Hongjoong nods, a small pout on his lips. âLiving room. Seriously, sorry about that, I-â
âIt was nothing,â You repeat, and he nods again, accepting it - finally. You hear some commotion as you turn your back, hushed whispers that again, you donât have the energy to try to decipher.
Beelining towards the living room, youâre pleased that San and Wooyoung can tell just by the look on your face that youâre ready to leave. They spring up from the sofa, drinks discarded, arms coming to your frame to usher you to a quieter place - it ends up being outside, in their front lawn, and it happens before you even process itâs coming.
Gagging, your body folds, and you vomit right on your crushâs front lawn, just about avoiding your nice boots. Wooyoung stifles his laugh - not very well - and San elbows him behind you, unamused, hand rubbing up your back.Â
âThatâs alright, get it up,â He soothes. âJeez, we shouldnât have let you drink this much. Letâs get you home, yeah?â
âI wanna know what the hell happened,â Wooyoung argues, and the other man sighs loudly in response, making him groan. âFine. Weâll talk when we get home.â
The walk home is longer than you remember, made even worse by how your tummy still flips. Youâre not sure if itâs from the alcohol or the kiss or Hongjoong interrupting or it being nothing or some fucked up combination of all of it but you hold back sobs the whole way home, arms enveloping your middle until you finally cross the threshold into your house.
The boys move quickly into the kitchen. Wooyoung still eyes you, unimpressed that heâs left in the dark but he starts to fill up three plain glasses of water, hopefully to calm all of you down but San simply waits, arms folded over a broad chest, eyebrow raised until you finally decide to speak.
âHe didnâtâŠâ You breathe. Your handbag drops to the floor unceremoniously, lipgloss and compact clattering out of the bag, and San moves to pick them up before you can even ask him to. Wooyoung moves to you, quick across the kitchen to put his arms around your frame. âI donât think itâs like that between us. He- Mingi didnât say he liked me, or anything, we just⊠Well, we kissed, butâŠâ
Tears are starting to form in your eyes. San and Wooyoung share a look, and San appears bewildered, âWhat do you mean?â He shoves your things back into your bag, pushing it onto the table, eyes soft when he turns to you, âhoney, I canât put this any simpler. You are awful at economics, and the man offered to tutor you. Even Woo wouldnât waste his time like that just for some sex.â
âItâs true,â Wooyoung says, hands gentle where they soothe over your shoulders, âI feel it in my gut that he likes you back. Really.â
âThen,â you sniffle, âwhy didnât he-â
âTomorrow, no alcohol, you and Mingi are having a conversation,â he urges, âall the cards on the table. Iâm sick and tired of seeing you pining.â
You sigh, âIt wonât solve anything. He doesnât like me like that. He canât like me like that, I know it.â
âWould you listen to yourself?â Wooyoung laughs, âhe had his tongue in your mouth less than an hour ago. Youâre drunk and sad, he was drunk and Mingi. You both need to get some sleep and talk tomorrow.â
Turning to San, you expect a different response, but he gives you the same look - slightly amused at your unneccessary plight, but very firm. Tomorrow, youâll be embarrassed that you got so drunk over passing a test that you made out with your crush and cried in your kitchen to your friends, but right now youâre too tired and sad to care. He hands you your bag, items back in safely, and the other man ushers you to your bedroom, not minding at all that youâre sniffling and whining the entire way there.Â
The pretty boots you chose for tonight are pulled off by Wooyoung while you sniffle and drizzle on the end of your bed. He doesnât seem to mind, letting you mess up your mascara and your eyeliner in dark tracks down your cheeks until he sighs so loudly, seriously that it shocks you. He throws your boots on the floor by the door.Â
âPromise me,â he says, and then storms over to place his hands on your shoulder. You think heâs still a little drunk too, but he says it with so much conviction that your tears stop in their tracks, eyes round and vulnerable as you look up at him. âPromise me that once you wake up in the morning, you will talk to the man.â
You sniffle, folding your arms over your chest like a child, âDonât want to anymore.â
âBarefaced lie,â San snorts, and you blink through wetness to see him standing at the door. Was he always there? âSweetheart, youâve been making this entirely more complicated than it needs to be.â
Wooyoung pulls your dress over your head and slides a big, oversized t-shirt straight back over you - you think itâs one of his, the hem too stretched and the print a little stained with hair dye. âTomorrow, full honesty,â He points a finger in your face that makes you go cross-eyed. âPromise me. No more lies. No more beating around the bush. Everything gets said.â
âI promise, Wooyo,â you garble, although now that youâve stopped crying, all you can feel is exhaustion taking over your body.Â
Your body hits your mattress before you recognise youâre falling, and Wooyoung tuts, covering you with your blanket. Everythingâs so comfortable all of a sudden, and you feel a hand move a pillow underneath your head to support it - it feels like a damn cloud.
The last thing you register is Sanâs laugh and the sound of a camera shutter before you pass out.
Itâs almost annoying this time, after the almost-confession.Â
Mingi heaves deep, staggered breaths into your neck, wearing the same outfit from the party last night - baggy cargos, too many chains, a tight tank top. A bead of sweat drips from already damp, long, dark hair, down the tempting curve of his neck and youâre already won over, too desperate for him to care, reaching up to drag your tongue up his skin.Â
âFu-uck, thatâs it,â He moans, deep, gravelly, hands determined where they pull down your shorts. Youâre left in your panties, edges of your vision fuzzy with your dream and heâs quick to crowd into your space again, thick thighs forcing yours apart. He makes quick work of his trousers, undoing the button and forcing them past his ass just enough to rut his boxer clad erection against your pussy. âThere, there you go honey, fuck, move against me-â
You do, writhing and bucking your hips to grind your swollen clit against his bulge over and over, letting him move from your neck to your lips. He kisses your mouth finally, and fuck you know what heâs like now, enthusiastic and all consuming. His tongue forces into your mouth just like it did earlier, when this was real. His lips are slick against yours because heâs so messy with it, desperate and bucking against you like he canât get enough.Â
You canât, either, and with desperate fingers moving to his boxers frantically you beg, âMingi, please, inside, wanâit-â
He groans, long and broken, rings biting into your skin when he grips your hips and pulls you down hard against him, âYeah, want it inside, my girl? Can you take it for me?â
My girl. Your head spins, your hands scrambling for purchase against the sheets, his arms, anything, finally gripping wet strands and tugging. Mingi whines this time, too high pitched to be normal, and you struggle to direct his attention to you until his fingertips curl around the waistband of your panties and pull down. He yanks them off your ankle, your leg hanging in the air when he moves back over you and thrusts down again, into your newly exposed cunt, wet and wanting.
âAnswer me,â Heâs determined, rocking against you so steadily youâre worried you might cum from just this, âcan you? Tell me you want me to fuck you, baby, please, tell me- tell me you can take it.â
âI can t-take it,â you cry out without a beat, and he nods, meeting your lips again, âinside, inside-â
It seems to work to convince him, and he leans back on muscled thighs. You take him in, the broad expanse of his shoulders and the way he tapers in at the waist, down to the beginning of his Calvin boxers.Â
He pulls up the fabric of his tank top just enough to let you see it, the beginning of his happy trail, and itâs never gone this far before. You pull yourself up onto your elbows, excited but nerves going haywire, spread eagle and naked from the waist down, and he finally starts to pull at the waistband.Â
Down, down, and the smattering of hair at his base has you gasping, toes curling where your legs lay relaxed over his, and you see the base, and then-
You wake up with shorts so wet that you know youâve orgasmed in your sleep, and now youâre certain itâs gone too far.
Without needing to make yourself cum like every other morning one of these vivid dreams occurred, you have a clear head and can only think that something has got to give. Looking back on what your friends said last night, it feels right that you and Mingi should talk today, completely sober and with clear judgement. Itâs probably the best move.Â
Youâd be embarrassed of your behaviour if you didnât know that Wooyoung and San loved you no matter what, and also they know better than anyone that Song Mingi has been giving you a tough fucking time.
Although the idea has your stomach twisting a little with anxiety, itâs time to be brave, and you roll over to grab your phone⊠only to see that Mingi has had the exact same idea.Â
[9:13am] mingi: hey, we should talk. should i come over?
You blink at the text. Sighing, groaning, and sighing again, itâs obvious you have to reply - it was only sent a half hour ago - so you send a quick okay and crawl out of bed. Youâre hungover, sure, with a soft pain in the back of your head but the determination takes over anything else you feel.Â
Everything feels a little melancholic as you walk around, back hunched over, but you have to know even if it hurts you. You do not want to go another day with any uncertainty.Â
It only takes fifteen minutes for a knock at your door to sound. Itâs given you time to get yourself ready, in another cute loungewear set with simple makeup and hair just barely brushed, and when you open the door Mingi looks worse than you feel.Â
Heâs dressed a lot more casually than normal, beanie pulled over his head tight and jumper oversized and hanging off of his frame. A fleeting thought asks you how big itâd be on you, and you shake your head, forcing it out of your brain. When you donât say anything, he awkwardly tugs at his tote bag on his shoulder, pulling at the bottom of his beanie like heâs got too much energy in his body and doesnât know what to do with it.
He looks so cosy and domestic that you think that you might just burst into tears in his face.
âItâs nice to see you,â your voice warbles, and Mingi scratches his neck awkwardly, pre-roll in his other hand. That tells you all you need to know. âShould we go to my room?â
âYeah, I think thatâs best,â He sighs, looking more nervous than youâve ever seen him and you groan internally. Heâs normally the picture of confidence, save for the few times you two have⊠well, you still donât know.Â
This is going to end worse than you thought it would, you think, perhaps even getting to the point where you canât even be friends anymore. Still, Wooyoung made you swear youâd be honest to the man, and you try not to break promises, especially not when itâs one of your best friends.
Leading him up the stairs, you take him to your room, and he falls on the bed like itâs his own, pulling that same teddy he likes onto his lap, running a hand over his face in exasperation. When he pulls his beanie off, his hair springs up fluffy and brown and cute, and all you can do is hand him the ashtray wordlessly so that you donât scream.Â
He pulls out the same pink lighter you saw him have last time, burning the end of the jointâs paper off and waiting for it to level. Youâre not expecting him to speak yet, settling on your bed across from him with your knees pulled up, picking at a loose thread to avoid staring at him, but he swallows hard and sighs.
âI shouldnât have kissed you yesterday,â he says, and your heart drops. âIâm sorry. I shouldâve- I shouldâve talked to you first, explained how I feel. Itâs been killing me. I especially shouldnât have kissed you when we were both so drunk, but I-â
âI clearly enjoyed it as much as you,â Honesty, and you try to smile, but it doesnât reach your ears. Mingi eyes you like he knows, taking the first drag of the joint. âItâs okay. I understand, it was just a drunken kiss and itâs not-â
âWhat?â Mingi laughs incredulously, âis that really what you think? Do you think I kiss people like that normally?â
You falter. Well, no, youâd hope not, but you hadnât really had anything to go by.
A longer drag, and he eyes you again, before it seems to dawn on him and his lips curl up in amusement. His tongue drags over his teeth, eyes looking you up and down. Fuck. âYou really have no idea, do you?â He hands it to you, leaning back on his hands on the bed, âIâm obsessed with you. Why do you think I asked to tutor you? I mean, no offence, but you were kind of a-â
âA lost cause, yeah, I know,â you inhale. Then, it clicks in your brain, and you blink at him. âSorry, youâre obsessed with me?â
âFor as long as I can remember,â honest, frank, straight. Your head spins, but you inhale a little more, trying to formulate your thoughts better. âSince before we even spoke. I thought thatâs why the guys brought you to my party in the first place.â
Hold on. You ash the joint, handing the ashtray and the smoking stick back to Mingi, âWooyoung and San knew?â
He shrugs. His cheeks are pink, from nerves or the weed you donât know, but he carries on speaking like he needs to get it all out in one go or he never will. His eyes avert from you, fiddling with the long drawstrings of his sweatpants, âI donât know about them. Hongjoong and Yunho knew, thatâs why they were acting so fuckinâ weird.â He chuckles breathlessly. âTrying to sell me out, honestly, and this whole thing has been so embarrassing. I tried so hard to get close to you and then- then I fucked it up by not being able to tell you how I feel. Iâm not very good at that.â
It makes you pause. Mingi, all along, has been going through somewhat of a similar dilemma as you - and suddenly everything makes sense. The banana milk, the studying, the way he spoke to you at the first party, the way heâs been speaking to you - youâre talking before you even realise you are.Â
Honesty, Wooyoung said. Youâll stick to that.
âMingi, this is going to sound crazy, but Iâve had a lot of these really frequent, vivid dreams about you in the past month or so,â you say, breathless, âsome before we even started talking to each other."
As soon as it comes out of your mouth, you feel like dying. Mingi doesnât stop smoking though. He even smokes more, inhaling longer, nodding with every word you say before he finally seems to process it. The flush seems to extend down to his neck, and he yanks at his jumper, pulling at the collar to get air - once the jointâs in your hold, he clears his throat, gulps a few mouthfuls of water down from a bottle he pulls from his tote bag. âI- Thatâs good to know. Normal dreams, or dirty?â
Heâs⊠okay with it? Heâs actually being way more casual about this than you thought he would be. This is the same guy that gets freaked out when he thinks about the concept of demons. You finish the joint and snuff it out, discarding the ashtray to your bedside table.
âA bit of both. Mostly dirty, but like, we were together in them. A little domestic,â You admit. He cracks a grin, showing those teeth that you fell for, and you canât help but smile back. It is a little funny. A little crazy too, though. âYou donât think itâs weird?â
Mingi shrugs. âNot really, itâs not your fault. You mustâve just had a crush on me too. You know we donât choose our dreams? Scientists say itâs just stuff from our subconscious, I read about it online.â
No way. You blink. You blink again, and heâs still there in your room sitting with you, the guy from your dreams, grinning crookedly and looking ever so delighted with himself.Â
âOr,â He coughs. âIt could have been the lines I was writing trying to manifest you in my life. Maybe it worked.â
âMingi⊠thatâs fucking crazy.â
He swallows hard. His eyes are a little red from the weed, but the flush on his cheeks is from solely nerves now, you know. âWell, I had to do something from a distance. Youâre hard to approach - yâknow, you seem shy - but youâre really cool. And so fuckinâ pretty, you must know that, right?â He huffs out a quiet laugh, embarrassed, âIâve definitely had dreams about you, too.â
âItâs not shy,â You say softly. âIâm just awkward.â
Thereâs something fragile in the way heâs positioned now, something you havenât seen in Mingi yet - something hopeful but hesitant, like heâs worried heâll scare you off any second - itâs different to last night with no confidence from his rum. When his brows lift, eyes flickering with uncertainty because you havenât said enough yet, you realise that you never ever want to be the reason he doubts himself again.Â
âMingi,â you say, steady even though your heart is racing, âI think Iâve been obsessed with you for a long time. Like, a long time. After this, you never have to doubt that.â You inhale, âNot having you was killing me. The dreams felt so real, and I fell for you so quickly but the way you acted around me⊠It was so up and down. I didnât know if you felt anything at all, or if it was-â
Heâs moving mid sentence to meet your lips with his, decisive and a little desperate. He tastes like weed and Mingi, enticing, and you melt into it, following his mouth without thinking - how did you hold yourself back from jumping him last night, when heâs real, here, in front of you?Â
His lips are buttery, grounding against yours, and when you reach out to touch his arms he finally exhales and pulls you closer, yanking you onto his lap on your bed with his hands at your waist.
He mumbles against your mouth, words stumbling out between breaths, âI tried- I did try to tell you how I felt, I just- fuck, I donât know how to-â
âI know,â You manage, and this time you really do. Two people circling each other, both too excited, too unsure, mistaking intensity for indifference. âI thought⊠I thought you just wanted something physical after last night, maybe, I didnât know.â
âGod, no,â He chuckles, throwing his head back for a second with closed eyes. âI just get so excited I donât shut up, and none of what I say ever comes out right.â
âI understand,â Your hand strokes over his hair. Itâs said with purpose this time - you really mean it. With Mingi, it was never fear; itâs excitement, pure and unfiltered, knocking everything else out of order, and now that he has permission to show it he canât stop himself.
The kisses he lays on your neck prove it to you that this is possible, you and him. Itâs possible and itâs happening right now, your thighs clenching around his and hands moving to roam down his body, over his broad shoulders and firm chest as he sucks on your neck.Â
âFuck,â Mingi breathes. âI feel like Iâm dreaming. Youâre unreal, baby.â
âIâm right here,â You laugh, because itâs insane he would say that to you, knowing that his mere presence has you feeling like youâre away with the fairies and has been for a while now. âIâm right here, Min, fuck, do you wanna- get this off, please-â
He pulls back and tugs his oversized jumper off by the back of the neck, launching it somewhere in the room and leaning back for you to follow his body - you do, chasing his heat, but with your eyes down. The removal exposed planes of tan skin, muscles that rival the ones youâd fantasised about. Itâs soft to touch too, satin under your fingers as you slide your fingers down the muscles of his tummy.
âPretty,â You murmur, and he shivers under your touch, breath hitching. âYou are. Iâve- Iâve thought about how you look, but this is even better, Min.â
âOh, baby,â He moans at your words, hands sliding under your shirt and onto your skin. He gives you a hesitant look, and you nod, before heâs sliding them upwards and cupping your breasts over your bra. He lets them sit in his hands for a bit, kissing over your jaw again before he slides his fingers underneath the lace. Theyâre a little cold, and when his fingertips hit your nipples you shiver, further collapsing into his hold, but he takes your weight easily. âSo good, fuck, they feel so- can I- can you take your shirt off? I want to see.â
You pull it off over your head quickly, baring your bralette and Mingiâs palms situated under the fabric, and he moans, quickly sliding his hands out to look at them. He exhales, eyes fixated as he starts to pull at your nipples, and you donât know if youâre just sensitive or if itâs because itâs him, but your spine arches into him with a gentle noise.Â
âFuck, so pretty, so pretty. Like that, thatâs okay?â He murmurs, and you nod eagerly, making him pinch them again, on the line between pleasure and pain, âtell me more about your dreams. What was I like?â
His fingers flick over the nubs until they yank at the lace, hard and swollen, and he pulls your bralette over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. You gasp when his head ducks down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, your hand going to dark strands to keep him there - but you remember he asked you something.
âYou⊠talked a lot,â you admit, embarrassed but he hums around your nipple, encouraging. You whimper and continue, writhing, âYou were nice, but- dirty. Pervy. Am I- was I right?â
Mingi pops off your bud. âWell, your dreams sound a lot more innocent than mine,â he grins easily, lips slick and cheeks pink, âI had you bent over my desk with one of my songs playing. So yeah, I guess I am a pervert.â
It shocks you so bad that you donât make a noise when he moves you, pushing you back on his dark bedsheets and moving over your body. Heâs so big above you, just like you imagined, using one strong arm for support and leaning down to kiss you filthy again.Â
He tangles his tongue with yours again as he fiddles with the button of your jeans, eventually managing to flick it open and tug the zipper down. You wrestle out of the denim underneath him, giggling when it gets caught at your knees; Mingi lets out an amused huff, smoothing your hair down like he did in the library, fond.Â
Eventually, youâre left in your underwear wanting him to strip, too, but he pushes your legs apart. âThis- this is okay?â He asks again, against your lips, and moans when you nod, âI didnât want to last night, when weâd been drinking. I wanted it to be special, baby, I-â
âI know,â you say, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, landing on his lips when his skin begins to heat in embarrassment, âbut I think if you donât fuck me soon I might die.â
âWeâre not drunk now,â his breath is impatient, heavy, and his spare hand moves down to brush against your panties, where the cotton is slick between your legs, âIâm high as hell though, and this pussy feels wet. Gâna let me touch it?â
Fuck. Your head spins, like the high is returning but stronger because itâs Mingi; youâre finally here, beneath him, his to touch, his to hold. âYou can touch it,â you heave, âI wanna touch you too. Please, I think about it so much, I wanna- wanna see it.â
Mingiâs face crumbles in a desperate noise, but he doesnât move from his position, kissing you again like he canât get enough of it.
When he speaks, you can hear him holding back, voice strained, âNot yet, baby. Let me taste it first, yeah? Then you can, I promise.â
âOkay,â you breathe against him, squirming when he rubs his fingertips over your panties, right where your clit is. He feels the pudge and brings his thumb down over it a few times, firm, and you let out a strangled whine. You hope San and Wooyoung are out, but you didnât even bother checking the house before you let your man in. Your man - your breath stutters, and all of a sudden youâve stopped caring. âOkay, fuck, please Mingi, want you, touch me properly-â
His fingers hook into your panties and yank them down your legs. Your legs rest over his, relaxed, toes curling into his thighs when youâre finally exposed to him. Despite the insecurity biting at your gut again from being so bare and vulnerable in front of him, he quells it quickly, wiggling down the bed onto his chest to examine you closely.
âLook at that, doll, so fucking wet,â He murmurs, thumbs coming up to spread your folds. They stick together with your arousal, something youâd be embarrassed about if he didnât moan so loud at the sight, plush lips parting and eyebrows knitting together. âFuck. Gâna eat it now, âkay? If you need me to stop just-â
You force him into your pussy by his hair, and he moans at the first taste. His fat tongue swipes through your folds, impatient, and he licks up to flick it over the pudge of your clit, spreading your arousal everywhere. Itâs so sensitive that you whimper and writhe underneath him, but he doesnât seem swayed, burying his face into your cunt and making out with it viscerally, messy, claiming.
Itâs just like your dream - except better. Heâs pulling you down by your hips, rings biting into your skin, whining into your folds but heâs messier - he sucks all of your arousal into his mouth and spits it back on your pussy just to lick it up again. Your pussy is clinging to his lips by strings of sticky arousal and he flicks his tongue over your clit to hear you moan loudly, incomprehensible.Â
âYouâre- how are you so fucking good at this, fuck, please, more-â
âTold you, Iâve been thinking about it for a while,â he states matter of factly, lips brushing against you, and you can see your slick has spread all over his chin, up to his nose. He doesnât look bothered - he looks like he enjoys it, voice slurred, eyes half lidded, tongue licking over his lips, down to his chin. âThis pussyâs fucking pretty. Tasty, too. Iâm gonna have to eat her all the time, okay?â
He rubs over your clit, looking up at you expectantly. Heâs waiting for a response, but you canât focus, legs twitching at the stimulation. âF-uck, Mingi-â
âMm, what do you say, baby?â He says, voice lower, and you keen. He chuckles in disbelief, shaking his head, rubbing a little faster, your pussy making an embarrassing wet noise with his movements. âAre you gonna let daddy come and eat her whenever he wants?â
âOh my god, oh my god,â you babble, squirming, desperate for him to eat you again and heâs still fucking laughing at you, eyes full of admiration. âYes, pleasepleaseplease daddy, you can eat it whenever- whenever you want!â
âGood giiiirl,â He hums, diving back in again. Heâs just as vigorous and youâre panting, making way too much noise, gripping and tugging at his hair and bucking into his mouth when he groans in delight at the pain.Â
âHaa, fuck, Mingi- baby, baby, âs so good-â
He slides his fingers inside, past the resistance of your hole, curling them up instantly. Itâs a stretch so quickly but feels so good, you squeal, humping your hips down onto him. Heâs trying to find your g-spot, and it only takes a moment of prodding and pressing for you to make an incoherent noise, hips bucking. He taps a few times, teasing it, and you canât shut up, gripping the pillow, eyes crossing in pleasure. âNoisy girl. Cuntâs fucking noisy too, talkinâ to me. Can you hear that? Sheâs telling me I own her now.â
âMingi- f-fuck, you canât say-â
âWhat? Donât you like daddy talking to you?â Heâs suddenly over you again, wet mouth forming a lazy grin. His fingers still pump into you and you reach to grab at his wrist, silver bracelets jingling with his movements. Your eyes water, hips grinding a rhythm into him. âI think you do, âcause youâre made for me, arenât you? Fuckinâ unreal,â he hisses, looking down at where your cunt leaks down his skin, âthis hole clenches around me when I talk, askinâ me for more. My hole, yeah?â
âCanât- canât be yours if you havenât fucked it-â
âShush, pretty, donât be cheeky,â His tone is firm, but he kisses against your lips with affection. âGonna fuck it. Gonna fuck it so many times it remembers the shape of my cock and canât cum on anything else, but I want you to cum like this for me first. Can you?â
Youâre nodding before he finishes, riding his fingers, and his thick thumb reaches up to flick over your clit. âI can, fuck, daddy, I can!â
âYeah, moan my fucking name as you cum, thereâs a good girl,â He kisses you again, dirtier this time, swallowing your moans with wet lips. You can taste yourself, and itâs that which does you in, Mingi pulling away just quick enough to hear the broken whine of his name that falls from your mouth. He groans back at you, rubbing your clit slower through your orgasm to drag it out, fingers curling to let you feel the shocks from your special spot just once more.Â
Heâs too good. Itâs like he knows your body already and you canât understand it, but you let yourself cream and gush on his fingers with many babbled words and strangled noises until youâre eventually done. You think you see his fingers stick together when he pulls them out but he sucks them clean quick enough, offering you a crooked, toothy smile as if he just couldnât help himself when you let out a shaky breath at the sight. He rolls off of you onto his side, leaning his head on his hand all satisfied.
âHow was that?â He asks, cute as ever, and you think you see him fucking blushing. Heâs so good, and fuck, heâs yours now. âWas it like your dreams?âÂ
Your chest is still heaving, but you lean over to give him a kiss in response. His hand smooths over your lower tummy and you swoon, too happy, too desperate all over again despite the fact his fingers have just been all over and inside your pussy. âMm, it looked intense, I liked doing that to you,â Heâs getting excited again too - you think you can tell now, when his voice starts to pick up, airy, âyouâre so fucking pretty, look so sexy when you cum, I just wanna-â
Furrowing your eyebrows, you glance down to his sweatpants. Mingi is definitely still hard, although thereâs a small wet patch on his clothed bulge that you think heâs created without realising and fuck, your pussy is throbbing again. You can see how big he is through the clothes, much bigger than you ever thought, ever dreamed of, and it must be aching. âLetâs do more. I wanna do more with you.â
Mingi definitely blushes now, but heâs climbing on top of you again with that look in his eyes again. âYeah? I want to do more too, youâre so gorgeous when you cum. Do you think you can you do that on my cock?â
Heâs a little impatient, pushing his sweatpants down with one hand and leaning above you with his other. You try to look down but he tuts at you, making you look back at his face straight away, and you link your arms over his shoulders. âUm- maybe? Iâll try, shit.â
âThink you will,â He kicks his bottoms off and wriggles out of his boxers, too, and when you look again he doesnât stop you. He even leans back to make sure your view isnât obscured. Desperate, you assume, but shit it is big.Â
His muscled arm swings as he jerks it back to full hardness leisurely, and you were right, it leaks heavily in his palm. The lubrication adds to the sensation and he lets out a sigh. His cock is long but thick too, and thereâs a smattering of dark hair at his base that makes you want to press your nose into it and inhale as you deepthroat him. Youâre quickly distracted, though, because he shuffles forward and positions his cockhead at your hole. It tries to suck him in already, gummy and wet and pliant after your orgasm.Â
He pecks your lips again, addicted, nuzzling you with his sharp nose. He looks so pretty on top of you, plush lips pillowing over your cheeks and your chin and your nose, his black hair tickling your forehead. Your belly burns - you donât think youâve ever wanted anything this bad, and youâve known that a while, but itâs real now, happening, not a dream although it still feels like one.
His tip catches in your folds again, and you feel him shiver on top of you but he doesnât stop looking at you, kissing you again, over and over before he speaks hoarsely, âCondom?âÂ
You shake your head. No fucking way. Youâre on the pill for health reasons, and youâll be damned if youâre having anything between you and this man when youâve finally gotten hold of him. âRaw, please, Iâm on the pill, wanna- wanna feel you, all of it.â
âShit, you are a fucking dream, baby,â he groans, finally, finally swiping his cock through your folds. You think heâs finally going to put it in but he uses your arousal to slick his cock, letting you feel the pressure of it against you. âThink itâll fit? Youâre- baby, youâre so fucking tiny down here, could barely get my fingers in- oh shit, trying to suck me in.â
You try to squirm, but heâs so overpowering you can barely move underneath him. Thereâs a burning feeling in your tummy like you need it or youâll die, and heâs still playing with you. He swipes his cock through your folds over and over, watching the way his tip disappears a little into the slick mess. You canât help it - âMingi, please put it in!â
âFuck, âm so sorry, baby,â He grunts, sounding like he isnât the least bit sorry, repositioning himself on his knees so that heâs more comfortable. You see him pull at his cock, moving the foreskin down to expose the tip, leaking pearly precum that makes your mouth water, ââs too fucking pretty, all creamy like that, hadta play a bit. Gonna take it all for me now? Itâs not gonna be too big?â
âMingi, please- please, Iâve thought about this for so long, just- please, oh my god- oh, oh-â
Youâre cut off by the deep, gravelly groan he lets out as he finally pushes inside. It slides in easily from how soaked you are, but itâs still a stretch, so thick and hard that your pussy throbs and tries to gush around him, begging for more.
âPlease,â you gasp wetly, and he gives you the first inch. Itâs barely anything, not compared to the whole size of him, but you moan and he grins in satisfaction. His tongue licks over his teeth as he slowly starts to fuck the first inch in and out, over and over until you start to shake, hands scrabbling for his hips to push him further inside. âPlease, Mingi, daddy, I want more, all of it, give it to me-â
He grunts, sliding all of his length home as he pushes your thighs further apart, letting the pits of your knees rest on his elbows. Itâs then that he begins a sinuous grind, hips steadily rolling against your ass, jiggling the flesh upon impact. Your bed is creaking with his steady movements, a thud every second that has you worried your housemates can hear you but well, you decided a while ago that you were over that.
âThatâs w-what you needed, yeah?â He coos, voice shaky from the way your pussy is clenching around him. Every time his hips roll backwards, your hole grips and clings as if you canât bear to have him pull out, so Mingi shortens his thrusts - quick, deep bursts that almost pain your cervix when he hits it. It feels too good to hurt though, and you canât help but push against his tummy, overwhelmed with sensation. He catches your hands, pinning them above your head and grinding his pubic bone against your clit. âI know, âs so good, just- baby, f-feel it, feel it. Gonna feel it for the rest of your life. Yours now.â
You feel dizzy. Itâs so good, and heâs right - this is all yours now, finally, after everything.Â
Mingi quickens his thrusts, hitting right where you need him to. His shoulders catch your attention, broad and rippling with exertion as he holds himself above you, wet, hot pants spilling from his lips with every movement and you canât help yourself, you feel so full your eyes start to water. Heâs throbbing inside of you, desperate to split you open with his teeth biting into his lower lip as he gazes down at where youâre connected. Your pussy drools, slicking up to your mound and over his pubes, up to his happy trail.
âS-so fuckinâ tight, so wet, so warm,â His voice breaks, palm moving to your lower stomach to keep you steady. It quivers under his touch, but he doesnât notice, thinking solely with his dick. âWanted to fuck you so bad. Fuck, Iâve wanted this for so long, feels too good, p-please, baby, I gotta fuck you harder-â
âYou can, please, please,â You gasp when he does, shifting his knees to balance himself. His hips start move against you steadier, harder, cock pistoning into your pussy, abs rippling as he grinds himself inside of you. Itâs everything you dreamed of and more, and itâs almost too much, too full, too big - you canât help but whimper and scramble at his shoulders, squealing when he starts to rub over your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. Itâs so swollen, so sensitive that you squeal as he makes contact, cheeks burning as your back arches into him - youâve been waiting so long for this, and itâs ruining you, every thrust taking you apart and putting you back together again.Â
Mingiâs just as affected. He drools wetly onto your bare shoulder, wrapping one arm around the small of your back and letting the other hand move to cup your breast. Heâs flushed, warm and rutting into you like a mindless animal, but the whines falling from his lips are nothing but grateful. âH-How does it feel, baby, is it as good as you imagined?â
âBetter,â you hiccup, because it is, âfu-uck, Mingi, so much better, s-so deep!â
âYeah, pussyâs t-too fucking good,â He cups your head with his hand, pulling your body upright so heâs essentially holding you off the bed to fuck you. He can go harder like this, and you feel his balls slapping against your ass, lips drooling messily on your shoulder while he talks. You donât think he could be quiet if he tried, and you canât believe your brain got this so right. âSo fuckin- warm, tighttighttight, I could fuckinâ bust now,â he babbles, âfeels so good to fuck you open finally, thought about it- s-so much-â
âBaby, oh my god, âs so good,â you mewl, hands moving to his chest, cupping the ample flesh and scratching down further, leaving red lines in their wake. It only makes Mingi fuck you harder, thighs trembling as he drives into you over and over, and you realise heâs right - you are gonna cum around his cock, too soon to be acceptable. âFeels- youâre perfect, I canât, Iâll- itâs so good Iâll cum, I-â
âOh, honey,â Mingi groans, long and drawn out, âi-itâs okay, you can cum for me. I want you to cum as m-much as you can, okay?â he kisses you, messy and wet against your cheek, âas much as that little pussy lets you, soak my dick over ân over, please, baby.â
You hump yourself onto him, managing to push yourself over his shaft and he lets you, lets you fuck your hole on his thick length until you feel it starting to build, too fast, too sudden, too perfect. He holds you close, ruts into you just enough to abuse his cockhead against that spot inside of you and it doesnât take much, only a few grinds over him until youâre shaking apart.
âThatâs it, oh, good girl, my girl, all mine, so pretty,â Mingi babbles through it, and at the crest of your orgasm your lips part in a sharp noise. Your moan is strangled, almost pained, and he moans right back at you, moving one thumb down to your clit to rub over it and extend your orgasm as long as he can. Your walls flutter around him, gummy and soft and gushing so wet down to his balls that he canât help the way he rocks forward, chasing the wetness - he only causes you to leak more, cumming so long that your pussy starts to force him out; he presses his hips hard against yours to keep himself inside.
âA-Ah, I,â you cry, unsure, still stuttering with the remnants of it, âso good, I- thank you, daddy.â
Mingi gasps, plush lips parting, cock throbbing inside you. âdonât fucking- donât say that, I almost came,â all of a sudden, he pulls out, gripping his cock at the base to stave off his own orgasm. You see how slick his shaft is, drenched with your arousal and it looks so dirty, white cream moistening his tan skin and contouring the veins with wet mess. As if it catches his attention, he looks down too, groaning at the sight of your release before his eyes move to your body, raking down you unabashedly. You canât fucking believe this. Was he always this obvious? âFuck, I⊠baby, can I have you on your hands and knees? Always wanted-â
Youâre moving before he can finish, shaky limbs pushing your body up to your hands and knees. Your back forms an arch that he runs his hand down with a noise of appreciation, and then you hear the sheets rustle where he walks on his knees towards you, impatient.Â
âGood girl,â he mumbles, smoothing down the curve of your spine and down to your ass, where he seems to hesitate before he lands one firm slap. The flesh ripples as you cry out, but you donât run from him - instead, youâre bucking back for more, and Mingi pushes his dick back through your folds once again. âThought of this s-so much. Your ass, you grinding back on me, tellinâ me- tellinâ me how it feels. Thought of you too fucking much to be normal, baby, thought I was going insane.â
âMm, Mingi,â you shake your hips, distracted, trying to entice him, and it works. His noise is almost pained, eyes fixated down on where your ass perks up in the air, and heâs sliding back in in one quick thrust. Itâs deeper like this, and he hits your cervix almost immediately - this time he doesnât wait, hips hitting your ass consistently. The headboard thuds against the wall again, too loud and steady to be anything else, incriminating.
Mingi hisses and pulls out right to the tip, âP-please, baby. Shake it on me, like I said, shake it for daddy, good girl.â
Perhaps youâre too obedient but heâs engrossed by it, cock throbbing inside you. You start to grind your hips before you can be embarrassed, moving yourself up and down on his shaft in such a slick slide your chest hits the mattress, hands forming fists on your sheets.Â
âFuck, fuck, fuck,â you gasp, scrambling for dear life - has anything ever felt this good outside of those damn dreams? You knew it, knew it had to be him, knew it was always gonna be him - âfeels so good, please, please-â
Mingi gasps, hand coming to grip your hips, moving you against him, âYouâre unreal. Fucking- oh my god, thatâs it, just like that. My girl, my f-fucking dream, god, let me-â
He takes over. Youâre thankful for it, because youâve never felt anything so thick and long and veiny and so fucking perfect inside you - itâs like heâs made for you, carving his ridges and curves into your walls until you couldnât possibly think of anything else. Youâre glad youâre his now, because itâd be impossible to be anyone elseâs, to even try to be after heâs given you a taste of what you could have.Â
Mingiâs ravenous. Hands come to push you down, like heâs realised he can be rougher, and youâre forced fully onto your front before his teeth bite at your neck. His hips slap into you, sloppy, uneven, size forcing the cream youâve created to form a ring around his base, and he whines at the wetness.Â
âGâna cum, canât hold it,â He murmurs, hands wrapping around your shoulders for purchase, pulling you back into him. âCan you- fâme, another- fuckinâ give it to me, girl, all for your man.â
His finger and thumb come to roll your clit, and youâre done for. Combined with the feeling of him aching so heavily inside of you you can do nothing more but babble nonsensically, eyes crossing and cunt clenching around him so deliciously that he roars, pressing deep. Bites turn into kisses, softer as he gets closer and he tries to keep the pace the best he can but itâs unnecessary; just feeling his weight on you, his skin, his chest against your front triggers your orgasm, and one hand shoots down to hold Mingiâs wrist right over your bud.
âThatâs it, f-fuck, I can feel it,â He gasps, knees scrambling on the bed to get closer to you. He pushes deep once, twice more and then with a sharp whine you feel him too, the head of his fat cock erupting and filling you with more than enough proof that he likes you back.
âMngh- itâs- fucking deep, I-â You choke, and Mingi shushes you, voice shaky, pulling your hips back to get it even deeper as he pumps you full, breaths stuttering. Something awful flashes through your brain, something domestic and too serious but it makes your cunt throb, gummy and soothing around his shaft as he empties himself.Â
Mingi chuckles, kissing the slope of your shoulder. âMaybe itâll take, h-huh? Claim you properly. Will you believe itâs real then?â
âJ-Jesus,â you stutter, squirming - how did he read your mind like that? - and he laughs again, finally coaxing his softening cock out of your hole. It feels stretched, and you know it is when he groans, elongated, thumb rubbing over the slick opening.
âCould fuck you again looking at that,â He muses, and you wriggle your hips, tempted - he huffs and gives you another smack, this time on your thigh, admonishing you. âBehave. Weâll have a spliff and weâll go again.â
You roll over on your back, deflated, finally seeing him. He sits next to you on the bed, skin flushed, eyes half lidded. Heâs just as fucked out as you but somehow more composed, eyeing you like he wants to laugh but he knows he canât as heâs not much better.
âWeed and then more sex,â Your hand reaches up to smooth over his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut, a smile pulling at his lips until he falls into you again. Limbs intertwined, you peck at his nose again. âWhere have you been all my life?â
âBuying you banana milk and trying to be normal around you, actually.â
âRight, yeah,â You giggle, and he plasters himself to you closer. Youâre both sticky and exhausted but itâs comfortable, the heat satiating rather than stifling. Nails trailing up his arm, he shivers, and you watch the goosebumps form - real. Itâs real. âWe have a lot of making up to do. We couldâve been doing this a while ago.â
Mingiâs eyes open, glinting. âYouâre not leaving this room until it stinks, baby.â
âOkay, disgusting,â You shove at him, and heâs amused, finally rolling away to put some clothes on with a shake to his shoulders. Watching him as he moves, sitting on the edge of your bed, youâre unashamed this time - heâs yours to look at - and you hum as his back muscles flex, reaching down to pull his discarded boxers back up. When he stands, you see his thighs tense, and well, that ass⊠your eyes want to water. How lucky can one girl be?
Mingi stretches his arms above his head and turns to you, making you avert your eyes promptly to the blanket beneath you. âPervert, I saw that. But, hey, are Wooyoung and San still in?â
You yawn, shrugging, finally reaching over for your own clothes. âHonestly, no idea. Stopped caring.â
âThey can thank us for the show, and the many more to come,â Mingi grins, cocky, and you roll your eyes like you arenât obsessed with him. With that, your phone starts to ping on your bedside table, three tones one after another, and you furrow your eyebrows. Itâs quick throwing your clothes on before you check - a fresh pair of panties and a tee as your last pair of panties were ruined - and when you pick your phone up, he sidles in behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and kissing over your neck.
Nosy ass, you think, but you open your phone with a satisfied little smile, before it promptly falls at seeing that itâs your house group chat.
[2:13pm] wooyo: definitely still in baby
[2:14pm] sannie: Told you heâs a nice guy
[2:14pm] sannie: Do u guys want anything btw weâre ordering food
You splutter. âOh my god-â
âHow kind of him,â Mingi coos. âI think Sanâs nice too.â
âMingi,â You scowl, but he doesnât flinch, and when he plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek you canât help but smile. âYou know thatâs not the point!â
âOh, right. Ask him to get me some chicken. He knows what I like.â
âThatâs still-â
âBaaaaby. Chicken, please.â
âFine.â
if you got this far hi, thank you, this is the longest oneshot i've ever posted ever <3
genre: angst, hurt w/comfort (i'm not a monster cmon), established relationship, nonidol!au
word count: 10.7k
warnings: no use of y/n, mentions of alcohol, miscommunication (again!), possessive!wooyo, soft dom!wooyo, also whiny wooyo, pronebone!!!!!, praise kink, make up sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap!), p in v, mating press (kinda), multiple o's, fingering, oral, felching, breath play, spit play/spit as a means for lube, creampie, cockwarming, slight choking (?), mutual masturbation, body worship, breeding kink (mentioned like once tbh), a little bit of edging, emotional sex (he cries, her kitty did too), overstimulation / lmk if i missed any!
âââââ ââ ââ â âââââ
author's note: based on this request! i lowkey went overboard and got carried away with the makeup sex but who's going to complaing if their steak is too juicy and the lobster too buttery, yk? :p i hope you enjoy this my love @moilele <333
permanent taglist: @norixseaweed @f3mboienjoyer @liightlizard @minguxxs @mourninglizzy + if you want to be added to my taglist, let me know :))
The key turns in the lock at 1:47 AM. Youâve been staring at the clock for so long the numbers have burned into your vision, following you even when you close your eyes. The candlelight dinner you prepared hours ago has congealed on the table, the wax from the candles having melted into sad, misshapen puddles.
When Wooyoung stumbles through the door, the smell hits you firstâsharp, medicinal, unmistakably alcoholâbefore you even see his face. Heâs loosening his tie with one hand, the other gripping the doorframe for balance. He tries to toe off his shoes and only manages to get one halfway off before giving up. He lets the other one fall with a thud, then drops his battered work bag into the hallway, not caring if it blocks the door or if either of you end up tripping over it later.
âHey,â he mumbles, not quite meeting your eyes. âWhat are you doing still awake?â
You donât answer immediately. You just watch him, this man who hasnât texted you in nine hours, who left you sitting here with a heart that sank deeper into your chest with each passing minute. The silence stretches between you, taut as a wire.
âYou didnât answer your phone,â you finally say. Your voice comes out steadier than you expected, a calm that doesnât match the storm inside.
Wooyoung blinks, processing your words through the alcohol fog. âSorry, we were out at the bar. The projectâŠâ He waves his hand vaguely. âIt went really well. Everyone wasââ
âCelebrating,â you finish for him. Your eyes drift to the table behind you, the two plates still set with the meal you spent three hours preparing. The anniversary cake you ordered sits untouched in its box, the words âOne Yearâ now barely visible through the condensation thatâs gathered on the lid.
It hits you then, with a clarity that makes your stomach drop. He doesnât remember.
âLook, I know Iâm sorry that Iâm late again,â Wooyoung says, finally noticing your expression. âThings got crazy at the office. You know babe, the promotion, itâsââ
âDo you know what day it is?â you ask quietly.
He frowns, clearly trying to think through his drunken haze. âUhh Tuesday?â
The silence that follows is deafening. You watch the realization slowly dawn on his face, the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his mouth opens then closes without sound.
âShit,â he whispers. âOh fuckâŠâ
âYou forgot our anniversary.â Itâs not a question.
âI didnâtââWooyoung runs a hand through his hair, his movements still uncoordinated. âThe project deadline was today. Weâve been working toward this for weeks, you know that. And then everyone wanted to go out, and I couldnât justââ
âCouldnât just text me? Couldnât just call to say youâd be late?â Your voice rises slightly, despite your efforts to keep it steady. âI sat here for hours, Wooyoung. I thought something happened to you. I called your friends, hell I even called your office phone.â
âIâm fine,â he says, and thereâs an edge to his voice now, defensive. âIâm right here. Everythingâs fine.â
âEverything is not fine.â You stand up, needing the distance between you. âYouâve been working non-stop for weeks. You come home exhausted, barely speaking to me, and now you canât even remember our anniversary?â
Wooyoung sighs, the sound heavy with exhaustion and frustration. âIâm doing this for us, you know thatââ
âStop,â you cut him off. âStop saying that. Iâm not asking you to quit your job, Wooyoung. Iâm asking you to be present. To remember that I exist when youâre not at work.â
He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment you see the man you fell in love withâthe one who used to notice when you changed your hair, who used to call just to hear your voice. But then his expression hardens again.
âYou donât understand the pressure Iâm under,â he says, his voice tight. âThis isnât just about me. Itâs about our future.â
âOur future?â You let out a humourless laugh. âWhat fucking future? I barely see you anymore. When was the last time we had an actual conversation that wasnât about how tired you are?â
âIâm trying to build something for us.â
âNo, youâre building something for yourself and calling it âusâ to make yourself feel better.â The words spill out before you can stop them, raw and honest in a way that makes your chest ache. âI feel like you only love me when itâs convenient for you. When you have the time and energy.â
Wooyoungâs face darkens. âThatâs not fair.â
âIsnât it?â You step closer, needing him to see, to understand. âWhen was the last time you asked how I was doing? When was the last time you noticed anything about my life that wasnât directly related to yours?â
âIâm under a lot of stress right now, baby.â
âWeâre all under stress, Wooyoung. Thatâs not an excuse to disappear on your girlfriend.â
The room falls silent. Wooyoungâs shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched. You can see the exhaustion etched into every line of his face, the dark circles under his eyes that have been there for weeks. Part of you wants to reach out, to comfort him, but the hurt is too fresh, too deep.
âIâm doing my best,â he says finally, his voice quieter now. âIâm trying to balance everything.â
âYour best isnât good enough.â The words hang in the air between you, sharp and painful. âNot when your best means I spend our anniversary wondering if youâre lying dead in a ditch somewhere because you couldnât be bothered to send a text.â
Wooyoung flinches. âThatâs notââ
âDo you have any idea what itâs like?â Your voice breaks. âTo sit here, watching the clock, imagining all the worst possible scenarios because the man I love canât remember I exist?â
âI do remember you exist,â he says, and thereâs frustration in his voice now. âI think about you all the time. Iâm doing all of this for you.â
âFor me?â You laugh, the sound hollow. âThis isnât for me, Wooyoung. I never asked for any of this. I asked for you. Not this stressed-out stranger who comes home at midnight and falls asleep on the couch.â
Heâs silent for a long moment, and you can see him struggling, the alcohol and exhaustion making it hard for him to find the right words. When he finally speaks, his voice is strained.
âMaybe this is the real me,â he says. âMaybe this is who I am now and you just donât like what you see.â
The words hit you like a physical blow. You take a step back, your breath catching in your throat. You shake your head, denying the words that came out of his mouth.
âThatâs not true,â you whisper.
âIsnât it?â Wooyoungâs voice rises, matching your earlier statement, fuelled by frustration and alcohol. âBecause it seems like nothing I do is ever good enough for you. Iâm either working too much or not making enough money or not paying enough attentionââ
âIâve never said that.â
âYou donât have to say it. I can see it in your face every time I come home late. Every time Iâm too tired to talk.â He runs his hand through his hair again, the gesture agitated. âMaybe you should just find someone who can give you what you want, since apparently I canât.â
The silence that follows is absolute. You stare at him, unable to believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Wooyoung looks just as shocked as you feel, his eyes widening as he realizes what heâs said.
âWait⊠shit no thatâs not what I meantâŠâ he starts, but you cut him off.
âYou want me to leave?â Your voice is barely audible.
âNo, I didnât meanâŠâ Wooyoung takes a step toward you, but you back away. âIâm sorry, Iâm drunk and exhausted and I didnâtââ
âYou meant it,â you say. Thereâs no anger in your voice now, just a deep, bone-weary sadness. âMaybe not all of it, but part of it.â
He doesnât deny it. The silence stretches between you, filled with everything thatâs been left unsaid for weeks.
âI need to be alone,â you say, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hang between you, a barrier neither of you has the strength to cross. âI canât do this right now.â
Wooyoung opens his mouth to respond, but youâre already moving, already turning away from the wreckage of your anniversary night. You donât look back as you walk down the hallway to your bedroomâthe bedroom that was supposed to be shared, not a place of retreat. The door clicks shut behind you with a finality that makes your chest ache.
In the darkness of your room, you press your back against the door and slide down until youâre sitting on the floor. Your shoulders shake with silent sobs you refuse to let him hear. The anniversary card youâd written him earlier sits on your nightstand, the words inside now feeling hollow and foolish.
Time passes. You donât know how long you sit there, but eventually, you stand on trembling legs and change into your sleep clothes. The bed feels too big, too empty. You lie on your side, staring at the empty space where Wooyoung should be, and wait for sleep that doesnât come. An hour passes. Maybe two. Your anger has cooled to a dull ache in your chest, but sleep still eludes you. Finally, you slip out of bed, needing water, needing to move.
The living room is dark except for the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds. And there he isâWooyoung, slumped on the couch, still in his work clothes, one arm thrown over his eyes. Even in the dim light, you can see the tear tracks on his face, the dark stain on the cushion beneath his cheek.
Your heart constricts. Despite everythingâdespite the anger, despite the hurtâyou still love him. You still care.
You move silently to the kitchen, filling a glass with water and grabbing the bottle of aspirin from the cabinet. Your movements are careful, deliberate, as you place them on the coffee table beside him. You donât wake him. You donât say a word.
Instead, you stand there for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Even in sleep, his face is troubled, his brow furrowed. You want to smooth the lines away, to tell him everything will be okay. But you canât. Not yet.
So you do the only thing you can. You take care of him, silently, the way youâve always done. Because even when he forgets, even when heâs lost in his own world of stress and ambition, you remember. You remember the man you fell in love with, the one whoâs still in there somewhere, buried under exhaustion and pressure.
You pull the throw blanket from the back of the couch and drape it carefully over him. Your fingers brush against his hair, just once, so lightly he doesnât stir.
Then you turn and walk away, back to the bedroom that feels emptier than it should. You climb into bed alone, the space beside you cold and untouched. You wonder if this is how relationships begin to breakânot through lack of love, but through all the ways people fail to hold onto each other when life becomes too heavy. Sleep comes eventually, but itâs fitful, troubled by dreams of a future that feels increasingly uncertain.
ââââââââââââââââââ
Wooyoung wakes slowly to the dull throb of a splitting headache and a sharp ache running down his neck. The couch digs painfully into his back, one arm numb from the awkward angle heâd fallen asleep in. For a few disoriented seconds, he just stares at the ceiling, blinking against the pale morning light filtering through the apartment. Then last night hits him all at once. The argument. Your tears. The look on your face when he realized what day it was.
With a quiet groan, he pushes himself upright, rubbing a hand over his face. Thatâs when he notices the blanket draped carefully over him. The glass of water sitting on the coffee table beside two aspirin. His chest tightens. You took care of him anyway. Even after everything.
Wooyoung stares at the medicine for a long moment before letting out a weak, humourless laugh under his breath. âFuck,â he mutters hoarsely, guilt crawling up his throat.Â
He swallows the aspirin dry before forcing himself to stand, exhaustion still heavy in his limbs. The apartment is quiet as he makes his way toward the bedroom, each step slower than the last, like heâs afraid of what heâll find on the other side of the door. He eases it open carefully. Youâre asleep, curled toward his side of the bed even though it stayed empty all night. In the soft morning light, he notices the tear tracks dried against your cheeks immediately, and something inside him caves in at the sight. His own eyes still burn from last night, raw and swollen in a way he knows mirrors yours. For a moment, he just stands there in silence, looking at you. At the woman who still tucked a blanket around him after he forgot about your anniversary. After he hurt you. Wooyoung closes his eyes briefly, jaw tightening.
He closes the door to your shared bedroom and makes his way to the kitchen. He quietly reaches for his phone and silences the alarm for work before typing out a lengthy message to his boss with determined fingers. Nothing at work feels more important than this anymore.
Your eyes open to the empty space beside you, the pillow still perfectly fluffed, untouched. Of course heâs already gone. The realization settles in your chest like a stone. You lie there for a moment, the events of last night crashing back with brutal clarity. The forgotten anniversary. The heartbreak that ensued. The fight. The words that canât be unsaid. You press the heels of your hands against your eyes, forcing the tears to remain at bay.
Then you hear itâthe soft clink of dishes from the kitchen.
Your heart stutters. You freeze, listening. There it is againâthe unmistakable sound of someone moving around in the kitchen. The one that should be empty right now. Panic rises in your throat. Heâs still here. Wooyoung is still here, and you have no idea what to say to him after everything that happened. After everything you both said.
You sit up slowly, your body heavy with emotional exhaustion. The floor is cold beneath your feet as you pad toward the bedroom door. Your hand hesitates on the doorknob. What will you see when you open it? Will he be packing his things? Will he be waiting to tell you itâs over?
The door creaks as you pull it open. The hallway seems longer than usual as you make your way toward the kitchen. With each step, your anxiety grows, a tight knot in your chest that makes it hard to breathe.
And then you see him.
Wooyoung stands at the counter, his back to you. Heâs still wearing the same clothes from last night, rumpled and wrinkled. His hair is a mess, sticking up at odd angles. He moves slowly, methodically, as if each action requires immense concentration.
âArenât you going to work?â The words slip out before you can stop them, your voice hoarse from crying.
Wooyoung turns, and the sight of him makes your breath catch. His eyes are bloodshot, his face pale. He looks like he hasnât slept at all, like heâs been carrying the weight of your argument with him through the long night.
âI told them I wasnât coming in today or for the rest of the week,â he says simply.
The words hang in the air between you. You stare at him, trying to process what this means. Wooyoung never calls in. Heâs the type who goes to work with a fever of 102, who works through weekends and holidays without complaint.
âWhat? Why?â you ask, the question barely audible.
Wooyoung sets down the cup heâs been holding. His knuckles turned white as he gripped onto the glass tighter. âI already lost enough time with you yesterday. Iâm not about to just leave you here alone, again.â
The simplicity of his words hits you like a physical blow. You lean against the doorframe, suddenly weak. The kitchen table is setâtwo plates, two mugs, the breakfast you used to make together on weekend mornings. The silence that follows is thick with everything left unsaid. You watch as he turns back to the counter, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Thereâs a vulnerability in his posture you havenât seen in monthsâthe confident, ambitious man youâve been watching slip away replaced by someone unsure, someone hurting.
âIâm sorry,â he says finally, still facing away from you. âFor everything I said last night. For making you feel like you donât matter to me.â He turns to face you, and the raw emotion in his eyes makes your chest ache. âYou matter more than anything, and Iâve been acting like you donât.â
You want to go to him, to bridge the distance between you, but your feet feel rooted to the spot. âAnd the rest?â you ask. âWhat you said about me finding someone else?â
Wooyoungâs face crumples. âI didnât mean any of that stupid shit. I was an idiot and said the most hurtful thing I could think of because I was angry at myself, not at you. What I said to you was inexcusable.â He runs a hand through his hair, the gesture agitated. âI was so terrified of failing you that I ended up failing you anyway.â
The truth of his words settles over you. You step into the kitchen, moving toward him slowly, giving him the chance to retreat if he wants to. He doesnât.
âI donât want someone else,â you say quietly. âI want you. Not the version of you thatâs so caught up in work he forgets we exist. That I exist.â
Wooyoungâs eyes filled with tears. âIâve been so focused on building a future for us that I forgot to be present in our now.â He takes a step toward you. âIâm so sorry. I donât expect you to forgive me right away or ever butâGod, I fucked up so bad.â
You look at the breakfast heâs preparedâeggs perfectly set, toast golden, the smell of coffee already doing something to the tension in your shoulders. Heâs always been a better cook than you. Youâd forgotten that, somehow, in the wreckage of last night.
âCome here,â you say softly.
He crosses the kitchen in three quick strides, and then his arms are around you, holding you so tightly itâs almost painful. You can feel him trembling, feel the way his heart hammers against your cheek. Your face tucks just under his chin, and you feel the warm wetness of tears landing soft in your hair.
âI love you,â he whispers, the words muffled against your hair. âI love you so much, and Iâm so sorry I made you doubt that.â
You hold him just as tightly, your own tears spilling over. âI love you too,â you mumble against his chest. âDonât shut me out like that again, You know Iâm always here for you.â
Wooyoung pulls back, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His thumbs brush away your tears with a gentleness that makes your heart ache. âI know,â he says. âIâll do better for you. For us. Today, tomorrow, and however long as it takes.â
He leans forward and presses his forehead against yours. âCan I show you something?â You nod.
âI got you something,â he says. âI remembered that I had a whole elaborate plan to give this to you.â He exhales, something between a laugh and a sob. âThen I got the promotion news and I justâI let that take over everything. Your gift has been sitting in my bag for two weeks while I was out celebrating myself.â He shakes his head. âI made our anniversary about me. Iâm such an idiot.â
âYeah, the biggest idiot of all time.â
He lets out a small chuckle, a hint of guilt and sadness follow the hollow laugh. A flicker of something hopeful crosses his exhausted face. âCan I still give it to you?â
You look up at him. âOf course.â
Wooyoungâs face lights up with a small, tentative smile. He takes your hand and leads you to the living room. You both sink into the couch where he spent the night, your shoulders touching. His work bag sits on the floor beside it. He reaches down and pulls out a small velvet box.
Your breath catches.
âItâs not what you think,â he says quickly, seeing your expression. âNot yet, anyway.â He opens the box to reveal a delicate silver bracelet, with a small charm hanging from itâa tiny compass.
âItâs so you always find your way back to me,â he explains, his voice soft. âEven when Iâm being a complete dumbass.â
You look from the bracelet to his face, seeing the hope and fear mingled in his eyes. This is what you fell in love withânot the ambitious, driven man who works too much, but this man whoâs vulnerable enough to admit when heâs wrong, whoâs brave enough to try to fix what heâs broken.
âItâs beautiful,â you say, holding out your wrist.
As Wooyoung fastens the bracelet with trembling fingers, you realize that healing wonât happen overnight. There will be more conversations, more difficult moments as you both learn to balance his career with your relationship. But as his hand finds yours, the bracelet cool against your skin, you know youâre willing to try.
Because some things are worth fighting for. Some people are worth the struggle. And this manâflawed and imperfect but trying, always tryingâis one of them.
âI should have called,â he says finally, his voice quiet in the morning stillness. âI should have texted. I kept thinking about it, but then someone would pull me into another conversation, and Iâd get distracted, and then...â He trails off, shaking his head. âThatâs no excuse.â
âNo, itâs not,â you agree, but thereâs no anger in your voice now. Just bone-deep weariness.
Wooyoungâs shoulders slump. He looks smaller somehow, diminished by his own guilt. âIâve been so focused on proving myself at work that I forgot to be present here. With you.â His eyes find yours, red-rimmed and sincere. âIâm drowning, and instead of asking for help, Iâve been pulling you under with me.â
Your chest tightens at his words. Youâve been so wrapped up in your own hurt that you havenât fully considered his perspective. âWhy didnât you tell me you were struggling?â you ask softly.
He lets out a shaky breath. âBecause I was supposed to be the strong one. The one who had it all figured out.â His voice cracks. âI didnât want you to see how overwhelmed I was. How scared I am that I wonât be enough.â
The admission hangs in the air between you. You reach for his hand, your fingers hesitantly brushing against his. He turns his palm up, letting you take it.
âIâm sorry too,â you say, your voice barely above a whisper. âFor being so accusatory last night. For making you doubt that your best wasnât enough. And for dismissing the fact that you work so immensely hard to provide for us.â
Wooyoung looks up, surprise evident in his eyes.
âI was angry,â you continue, âbut I was also terrified. Every time you came home late without calling, I imagined the worst. And then Iâd feel so stupid when you finally texted, like I was being dramatic or clingy.â
âYouâre not,â he says firmly. âYou were right to be worried. Iâve been a completely inconsiderate asshole.â
You squeeze his hand. âAnd I said things I didnât mean. About you not loving me.â The words are hard to say, hard to admit. âI know thatâs not true. I just... I missed you. I missed us.â
A tear slips down Wooyoungâs cheek. âIâve missed us too,â he admits. âIâve been so caught up in work that I forgot how to be a person. How to be your person.â
You shift closer to him on the couch, the gap between you narrowing. Your free hand reaches up to brush away his tear, your touch tentative, questioning. He leans into it, his eyes closing briefly.
âIâm going to do better,â he promises. âIâve already talked to my boss about setting better boundaries. About leaving work at a reasonable hour, about not checking emails at home.â He opens his eyes, looking at you with such intensity it makes your breath catch. âYou deserve more than the scraps of time and attention Iâve been giving you.â
âWhat if you canât?â you ask, voicing the fear thatâs been haunting you. âWhat if work pulls you back in?â
Wooyoungâs expression turns determined. âThen Iâll walk away. Find something else. Because nothing is worth losing you over.â He brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. âNothing.â
Your vision blurs with fresh tears. âI donât want you to give up your career for me.â
âIâm not,â he assures you. âIâm choosing our relationship. Choosing you. The career is just a job. I can be replaced at any given moment but you? Youâre my whole life. Youâre irreplaceable.â
The words wash over you, healing some of the hurt thatâs been festering. You move closer still, until your knees are touching, until you can feel the warmth of him beside you.
âI love you,â you say simply. âEven when youâre being an idiot and forgetting our anniversary.â
A watery laugh escapes him. âI love you too. Iâm your idiot, though.â
Your hand finds its way to his face, cupping his cheek. His stubble is rough against your palm, grounding you in this moment. He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your palm, his eyes never leaving yours.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks, his voice raw with emotion.
You nod, unable to form words around the lump in your throat.
Wooyoung leans forward slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want to. You donât. When his lips meet yours, itâs like coming home after a long journey. Thereâs relief in the touch, and longing, and a deep, abiding affection that transcends the hurt of the past weeks.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers against your lips. âIâm so sorry.â
His kisses move to your cheek, to the corner of your eye where tears still linger. âIâll do better,â he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.
You tilt your head, giving him access to your neck, where he presses soft, apologetic kisses. âI know you will,â you whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair.Â
Wooyoung pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. âI donât deserve you,â he says. âBut Iâm going to spend every day trying to be worthy of you.â
You shake your head. âYou already are. You just got lost for a while.â
He pulls you into his arms, holding you against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your ear. His hand strokes your hair, gentle and soothing.
âI was so scared,â you admit, the words muffled against his shirt. âThat we were falling apart, and I didnât know how to stop it.â
His arms tighten around you. âWeâre not falling apart,â he promises. âWeâre just... learning how to be together in a new way. With new challenges.â
You look up at him, seeing the determination in his eyes. âTogether,â you repeat. âThatâs the important part.â
Wooyoung nods, pressing another kiss to your forehead. âTogether. Always.â
The breakfast he made sits forgotten on the table, growing cold. But you donât mind. There will be other breakfasts, other mornings. Right now, all that matters is thisâthe two of you, holding onto each other, finding your way back to what matters most.
âI think,â Wooyoung says after a while, his voice soft with sleepiness and emotion, âthat since i took a few days off we could spend more time together. Just us. No work, no distractions.â
You raise an eyebrow. âYou? Taking time off? Who are you and what have you done with my workaholic boyfriend?â
He laughs, the sound warming you from the inside out. âIâve been replaced by someone with better priorities.â His expression turns serious. âI mean it, though. We need this. I need this. To remember that I have a lot of making up to do.â
The idea is tempting. âAnd how would you do that, hm?â
âI could think of one way right now,â he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, intimate timbre that sends a shiver down your spine.
Before you can respond, Wooyoung stands and scoops you into his arms, his movements surprisingly fluid despite his exhaustion. You gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you toward your bedroomâyour shared bedroom thatâs been missing his presence for far too long.
âWooyoung,â you breathe, your heart racing as he pushes the door open with his foot. âPut me down! I couldâve walked to the bedroom too, idiot.â
âSorry princess. I couldn't help myself,â he says, his eyes dark with desire as he lays you gently on the bed.
He climbs onto the bed beside you, his weight making the mattress dip. For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression a mixture of reverence and hunger that makes your breath catch.
âMissed you,â he whispers, his hand coming up to trace the line of your jaw. âSo much.â
You reach for him, pulling him down into a kiss thatâs deeper than before, more urgent. His lips move against yours with a desperation that speaks volumes about the distance thatâs grown between you. You can taste the salt of dried tears on his skin, feel the slight tremble in his hands as they slide down to your waist.
You fist your hands in the crisp fabric of his shirt. The buttons press sharp and insistent against your chest, and you tug at them, desperate, fumbling until the first one gives. He groans, shifting so he can help, pulling away just enough to make quick work of the rest. The shirt falls open, exposing him to the morning light, the edges of his collarbone flushed and vulnerable.
Your breath hitchesâyouâd forgotten, somehow, how beautiful he is like this. His body is lean but not slight, muscle hugging bone and sinew in all the right places. You drag your hand along the inside of his forearm, tracing the thick black lines of the rose inked from his wrist to the curve before his elbow. You glide over the leaves and thorns, half-expecting the tattoo to prickle beneath your touch. He shudders, eyes hooded, drinking in the sight of you devouring him.
You slide your palm up, across his biceps, his shoulderâmapping every inch, reacquainting yourself with the geography of him. His chest heaves, the faint dusting of hair there rising as you scrape your nails down to his abs. You canât help but smile a little at how his stomach tenses, how he jerks when you reach the sensitive dip above his hips. He grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing each knuckle in apology and in thanks. Heâs trembling with wanting, with relief, and you want to swallow it whole.
You pull him closer, reaching up to slide the shirt off his shoulders. It pools at his elbows, then falls away, leaving him naked from the waist up. He presses you into the mattress, his lips everywhere at onceâyour jaw, your neck, the hollow at your collarbone. His hands are greedy, slipping under your shirt, seeking skin, worshipping you as if youâre the only thing in the world that makes sense.
Wooyoungâs fingers curl into the soft cotton of your sleep shirt as though heâs gathering every ounce of courage in his body to peel away not only the fabric but the distance heâs put between you. The morning light filters through gauzy curtains, illuminating the swirl of dust motes in the air and casting a gentle glow over your skin. He pauses, breath catching as he drinks you inâevery freckle on your shoulder, every rise and fall of your chestâbefore tugging the shirt up and over your head in one smooth, practiced motion. The cool air of the room grazes your bare skin, sending a shiver through you as the light catches the gentle pebbling of your nipples and the subtle flex of your stomach muscles.
He chases away the chill, warm palms gliding up your sides, fingertips tracing the lines of your ribs, thumbs circling the soft shadows beneath your breasts as if to reassure himself that you are realâsolid and here.
âW-Wooyoung,â you breathe out, barely more than a tremor in the air, but it hits him like a bullet: his gaze snaps up, blown wide and hungry, jaw tensing so hard you can see the cords in his neck stand out.
âHmm?â
He sounds dazed, already gone for you. He searches your face for a clue, a hint of what you want, even as his hands keep movingâroaming your waist, palming the flare of your hips, stroking reverent up and down your spine. You shudder, skin prickling everywhere he touches. Then, with a slow, deliberate shift, you arch your back and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your underwearâyour last layerâand drag them down, inch by inch, teasing yourself as much as him. You kick them off, letting them flutter to the floor, and stretch out on your stomach, arms reaching above your head, pressing your cheek into the pillow. You tilt your hips up, highlighting the bare swell of your ass, lush and expectant, every inch of you primed for him. The effect is instantaneous. He groans, low and feral in the back of his throat, his cock straining visibly against the thin grey of his sweats.
âWhat are you doing, baby?â he chokes, voice ragged, eyes glued to the sight of you so shamelessly presenting for him.Â
You glance back lazily over your shoulder, lips parted, smile hazy and filthy. âLay on top of me.â Your voice drips with need, teasing, coaxing, as your ass shifts again, the jiggle intentional, sinful.
His adam's apple bobs, eyes glued to the way youâre presenting yourself to him, pussy glistening and waiting. He sits frozen for a second, maybe trying to get his breath back, maybe just marvelling at how good you look, spread out and waiting.
âBet."
Then heâs on you, crawling up the bed with a focused intent that sends another thrill through you. âUp,â he murmurs, tapping your hip. You lift obediently and he slides a pillow beneath you, angling your hips up off the mattress before he kneels behind you, pushes your thighs apart with strong hands, trapping your legs beneath his as he blankets your body. His heat, heavy and suffocating in the best way, seeps into your skin. Your cheek sinks into the sheets; you can smell your own slick in the air, feel the pulse of anticipation between your thighs. He leans in, lips skimming up your spine, worshipping every vertebrae, every goosebump and dimple, before he settles his weight against your back, pinning you down and making you feel tiny beneath him.
You canât help it: you reach back, grab at the waistband of his slacks, desperate to feel more of him. Your fingers brush the rigid outline of his cock and he shudders, hips jerking, the tip already wetting a dark stain into the fabric. He lets you tug down his pants, lifting his hips just enough to help you get them over his ass, down his thighs, clumsy and urgent. As soon as theyâre off, he kicks them away, a brief chill racing up your legs before he covers you again, hotter and needier than before. Youâre both tremblingâmaybe from nerves, maybe from how badly you need each other.Â
âPlease,â he moans, the word nearly a whimper, as you wrap your hand around the bulge beneath his boxers, feeling him throb in your grip. Heâs so hard it almost hurts, and when you pull the waistband down and finally set him free, he gasps, forehead dropping onto your shoulder. His cock springs out, thick and flushed, the head angry red and already leaking.
âJesus,â you hear yourself say, voice thick with awe. âSomeoneâs a little eager.â He laughs, shaky, like heâll fall apart if he doesnât.
âYou have no fucking idea.â
His hand traces your thigh, kneading your flesh, fingers digging in with just enough pressure to bruise. You feel how much he needs you in every trembling touch. He cups your ass, squeezing and spreading, and then lets his hand drift lower, fingers ghosting along your slit. Youâre soakedâembarrassingly soâand he groans when he feels it, slicking his fingers through you, teasing your entrance with featherlight touches. Your hips buck back, desperate for more, but he holds you firmly in place, taking his time, savoring the way you writhe under him.
âAre you gonna make me beg?â you pant, rutting against his hand.
He presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, voice thick and broken. âI want to hear you say you need me.â
âYou already know I do.âÂ
âSay it anyway.â His tongue flicks your earlobe, his words vibrating in your chest.
âI need you, Wooyoung. Please.â
The words tumble out, more desperate than you mean them to, but you donât care. You want himâneed himâso bad itâs physically painful. He lines himself up at your entrance, the heat of his cock a brand against your skin. But he doesnât push inânot yet. He grinds the tip against your folds, smearing his precum through your wetness, teasing you with shallow thrusts that never quite give you what you want. You sob into the pillow, body arching, entirely at his mercy.
âGod, look at you,â he whispers. âYouâre so perfect. Fuck, I donât deserve you.â
âYes you do.â The words are a gasp, but you mean them. Even after everything, you want to give him this.
You want to give him everything.
Heâs shaking, whole body vibrating with the effort of holding back, not just rutting into you like an animal. âIs this okay?â he asks, voice so weighted with emotion it almost makes you cry. âTell me you want this. Tell me you want me.â
âI want you,â you say, âI always want you. I want you right now, more than anything.â
He lets out a choked breath, as if youâve released him from a terrible spell. âFuck, yes.â He buries his face in the curve of your neck, breath hot and ragged. You feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance, stretching you slowly, inch by inch as he slides in.
The stretch is sweet, burning, perfect. You moan, the sound loud and raw, echoing off the walls of your shared bedroom. He fills you up, deeper than you remember, and it feels like coming home after a long, cold exile. You clench around him, savouring the drag, the friction, the pulse of his heartbeat through the thickness of his cock. He starts to move, slow at first, drawing out each withdrawal and thrust so you feel every centimetre, every ridge and vein. His hands on your waist are trembling, sometimes gripping too hard and then letting go, as if heâs afraid to hurt you, afraid to let go of this moment. You arch your back, pushing yourself up into him, greedy for more.
âHarder,â you urge. âFuck me harder."
He whimpers, hips stuttering, and then sets a punishing pace, hips snapping forward to drive into you with every ounce of pent up longing heâs been carrying. The mattress creaks, the headboard smacks the wall. Heâs so big, so deep, so desperate, and you love it.
âDonât⊠fuckâ say that shit,â he whines, his voice cracking. âYâfeel so good, so fucking tight.â
You arch back, meeting his thrusts, loving the way he loses control. His need for you is unfiltered, all-consuming, and you drink it like oxygen. He sets a rhythm, fast and merciless, hips slamming into you so hard it feels like a punishment, but you crave it, need it, want him to fuck you so hard you forget the argument and only memorise the feeling of him inside you. The slapping sound of skin on skin is obscene, even over the creaking of the bed and your shared moans, but you donât care, donât care if the whole apartment building hears you. Wooyoung is not gentle, not now; heâs desperate, driven by weeks of withheld affection, of loneliness and longing. He covers you, bites your shoulder, fucks you like itâs the last time, every thrust a plea for forgiveness and a pledge of eternity.
He leans more of his weight into you, his hand snaking around to your front, fingers seeking your clit. The first touch is electricâyou jerk, stars bursting behind your eyes. He circles your clit with the pad of his finger, fast and hard, no finesse, just pure need to make you cum.
In a cruel twist of fate, his hips slow suddenlyâthe rhythm of his hips bullying yours breaking. You whimper at the loss, your body clenching around him, so desperate for more. But he pulls out completely, leaving you empty, aching.
âLook at me,â he demands, voice rough with need.
You crane your neck back over your shoulder, cheek still pressed into the sheets, and find him watching you with that dark intensity that makes your breath catch. His cock glistens with your combined wetness, the head swollen and flushed as he drags it slowly up and down your entrance, the angle making you feel every torturous inch of the teaseâjust enough pressure to feel but not enough to satisfy.
âPlease,â you gasp, hips tipping higher.
His lips curl into a wicked smile from somewhere above and behind you. âNot yet.â He circles your clit with his slick tip before sliding back down. Your thighs tremble against the pillow he placed under your hips.
âSpit,â he commands, reaching his palm around to your mouth.
You obey without hesitation, gathering saliva that he uses to coat himself again, the wet sound obscene in the quiet room. He returns to his maddening teasing, the new slickness making his cock glide effortlessly against your swollen flesh.
âGood fucking girl,â he groans, the words punched out between ragged breaths. âLook at youâtaking everything I give you.â
Youâre beyond words now, reduced to desperate sounds as he continues his exquisite torture. When you canât stand it anymore, you reach behind your body, guiding him back to where you need him most. He lets you, but only for a moment. With a growl that vibrates through your chest, he pushes your hand away and positions himself again, his eyes locked on to the way your body is so responsive to his. Then he leans down, lips pressing soft and slow into your shoulder, and you feel his breath warm against the curve of your neck
âPrincessâ he whispers, voice cracking open at the edges, his cock still dragging slowly and torturous against your entrance. âYou can forgive me right? ShitâŠYou can forgive your Wooyo right?â
âYes,â you gasp, hips rolling back into him helplessly. âYes, yessâfuck, I f-forgive you⊠Wooyoung, I need you so bad, please!"
Something breaks in his expressionâall restraint shattering. He thrusts forward in one powerful motion, burying himself to the hilt with a sound that borders on a sob, hands clutching your hipsâhis grip bruising but full of desperate love. âGod, you feel so good,â he croaks. âI missed this. I missed you. I missed you so fucking much.â
The force of it knocks the wind out of you, the fullness so shocking you can only moan, the sound muffled by the pillow but loud enough for him to hearâmaybe for the neighbours to hear too. He doesnât care. Neither do you.
The words degenerate into a string of curses and pleas, all dignity and composure long abandoned. Youâre reduced to this: the shudder of your hips, the filthy slickness on your thighs, the way you beg for him with every inch of your body.
Heâs lost to it now, rutting into you with a violence born of weeksâmonthsâof wanting, of regret, of all the shit heâs made you both suffer through in his absence. Every motion is a contradiction, a punishment and an apology, as he fucks you harder than he ever has, hips snapping so fast you barely have time to catch your breath between thrusts. His hands are everywhereâgripping your hips, yanking you back onto him, fisting in your hair, ghosting along your ribs and then down to your clit. His fingers rub you with the same desperate rhythm as his cock, no finesse, just pure, animal drive to make you cum first, to make you remember what you are together.
He doesnât say a word at first, just grunts and breathes your name into your hair like a prayer. But when you look back at him, head turned over your shoulder, you see his face twisted in something rawer than lust. Love. His eyes are wet. He thrusts in, deeper, grinding the head of his cock against the spot inside you that makes your vision white out at the edges.
âGod, I missed you,â he whines, the words hitching on the upstroke. âI missed you, princess, Iâm sorry, Iâm so fucking sorryââ He laces his apology into every movement, every thrust, trying to convince you with the force of his body how much he means it. âNo one else can have you, fuck, never anyone else, not ever, you hear me?â His hips stutter, losing rhythm, and you know heâs close, so close, but he wonât let himself finish until you do.
He snakes his hand around your throat, the gentlest squeeze, just enough to remind you whoâs in control. The pressure is perfect; you arch into it, into him, hips rocking back greedily to milk every inch of his cock. He bends over you, mouth against your ear, breath hot and frantic:
âCum for me, princess. Wanna feel you cum all over me.â
And you do, splintering apart around him, pleasure ripping through you so hard it borders on pain. You scream, you swear, you claw at the sheets, and he fucks you through it, pace relentless, never slowing, never breaking.
Heâs shaking above you, groaning your name, his hand still tangled in your hair as he thrusts a few more desperate times and then comes, deep inside you, with a guttural wail. The heat of his release is almost shocking, the way he fills you leaving no doubt that heâs yours, utterly and absolutely. He stays pressed to you, sweat-slicked and trembling, for long, silent seconds, his cock twitching with aftershocks, his breath turning softer, steadier. You can feel his heart thumping against your back, the wild rhythm slowly synchronizing with yours.
He never lets you go, not even as he softens inside you. He just wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. You canât move, can barely breathe, but the only thing you want is to stay like this foreverâhis weight, his warmth, his love, every bit of him pressed into you until you forget where you end and he begins. Heâs the apology and the forgiveness, the punishment and the reward, and you take every last bit of him, all over again, until neither of you has anything left to give.
Youâre both gasping, boneless, ruined, but itâs the best kind of ruinedâlike youâve been put back together again, better than you were before. He kisses your neck, soft now, lazy, like he canât help himself, and when he finally pulls out, both of you whimper at the loss.
You shift, rolling onto your side, facing him. His face is dampâsweat, tears, who even knowsâbut his eyes are clear and bright as he looks at you. He traces your jaw with a shaking finger.
âYouâre so fucking perfect,â he breathes, voice hoarse, âand Iâm never letting you go, you got that?â
You laugh, delirious, and pull him close, your lips finding his in a kiss thatâs slow and deep, the kind that says I forgive you, I want you, Iâll never be done with you. He sighs into it, like heâs waited a lifetime for this, like heâs never tasted anything sweeter.
And then his hand is between your legs again, gentle now, and you realize heâs not done with you yet. Not even close.
But you werenât done with him either.
âWait,â you mumble against his lips, pulling back just enough to see his eyes. âLet me watch you.â
Wooyoungâs brow furrows, a question forming in his gaze. You slide your hand down his chest, over the damp skin, until your fingers wrap around his still-sensitive cock. He hisses, body tensing at your touch.
âWanna see you touch yourself,â you clarify, your voice dropping to a husky whisper.
Understanding dawns across his face, followed by a slow, wicked smile that makes your stomach flip. âYeah?â he asks, already shifting position. âYou want to watch me jerk off, baby? Naughty girl.â
You nod, your own hand moving between your legs as you settle back against the pillows. Wooyoung sits up, kneeling between your spread thighs, his eyes never leaving yours as he wraps his hand around his length. Heâs already hardening again, his cock responding eagerly to your gaze. You watch, transfixed, as his fingers begin to move, a slow, deliberate stroke from base to tip that makes his breath catch.
âFuck,â he groans, his head falling back slightly. âPlay with yourself too, princess.â
Youâre touching yourself now, circling your clit with teasing pressure, your other hand squeezing your breast. The sight of him pleasuring himself while watching you is intoxicatingâhis muscles flexing, his lips parted, his eyes dark with desire.
âShow meâŠshit," you urge, your voice barely audible. âShow me what you think about when Iâm not around to suck you dry.â
He moans, his pace quickening. âIâm always thinking about you, â he admits, his voice rough. âAbout your pretty mouth, your perfect tits, the way you feel when Iâm inside you.â His hand moves faster now, his breathing growing ragged. âI think about making you cumâfuck, l-love thinking about watching you fall apart because of me.â
Your fingers move faster, matching his rhythm, the sight of him pleasuring himself pushing you closer to the edge. The room fills with the wet sounds of your mutual pleasure, your soft gasps mingling with his deeper groans.
âIâm câclose,â you pant, your hips rising off the bed. âBaby, Iâm so fucking close.â
âMe too,â he gasps, his hand moving furiously over his cock. âGod, the way youâre touching yourselfâfuck, I canâtâ"
âSo fucking good⊠haahââ you whimper. âCum with me.â
His eyes lock with yours, and you see the same desperation, the same need reflected back at you. Your fingers move faster, your thumb circling your clit with just the right pressure as you watch his hand fly over his length, his body tense with impending release.
âWooyoung,â you cry out as the first wave hits you, your body arching off the bed.
âOh god, yes youâre so hot fuuuck,â he groans, his release spurting hot across your stomach as he watches you come undone.
Youâre both panting, chests heaving as sweat trickles down your bodies and Wooyoungâs cum glistens wet and hot across your stomachâbut even as you come down, the air between you only grows thicker. His eyes linger on your face, hungry and soft all at once, and you know before he says a word that he isnât finished with you yet. He swipes his thumb through his mess, smearing it across your skin, and then lifts his hand to your lips.
âOpen,â he murmurs, voice already roughening around the edges, and you open obediently, tongue laving over his skin, savouring the salt and the faint sweetness of him.
He watches you, transfixed, and then the hunger snaps back into focus. With a sudden, fluid motion, he grabs you by the hips and guides you onto your back, landing you with a gasp and a bounce that sends aftershocks through your spent body. For a second you just lie there, limp and loose-limbed, but Wooyoung is on you before you have time to recoverâhis mouth capturing yours in a kiss thatâs all teeth and tongue and desperate, greedy possession. He devours you, biting your lower lip so hard you nearly yelp, but then heâs soothing the sting with a velvet-soft lick, fingers already roaming, cupping your jaw, winding into your hair, squeezing the back of your neck until youâre gasping into his mouth.
âLast one baby,â he rasps, voice vibrating right against your teeth. âNeed to breed your pretty pussy one last time.â
Heâs already sliding down your body, trailing open-mouthed kisses over every inch of skinâyour throat, your collarbones, the peak of your tits. He bites down gently on your nipple, then flicks it with his tongue, the sensation sharp and electric and so fucking precise. He lavishes both breasts with attention, sucking bruises in places only he will see, then lets his tongue trace a hot, wet path down your torso.
He stops at your belly, swiping a finger through the sticky mess on your skin. âLook at you,â he says, voice thick with pride and awe, and you feel your cheeks flame even as you spread your legs wider for him.
He dips his head, lapping at where his cum has pooled in your navel, and you shiver at the lewdness of it, the way he worships every part of you. When his mouth finally moves lower, youâre already shaking with anticipation, your core clenching tight, desperate for more even though you should be wrung out.
He dives between your thighs, licks a stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit, and you nearly come off the bed from the shock of it. He laughs, low and dark, and buries his face in your cunt, eating you like a man starved. His tongue is everywhere. Circling your clit, plunging inside you, mixing slick and spit and the faint metallic taste of his own release. You fist your hands in his hair, grinding your hips against his mouth, shameless in the way you beg, âMore, more... please, fuck, donât stopââ and he doesnât.
He works you with ruthless precision, two fingers thrusting deep while his tongue flicks rapid-fire at your clit. You feel the pressure build, so much faster than before, your legs trembling, your thighs clamping tight around his head. He holds you open, arms braced under your knees, keeping you spread and helpless as he brings you right to the brink and then eases off, just enough to drive you insane. He does it again, and again, pulling you apart, making you plead for it.
âWooââ you whimper, your voice thin and shaky. âPlease, pleaseââ
He lifts his head, lips glistening, and you see the wild satisfaction in his eyes. âYouâre so fucking pretty when you beg,â he says, and the praise sends another rush of heat through your veins.
âPlease,â you say again, and this time he relents, sucking your clit into his mouth and moaning around it. The vibration hits you like a lightning strike and you come hard, arching your back, crying out his name so loud you know it will echo in your ears for days. He keeps going, licking you through it, not stopping until youâre sobbing with oversensitivity and shoving at his head to make it end.
He crawls up your body, cock already hard again as he rubs it against your thigh, your stomach, the sticky aftermath on your skin. He lines himself up at your entrance, and youâre so wet, so open for him, that he slides in with barely any resistance. The stretch still hurtsâjust a littleâand he winces with you, kissing your cheek, your ear, whispering, âShh, you can take it. Youâre so good for me.â
You rake your nails down his back, desperate to pull him deeper, and he obliges, ramming into you with a force that makes the whole bed frame rattle. This time, he doesnât pace himselfâhe fucks you with abandon, every thrust a fierce apology, a vow, a plea for forgiveness. âPretty cunt was made for me, wasn't it baby?" he growls, the words muffled against your skin, and you believe him, every time.
He shifts your legs, bends you almost in half putting you into a mean mating press, and the new angle has him thrusting right against your g-spot. You claw helplessly at his arms, nails digging crescent moons into his biceps, and he just grins, sweat beading at his hairline, loving every second of your unravelling.
"'M not going to last... I'm g'na cum holy fuck Wooyoung," you moan out, feeling yourself edging closer to your own climax.
You feel him getting closeâhis rhythm falters, his hips jerk, his breath comes in ragged gasps. He slides a hand between your bodies, thumb circling your clit, determined to take you with him.
âOh fuckâCum fâme princess, make me proud.â
And you do, the orgasm ripping through you so violently that black spots dance at the edge of your vision. You scream, you sob, you babble his name like a prayer, and he follows, spilling inside you with a strangled cry. He shoves in deep, holds you there, and then collapses, pinning you to the mattress with the full weight of his body.
You lie like that for a long, breathless moment, your bodies trembling and tangled, sweat sticking you together, his cock still throbbing inside you as he pants in your ear. For a second you think heâs fallen asleep, but then he props himself up on one elbow and looks down at you, eyes shining, lips parted as if he might start crying all over again.
He rolls you onto your side, still joined, and wraps an arm around your waist, spooning you so tight you can barely move. You reach back and stroke his hair, feeling the way his whole body melts into your touchâthe tension draining from his muscles, the way his breath evens out. The world feels impossibly far away, like itâs just the two of you floating in a bed-shaped universe, nothing but heartbeats and skin and the mess youâve made of each other.
The room falls quiet, your breathing gradually slowing in tandem. Wooyoungâs arm tightens around you, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. âDonât move,â he whispers, his voice hoarse from use. âIâll be right back.â
He pulls out gently, and you whimper at the loss, feeling suddenly empty. But heâs already sliding from the bed, his naked body glistening with sweat as he pads to the bathroom. You hear water running, and then he returns with a warm washcloth in his hand.
âLet's get you cleaned up yeah?â he says, his eyes soft as he kneels beside you.
His touch is reverent as he cleans between your thighs, wiping away the evidence of your passion with gentle, circular motions. The warm cloth feels heavenly against your sensitive skin, and you sigh, your body relaxing into his care.
âBetter?â he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, too blissed-out to form words. He disappears again, returning with a glass of water that he holds to your lips. You drink greedily, not realizing how parched you were until the cool liquid slides down your throat.
âMore?â he asks, and you shake your head.
Wooyoung sets the glass aside and moves to his dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer. He rummages through it for a moment before pulling out a faded blue t-shirt that you recognize immediately. Itâs one of his oldest, the fabric soft from countless washes, the university logo barely visible anymore.
âArms up,â he murmurs, and you comply, letting him slip the oversized shirt over your head. It falls to mid-thigh, enveloping you in his scentâthat familiar mix of his cologne and something uniquely him that makes your chest ache with tenderness. He adjusts the collar, his fingers lingering at your neck, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
âPerfect,â he whispers, his eyes warm as they take you in.
You watch as he pulls on a pair of boxers and a simple white t-shirt, his movements languid, unhurried. Thereâs something intimate about watching him dressâthe way his muscles flex beneath his skin, the casual grace of his movements. He catches you looking and says nothing, just gives you a small, tired smile before he climbs back into bed, pulling you against him. His fingers begin to trace lazy patterns on your arm, up and down, the touch so light it makes you shiver.
âI love you,â he murmurs into your hair. âI hope you know that I adore you so much.â
You turn in his arms to face him, finding his eyes in the dim light of the bedroom. Thereâs something raw and vulnerable in his gaze that makes your heart ache.
âI know,â you say, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead. âI love you too.â
He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. âIâm going to do better. I promise.â
âI believe you, I know you will,â you whisper, and you do.
He pulls you closer, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. The bracelet he gave you catches the light, the tiny compass charm glinting. He brings your wrist up to his lips and places a kiss on the charm, a silent reminder for you thatâll heâll always be your north. No matter where you are, heâll always be there for you.
âIâve got you,â he coos, his voice dropping to that impossibly soft register he only uses in these moments. âIâm here, I'm not going anywhere.â
You hum in acknowledgment, too far gone for words. He softly chuckles at your sleepiness. His hand resumes its journey down your spine, each vertebra a landmark he maps with infinite patience. Another yawn overtakes you, your eyes watering at the corners. Wooyoung brushes away the tears with his thumb, his touch reverent.
âMy beautiful girl,â he whispers. âMy whole heart.â
A melody begins to form beneath his breathâsomething soft and wordless that you recognize from nights when sleep wouldnât come, when anxiety gripped your throat. His chest vibrates with the sound, a lullaby composed of nothing but his love for you. Your consciousness begins to drift, the edges of your thoughts blurring like watercolours on wet paper. The scent of himâclean sweat and that cologne heâs worn since the day you metâwraps around you like a second blanket.
âI love you,â he whispers, his lips brushing your temple. âHappy anniversary, my love. I promise to make every one from now on better than the last.â
The words follow you down into darkness, a tether to the world youâre leaving behind. The future for the both of you still holds challengesâhis career wonât become less demanding overnight, and youâll both need to work to maintain the balance youâre rebuilding. But as Wooyoungâs arms tighten around you, as you feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, you know youâll face those challenges together.
Because love isnât about never making mistakes. Itâs about having the courage to admit when youâre wrong, and the strength to keep trying, even when itâs hard. And as the morning light spills across the tangled sheets and your intertwined bodies, you know thatâs exactly what you haveânot a perfect love, but a real one.
ruin it / idol&model jwy x makeup artist fem!reader
word count: 2.4k
WARNINGS/TAGS NSFW NO MINORS. dirty talk. pet names like good girl/pretty girl etc. praise/light degradation. nothing super crazy..? oral (f receiving). fingering (f receiving). p in v. unprotected sex (don't do it!). light choking. he finishes in her (pregnancy doesn't exist in my fics). cum eating. a little sappy at the end. if i missed anything let me know.
none of my stories are meant to depict ATEEZ as their real selves. my works are entirely fantasy and meant for fun. this is my first longer(?) fic so please bear with me as i learn and improve. enjoy~
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he'd been looking at you from the minute he stepped on set.
at first you'd thought it was a fluke, just an accidental glance. he was bound to make eye contact with everyone at least a few times- but the glances never stopped.
you were just his makeup artist, someone assigned to this job by the studio. you hadn't chosen it, hadn't even truly blinked an eye at it. you'd heard of this particular idol before, jung wooyoung. you'd also heard a few songs by his group, ATEEZ, but you hadn't bothered to search him up before coming in. today was just like any other day- you were slightly tired from the lack of sleep you'd been getting but ready to do your best. these shoots were exciting for all involved, and you were eager to provide your part well.
unfortunately, that was all before you saw him.
his raw beauty hit you like a brick wall, slamming the air from your lungs as if you'd physically hit the ground. he'd come in comfortable clothes, easy to change out of. his face was gorgeously bare, his smile wide and comfortable, putting everyone around him at ease. but it wasn't just his looks that took you by surprise, it was his easy demeanor, talking kindly with everyone around him, looking genuinely interested in each conversation.
you bit your lip, sucking in a breath. you were just as active in the world of idols as anyone in your field, it was part of your job. you weren't, by any means, unaccustomed to beautiful men. so why was this one shaking you to your very core? dangerous. it was a dangerous game, and you couldn't afford to play it.
-
"You're my makeup artist for today?" wooyoung's voice was soft, gentle even, as you tapped your brush against his already perfect skin. He sat comfortably in the chair of the dressing room. other people were flitting around the room, carrying clothes or other supplies, the hum of conversation putting you at ease with being so close to him.
"Mhm," you hummed. "You have beautiful features to work with. You'll look very pretty today." You chewed your lip as you focused on your work, willfully ignoring the smile that your words had brought out of wooyoung, and definitely ignoring the fact that that he had the most beautiful nose you'd ever seen. you were not thinking about how that nose would feel between your legs. you weren't.
you glanced up from what you were doing, accidentally making eye contact, only to watch helplessly as wooyoung's gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. you turned around hastily, rummaging through your supplies for something you didn't need. you were imagining things, and it was going to get you in trouble.
but wooyoung was sharper than many idols you'd met, his eyes searching your face, logging every minute change in your expression as you continued to work, his beautifully asymmetrical eyes never leaving you. you tried to keep your indifferent mask intact and were failing miserably, something you'd berate yourself for later. when had you become so unprofessional, so susceptible? a hot blush began to rise to your cheeks and you hoped to every power in the universe that he wouldn't notice.
your eyes accidentally met again as you tapped powder into his skin. what Wooyoung saw in your expression, you didn't know. didn't want to know, honestly, as something imperceptible flashed through his eyes. but he merely leaned back after that, smirking slightly and let you work.
it was nothing, you kept repeating to yourself. it meant nothing that even after he left your chair, you couldn't escape that gaze. it meant nothing that after every pose, every outfit change, you kept finding his eyes on you. so often that it began to feel like a performance, a dance only the two of you were aware of. your stomach, on the other hand, felt like it was going to twist in on itself.
but it was addicting, having his eyes on you. it made your toes curl in your shoes, your underwear uncomfortably soaked for most of the day and your thighs pressing together as you sat and waited for him between sessions.
the cameras flashed as he posed, biting the shirt's fabric between his teeth and baring his toned stomach. you let your eyes drag down his torso in a moment of indulgence, your mouth watering at the thought of what was underneath the layers of fabric that sat lower. you jumped slightly when you looked back up to his face, finding his eyes already on you.
fuck. you blew out a breath, counting down the hours until this torture would end.
-
the rest of the shoot passed the same. you observing, touching him up when needed, hoping he couldn't detect your hammering heartbeat when you had to enter his personal space. it sent heat flaring down your spine every time his gaze caught you, edging you toward an unbearable need for release by the end of the day.
you were a trembling mess, desperate to get home, to take the edge off whatever the fuck had happened today. you'd gone back to one of the many dressing rooms in the large studio, leaning on one of the dressing tables and closing your eyes. you breathed in deeply. if this was how you were reacting to your clients now, you needed to get a handle on it. quickly.
your eyes snapped open when you felt a prickle on the back of your neck, a small gasp leaving you at what you saw in the reflection of the large mirror in front of you.
it was fucking wooyoung, leaning against the doorframe behind you. the blond extensions the hairstylists had added had been taken out, but the makeup you'd done had been left untouched. you curled your fingers into a fist, digging your nails into your palm on the counter. this day was really testing you.
"did you... did you need something, wooyoung?" you tripped over the words, cursing yourself as your obvious fluster brought that damn smirk back to his lips.
"I want you to ruin the makeup you did."
you didn't fully register the sentence as you spun around, your eyes drinking in every detail of his expression.
"ruin the- what?"
"the makeup you did on me. i want you to ruin it." wooyoung's voice was slow and deliberate, each syllable hitting you right in your core. his easygoing demeanor from earlier nowhere to be seen, replaced with something darker that caused pleasure to coil tightly between your thighs.
"why would you want that?" you breathed, scared to move for fear of shattering any last bit of professionalism you had.
"because I want you." his tone was one of finality as he crossed the room, the door shutting behind him with a click that made you shiver.
your mouth was dry, every single word you knew leaving you as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the sight nearly making you orgasm on the spot.
"i've been watching you all day, pretty. tell me you weren't thinking about me too. tell me that and i'll leave without another word."
god, this wasn't happening. this couldn't be happening. your breath came quicker, your hands shaking as you gripped the counter behind you for any sense of stability.
"i was," you whispered. "all day."
wooyoung groaned, the sound shooting electricity through you.
"can I touch you?" his deep brown eyes bore into yours, pleading, his hands obediently at his sides until he got an answer.
you breathed in sharply and nodded, your words failing you completely. yes, you wanted him to touch you. you wanted him to devour you, to absolutely fucking ruin you.
"words, baby, I need to hear it." his voice was strained, his hands clenching on his thighs.
"yes," you whined quickly, "please-"
you barely got the word out before he reached underneath your skirt, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulling them down in one fluid motion. of course they were still soaked, they had been for hours. the sight pulled another beautiful groan from him.
"you were this wet for me all day, baby?" his tone dropped to a growl and you merely whined again, gripping the back of the dressing table.
wooyoung pushed your skirt up until the fabric bunched around your waist, the cool air hitting your hot skin and raising goosebumps. you and all your desire were totally exposed to him, only making you wetter. he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his mouth inches from where you needed it, from where you were spread open for him, your cunt practically pulsing.
wooyoung merely pressed featherlight kisses to the inside of your thighs, teasing you, his gorgeous nose and lips skimming your skin. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long, pretty girl. you were so good for me, waiting all day, needing me so bad."
his filthy words pulled a moan from your lips just as he dove into your heat with no warning, his tongue licking a stripe up your clit, hot and wet and giving. your eyes rolled back at the immediate ecstasy.
"fuck, wooyoung-" you thrust your hand into his hair, gripping it tightly as he worked you with his mouth, licking and sucking in ways that had you begging mindlessly, grinding into his mouth. you gasped when you felt the pad of his finger teasing your entrance, his mouth pulling off your clit with a pop.
"can i put my fingers inside you, baby?"
"yes, fuck, please," you moaned, desperate to be filled, desperate to be full of him.
you got your wish immediately, his finger slipping in with little resistance, pumping a few times before a second one joined it, curling up to rub against a spot that made you cry out.
"that's it, pretty girl, cry for me," wooyoung gritted out before resuming his work with his mouth. his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked with the perfect amount of pressure to make your orgasm slam into you with his name on your mouth. your legs nearly buckled as he caught your weight, working you through the waves of pleasure until it became too much and you pushed him away.
every single thought had vanished from your mind that wasn't related to the man in front of you.
his makeup was indeed ruined, your arousal spread across his nose and those plush lips like gloss. his eyes never left yours as he licked them clean, then brought his drenched fingers to his mouth, sucking off every last drop that he'd pulled out of you. you felt your core tighten again, incredulous.
he made you fucking insatiable, and you'd just met today.
he quickly gathered you in his arms, laying you down on a couch on the opposite side of the dressing room and pushing your thighs apart, your core glistening.
"fuck," he whispered. "can i fuck you, pretty girl?"
"please," you begged. "please, i need it-"
wooyoung's pants were off before the last syllable left your lips. his hand palmed his throbbing cock, flushed a pretty red that made your mouth water. lining himself up with your entrance, he began to push in, making you gasp.
"such a good girl, being such a good little toy for me, taking me so well," wooyoung's voice was low and dark, lips grazing the shell of your ear and over your mouth as he worked himself into you, each inch a delicious stretch that had your nerves overloaded with pleasure until he was fully seated, your clit throbbing against his abdomen.
wooyoung reached up to wrap a hand around your throat as he began to move. your brain went pleasantly hazy at the restriction, all that was left of your senses zeroed in to the place where you connected. his cock felt heavenly inside of you, hitting you in all the perfect places.
"are you such a fucking slut that you were waiting all day for me to take you like this?" his fingers moved from your throat to parting your lips, sliding two into your mouth and settling them heavily against your tongue as he fucked you harder. "is this what you were thinking about? my cock inside of you?"
you moaned wantonly against his fingers, sucking them with as much focus as you could manage as he fucked you into oblivion.
"i'll give you what you wanted, pretty girl." he was breathless now, a light sheen of sweat gathering at his temples from the exertion. over and over he slammed into you, each thrust making you see stars, his fingers muffling your cries.
you could feel his hips stuttering, letting you know he was close. he removed his fingers from your mouth, allowing your cries to come at full volume as he pressed his fingers into your clit, rubbing it in tight circles. you were so fucking close, and he could feel it.
"be a good girl and cum for me, baby. let me you see you look so fucking pretty coming apart for me." his praise sent you over the edge into your second orgasm, your core clenching down onto his cock as he swore and followed his own release down, fucking it deep into you.
you were bordering on overstimulation when he finally slowed. tears beginning to prick at your eyes, wooyoung brushed a finger over your bottom lip as you whined quietly.
"shh, i know," he murmured, gently pulling out of you as he brushed your hair from where it had gotten stuck to your forehead. "so beautiful, baby. you did so good."
you were too fucked out to notice that he'd dropped to his knees in front of you once more, a gasp leaving you at the first swipe of his tongue over your entrance.
"wooyoung, i can't-" you moaned, but he merely pressed your shaking thighs apart, continuing to lap up his own release that was leaking from inside you until he'd swallowed every drop he could reach.
every nerve inside of you was on fire as he finally pulled away, leaning up to kiss you with the salty taste of pleasure on those gorgeous, plush lips before gathering you gently in his arms.
"thank you," he murmured gently, kissing the top of your head. "for your amazing work today, and for ruining it." you could hear the smile in his voice, and through the afterglow of pleasure you thought that you wanted this moment to last forever.
A/N: hiiii this is so different from what iâm used to writing. I hope you enjoy it! Iâm a little nervous, this is pulled from a chapter of a full length fic Iâm working on! I donât know if Iâll ever finish it to share the full thing. Or people would even like the premise so⊠idk. Maybe one day đ„č anyway thank you for taking the time to read my stuff. please check out my Masterlist
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, Daddy!dom!Yunho, sub!partner, uses She/Her pronouns, use of pet names (angel mostly), use of Daddy (not in a parental way), a little objectification if you squint, (âthingâ used), thereâs slight talk about body insecurities, mirror play, orgasm denial, rules, mentions of punishment(none in this),some choking⊠please let me know if i missed anything majorâŠ
Word count: 5,128
âWeâre going to do something special tonight.â He hummed as she did her makeup. âIâve been saving this gift for this occasion.â He passed her a bag, red and white tissue paper sticking out. âI want you to wear this for me, and stay in here until I say.â
She nodded, âYes, of course Daddy.â
âGood girl.â he praised kissing the bridge of her nose before leaving the room and shutting the door.
She finished her makeup and tore open the gift bag. Inside pretty red lingerie with black details and lace. She beamed at how beautiful it was and rushed to put it on. At the bottom of the bag, a red velvet dress. She slipped into it easily, and admired the complete look in the full body mirror in the corner of their room. She quickly looked over herself, she hadnât felt this beautiful in a while. Yunho really picked out a winner.
Then, she waited for a while. She couldnât gauge how long. Until finally he came back into the room. She immediately made her way to him, her hands on his chest as he admired her.
âYou look beautiful, baby.â He breathed, âMaybe weâll skip the surprise and just stay hereâŠâ
She giggled as his hands moved up her waist then down over her ass. âShow me, please.â She pouts up at him. He chuckles, nodding. âOkay just give me a few minutes to change. First, Iâm going to blindfold you.â
She swallows, a little anxious at the thought but she nods. He moves toward the dresser pulling out a red scarf. She stands still as he places it around her eyes and ties it tightly. âSit.â He directed, and she did as he said on the edge of the bed. She waited anxiously as she heard him shuffling around changing. After a few minutes he made his way back to her. âIâm going to wait for you in the kitchen. Count to ten. Take off the blindfold and join me.â
âOkay.â She nodded, and then she started to count.
On ten she takes off the blind fold and moves toward the door and when she opens it the hallway is glowing in a warm light. Mini fake candles lined the hallway, flickering like they were real. She followed them down the hall to the small two person table she and Yunho shared most meals at. The table was lit with real candles, tall ones, two places set, Yunho standing there. He changed into a clean white button-up, some nice dress pants, his hands in his pockets. The sleeves of the white button-up rolled up. âI figured since we canât go out⊠I would bring the restaurant experience here.â She beams, rushing over to him, wrapping her arms around him.
âItâs beautiful.â She smirked, âThank you, Daddy.â He leaned down to kiss her before guiding her over to her seat. Pulling it out like a real gentleman, letting her sit and scoot forward before taking his seat. Pouring her some wine before they ate together. The plate looked as good as it smelled. Everything was delicious. They talked for a bit and laughed. It was perfect.
âYou cooked, Iâll do the dishes.â
âNot tonight. Not in that dress.â He wrapped his hand around her wrist, and pulled her toward him. âWeâll wash in the morning. For now, I want you to freshen up. Go to the room and kneel for me, in front of the mirror in the corner of the room⊠Weâre going to have a little training session.â He looked up at her, and she shifted.
âOh⊠okayâŠâ She swallowed. âTraining?â
âMhm.â He nods, âItâll be easy. I promise.â
âOkay.â She nods.
âCâmere.â He hums and she leans toward him, his lips kissing her cheek, and then her knuckles. âDo as I say.â He whispers, and she nods, making her way toward the room.
She doesnât know what he means by freshen up, so she checks her makeup. She fixed a little bit of smudged lipstick, washed her hands in the bathroom, reapplied perfume, and then made her way toward the mirror. She hesitated but got down on the floor, on her knees like he asked. She inhaled deeply, exhaling through her mouth as she glanced herself over. Then she waited.
She wondered if it was some kind of test. Maybe a test of patience. She was growing impatient, kneeling on the floor waiting for him. Her eyes had left the mirror and stayed away. She couldnât stare at herself anymore, feeling uncomfortable with her own reflection. When she finally heard him making his way toward the door she straightened herself out watching the door through the mirror. When he walked in he smirked to himself, closing the door and making his way toward her. His hand comes down to gently brush over her hair, her eyes closing as she warmed into his touch.
âLook into the mirror.â He hums softly, her head turning as the command leaves his lips. âGood girl.â She looks at herself a bit longer, he just stands there with her. Watching. She shifted, growing uncomfortable, her eyes slowly starting to pan up to look at him. âNo,â He breathes, âAt yourself.â She nods, looking down but back at herself. âTell me something you like about yourself.â
She almost laughs, but he looks too serious to be joking. She lets out a silent shaky breath, she knows heâs waiting. âMy⊠my makeup.â She takes an easy option. Something she is proud of.
âGood.â He smirks, âWhat do you like about it?â
She shrugs. He raises his eyebrows. âNot an acceptable answer. Try again.â
âIt makes me feel prettyâŠâ She whispers, shifting again, taking a deep breath in before exhaling.
âPerfect answer.â He hums, âMy pretty girl. I like it too. I like the way you take your time and perfect every step.â Her body warms at his words, her heart skipping and her stomach starting to erupt with butterflies. âYou look beautiful without it, but you look beautiful with it on too.â She canât hide the smile on her lips as she looks down, âUh uh.â He sighs, âKeep looking.â She flashes her eyes back up, âNow pick out your favorite feature.â
She bites the inside of her cheek. She hadnât thought much about that. She spent a lot of time avoiding the mirror. Avoiding looking at herself for too long. Doing her makeup, that was different. For her that was like doing art. It wasnât to focus on her face, on her features. This time the wave of heat that sweeps over her is something different. Embarrassment or maybe shame. âDonât do that.â He whispers, âDonât overthink it. Donât get in your head.â He kneels down beside her, still towering, âClose your eyes, take a deep breathâŠâ
She does just that. Swallows, opens her eyes. âNow pick something.â
âI like⊠my eyes.â She breathes.
âPerfect.â He smiles, âYou have beautiful eyes.â He smirks, and she turns her head to look up at him. âYouâre doing so well.â He praises, he takes his hand, using his knuckles to sweep gently down her cheek, under her chin. His thumb sweeps over her skin, his lips move in and he kisses her. âWhat else?â
âMy skin.â She breathes, looking back at herself. âI like how it glows.â
âKeep going.â
âM⊠My lip shape is nice too.â Though her lips tremble she manages a soft smile.
âI love those lips, baby.â He coos, âYouâre doing so, so well.â He leans in and kisses her cheek, moving behind her, his hands move down over her shoulders. She warms into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as he runs his big hands down her back, and then over her hips. His hands reach her thighs, fingers spreading out over her exposed skin. She arches back into him, involuntarily. âYou look so beautiful in this dress, but itâs time to get it off you.â He breathes into the crook of her neck, his lips pressing into the sensitive spot there. She bites her lip, holding back a moan just because of the tone of his voice, the small deep sounds that he makes. His fingers curl under the hem of the dress, and he slowly starts to peel it off her.
Once itâs off he leans back into her, his lips pressing into the skin of her shoulders, up to her neck. She tilts her head to give him more room, as he begins to mark her there. Tongue, teeth, and lips working to mark her as his own. His hands move over her now exposed areas, her stomach, her thighs, her chest. Over the lace and satin his fingers travel and press into her skin. She whimpers as he pulls away from her, âLook at yourself.â He breathes, her eyes snapping forward as his eyes peer up at her reflection. âWhat else? What about your body?â
Her breath hitches. If she had trouble finding something she liked on her face, her body would be near impossible. She looked, her lips turning down into a frown her eyes falling to the floor beneath her. âI⊠I donât know.â
âNow, AngelâŠâ He sings, âUnacceptable answer.â His hand slips lower, between her thighs, her center throbbing, aching for him. She whimpers as his fingers graze the fabric and push against her center. A gasp leaving her lips as she arches further against him. âI love your skin, itâs soft, it smells like you. I love your throat,â His opposite hand moved up around her throat as he said it, âYour chest. Your shoulders. Your stomach. Your thighs.â He continued, âYour legs. The way your skin reacts to my touch. The way it flushes when I touch you⊠Now you tell me what you like.â
Her head becomes increasingly hazy as his fingers tease her center, she wants to give him an answer, wants to please him. She canât help but try to chase the pressure of his hand, grinding against his hand, âI-IâŠâ She whines.
âI only like you dumb when Iâm buried inside of you.â He growls, âSo figure it out.â He pulls away from her, completely. Her breathing labored as she watched him stand up. Her bottom lip trembles, she looks at herself, her skin tinted red from the flush. Her chest heaving. She has tears in her eyes, her hands move up and she wraps her arms around herself. âYou can do it.â He coos, âI want you to see how truly beautiful you are.â He unbuttons his shirt. letting it drop lightly onto the floor, unbuckling his bottoms next. âYouâre doing so well. Donât give up on me now.â He coos as he gets them off.
She canât help but frown and pout. She swallows back the growing lump in her throat, and bites her trembling bottom lip. He kneels back beside her, his hands wrapping around to grab her wrists, pulling her arms back away from hiding herself. âYouâre breaking rulesâŠâ He breathes, his mouth hovering over her ear, âAre you asking to be punished?â
âN-no.â She whimpers, âIâll do better.â
âMmm.â He nods, âYou will.â
âI- I like the way this lingerie fits me.â She managed, âIt fits my shape. I look hot.â
He gasps, kissing her cheek, âThatâs my smart girl.â He hums, âSee, you can do it. You look fucking amazing in this set.â
One of his hands starts to travel back down, this time he slips beneath the fabric, cupping her heat groaning at how wet she already was for him, how warm she felt. She whines as his fingertips glide over her skin, just teasing. âDaddy.â She whimpers, âPlease.â He breathes out a short chuckle, his fingers dipping just slightly into her, just enough to tease her further. She leans her head back, opening her eyes to him, âPlease more.â She blinks batting her lashes, a smirk spreading across his lips.
âYou think your pretty eyes can get whatever you want, donât you?â He purrs, âUse my hand. Show me how bad you want it.â She whines, without looking away from him she reaches for his hand and presses his fingers into her, deeper, a breathy moan leaving her lips as she grinds against his fingers. âFeel good, angel?â
âMhm.â She bites her bottom lip.
âEyes on the mirror, look at yourself.â She tilts her head back up, swallowing when she takes in the sight of her pushing his fingers into herself. Her hips grinding forward to chase more of him. His long arm stretched down without much effort. âLook at my greedy girl. You always want more. You deserve more. You deserve the world.â She moans at his words, watching as her chest heaved and her bottom lip gets drawn into her mouth by her teeth. She catches the glimpse of him, watching, enjoying. His lips press into her shoulder again, his eyes staying on her, making sure sheâs still watching. She continues using his hand, trying to chase the feeling thatâs starting to build in her lower stomach. Then he takes back control. He curls his fingers in, deeper than she could get them and she lets out a loud moan as he pads that spot deep inside of her. âHow is that? Better?â
âFuckâŠâ She gasps, âSoo good, Daddy. Thank you.â He growls at her words, his teeth grazing her skin as he watches.
âI love when your mouth falls open like that.â He hums, âLike a dumb little doll.â He pumps his fingers now, curling them and pulling more sounds from her. âLetâs clear your head? Yeah?â He growls, nipping on her earlobe and making her cry out more. She grinds down against his hand, clenching around his fingers whining and whimpering as she moves. Every movement causing more arousal, more sounds, her body starting to act involuntarily as she melts into his chest. Sheâs close, so close she can taste it. Until he pulls out of her, causing her to gasp and reach for his hand. âYou didnât ask.â
âDaddy IâŠâ She whines, âI was going to!â
âI canât see the future, baby.â He sighs, âYouâre making such a mess in your new linngerie.â She pouts again, turning to look back at him. âItâs okay⊠itâs my fault⊠I wanted you to empty your head. I want you to forget how to speak.â He sighs, âBend over, face up to the mirror.â
She moves without hesitation, her palms against the floor as she gets closer to the mirror, his hand sliding down her back and toward himself. He groans at the sight of her while running his hands over her ass. He runs his fingers over her red underwear with a visible dark mark from her arousal. He reaches to tear them off her hips, peeling them down and off her. Her knees move so he can pull them off fully tossing them to the side, revealing her completely to him. Another sound rolls from his mouth, something deep and vibrating. Something that sounds like delight. His fingers move over her soaking center, through her folds, making her whimper. He watches in the mirror as she closes her eyes and moans when he pushes his fingers back into her, knuckles deep, his eyes coming back to watch her take him. Sheâs tight, even with just his fingers and he stretches and pumps into her slowly. It pulls more from her, his fingers glistening, his mouth watering.
âLook into the mirror, tell yourself whoâs Daddyâs pretty little thing?â
âI amâŠâ She breathes, opening her eyes looking at herself.
âSay it fully.â
âIâm⊠Daddyâs pretty little thing.â Her moan comes out breathy and strained. He pushes in deep, curling his fingers and holding there. Ripping another sound from her throat as he moves his fingers inside of her.
âAgain.â
âAh⊠Iâm Daddyâs pretty little thing.â She arches into his touch and he pulls out again, making her whimper and pout, breathing heavily. She watches as he stands up getting his boxers off, before getting back on the floor. She can see how hard he is, his tip leaking precum, his veins prominent. He strokes himself before lining himself up and pressing forward. She gasps as he fills her out in one swift stroke forward, a grunt leaving his lips as she pulsed forward. His hands reach to guide her hips back to him, her mouth falling open as he slowly brings her all the way back on his length.
âAgainâŠâ He groans, âLook at yourself and say it again.â
She looks at herself, âIâm⊠Daddyâs pretty little thing.â She trembles, and he guides her hips slowly sliding slowly off him and then swiftly back onto him, taking her breath away.
âAgainâŠâ He thrusts into her harshly a sharp cry leaving her as he does.
âIâm Daddyâs pretty little thing-â
Another rough thrusts makes her lose her words, her mouth falling open as she mewls. Her head falling from looking at herself. A little fire inside of her started to grow, she needed more. He breathed heavily surging forward again forcing the breath out of her and she shook. His hand reached to grab her chin and force her head back up to look. âLook at yourself. Look how pretty you look like this.â He steadily rocks into her, holding her chin up, her eyes half lidded and watery as he hit that spot deep inside of her. She clenched around him, and she did look at herself. How desperate and needy and fucked out she looked.
Her eyes findYunho behind her. His muscles flexing under his skin, face flushed, bottom lip between his teeth as he looked at her. Them. He always looked beautiful to her and even more now. Eyebrows furrowed, burying himself inside of her, eyes focused, concentration as he moved steadily. She thought he looked beautiful. He let out a strangled moan, his voice shaking as she clenched harder around him, her orgasm growing fast.
âDaddy, please.â She cried, âYou feel so fucking- Ah.â She shook, as he slammed into her even harder, her words leaving.
âItâs getting harder to think now, isnât it?â He rasped, âFocus. Breathe. Tell me what you want.â
Her fingers clenched into the carpet beneath her, she moaned and swallowed hard, her breath catching as he slammed into her harder. She grits her teeth, the sound of him pounding into her like music to her ears. âPlease Daddy, let me cum.â She manages in a weak voice. He moans at her request pulling her up pressing her back against his chest, the new angle is devastating. She trembles and groans, âPlease can I?â She looks up at him, her eyes big and watery as he holds her there, stopping his movements. Her walls flutter and clench around him, her body begging for release as she holds back.
âNot yet.â He coos, one of his hands slipping down her body, down to her clit. He doesnât rub or roll his fingers, he lightly taps and makes her writhe in his arms. He chuckles at her, âMy pretty little thing, you want to cum so bad donât you?â She nods, trying to still herself, though her body trembles. She can feel her orgasm, feel it threatening her. Taunting her. Just like Yunho liked to do.
âPlease.â She whines and pouts and he lets out a strangled moan.
âSay it again, tell me youâre my pretty little thing.â
âIâmâ She breathes a heavy sigh, âIâm your pretty little thing.â
âFuck yeah, you are.â He moans his own cock twitching inside of her, âMy pretty girl. My perfect smart girl.â She whines, shaking, holding back the best she can, âCum with me.â He growls and he pounds up into her, his fingers rolling over her clit as she starts to unravel. Her body tensing and shaking all at once. âGod.â He lets out a strangled moan, clenching his hold on her as he starts to spill out into her again. âLook at you.â A hand clamps around her cheeks as he turns her attention to the mirror.
She looked gone, he looked gone. Both red in the face, trembling, sweaty. She whimpered as she continued shaking. Her eyes focused on him, his eyes focused on her. He pulls out of her, and he lets her down gently. She takes a few seconds to breath, the aftershocks making her weak. His hands reached for her, rubbing over her skin lightly as he tried to catch his breath too.
She pushes herself up, turning toward him. Closing the small gap between them. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders, her head leaning on his shoulder. One hand smoothing down her back, the other holding her head against him. âYou did so well for your training, baby.â He smirked, âI am so proud of you.â She glowed from his praise, leaning into him to kiss him. His hands moving down her back in unison, over her ass, lifting her slightly before pulling her back onto his lap. They kiss, slowly. Tongues moving against one another, small sounds leaving both of them as their lips move together.
Then she feels him, hard again, ready for more. He glides her against him, not pushing in, just teasing again. Letting his tip bump her clit, fresh arousal coating him. She muffles a moan biting her bottom lip as he kisses her chest. Then she pulls her up, her knees on either side of his waist, before sitting her back down on his tip.
She sinks down slowly, feeling every inch as she fully sits on it. âFuck.â She whimpers at the feeling of him filling her back up, her hands trembling. He held her still even as she tried to move. She moaned as he ran his hands up her back and easily unhooked her bra, and slipped it off her.
âLet me see you.â He breathed, and she pulled back his eyes on hers as she shifted, a small sound leaving her lips. His eyes dropped from hers, down to her lips, then trailed down her neck and chest all the way down to where they connected. He moans at the sight of her wrapped around him tightly like a bow. He guides her hips along him, she leans back, her hands reaching back for his legs, letting him move her body for her. She moans louder than before, her head falling back at the feeling of him gliding into her, every drag of his long cock pulling sounds out of her, making her head spin as she leans forward again, her lips searching for his lips and finding them. âThatâs itâŠâ He moans into her mouth, her tongue slipping into his mouth and moving with his again. She sucks on his tongue as she starts to get needy again.
She starts to move on her own, starting to chase her own high, beginning to bounce on him in a steady rhythm. Even as her thighs start burning she doesn't care. She needs to keep feeling every inch, her walls squeezing him as she rides him. He moaned into her mouth and drew back his head, his lips finding her chest. His tongue swept against her skin as she moved, her eyes clenched as he kissed and licked her chest.
She slows her movements when her legs start to shake, unable to keep her pace and Yunho chuckles as she whines. âItâs okay⊠Iâve got you.â He guides her again, âRoll your hips like that, angel. Doesnât that feel good?â She shakes her head moaning in response, âWords, use them.â
âYesâŠâ She breathes, âSo good.â She throws her head back, her stomach starting to tighten as she lets a weepy moan out. She continues to move her hips with his help. âIâm close⊠IâmâŠâ He grabs her throat quickly, her breath catching. It only makes her pleasure more prominent, she cries out a choked sob as he groans at the way she clenches around him.
âAsk nicely.â He purrs, âAsk nicely and Iâll let you cum again.â
âPlease⊠Please let me cum.â She whimpers and he chuckles, with one hand he lifts her off him only to let her fall back down, the feeling of him filling her to the brim makes her head spin she almost loses it. The pleasure is intense, making fireworks go off in her body. Another choked sob leaving her. Her legs start to shake, her knees buckling as he brings her mouth to him. He kisses her.
âDonât cum yet.â He breathes lifting her again, the tip of his cock finding her g-spot and he pulls her back down, harshly. The slap of skin on skin loud as she gasps.
âOhâ Oh my god!â She cries, âPlease, Daddy. PleaseâŠâ Her voice shakes like sheâs crying, he knows heâs getting to her. He knows sheâs close and right on the edge. He knows itâs mean to deny her, but watching her beg. Watching the way she made big eyes at him, leaning into the hold around her throat. He was eating it up. She started to tear up when he lifted her again and brought her back down harshly, his own orgasm starting to boil over. He groans.
âPlease⊠pleaseâŠâ He taunts, pouting at her. She whimpers and he lifts her again, her legs shaking as he holds her there. He has to ground himself. His own cock ready to release into her again.
âPlease⊠PleaseâŠâ She cried, âI canât⊠I canât.â Her words turn to air as he moves her again, and then finally.
âCum.â He breathes out a long groan, his head falling back, his eyes rolling. Her whole body goes almost numb, tingling like radio static beneath her skin, she cries out, gushes around him, lets him hold her up. Her vision blacks out, her head in the clouds as his grip around her throat tightened to almost no air. Her thighs clenched around his waist, and she couldnât even feel his cum being pumped inside of her. Not this time, this was like heaven. Her breathing was shaky and she held onto Yunho like sheâd float away if not. And he groaned and shook with her.
âThank you, daddy.â She mewled as they both panted, trying to catch their breath. He pulled her back into him, his lips finding hers messily. She warms into him, when he pulls away from kissing her she nuzzles into the crook of his neck.
âYou did so well.â He breathed, âYou deserve a treat.â He pulls her off him, pulling her up with him, her legs feeling like jello as she stands. He pulls her toward him kissing her forehead and bridge of her nose while walking her back toward the bed. âLay down, get comfortable.â She moves slowly on wobbling limbs like a newborn deer, but lays back on the bed. He crawls toward her, his eyes stuck on her as he stops between her legs, he pulls her knees over his shoulders before dipping down. âYou get a free one. One where you donât have to askâŠâ He hums, nose grazing her heat, âIâll be too busy burying my tongue inside of you to give you permission anyway.â His words have her whimpering.
He dips down to her sensitive center, his tongue already lapping at her and making her arch herself toward his mouth. He dives in like a man starved, his tongue working to lap up every single drop from her. She already is shaking, already whining and near crying. He buries his face inside of her, his nose nudging her clit as he fucked her with his tongue. He moaned and groaned into her, his cock already getting hard just from the way she sounded and tasted. One hand grabs his hair and it acts like a trigger, to make him more feral. He growls as his hands move to push her thighs up and apart. Her stomach clenched as he moved his lips to her clit. He sucked and rolled his tongue over her sensitive bud, making her cry out again. She could feel another orgasm already bubbling in her stomach, already making her eyes roll back and back arch off the bed. She was gone, her body on fire, her soul leaving her body.
She trembled and cried as he sucked and licked and held her down beneath him. Her body pliant and adjusting to him as he dove in and ate her out like she was his last meal. His fingers gripped into her skin so tightly she felt like he would leave marks, her one hand still gripping his hair the other grasping for the blankets beneath her. She was grateful she didnât have to ask permission, because she couldnât hold back any longer. Her head falling back into the mattress.
âDa-ah!â She sobbed, and she came, hard. Her body locking up, her vision white, her brain powered down. She didnât realize the mess she made, she didnât realize Yunho had started to climb back up to her. She didnât realize she was shaking so hard until Yunho reached for her. She babbled and curled into him and rested against his chest, unable to control her body. He held her through it, let her decompress, kissed her forehead and ran his hand through her hair.
âThank you.â She whispered, so low he almost didnât hear it. He pulled her against him and stroked her hair and ran his thumb over her cheek. She slowly pushed herself up, âI shouldâŠâ She reached down, as if she was going to return the favor.
âNoâŠâ He hums, âNo, you did enough for me.â She trembled as he pulled her hand up to his mouth, his lips pressing into her knuckles. âLetâs get you cleaned up, yeah? A nice hot shower and bath?â She smiles, nodding as he slowly helps her up.
She knew he could keep going, maybe he even wanted too. But he didnât, he helped her to the bathroom instead. He jumped in the shower with her, washed her hair, and cleaned her body. His once rough touches turned gentle and sweet. His lips pressing into skin, no teeth, no tongue, just softness. He ran a bath, added bubbles, and lit candles. Let her sink to her shoulders, and close her eyes and breathe. His hand was only there to hold hers and sooth her skin. When he helps her out heâs getting her into soft pajamas and helping her into bed. He brings her water and tucks her in. He runs his hand over her head, down her body but only cuddling into her. Then, he holds her until sheâs sleeping.
Ugh, As If: Hongjoong is not someone you should be attracted to, especially considering everything thatâs on your plate in your final semester at university. Unfortunately for you, he has some sound suggestions for helping you cure your insomniaâŠ
Bonus: You visit Hongjoong during a busy Valentine's Day at Outlaw Leather expecting to take a class on making cute heart-shaped leather keychains. What you don't expect is the presents he's got for you after class.
Bonus Bonus: Hongjoong promises he'll take care of you but only after you've turned in your report.
sadness, anger, happiness, that boy sure knows how to make your senses tingle, and itâs been that way since you were introduced as the final member of ateez. the only girl of ateez. you sure do have a favorite, donât you?
idol!wooyoung x idol!fem!reader, 9th member reader, members/best friends to potential lovers?, 18+, unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, semi public sex? (theyâre in a dressing room), mr. and mrs. giggleshits, set during work era â> adrenaline era, a little awk, dirty talk, breeding kink ?, pet names (baby, slut, good girl, etc.), cheating, breakup, slight comfort, reader is dating jaehyun (nct), smut with plot, fluff, mmm i think thatâs about it
ââ wc. 8.5k
ââ omg this is my first ever post on here and it turned out to be waaaay longer than i had intended, honestly. iâve had this idea in my head for a while and knew nobody else was gonna do it so i had to take matters into my own hands. iâd like to mention that this is NOT proofread. if you see any typos pls lmk !! i really hope u enjoy it, byeeeee >áŽ<
inhale.
exhale.
everything is fine, youâre okay. itâs not like youâre about to walk into a room full of people youâve never met before or anything. oh! and even better, youâll be with them for the rest of your life. how perfect. itâs not a huge change, i mean, youâve been working for this since you were what, sixteen? or was it fifteen? hell, who knows? all you know is youâre an eighteen year old girl ready to change her life forever.
âcome in!â that pulls you out of it. the rough voice coming from the other side of the frosted glass door has just enough power to make your hand rest on the handle.
you want this. you need this.
one more inhale, another exhale. you push the door open and immediate chaos floods all five of your senses.
boys. eight boys are seen on the couch in the corner of the room, some goofing off with one another and some staying to themselves.
loud, itâs so loud in here, why? oh, that might be due to the four boys practically screaming over each other as they argue about whatever the fuck the current topic is.
cologne. it reeks of testosterone in here. woody, fresh, warm, musky. wait, it kind of smells really good. not important.
oh god, here comes the cotton mouth. your mouth tastes bitter and your whole body has run cold, or hot. are you sweating? fuck if you know. you reach up to touch your forehead. no, yeah, definitely sweating. why are you so cold? oh no, no, no.
consider your world completely and utterly fucking. rocked.
boys? why would i ever want to be surrounded by boys all day, every day?
i thought i would be with a group of girls.
they didnât specify this in the papers.
god, please save me, tell me this is a dream. i canât live a life like this. iâm gonna pass out. there is entirely too much going on in this room. is the room spinning?
you exhausted all of the possibilities in your head long before opening the door. but this? this was not one of them.
one of the eight boys looks up at you. he has sharp features. asymmetrical eyes, you clock that almost immediately as they pierce through you. heâs clad in a red bape and ape hoodie and black adidas sweatpants. brown hair, tanned skin, big, perfect nose. he nods towards you and goes right back to his phone. the smirk on his face certainly not going unnoticed by you.
you know what? okay, yeah.
âwooyoung, please, not right now,â you breathe out. you guys have just wrapped up practice for your latest comeback; work. and boy, oh boy, are you fucking working.
âpleaseeeee,â he begs, âitâll only take a minute.â
âokay, then you can wait for just a minute,â you pant. keep in mind, currently laying on the floor here. dropped dead. limbs numb. sweating from your scalp to your little piggies. what does wooyoung want? glad you asked! tiktok. he wants to make a fucking tiktok fresh after practice. âhow do you have the energy to even want to make a tiktok right now, dude?â
âum, because the choreo isnât as draining as youâre making it seem? and even then, youâve been stumbling over your feet all day,â he sits next to you on the floor, holding himself up with his arms as he cocks his head at you. at this point, the rest of the boys have exited the room for water, food, or their beds.
you chew on the inside of your cheek as you figure out what to say. honestly? you havenât eaten in two days, certain parts of the choreo arenât sticking with you like they usually would, youâre distracted, dissociated, not all there with the rest of the world. your boyfriend is currently on tour, and youâve had this gut wrenching feeling eating away at you ever since he left. i love you baby, you know that, right? he had said. weird, but also, not weird? you say you love each other every time youâre going to be separated for a while, so why did it feel different this time?
âhello?â wooyoungs fingers snap in front of your face, âare you still with me, darling?â you blink.
âdid you just snap at me?â
âwell, yes.â
a moment of silence.
you spring forward and drag him onto the floor with you, punching his sides, âdo. you. want. to. die?â you grunt between punches as he laughs, pleading with you. after a moment you both sit up, âiâm fine, wooyoung, donât worry. i do have to go to my dorm though, so, have fun!â you squeak as you jump up onto your feet, almost losing your balance.
wooyoungs face scrunches up, âwhat are you in such a rush for? gotta call your boytoy?â
âheâs my boyfriend, not boytoy. get it right. but since youâre so curious, no, actually, iâm just ready to strip naked and wash my ass.â
âyeah whatever, didnât need to know all that,â itâs silent as he watches you pack up your belongings from the floor. his feet wiggle in place, fighting the urge to help you pack up. he can hear it now, i am an independent woman, why the fuck would i need you to do that for me? he chuckles to himself before noticing a bruise on the back of your arm, immediately perking up, âwhat happened there?â
âhuh?â you turn to look at him, then to the back of your arm where he was gesturing, âoh, mingi happened. i slammed into him earlier, remember? turns out heâs made of stone instead of skin and bones.â
âah, right. make sure you take care of that.â
your eyebrows furrow as you chuckle and turn to face him again, âitâs a bruise wooyoung, not a stab wound. itâll take care of itself.â
âstill, donât put pressure on it when you sleep tonight,â he states as he finally gets up and makes his way towards the door with you, âit could make it worse, or something.â he shrugs.
âsir yes sir, dr. jung,â you salute as you turn to walk your separate ways. wooyoung slings his already-packed-bag over his shoulder and watches you turn the corridor. with a sigh, he turns and makes his way over to his dorm.
perk number one of being the only girl in ateez: you get your own dorm. it gives you a break from boys in your fully furnished, cozy, warm, space. now, yunho and yeosangs dorm? a literal cardboard box. you couldnât be paid enough to live in that.
you let out a sigh upon entering your dorm, sliding off your shoes and into your slippers. dropping your bag and keys off at the door, you beeline to your room and rip your drawers open.
underwear, shirt, what else, what else⊠oh!
you throw the clothes on your king sized bed, moving towards your vanity where you keep your self care. you snatch your favorite scents off the shelves and toss them on the bed with your clothes. itâs go time, baby.
the bathroom is humid and smells like the gingerbread man drowned in the tub, just how you like it. bubbles are engulfing your body, music is playing on the speaker beside you, youâve got your wine glass in your hand, vanilla candle lit. what else could you possibly need?
âŠ
why did your music stop..?
ring ring ring
your eyes snap open. you have got to be kidding me.
the growl that escapes your throat is beastly, leaning over the wall of the bathtub to grab your phone.
incoming call: my baby <3
the smile that appears on your face is bright enough to light millions of galaxies. of course, you answer with much enthusiasm. âhi baby! i miss you so much. howâs tour?â
âi miss you too, whatâre you doing?â okay fuck me and my question then. from the looks of it, heâs laying in his hotel bed. all you can see is the top of his head though, strange?
âiâm taking a nice relaxing bath, soaking in the peace while i have some. todayâs practice was so tiring.â
âmm,â he groans out. itâs silent for a beat before he speaks again, âfuck- i miss you, baby,â he sounds breathless.
um. âi miss you too⊠are you feeling okay?â your eyebrows furrow with concern. his camera moved down a bit more, you can see his whole face now. his eyes are closed, his bottom lip squeezed between his teeth, eyebrows pinched together. it seems he has no shirt on also, which is pretty normal for him.
ây-yeah, iâm just tired,â his eyes open to look at you now, droopy.
âoh- well, iâll let you go then. get some rest, okay?â
âalright. b-bye,â he stutters. right before he hangs up the phone, yes, he hangs up, you hear a moan. well, no not a moan. a groan? squeak? whatever the fuck it was, it didnât come from him. it was high pitched, feminine.
the fuck?
your thumbs move faster than your brain.
you: what the fuck was that?
12:28am
you: hello?
12:46am
you: jaehyun r u srs
you: did u fall asleep
1:13am
you: annyeonghaseyo what the fuck ????
now here you are, laying in your bed. restless, stressed, sad. you have pretty damn good ears, thereâs no chance that they could be deceiving you right now. itâs been almost two hours since he hung up and you bolted out of the bathroom. you donât understand, everything was fine before he left. what couldâve happened within the span of a few days?
you didnât get a wink of sleep. maybe an hour â no, thatâs a reach. you slept for thirty minutes before your alarm clock began screaming at you to wake up. ten seconds later, here comes the banging on the door.
âwhat, literally what?â you yelled as you stomped towards the door, swinging it open harshly.
âoh- good morning to you, too,â wooyoung waves before pushing past you and into your living room. âyou look like shit, by the way.â
youâre surprised your eyes didnât get stuck in the back of your head with the force you rolled them with. âwe donât have practice for another three hours wooyoung, why are you here?â
âiâm here to chill and eat your snacks beforehand, duh. call it practice pregame,â he says matter-of-factly.
âthe whole point of me having my own dorm was so that none of you could be in here with me. get out,â you deadpanned as you made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water.
âwell thatâs kind of hard to avoid, iâm only a building away. plus, san, mingi, and seonghwa literally live a door down.â
âyeah, a door down, not in my guest bedroom.â
wooyoung scoffs and turns his body away from the tv, really watching you now, âwhatâs up with you today? youâre awfully snappyâ
you place your glass on the island counter and stare at him for second. heâs serious, isnât he? âgee, i donât know, maybe because i only got thirty minutes of sleep before i was woken up by a psychotic alarm clock at seven in the fucking morning! then an even more psychotic manâwho is currently sitting on my couch, barged into my home, chose to bother me on a morning that wouldnât have been any better anyways but at least i wouldnât have to worry about being disturbed by youââ you ramble, your hands flailing all over the place as you go on and on.
wooyoung? he listens. he could tell something has been bothering you these past few days, he knows itâs best for you to let it all out now than later. in the midst of your breakdown he rises from the couch and moves to sit across from where you stand instead.
âi tried to have a relaxing night last night before my fucking boyfriend called meââ
âi thought you were excited to talk to him?â
âoh, just you fucking wait. so, he ended up calling me while i was in the bath. when i answered he sounded very⊠tired? i guess, i have no idea anymore. iâm so fucking confused,â you hold your head in your hands as you recall what happened last night, âhe fucking called me, okay? i knew something was off when i answered and the only thing i could see was his stupid fucking forehead for the first two minutes.â
âtwo minutes? but thââ
âit was a short conversation,â you cut wooyoung off, holding your hand up, âi tried to talk to him about my day, you know, normal couple things. told him about practice, all that good shit. whatâd he say? mm. fucking mm?!â you exclaimed, âand it didnât even sound like an mm of acknowledgement, it sounded horny as fuck! he was all likeâmm fuck, baby i miss you, like, get out of my face.â
wooyoung rolled his eyes, not at youânever at you, but at what he was hearing. he was simply distraught at the fact that anyone could be so vague and passive with you, one of the most charismatic people he knows. although he canât blame him if he was in fact horny.
âthatâs not even it, wooyoung. he starts⊠moaning? groaning? i donât know, he sounded out of breath and like he was trying to hold stuff in. eventually, the camera moved down. i donât think he meant for it to though. he was biting his lip and shit, it looked freaky as hell, and trust me, i know his sex faces.â
wooyoung grimaces at the thought of you doing the deed with someone, âalright maybe i didnât need to know that.â retract previous statement. he can blame him.
âno you definitely did, itâs crucial to the plot. anyways, i asked him if he felt okay, to which he replied y-yeah, iâm just tired,â you mocked him in your âman voiceâ, âi told him to just get some restânow keep in mind, he called me, okay? right before he hung up i heard a weird noise. i donât wanna say it was a woman, but it sounded very feminine.â
âwhat the fuck?â
âyeah, what the fuck. i texted him for an hour straight last night, still no response to this very moment,â you sigh, now looking down at your glass of water. âi donât want to accuse him of cheating but like,â you look back up at wooyoung, âive had this gut feeling something bad was happening behind my back ever since he left for tour. thatâs why ive been acting strange, and i know i shouldnât have held it in but i just-â you sigh.
wooyoung is absolutely fuming, even if he didnât show it. he is a man after all, he understands exactly what is going onâgranted heâd never participate in such devious activities if he had a parter, especially not if he had someone like you. he walked around the counter and engulfed you in his arms. your body began to tremble, finally releasing all the pent up emotions youâve been holding on to.
âiâm sorry i was mean,â your muffled voice fills his ears.
âitâs okay honey, iâd be mean too if i were you,â he pulled back to look at your face. your had tears streaming down your cheeks as you looked up at him. it tore him into pieces to see you like this. his hands reached up to wipe your face, âgo get cleaned up, weâre going out.â
you frown, âout where?â
âout,â he shoves you towards your room, âgo.â
âooh look at this,â san chirps as he poses with the girliest purse youâve ever seen. wooyoung decided to gather almost everyone to go out and shop together after your breakdown? rant? rant. you donât have breakdowns over men. either way, itâs definitely cheering you up.
âwait, what about this one?â mingi walks up behind you with a more sleek purse. oh, here comes seonghwa strutting down with wooyoung hand-in-hand, holding matching coach bags. you canât help but laugh at how ridiculous they look.
âso if i say i love them all you guys will buy them for me?â you lift your eyebrow with a smirk on your face.
âyes,â they say in unison.
chuckling and shaking your head, âguys you donât have to do this, iâm seriously fine with just walking around. you donât have to shove all these things in my face and beg to buy them for me,â wooyoung looks at you with a knowing look, cocking his head to the side. he can always tell when youâre bluffing, âokay fine, sugar baby me.â
and sugar baby you they sure fucking did. the boys walk in tandem with you back to your dorm, all of their arms covered with bags of things they bought you. you know when that one kid in school walked down the hallway and you just knew they were coming because of their keychains? yeah, thatâs basically them but with shopping bags right now.
âfuck, why did you let me do this,â seonghwa pants as you guys exit the elevator.
âyou wouldnât leave me alone, donât complain now,â you shrug as you unlock your door and let them in. the bags are immediately dropped to the floor, grunts and groans of relief coming from the men. âyou guys are dramatic. heyâdonât break my shit!â
âanything you say, girly. now letâs go, we have to be at practice in thirty minutes. hongjoong will kill us if weâre late⊠again.â san says.
you giggle as they walk ahead of you and out of your dorm. as youâre locking your door you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, frowning, you pull it out.
oh.
jaehyun.
you begrudgingly put the phone to your ear, âyes, jaehyun?â wooyoung turns to look at you at the mention of his name, a concerned look on his face. you shake your head at him and motion for him to go ahead, which he reluctantly obeys.
âhey baby, how are you?â
âuh, iâm good. could be better, actually. whatâs up?â you begin walking a few feet behind the boys, closer to wooyoung than the rest of them. of course, he purposefully walked slower than the rest to pick up on your conversation. call him nosy, shame him for eavesdropping, he couldnât care less.
âoh, um- i was just wondering. what happened last night?â
your heart stopped for a moment. heâs serious?
âwhat do you mean?â
âwell i saw i had called you last night but i donât remember it at all, haha,â haha. âi drank with the guys so i was pretty drunk.â
âoh, i see⊠were you too drunk to answer my texts as well or was that because you were busy doing something elseâor should i sayâsomeone else?â your irritation is evident in your voice at this point. the other side of the line does quiet for a beat too long, so you take the initiative, âyou know what, jaehyun? until you manage to use all the brain power you have left to tell me exactly what you were doing last night; donât message me, donât call me, donât even think of me. got it?â
âwait- baby, i-â
beep beep beep.
shut up.
you rolled your eyes and tucked your phone back into your pocket. the peace was nice for the two hours it lasted.
âget out. my. face.â sans voice booms through the practice room as he calls out the phrases that helps you all remember the choreo. today is the last day of practice, which is very stressful for you this time around. usuallly youâd have every movement nailed down by now, but youâre falling behind.
you keep fucking bumping into mingi during the stupid ass line formation you have to do. youâre sweating, your clothes are sticking to your body, hair falling out of your ponytail, bruises beginning to form from your countless failures.
âtake 5 guys,â hongjoong calls out as he exits the room.
âare you doing okay?â jongho crouched down beside where youâre sprawled out on the floor.
âoh my fucking lord, yes, iâm fucking peachy. i am perfectly fine. why is everyone asking me this? actually, no, you know what, jongho? no, iâm not fucking okay because iâm pretty sure my boyfriend is cheating on me with some random bitch while iâm here stuck in this muggy practice room and failing at everything i do. is that a better answer for you guys? iâm not okay,â is what you wish you could scream out at the top of your lungs. unfortunately, what you say is, âiâm okay jjong, thank you,â donât forget to top it off with a smile and nod!
thankfully, he drops it, deciding to not push you further. unlike someone, whatâs his name?
âyeah right, whatâd that asshole have to say to you earlier?â wooyoung plops himself on the ground on your other side. oh right, wooyoung.
âwouldnât you like to know.â
âyeah i would, thatâs kind of why i asked,â he shoves your shoulder, âcome on, tell me. i promise i wont hunt him down, even though i should,â he murmurs the last part.
âwhat was that?â he shakes his head and motions for you to speak, sigh. âhe basically just told me he didnât remember anything from last night.â
âmm, and whatâd you say?â
âyou know what i said wooyoung, i know you were listening.â
âwell tell me again, it was kind of hot,â he smirks, that makes you roll your eyes as you laugh.
hongjoong comes back and everything is set in motion once again, you swear that five minute break felt more like five seconds. after two more hours the work day has ended, youâre back in your bed, and suddenly itâs almost a month later. you pulled countless all-nighters practicing the choreography by yourself, pushing your body to its limit. jaehyun? not a word from him, and thatâs perfectly fine with you. the music video released a few days ago, and now itâs s performance day. you have bigger things to worry about.
to say youâre nervous is an understatement. the anxiety of repeating the same mistakes you had worked so hard to fix comes creeping up your neck, sending shivers down your spine. or was it the hand thatâs now laying against your lower back that did that?
âyou ready, popstar?â wooyoung whispers into your ear from behind. you canât see him, but you can feel him. hear him, smell him. itâs overwhelming to say the least, but also provides you a sense of comfort. you turn your head to the side and smile at him with a nod.
you all get into position in the stage, waiting patiently for the music to start, fans are cheering. whatâs going in your head, you wonder?
anytime nowâŠ
oh! that scared me, oh my itâs really loud.
these lights are blinding meâŠ
donât mess up, donât fuck it up. waitâyes, fuck it up. fuck it up so good, girl.
get out. my. face.
please donât bump into him, please donât bump into him.
oh thank fuck. thank you, lord.
okay jongho sing itttt.
voice please donât crack, itâs my turn.
gotta make that money makeâ
itâs nothing but heavy breathing and stripping of clothing once you get backstage. you had been itching to get this heavy ass jacket off your frame for over an hour now, the relief of shredding it from your body an overwhelming sensation.
âyou did so good, im so proud of you.â wooyoung jogs towards you and squeezes you so tight you can barely breathe.
âthank you, youngie, but iâm really sweaty and i kinda canât breathe⊠move. please.â he pulls away with a breathless smile.
âyou ready to do it all over again in two days?â he winks at you, the guttural groan you let out probably echoed down the halls. âiâll take that as a no,â he laughs.
later that night after youâve returned home and showered, you hear a knock at your door. who the fuck? you open the door to see none other than jung fucking wooyoung standing there in his full pajama set.
a giggle escapes your lip as you quirk a brow at him, âand what do you think youâre doing?â
âuh, sleepover?â he says, or asks, itâs hard to tell which one it was. once you see the container of brownies in his hands though? it was an immediate yes anyway. he cooks you dinner, you serve him wine, it all felt very domestic but also⊠just friendly? there was no tension, nothing dramatic. it was almost as if he were one of your girlfriends. you gossiped, laughed, watched movies, things that youâd do with your best friend.
while you guys are in the middle of watching the second hunger games movie, thereâs another knock at the door.
âdid you invite san or yeosang over?â you question, to which he shakes his head just as confused as you are. you get up and go open the door, freezing in place once you see whoâs behind your door.
jaehyun.
all you can do is stare at him through the crack of the door, all the emotions you had forgotten about a month ago suddenly crashing down on you.
âwho is it?â you hear wooyoung shout from the couch. nobody answered him.
âhey,â jaehyun started. no.
âdonât,â you hold your hand up, âare you fucking kidding me right now?â
âlook, i know i messed upââ
âmessed up? messed up?! we havenât spoken in a fucking month, jaehyun!â you snatch your phone from the pocket of your pajama pants and open the messages between you guys, â12:28am, what the fuck was that? 12:46am, hello? jaehyun are you serious? did you fall asleep? 1:13am, hello, what the fuck?â your eyes are open so wide theyâre damn near bulging out of your head. behind you, wooyoung creeps up around the corner.
âbaby, please just let me in so we can talkââ
âabout what? about fucking what, jaehyun? have you finally remembered what happened that night or what?â silence. âwell, iâm waiting. what happened? please, do tell.â
silence, again. fine.
âi thought you were on tour, why are you here?â
âi- i am- i was i- iâm back just for the week. i-â he sighs, searching for the words he wants to say, âi- i cheated on you,â he said under his breath as he looked at his feet.
âhm? what?â
âi fucking cheated! okay? are you happy now? i cheated on you!â
your five senses have been infiltrated once again.
blurry. everything is blurry, you canât see who youâre talking to anymore. nothing is clear, youâve spent two years of your life with this man. the man you thought you would marry, the man who wrote songs about you, the man who was your first everything.
your ears are ringing, what did he say? you knew it, you had a feeling deep down inside. but for him to just flat out scream it out like it means nothing? like you mean nothing?
you can smell the alcohol on his breath as he speaks to you. oh, heâs been drinking. again. go figure.
just seeing him leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.
tears. red, hot, angry tears are streaming down your face. you feel your hands touch your face, are you moving your arms? you canât feel them. everything feels numb, youâre numb.
ây-you need to go,â you whimper, looking right through him as more and more tears cascade down your cheeks.
âjagiya, i-â
âdonât,â you feel a hand on the small of your back. your lip starts quivering, you start breathing faster, youâre panicking. you donât understand anything thatâs going on right now. âyou heard her, you need to go,â he doesnât. âleave before i fucking make you leave, and trust me, you donât want that.â wooyoung threatens, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden outburst. his hand rubs circles against your spine.
jaehyun looks between the two of you, then at the floor, ultimately deciding to leave the premise. your numb hand slowly moves to shut the door, and all you can do is stare at it. you feel your body slide down the door as your sobs finally break free.
you knew it.
you fucking knew it.
why were you in denial for so long? why did you allow this to happen to yourself? this is all your fault, if you knew, then why didnât you end it before now? do you still love him? were you hoping that it wasnât true? god, it wouldâve been much better if you were just making thing up in your head.
you sob, and you sob even more. wooyoung drops down next to you and pulls you into his arms. âwhatâs wrong with me?â you cry out.
ânothing is wrong with you, honey. nothing at all, okay?â he hears his chin on top of your head as he rubs your back, âhe has no idea what he just lost. youâre the smartest, most amazing, beautiful, kind, courageous person i know. youâll find the one whoâs best for you.â
âpromise?â you whimper.
wooyoungs heart is torn. all he wants in this moment is for you to be okay, happy, and in his arms. âi promise, i really do.â
itâs been a long time since that night. a really long time, actually. youâve had three comebacks since then and are currently working on your fourth; golden hour: part 4. now sitting in the studio, wooyoung and yourself are bundled up on the couch together scrolling on pinterest.
âiâll do it if you do it,â he smiles and turns his head to look at you, showing you a picture of cherry red hair.
âyou want me to dye my hair red?â he nods. âyouâre not gonna chicken out last second and have me running around like strawberry shortcake, will you?â wooyoung damn near dies. why? because itâs you. it wasnât nearly half as funny as he made it out to be, but you just tickle him so good.
âof course not, iâve already dyed my hair red before, remember?â oh you remember all too well. that red hair looked spectacular on him. it was during that time when you had a crush on himâor was it before then? scratch that, it was when you first met. you had a huge crush on wooyoung when you first met, and it lasted up until you met jaehyun for the first time. when was that? 2021? you broke up in⊠2024?
gosh, itâs been so long since youâve even thought about jaehyun. itâs now 2026 and you all have moved on to bigger and better things. last you checked, he was doing his military service.
haha, you lost your hair. loser.
you know who hasnât lost his hair? wooyoung. where were we? oh right, back to the crush thing. yeah, you had the fattest crush on him, just cute puppy love at first. he didnât know, you tried to hold it in, it ate away at you for years, and eventually the crush faded. but now? something has changed, you canât tell if itâs the way he looks at you or if the plates in your brain shifted the night he comforted you during one of the most heartbreaking moments in your life. all you know is right now, he is taking your breath away all over again.
âdo you know how to dye hair?â you ask.
âi mean⊠not really, but i can try.â he smiles down at you, oh god.
âalright, iâll dye your hair tonight. come over with the stuff so i can get to business, and make sure you get enough!â
âhow much is enough?â
âthe whole store baby, the whole store.â you rest your head on his shoulder and continue scrolling on your phone.
baby? did she just call me baby? sheâs never done that before. what does that mean? uh, my heart is kind of freaking out. oh my god, does she hear it?
so yeah, wooyoung may or may not have never gotten over his crush on you. fuck that, he never did. itâs definite. when you were with jaehyun he had to tone down the his touching, flirting, all the things that makes him, well, him. but itâs been two years since jaehyun has been out of the picture. guess what that means? itâs his turn.
heâs had a crush on you ever since you graced his eyes, though he never allowed himself to show it. which, even if he did, heâs pretty sure youâd only just think itâs him being the same old flirty wooyoung when that wouldnât have been the case at all. i mean, yes, he has flirted with you, and yes it has been serious on his end. does he think you got the hint though? pfft, how could you? you were too far up jaehyuns ass to pay him any mind.
knock knock knock
âyay, yay, yay, yay, yay, yay, yayyyyy!â you squeal as you make your way over to your door. you love when itâs time to get your hair done, just as much as you love doing othersâ hair. you yank the door open with a big smile, and as expected, wooyoung is standing there with a boyish grin and a bag full of hair supplies.
âare you ready to stain your entire bathroom?â
âyes!â
hereâs the current situation; you currently have your hair soaked in red dye under a shower cap. wooyoung? heâs sitting on the toilet while you stand in front of him and work the dye into his hair.
âyou shouldâve put gloves on,â he says as he watches you work your magic above him. heâs extremely aware of how close you are to one another right now, you between his legs while he struggles to figure out where the fuck he should put his hands.
âwell you didnât either. if you get in trouble then iâll get in trouble too,â you smile down at him with the most beautiful smile heâs ever seen. he takes this moment to really look at you. you have a beauty mark right under your lip, how has he never noticed that before? you smell amazing, donât get him wrong, you always smell good, but right now? oh my god. vanilla and everything gourmand. wooyoung swears heâs become addicted to it.
you know heâs staring, youâre extremely aware of it actually. thatâs what makes this all the more fun. youâve noticed heâs been extra clingy lately. always sitting with you during practice breaks, going to get food with you, getting food for you, heâs even been walking you home some nights. youâre not sure why, but your hopes are most certainly high.
âwhatâre you looking at?â you question with an anxious laugh.
âyour beauty mark,â he replies, reaching up to rub his finger against it. okay, that took you off guard completely. your entire body froze for a second before getting back to work on his hair, reaching to gather more of the dye. wooyoung noticed the effect he had on you.
âyouâre just now noticing it?â
âyeah, i donât know why thoughâŠâ he says softly, almost mesmerized. âitâs pretty,â the room is silent for a moment after that, the only sound coming from your hands working on his head. âyouâre pretty.â
you freeze.
what did he just say?
your eyes fall to his, heâs already looking at you. you both stare at each other for a moment, no words being said but somehow itâs so loud in this bathroom. you notice him leaning up, an attempt to get closer to your face. you find yourself also inching closer to him, so close yet so far.
your lips are inches away from each other at this point, his breath tickling your face. his hands slide up the backs of your legs and thatâs what snaps you out of it. you quickly pull away, clearing your throat. wooyoung jumps from shock and does the same, nervously rubbing his hands on his thighs.
âum- your hair should be good now. we just have to leave it in for thirty minutes,â you quickly say as your hands move just as fast to grab all the trash.
wooyoung clears his throat, âyeah, alright. okay,â he stands and grabs a shower cap, putting it over his hair. youâre out of the bathroom in a flash, speeding to your trash can and onto the couch. fuck. what just happened.
you turn a show on, no idea what it is but it provides you a distraction from whatever the hell you almost did in there. wooyoung makes himself known by sinking into the couch next to you. you donât look at him, donât acknowledge his presence, you donât even speak. all you can do is stare straight ahead at the tv and pray the timer on your phone goes off any minute now.
wooyoung is the same. this fucking timer canât go off any faster. he takes his chances and looks over at you, but you pay him no mind. ouch. itâs stays exactly like that until thirty minutes are up, the both of you springing off the couch and heading for the bathroom.
âwe should wash your hair out first since itâs been sitting longer,â he points out. yeah, i guess we should. you grab a towel and wrap it around your shoulders while wooyoung takes your shower cap off. god this is awkward. you get on your knees and lean over the tub while wooyoung begins massaging your head under the water.
âholy fucking shit itâs been almost ten minutes why is the water not clear yet?â you yell out. you back is aching and your sure wooyoungs is too.
âi donât know, do you think itâs good enough? i mean, itâs pink water and not red water soâŠâ
âitâs good. itâs good, itâs good. oh my god, my back hurts please let me get up,â you groan as wooyoung helps you up and wraps the towel over your head. you just stare at each other for a minute before letting out tiny laughs. âyouâre next.â
wooyoung stares at your pink-stained bathtub, âyeah, i guess i am.â and then you repeat the process once more, except itâs much louder and way more annoying this time.
âouch! donât rip my hair out, damn it!â
âiâm sorry, im not trying to!â
âmy back hurts, oh my god.â
âiâm never letting you dye my hair again.â
wah, wah, wah! crybaby, crybaby, crybaby!
eventually, the torture is over and itâs time to dry the hair. great.
âdo you want me to dry your hair or do you have it?â you ask.
wooyoung smiles, âyou can do it.â oh, of course. donât be mistaken, the situation is still very much awkward, but somehow a bit of the tension has been released. thatâs just how you guys are. while you dry his hair thereâs nothing to be said, as if you would even be able to with how loud the damn thing is.
once you finish his hair you switch roles, but instead of you sitting on the toilet he stands behind you in front of the sink. perks of being taller, i guess. you watch him very carefully through the mirror as he runs his fingers through your hair, making sure to dry every piece without tangles. heâs so pretty, you canât help but to think.
just then, he looks up at you. youâve been caught. his smirk grows wide, âwhatcha looking at, huh?â he yells over the blow dryer.
âmm, nothing,â you say innocently with the faintest smile.
he turns the blow dryer off, âhuh? what was that?â he teases.
you roll your eyes, âi said nothing.â he places the blow dryer on the counter and traps you from behind, both arms resting on either side of your body.
âdoesnât look like nothing,â he whispers in your ear whilst maintaining eye contact in the mirror. is the window open? itâs very cold in here, no, itâs hot. itâs so fucking hot.
wooyoungs hands move to your waist and spin you around to face him, âyou wonât run from me this time, will you?â he whispers, eyes flicking to your lips for a split second.
you canât help but to notice how close you both are in this moment, his hips keeping you grounded against counter, the tips of your noses brushing. you shake your head as you both lean in, lips finally locking. his arms wrap around your waist and pull you impossibly closer, your arms lock around his neck, fingers pulling at his freshly dyed hair.
you open your eyes for a split second, seeing the cherry red hair you worked oh so hard on.
you hear wooyoungs groans as you pull his soft hair, and you can smell the strawberry chapstick he mustâve put on right before this.
your tongues mix together, now finally, you taste the strawberry chapstick.
his hands are roaming all over your body now, and you reciprocate. your hands glide down his back, feeling the muscles as they flex beneath your hands.
wooyoung groans into your mouth once more, feeding you with all of his beautiful sounds. yours mouths move in tandem with one another, barely coming up for air, but when you finally do? oh, it is so, so sweet.
your breaths mingle as you pull apart, staring into each others eyes. âso,â you squeak.
âso.â
âwhat now?â he hums as he rests his forehead on yours.
âhmm, round two?â you both giggle as you lock your lips for a second time that night, the both of you having no idea what youâve just started.
itâs officially comeback day. youâve got adrenaline flushing through your veins. no, seriously. youâre all backstage getting your make up and hair done. wooyoung is sitting beside you with his assigned make up artist while you get your hair done, scrolling through your phone and seeing what atiny thinks about the music video.
âwooyoung, atiny said they like our matching hair.â you giggle and show him the comments under the video.
âthey have good taste,â he winks. after about fifteen minutes your hair is done and wooyoung has his make up on, itâs time to rotate with the other members. you walk out the room and to your dressing room to make any adjustments to your make up and hair. what? god forbid a girl has preferences.
ânow why are you ruining what our lovely stylists worked so hard on?â the oh, so, familiar voice booms through your dressing room, causing you to jump and accidentally smear lipstick on your chin.
âwooyoung!â you whined, pouting at him through the mirror. heâs smirking, leaning against the doorframe. âit wasnât ruined until you did that shit!â you groan, not noticing him close the door and lock it behind him. youâre too focused on trying to fix your make up that you donât realize how close he is now.
âaww baby, itâs okay. here, let me see,â he leans down from behind and holds your face in his hand. oh. licking his lips, he kisses up from the smeared lipstick to your lips, stealing your breath away. you relax immediately, releasing the breath you didnât know you were holding in all this time.
he pulls away with a frown, âmm. that didnât work, hold on.â he moves his thumb to your chin, carefully wiping the lipstick off. his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth as he pulls your bottom lip down with his thumb. feeling a bit naughty, you take advantage of this moment. you open your mouth and let him thumb glide against your tongue, maintaining eye contact with the cherry-haired man. âoh, babyâŠâ he groans, âyou shouldnât do that.â
that only encourages you to suck his thumb harder. âoh, i see. you wanna be a little slut, huh?â your eyes gloss over at that, pupils dilated. he pushes his thumb further back before sliding it out your mouth, holding the side of your head as you lean into his touch.
âplease,â you beg.
âplease what?â he presses, sinking down to his knees and turning your chair to face him. your legs spread willingly, your body moving before you can even think. his hands smooth over your thighs, trialing up your skirt, âyou gotta tell me what you want or i canât help you, my love.â
your breath hitches as he pulls down the shorts youâre wearing underneath your skirt. âp-please, touch me.â
âtouch you?â he cocks his head to the side, âtouch you where, huh?â wooyoung leaves a trail of kisses up your inner thighs and pushes up your skirt to reveal your panties. his thumb grazes the wet spot shining through them, âhere?â your legs try to close but oh, oh no, heâs not having that. he keeps your legs spread with his hands, âkeep these pretty legs open or you wonât be getting a damn thing from me, got it?â
youâve never nodded your head so quick in your life.
he hooks his thumb on your panties and pushes them aside, mouth watering at the sight. âoh, look at this pretty pussy,â he damn near moans as he blows cool air against your heat, making your hips jerk forward. he smirks before sinking inbetween your thighs, flattening his tongue against you to test the waters. you lay your head back against the chair, a content sigh escaping your lips.
his tongue swirled around your clit once, twice, three times before he began to suck, eliciting a loud moan from you. then comes his fingers, and boy does he waste no time. he dives two fingers into your heat, curling and twisting while you encourage him with your moans.
âoh- fuck, youngie.â you cry out. he chuckles against your clit before picking up the pace, âplease- donât stop, please.â
âmm, yeah? donât stop?â
âplease-â
âtell me how good it feels baby, tell your youngie how good heâs treating your pussy.â
youâve completely lost your mind at this point, the coil in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter by the second. not a single word is coming to mind. you canât speak, you can hardly think, only thing you know is him. with another flick of his tongue youâre releasing all over his fingers, crying out for god knows who as you rock your hips with the movement of his fingers still inside of you.
âyeah baby, let it all out for me. cum all over my fingers.â he coos. he helps you ride out your orgasm with a couple kisses to your now swollen clit, kissing up your body to your mouth. you can taste yourself on his tongue, his fingers still pumping in and out of your at a slow pace. after another minute or two he finally pulls them out of you, sucking his fingers dry and pulling you into another sloppy, wet, kiss.
when he pulls away a string of saliva is left behind, keeping the two of you connected. âbend over the vanity for me, doll.â he says as he unbuckles his belt and works to get his pants off. you do as he says and watch in the mirror as he pulls his cock out. you bite your lip once you see his red, hot, angry tip is leaking with precum, mouth immediately watering. âitâs impolite to stare.â he teases, pushing your head further down as he lines up behind you.
he pushes your skirt over your hips and pulls your panties to the side again, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, your mouth falls open as a silent moan tears through you. wooyoung bites his lip as he watches through the mirror. âthat feel good baby? you feel me?â you nod. all you can do is nod at this point, youâre so insanely fucked out and heâs barely even done anything. âi need you to be quieter this time, okay? we gotta go on in five minutes.â he whispers in your ear.
his hands hold your hips steady against the vanity as he pushes in, holding back his own moan as he sinks into your heat. âfuckkk, baby.â he groans, his head falling back before he slides out and then slams back into you.
his whole body is leaning over you now as his hips piston into your gummy walls, your mouth has fallen open once again and your eyes roll to the back of your head. âoh, fuck!â your cry out, causing wooyoung to shove two fingers into your mouth to shut you the fuck up.
âwhat did i say?â he groans breathlessly into your ear, âbe a good girl for me, shhh, shh, itâs okay.â he has to bite into your shoulder himself just to stay quiet, his own orgasm creeping up on him. the coil in your stomach is tightening again, your hands grabbing out for anything to keep you stable.
your orgasm tears through you once more, tears running down your face. âi feel you, baby. iâm here.â his hips are moving at an impossible speed by now, chasing his orgasm along with yours. once he feels your walls fluttering around him he knows itâs time. âcum again, baby. cum all over my cock, please- cum for me.â his whines drive you over the edge.
your entire body trembles underneath his as you release for the third time, all over his now softening cock. he pumps a few more times, making sure every last drop is gone before removing his fingers from your mouth and leaning back, looking down at the beautiful sight. once he slides out of you, his thumb replaces his cock. bending down to be face to face with your pussy, he pumps his thumb in and out of you a few times. âgotta make sure you donât leak all over the stage, huh?â he smirks, removing his thumb and sliding your panties back into place.
âhey, where are my shorts?â you ask once youâve both cleaned each other up. wooyoung smirks at you for what feels like the hundredth time today.
âoh, you mean these?â he holds them up on his pointer finger, waving them around in your face before shoving them in his pocket. âyou wonât be needing them.â
staff knocks on your door, âthirty seconds, letâs go!â you both look at the door and then at each other.
wooyoung leans towards you, âlike i said, donât leak all over the stage.â and with that, he leaves a smack on your ass before walking out of the dressing room, leaving both you and your five senses going haywire.
Pairing: Bf!Mingi x Reader x Yunho x Wooyoung
Summary: Sometimes while dating Mingi it felt as though you had a second boyfriend that neither of you fully acknowledged, his best friend, Yunho. The tension between the three of you builds until even Wooyoung senses it. Wooyoung wants to help push the three of you together and maybe get some fun out of the deal.
Genres + Warnings 18+ Minors DNI! dom!Yunho, switch!Mingi, switch! Wooyoung, sub!reader, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected p-in-v, double penatration, breast play, multiple orgasms, creampie, degradation, (lmk if I missed any, I probably am)
A/N: My longest writing to date and first one with multiple partners. I've been really nervous to post this so please be nice lol. I loved writing for these three though and could see this dynamic playing out in so many different ways. Let me know what y'all think. This is a work of fiction and in no way a real representation of the band or members.
Word Count: 7,720
Dating Mingi, in ways, was a dream come true. Having met in a dingy bar after being ditched by your friend, the two of you hit it off very well. He understood you in ways that didnât seem possible at times. In return, you had a way of reading him that no one else seemed to be able to.Â
That was, except for his best friend Yunho.Â
The two had known each other for years before you came along. At first, their relationship seemed daunting. It felt impossible that you would ever get to the level of understanding of Mingi that Yunho had. Yunho seemed to have an uncanny ability to sense Mingiâs emotionsâa sense that took a while for you to learn. However, it wouldâve taken longer without the taller manâs actions.Â
With how often Yunho was around, you got to know the slightly older man as well. You formed a bumpy friendshipâjealousy preventing you from getting too close at first. Over time, you got over it and accepted him as a part of your life with Mingi, falling into a routine with the two of them.Â
The three of you would often hang out in the apartment you shared with Mingi, whether it was to play video games, watch movies, or just sit around. It started out with small actions that made you feel seen by Yunho. Your favorite snacks brought without you having to ask, explanations of inside jokes when he saw confusion on your face, and small unexpected gifts like he would get Mingi when he had bad days.Â
Mingi didnât think anything of it, knowing Yunho would do the same for him. In fact, he became thrilled at the idea of the two of you getting closer. He even encouraged you to turn to Yunho if he was ever too busy to answer. He didnât see how he could be upset at the idea of his two favorite people becoming friends. Even when Yunho started to tease you like he would, Mingi didnât think anything of it.Â
As harmless as it was at first, you didnât miss the small smirks Yunho would send your way. The glances when he believed Mingi wasnât looking, or even the small brushes when walking past you. A tension growing between the two of you, that you werenât sure what to do with.Â
Coming home from work one day, you couldn't help but tense up hearing both of their voices as you entered your shared apartment. You kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag down on the kitchen table, exhausted after the long day.Â
âHey, baby. How was work?â Mingi called from the living room. He was enthralled in some game you didnât care to learn about with Yunho, the two clearly battling.Â
âFine, just long.â You answered as you grabbed a drink from the fridge. Entering the living room, you waited beside the arm of the couch, not wanting to interrupt their match. Mingi sat closest to you, Yunho was in the arm chair on the other side of the couch.Â
âHowâd the project go?â Yunho asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.Â
âGood, finally got the one executive to drop his impossible idea.âÂ
âTold you, heâd come around. My babyâs too pretty to argue with.â Mingi spoke with a proud smirk causing you to chuckle.Â
âYes, Iâm sure he changed his mind cause he thought I was pretty.â You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the thought.
âDo we have competition with your coworkers now? Weâre-Mingiâs gonna have to show them youâre off limits.â Yunho spoke, trying to correct himself quickly.Â
Your eyes widened at his insinuation, the innuendo not lost on you. You felt yourself tense up as you glanced at Mingi, who was now biting his lipâat Yunhoâs words or just in concentration you didnât know. His eyes hadn't left the screen in front of him as far as you had seen.
Yunho glanced at you again, a red tinge to his ears. His eyes strayed from the screen just a second too long, giving Mingi the advantage he needed to end the match. Mingi let out a cheer at finally winning, before placing his control down and extending his hand out to you. You set your drink down, placing your hand in his.Â
âCome here, baby.â He spoke softly, eyes meeting yours as you did as he asked. You moved to sit by Mingi, your legs across his lap as he gently massaged your calves. You didnât glance at the other man as you closed your eyes and relaxed into your boyfriendâs massage.
Yunho cleared his throat before you heard him stand. âSheâs clearly had a long day, Iâll leave you two be.â You opened your eyes to see him gathering his stuff, avoiding eye contact with either of you.Â
âYou donât have to, we can play another round, right, baby?â Mingi asked, looking at you for a moment before turning back to Yunho.Â
âIâm sure, take care of your girl.â He answered before you could even open your mouth, eyes drifting to you at the end. There was something in his look, it was familiar to you, but not from him.Â
Desire. A muted fire as he clearly fought to push it down.
You stayed still until he finally made his way to the door and made a swift exit.Â
Mingi glanced between the two of you, biting his lip. He couldnât deny the attraction building between the all three of you, but just like you, he didnât know how to act on it. He didnât know what to say or how to address what was happening. He wasnât sure it was something you wanted, let alone Yunho.Â
You entered a standstill where Yunho continued to push further and further. Tension building with each visit he had to your apartment. You werenât sure how to approach the subject, not wanting to upset Mingi with the interest you now held for his best friend, or vice versa.Â
Enter Wooyoung.Â
Wooyoung wasnât around as often as Yunho, but had become a more frequent guest recently. Often joining the two in the gaming sessions, or some other random hang out. However, the few encounters that the three of you had with him were enough for him to grasp an understanding of your dilemma.Â
He had a perceptiveness as he watched the three of you interact. Something akin to a hawk watching his prey. He caught on to your attraction to both men.Â
The adorable embarrassment that broke out as Yunho mercilessly enjoyed teasing you. The seemingly lack of care that Yunho had for Mingi or anyone else being in the room when he did it. He also caught on to Mingiâs excitement at watching the two people closest to him not only get along but thrive in each other's presence.
Wooyoung could tell you wanted to say something, to quit walking the tightrope between the two. However, what he didnât know is where the line was drawn only having an outside perspective of the situation.Â
âSo, have you three fucked or something?â Wooyoung asked one evening after following you into the kitchen.Â
You almost choked on your drink at the blatant question. âWhat?! No!âÂ
âOh, donât be like that. You three are thirsting after each other like a fucking camel in the desert.â
âI donâtââ
âSpare me the denials. Everytime Yunho flirts with you, I swear Mingi gets a fucking hard on and you make heart eyes at both of them more than San does to Yeosang.â He spoke with his arms crossed, leaning on the counter next to you. A knowing smirk was on his face as a heat rose to your cheeks.Â
You felt pinned to the spot, the hair on the back of your neck standing on edge. Your eyes glanced at the exit from the room, wondering if he would block you from taking it.Â
âWoo, just drop it please.â You pleaded after a moment dropping your head so as to not see his face.Â
âOh, I can see why they tease youâŠâ He spoke and you snapped your head back up to meet his eyes. âYouâre so pretty when you beg.âÂ
âNot you too.â Your head fell, avoiding eye contact once again.Â
âNot sorry, youâre just too cute.âÂ
Rolling your eyes, you attempted to head back to the living room. As you passed Wooyoung, his hand caught your wrist.Â
âI can help, you know? I see what you want, I can be that final push.â He told you, smirk on his face as he glanced between your eyes and lips.Â
âWhy would you do that? What's in it for you?â
âA night of fun if I play my cards right, and the bonus of getting rid of the weird tension between you three.â He answered honestly, dropping your wrist with a shrug.Â
The gears in your head started to turn at his idea. Your boyfriend wasn't the easily jealous type, not with his friends anyway. Yunho though? Different story. Could Wooyoung really be the catalyst to get one of them to actâto admit to what they truly want?
âHow do you want to do this?â You finally asked after a moment.
âYou're down?âÂ
When you nodded he couldn't stop the laugh that spilled from his lips.Â
âOrai! We'll do it naturally. Just storm out of here like you were going to after I teased you. Trust me to take care of the rest.âÂ
Giving him a nod and taking a deep breath, you moved to leave the kitchen with a huff.
You planted down on the couch next to Mingi, burying your head in his chest with a groan. Your cheeks red, with embarrassment, and you held a disbelief in your actions. Were you really trusting the younger man to push you all together, just like that?Â
You felt Mingi chuckle before you heard it. âEverything okay, baby?â He asked as his hand dragged through your hair. You moved to glance up at his face.Â
âYeah, just Youngie being a menace.â
âAh so nothing new.â Yunho joked as he continued the video game he was playing from the armchair next to you.Â
âItâs not my fault she looks hot when she blushes. I mean look at âerâ Wooyoung spoke, now leaning on the wall separating the kitchen and living room. His arms were crossed as he bit his lip, eyes not leaving your form. You felt Mingi tense under you as Yunho let out a chuckle of disbelief, pausing his game and placing the controller down. Wooyoungâs eyes flitted between the three of you, watching the reactions with a playful smirk.Â
No one spoke for a moment, an awkward silence filling the void.
âWell, thatâs interesting. So Yunho can flirt all he wants but the minute I do, you get all tense?â Wooyoung asks with a scoff, a hand coming to rest on his hip.Â
âI donâtââ
âHe doesnâtââ
âBullshit.â Wooyoung stopped the older menâs arguments before they could even start. You sat up to give Mingi space as he started to fidget under you.Â
âDonât try to deny it when I could cut the tension in here with one of your shitty knives.âÂ
Mingi scoffed and readjusted himself. âI donât know what youâre talking about.âÂ
âSo youâre not hard right now?âÂ
Wooyoung had him, caught red handed. Mingi stayed silent, ears turning red as everyone turned to face him.Â
âWait, youâre reallyââ
âShut up!â Mingi barked before Yunho could finish his question.Â
âDude, itâs okay. Had youâ I would'veâ We couldâveââ Yunho struggled with his words until Mingi cut him off.
âCouldâve what?â He gave a slight chuckle in disbelief.Â
âCouldâve fucked.â Yunho answered bluntly, eyes locking with Mingi's.
âDude, I donât just want a one night stand.âÂ
âThen what do you want?â
âIâ Fuck I donât know, which is why I never said anything. How can I explain what I want when I donât know? Let alone what you two want.âÂ
âWe can work that out, man. Just let meââÂ
âJust fuck already.â You had almost forgotten Wooyoung was there until he approached. However, you remember his wordsâhis reason for still being here.
âWhy so you can watch?â Yunho fired back with a smirk.Â
âYou gonna let me?â
âThat's not forââ Yunho trailed off as he glanced at Mingi. Mingi who was back to biting his lip. A desire burning in his chocolate orbs as he met Yunho's gaze once more.Â
âWell, that just leaves you, baby girl. What do you think?â Yunho asked, eyes not leaving Mingi's, as if locked in a silent conversation only those two understood.Â
âI'm open to it, so long as both of you are.â You answered, glancing between the two.
âYeah? You want all of us? Want us to share you?â Mingi asked softly, eyes searching your face.Â
Biting your lip, you nodded, eyes not leaving his.Â
âWords baby girl, or this goes no further.â Yunho spoke up, causing your eyes to snap to his.Â
âI want this. All of it, whatever it is.âÂ
Mingi darted forward lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. Closing your eyes, you leaned into him. His hand coming up to cup the side of your head as his tongue teased your lips. You let him in, tongue barely fighting back as Mingi dominated the kiss. Desire burned through your veins and you moaned into his mouth.
âFuck, thatâs hot.â Wooyoung spoke and Mingi pulled back with a chuckle.Â
âJust wait, you ainât seen nothing yet.â His eyes glanced between the other two men in the room.Â
âShould we take this somewhere more comfortable?â Yunho asked and earned nods from across the room.Â
âBedroom, baby. Be ready for us. Weâll be there shortly.âÂ
You stood and felt Mingi tap your ass on the way past as he watched you make your way to the hallway. Entering your shared bedroom, you quickly stripped down to just your underwear before sitting in the middle of the bed.Â
Your thoughts drifted as you fiddled with the bed sheets beneath you. It only took a moment for doubt to claw its way into your thoughts. Doubt that maybe they didnât want this, didnât want you, that maybe they figured out Wooyoung's plan and found it off putting.Â
However, those thoughts were quickly pushed back as the doorway filled with the familiar bodies.Â
âLook at that, she listens so well.â Yunho commented as he brushed past Mingi to enter the room. He went to the far side of the bed while Mingi moved to kneel on the edge closest to him.Â
âTold you sheâll be good for us.â Mingi spoke, eyes meeting yours as his hand came to rest on your ankle. âWant a run down for whatâs about to happen?â
âYes, please.âÂ
âThought you would,â He chuckled as he rubbed soothing circles into your ankle. âYunhoâs gonna lead tonight, what he says goes, he knows your safe word but may also use the stop light system. You remember both?âÂ
âYes, twilight or red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for keep going.â You answered, earning a hum of delight from Yunho who was working his way behind you on the bed. Wooyoung made his way into your line of sight at the end of the bed.Â
âGood girl.â Mingi praised with a smile. âReady?âÂ
âYes.â You answered softly. A hand came up from behind to softly cup your jaw. Yunho's chest pressed into your back as his legs came to rest on the outside of your own.
âYes, who?â Yunho asked, causing you to tear your eyes from Mingiâs.Â
âYes, sir.â You quickly corrected seeing the dart glint in the older manâs eyes. He chuckled with a nod as he let go of your jaw.Â
His hands trailed down your sides, moving to your thighs to pull them over his legs and expose you to the two in front of you. The dark spot already spreading on your thin panties doing little to hide the desire filling you. Mingiâs hand started to drift up, but didnât get anywhere near where you wanted him, causing a whine to fall from your lips.Â
âDonât whine, baby.â
âFuck, sheâs soaked.â Wooyoung spoke as he moved lower to get a better view.Â
âOh, yeah? Dirty girl, we havenât even touched you yet.â Yunho spoke as his hand drifted to the top of your panties.Â
Hooking his fingers into the thin material, he carefully pulled them off your legs, groans leaving the men in front of you as they stuck to your core for a moment. Leaning into Yunho, you felt how affected he was, his hard cock pressing into your back.
âLook so pretty, I wanna taste.â Wooyoung spoke up, moving on to the bed. His hand rested on your other ankle.Â
âYeah, wanna prep our girl for us?â Mingi asked with a smirk.Â
âGet your little slut ready?â Yunho added, as his hands slid up and down your sides. His eyes locking with Mingiâs for a second.Â
Wooyoung glanced between the two taller men, eyes holding a silent plea for permission from either one. Yunho's legs stretched yours open just a little more, giving him a slight nod.Â
Wooyoung moved quickly, as if afraid Yunho would steal you away. He crawled up to lay himself between your legs. His eyes met yours, a smirk on his face as he dove in. Flattening his tongue he lapped at your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He then slowed down, his tongue exploring more, as he tried to find the spots that would make you a mess. His tongue moves down, pushing its way in, lapping up your essence as his nose bumps your clit.
A moan tumbled from your mouth, head falling back on Yunho's shoulder.Â
âOh, she liked that⊠Hmm, imagine riding his face, bet you she'd look hot.â Yunho spoke with a smirk, glancing at Mingi.
âMaybe some other time.â He answered and you turned your head toward him.Â
Some other time?Â
With all three of them?
Wooyoung's words rang around your mind, just a night of fun. This wasn't the same for him as the other two in the room. Either they didnât know that, or didnât care.Â
Before you could think too much about the implication of his words, Wooyoung used his hands to spread your lips and teased a finger at your entrance. Slowly pushing his finger in, you moaned as he curled it a few times. Pulling it out, a second finger joined shortly, beginning to thrust, creating a pace to push you closer to the edge.
âGod, she's so tight.â Wooyoung mumbled, glancing at Mingi. His thumb replacing his mouth for a moment.Â
âYeah? Just wait till sheâs wrapped around you.âÂ
Wooyoung bit his lip, a deep groan muffled by it as he began a scissoring motion.Â
Yunho's lips found your neck, sucking the sensitive skin as his hands moved to unclasp your bra. He then slowly dragged the straps down your arm, hands brushing down your arms. Throwing the material on the floor, his hands dragged themselves back up, leaving goosebumps in their way. His hands soon found your breasts, kneading the sensitive mounds.Â
Moans continued to pour from your mouth as Wooyoungâs fingers brushed the spot he had been searching for.
âThere it is.â
ââBout time.â Mingi chided, rolling his eyes as he moved closer to your head. His lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss. His tongue enters your mouth and easily takes control of the kiss. He soon pulled away, moving to your sensitive neck opposite of Yunho, before kissing down to your chest. Your hand moved to his belt, attempted to free the bulge growing as he sucked a nipple into his mouth.
Wooyoung hummed into your pussy, winding the coil in your core tighter as your other hand found his hair. Tugging him closer, he groaned again as he felt you clench. Your other hand grips around the outline of Mingi's cock, sending his groan through your chest.
Your eyes clenched shut as you crashed over the edge. Wooyoung's fingers gave a couple more thrusts before slipping out of your slowly. His mouth not leaving you as he slurps up the rest of your cum.Â
You lost track of whose hands were where as they moved you to straddle Yunho. Legs on either side of his, you couldn't stop yourself from grinding into his growing desire. Your eyes crack open to watch his reaction.
Yunhoâs eyes slip shut as he groans. His hands hold your hips still as the other two move behind you. You could hear clothes being removed, but kept your eyes on the man under you.Â
âSo greedy, you just came and you already want more?â He teased, slowly opening his eyes once more. His pupils wide as they stare into you. âGive me a color, baby girl.â
âGreen, so fucking green, sir.â You spoke, desperation clear in your voice.
Your hands moved to his shirt, pulling at the obstructing material. He chuckled and moved to pull it off, throwing it to the floor. His lips then captured yours in a fierce kiss. He moved to lay on his back, pulling you with him. Your hands found his belt and began to unbuckle it. Making quick work of it and the button of his pants.
Yunho pulls away from the kiss to help you remove the obstructing materials. His erection curvses toward his abs, precum already leaking from the tip. You couldnât stop the gasp that left your mouth. Wrapping your hand around his length, your finger tips didnât quite touch. While his length was right there with Mingiâs you were definitely concerned about him fitting.Â
âIs it bigger than you expected?â Yunho asked softly, wrapping his large hand around your own. He guided your hand to lightly pump him a few times as his other hand moving to your waist. You found yourself nodding as you moved closer to him.Â
âItâs okay, heâll go slow.â Mingi spoke now behind you. âHeâll fit, you can handle it, baby.â Mingiâs lips found your shoulder as he urged you closer to his best friend.Â
âIâll be slow, sweet girl. Still green?â Yunho asks as Mingi raises you up. You give him a nod as you untangle your hand from his letting him guide himself to your entrance. You leaned into Mingi, letting him hold you up as you slowly sunk onto Yunhoâs length. The stretch causes your eyes to shut in pain, your hands finding Mingiâs and grasping tightly.
âAlmost there, doll. Just a little more.â Wooyoung spoke from beside you, his hand moving to touch your clit. His lips kiss your cheek, pulling your attention away from the stretch for a moment.Â
You moaned softly as your hips finally became flush with Yunhoâs. You gave yourself a moment before moving your hands to his chest to lean forward.Â
âReady, baby girl?â Yunho asked and you nodded. âUse your words for me.â
âYes, sir, please fuck me.â You begged, eyes meeting his dark orbs. He smirks as his hands replace Mingiâs on your hips.Â
Raising yourself up, you moan as you sink back down. Yunho helps you create a rhythm as you move your hands beside his head. Your breasts bouncing with each rough thrust.
Mingi's hands move to your neck and slowly trail their way down your back. Upon reaching your ass, he gave it a light smack, jolting you forward and dragging a loud yelp from your throat.Â
âWoo, hand me the lube. Top drawer.â Mingi spoke softly, and Wooyoung pulls away from you to open the nightstand and give Mingi what he requested.Â
Hearing the lid pop open, you glanced over your shoulder to see your boyfriend smirking.Â
âGonna try something new, baby.â He tells you, gently pushing you forward. Your chest presses into Yunhoâs. Yunhoâs hands move to grip your ass, using it as leverage to move you, but also spread you open. You felt Mingi drip a good amount of lube down your back and to your other hole. The cool feeling causes you to clench down. Â
âOh fuck, so tight⊠I think you're forgetting someone though, baby girl.â Yunho spoke, bringing your attention back to him. His head tilted to bring your attention to Wooyoung.
He sat next to Yunho, biting his lip while slowly rubbing his hard on. His eyes followed your movements, hand moving in tandem with every lift of your hips.Â
âWhy don't you help him out while Mingi gets you ready?â Yunho suggested with a smirk. You nodded, your hand moving to replace Wooyoung's.Â
You feel Mingi's middle finger start to make its way to your other hole, gently entering and earning a groan from Yunho as you tense once more. Your eyes meet Wooyoung's as you move your mouth to the head of his erection.Â
Your tongue swirls around the tip before you lower your head to take him in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, Wooyoung groans as your nose brushes the hair around his base, his cock hitting your throat. His hand tangles in your hair creating a makeshift ponytail, as one of yours grips his tense thigh. You let him guide your head as you lose yourself in the sensations.Â
âLook at her, already cock drunk.â Wooyoung spoke with a groan.Â
âMmm, so perfect like this, taking me so well. Such a perfect little slut.â Yunho whispered in your ear, dragging a moan from your throat.Â
âOh, fuck.â Wooyoung groans, throwing his head back once more.
A second finger thrusts into your ass causing you to pull back and suck in a deep breath. The pain of the stretch mixed with the pleasure of Yunho hitting the spot that had you seeing stars. Your eyes roll back for a moment, as Yunho's thrusts become harder.Â
âI'm close, baby girl. Where do you want me?â
âInside, please, inside.â You beg as Wooyoung's hand tightens around your hair. He taps your lips with his tip, prompting you to open your mouth again.Â
âYeah, dirty girl? Want me to fill you up? Have you stuffed full by the end of the night? Give it to me then, cum for me.â Yunho growls into your ear. You moan around Wooyoung's length as his pace increases. Yunho then began thrusting up harder into you. With Mingi still working you open, your eyes slide shut, thighs shaking as you crash over the edge.
Yunho wasnât far behind. After a couple of thrusts, you felt him pulse as his release coated your walls. Wooyoungâs moans grew louder as he tumbles over as well, his cum pouring down your throat. He then slowly pulls out, telling you to swallow what was in your mouth. You do so, sticking your tongue out as proof.Â
You then collapse onto Yunhoâs chest. Mingi sucks in a breath as he pulls his fingers out and Yunho spreads you open for him. Glancing back at your boyfriend once more, you see a smirk spread across his face. A whine leaves your lips as Yunho gently pulls out with a light pop. You feel his cum start to pour out until Mingi quickly scoops it up with a finger and pushes it back in.Â
âIs she good and prepped?â Yunho asked after a moment, looking over at his best friend.Â
âYeah, sheâs ready.â Mingi spoke. His hands move to wrap around you, pulling you up and into his chest. He angles your head to capture your lips, noisily kissing you. You smile into the kiss, letting him take control and enjoying the feel of his plush lips against yours. There was a dopey feel to your movements, as though you were up on cloud nine.
âWooyoung, you want next?âÂ
âDo you really need to ask?â Wooyoung scoffed as Yunho slipped out from under you, allowing the younger man to take his place. His cock was already hard again, hitting his abs as he positioned himself at your entrance.
âCalm yourself or you won't be cumming again.â Yunho ordered. A dark glint now in his eyes as he stared Wooyoung down. Wooyoung's pupils dilated as he left out an involuntary whimper. He bit his lip as he stared up at Yunho. The noise causes you and Mingi to break apart.Â
âOh, you like that? Like when I put you in your place, you little brat?â Yunho taunted, hand moving to grip Wooyoungâs chin. A smirk spread across his face as Wooyoung could only nod.Â
âFuck.â Mingi cursed as he gripped himself.Â
âYou like that, too?â Yunho asks as he glances at his best friend. He let out a small laugh almost in disbelief. âAll three of you are gonna be my subs? I'm spoiled.â Biting his lips he moved away from Wooyoung and closer to Mingi.Â
The two shared an intense moment as Yunho tilted Mingiâs face toward his. Your boyfriendâs hands loosen around your body, carefully letting you lower yourself into Wooyoungâs embrace. You turned around in Wooâs arms to watch the two taller men.Â
Mingiâs hand came up to grip the back of Yunhoâs neck, their foreheads meeting. Their lips then crashed together like a tidal wave, a groan leaving Mingi as Yunho bit his lip. You couldnât stop the whimper that left your own mouth at the sight of the two.Â
âHow hot is that? And you get to have both of them to yourself. How lucky are you, doll?â Wooyoung whispers in your ear, as his hands begin to trail down your body. His hand soon comes into contact with your clit causing you to moan and throw your head back against his shoulder.
âDid I say you could touch?âÂ
Wooyoung moved his hand away instantly as if burned, placing them just above your hips. Snapping your head up, your eyes met Yunhoâs. His eyes then dragged down your body leaving a burning desire in its wake. Mingiâs eyes stayed locked on Yunho, all three ears waiting on his commands. The three of you were like puppets, Yunho your puppeteer, controlling the show. His attention turned back to Mingi.Â
âSince youâve been so good for me, Iâll let you choose. How do you want your girl?âÂ
âLet me have that tight pussy, please Yunho.â Mingi begged, causing your eyes to widen.Â
You had never heard him beg before, at least not in the bedroom. He was always your dominant, making you beg and follow his instructions. You found yourself clenching around nothing and biting your lip in anticipation.Â
âTake it. Take our dirty girl.â Yunho ordered, releasing Mingi. Despite everything around you, you noted that this was the first time Yunho had called you theirs and not just Mingi's. An omission that you wouldâve thought about longer if not for Mingi moving in between your legs.Â
Mingiâs left hand went to your hip while his right fisted his cock. He rubbed his tip through your folds a couple of times, coating himself in your juices before pushing in with a groan. You moaned, eyes meeting his as your hands moved to his arms at the overwhelming sensation.Â
You became lost in the sensationâin him. There was no care in you as to whose hands were where, or that more than one person was touching you. Hands began massaging your chest, while someone else rubbed at your clit. Your thoughts only on the man in front of you as he set a fast tempo pace. Mingi bit his lip, focusing on the spot he knew would have you coming undone quickly. Only to be stopped by a hand on his chest.Â
âGonna finish her so soon? You didnât forget about Woo again did you?â Yunho asks as he wraps himself around Mingi, eyes finding yours over his shoulder.Â
Unable to find your words, you shake your head.
âDidnât think so, our good girl. Woo, you gonna take her ass?â Yunho spoke, tone slightly condescending as his thumb continued to circle your clit slowly.
âFuck yeah I will.â The youngest man answered, thrusting his hips to rub his erection against your back, where it was still pressed.Â
âThen do it already, sheâs close.â As Mingi ordered the younger around, you found yourself clenching down once more. âShit, baby girl. Youâre choking my dick, not gonna last if you keep that up.âÂ
Wooyoung grabbed the lube from where Mingi left it on the bed. You heard him pop open the lid, moving you forward to coat his member in a decent amount. He then aligned himself with your puckered hole. His hands guiding and helping you sink down on his member.Â
âFuck! So tight, gotta relax for me, doll.âÂ
âBreathe, baby. Let him in. Fuck can feel him filling you.âÂ
âGonna take them so well, our good girl.âÂ
They whispered sweet words in an attempt to distract you from the burning stretch. Mingi had never taken your ass before, preferring the feel of your pussyâs tight velvety walls. He only now second guessed that decision, seeing the bliss on Wooyoungâs face before he was even fully flush with your body. Upon finishing sliding in, the two gave you a moment to adjust as you lean yourself fully into Wooyoung.
âShit, canât hold back anymore.â Wooyoung spoke after a moment, beginning to thrust up into you, his nails carving mini crescents into your hips. His thrust pushed Mingi in deeper, causing him to groan as he leaned over you a little more.Â
âLook at her taking both of you. Sucking you both in, like she doesn't want to let you go.â Yunho teased.Â
The two soon found a rhythm, moving so one was always filling you. Moans continued to tumble from your mouth as your eyes shut in pure bliss. You felt yourself sink into the feeling coursing through you, becoming somewhat unaware of what was happening around you. Body tingling from the pleasure coursing through it.Â
âWanna try something.â Yunho mumbled and Mingi suddenly stilled inside of you letting out a loud groan.Â
Your eyes snapped open to see what was happening, noticing Yunho still behind Mingi.Â
âOh, fuck.â Mingi groaned as you heard the snap of Yunhoâs hips.Â
âFuck, youâre so tight. Relax, Mingi.â It wasnât hard to figure out what was happening, your eyes rolling back at the thought. The image of Yunho fucking your boyfriend being enough to push you over the edge, body spasming as you come undone.
âShit, baby. Gonna⊠cum.â Mingi groaned into your shoulder as Yunho continued to thrust into him, jolting him into you more. Your sensitive walls clamping down around him.Â
âYeah, gonna cum for us, Min? Fill our girl up?â Yunho spoke into his ear, causing Mingi to groan more.Â
âHoly shit, she's so tight. Fuck.â Wooyoung cursed as he tried to force himself to slow down, not wanting to come undone too early.
Curses tumbled out of Mingi's mouth as he all but collapsed on top of you. Your hypersensitive walls feel him pulse with each rough thrust from Yunho. It didn't take long till he was spilling inside you with a loud groan. Wooyoung's curses joined his as he tumbled over the edge as well. Their ropes of cum, covering your walls in white once more.Â
Yunho stopped his thrusts, groaning as he slowly pulled out of Mingi to savor the feeling. Taking a moment to breathe, Mingi stayed where he was. His hands rubbing your sides, to soothe you or himself you couldn't tell.Â
After a moment, Mingi pulled himself up and out. He helped to pull you off Wooyoung and you could feel the mess between your legs spilling onto the sheets. You couldn't find it in you to care though as you spotted Yunho sitting on the edge of the bed. A burning desire still in his eyes and he fisted his cock to the sight of you.Â
âColor?â He questioned, noticing your eyes on him.Â
âStill green, sir. Just sensitive.â
âStill want more? Even after all that?â He asked and you nodded, biting your lip. Your eyes dart between his clearly still hard cock and his eyes. You would do anything to help him with his problem once more.Â
âDamn, insatiable.â Wooyoung spoke with a smirk as he laid to the side, seemingly spent.Â
Mingi's eyes trailed your body, biting his lips as he looked at your swollen pussy. His cock twitched at the thought of going again, knowing your walls would wrap around him so well as sensitive as you were.
His eyes then moved to Yunho, taking in his form. His best friend had never looked more attractive. Pupils blown wide, biting his lips, with a hand wrapped around himself. Mingi was tempted to get a taste, but had a better idea as he looked at you once more.Â
âWanna take her pussy together?â He asked, voice rough. He wanted to feel both of you as he came undone. To have you wrapped around both of them like they were around your fingers.
Yunho's eyes reluctantly pulled away from yours to meet Mingi's. A smirk pulled at his lips as he released his lower lip from his teeth. A brow raised at the idea, seeing the hopeful desire on Mingi's face.
âThink she can handle it?â
âKnow she can. Right, baby?â Mingi asked, looking at you once more.Â
âYes, please. I can take it.â The plea leaving your mouth without much thought. The two shared a look before moving.Â
Mingi was now behind you, maneuvering you to your knees. Yunho moved in front of you, taking your arms and wrapping them around his neck. You clung to him as Mingi aligned himself with your entrance once more.Â
Your eyes slid shut as you felt him push in. A moan fell from your lips as your nails dug into Yunhoâs back. An overwhelming pleasure consuming you as he rubbed against your sensitive walls once more. Once his hips met yours, Yunhoâs hand cupped your jaw. Your eyes blinked open, meeting his dark chocolate orbs.Â
âColor?â
âGreen.â You answered without hesitation.Â
âYou sure baby, youâre gripping me pretty tight.â Mingi questioned, almost teasing as he rested his head on your shoulder. His arms wrap around you completely, holding you to him.Â
âYes, please. Ruin me.â You begged.Â
Yunho hesitated for a second before placing his tip at your entrance. His eyes glanced between yours and Mingiâs, as if trying to drag out this moment.Â
âGive her what she wants, Yuyu.â Wooyoung spoke, resting on his elbows, eyes just taking in everything in front of him.Â
Yunho cursed and began to push inside. You couldnât help but tense up at the new intrusion, your breath hitching. The stretch feeling almost too much, like they were going to tear you in half. Mingi cursed and groaned, the feeling of you clenching around him with Yunho rubbing up against him, having him closer to the edge than he expected. Yunhoâs head fell forward, resting on your shoulder.Â
âRelax, baby girl or I wonât get a chance to ruin you.â Yunho growls, holding on to what little control he still has.
âIâm trying.â You whined, feeling overwhelmed. The color yellow at the tip of your tongue. Discomfort and sensitivity almost too much for you to handle. Mingiâs arms being the steady anchor, grounding you.
âDonât whine, baby. You wanted this.â Mingi growled into your ear. âYou know what to say to make us stop.â
You stayed silent, not wanting to say itâwanting to see how this would go.
âJust take me,â Yunho muttered, not hearing anything from you. He continued to shove his way in. âTake us.âÂ
His hips snapped flush with yours. Your eyes rolled as you collapsed back into Mingi, hands still gripping Yunhoâs shoulders. If you werenât in a daze, you would be sure that you broke his skin. An overwhelming feeling of fullness washed over you. Your sensitive walls pulsing around them.Â
Yunho and Mingiâs eyes met over your shoulder, the two giving you and themselves a moment to adjust to the feeling. Mingiâs arms loosen around you as his hand grabs the back of Yunhoâs head, crashing their lips together again.Â
Their kiss seemed to break you from the daze you fell into. You met Wooyoung's eyes, a lazy smirk on his face as he watched the three of you together. He moves to kneel next to you, fisting himself as his lips find yours. Your eyes widen, not expecting this from him. He pulls back and turns your attention back to pillars holding you up.
Watching as Yunho bit Mingi's plush lip, forcing them open so he could get a taste. Their lips dancing together in a beautiful mess. Wooyoungâs lips find your tender neck, abusing the skin there for a moment.Â
Breaking apart, Yunho turned his attention to you. His lips crashed into yours and you felt more than heard the moan Mingi released. Wooyoungâs lips leave your neck as he moves closer to Mingi, giving his neck similar attention to yours. Mingi then gave an experimental thrust. Your moan spilling into Yunho's mouth, granting him access to your mouth. His tongue explored freely, his level of control to be admired as he soon joined Mingi. The two soon creating a rhythm that had you seeing stars.
You felt the daze return, the pleasure making you numb to everything else. Yunho pulled away from your mouth, allowing your whines and moans to spill freely into the air.Â
âGripping us so tight, fuck. What a perfect pussy. Not gonna last.âÂ
âGonna ruin you for anyone else, just like you wanted. You're ours. Only ours.â Mingi growled into your ear.Â
âSay it, say that you're ours.â
âI'mâŠyour's!â You managed to gasp out, causing them to groan.
Your orgasm came crashing into you like a wave, quicker than any you'd ever experienced before. It felt like a dam had broken open as you squirted around their cocks, drenching the sheets below you.Â
âOh shit, she's gone.â Wooyoung spoke from over Mingiâs shoulder.Â
âOh fuck, gonna cum.â Mingi groaned.Â
âDo it, cum with me.â Yunho commanded, their thrusts growing in intensity as he neared his peak.Â
The two came crashing seconds apart, spilling into you, coating your walls in white once more. Your mind went blank as your body shook from the intensity.Â
You weren't sure when they pulled out or who left to grab a towel, conscious only returning as Mingi carefully cleaned your legs from your mixed orgasms. A wince leaving your lips at the feeling.Â
âThere you are, had us a little worried for a moment.â He spoke when he noticed your eyes registering him.Â
âYunho? Wooyoung?â You questioned, not having the energy to look around.Â
âRight here, baby girl, already miss me?â Yunho teased as he leaned over Mingiâs shoulder. He planted a kiss on his shoulder before resting his chin in the same spot. Â
âStill here, doll.â Wooyoung spoke, head popping into your field of view. However, he was in the process of getting dressed, attempting to find his shirt in the different piles on the floor. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, v-line still on display for your viewing pleasure.Â
âLeaving already?â You croaked out, voice rough.
Wooyoung hummed, pausing his search for a moment as he thought on what to say. âYou three have some things to discuss, Iâm just gonna give you the space to do so.â He spoke softly, finally finding his top and putting it on.Â
A frown formed on your face as he then walked over to the bed and leaned over. âThis wonât be the last you see of me, donât worry.â He gave you a wink and then placed a kiss on your forehead, nodding to the other two as he left the room.Â
After the door shut, the three of you sat in silence for a moment. Your eyes glanced between the two men as Mingi finished with the towel, throwing it toward your laundry bin.Â
âDo you want a bath? We can start one for you.â Mingi offered, but you shook your head.Â
âWe should probably talk about this.â Yunho spoke softly, eyes glancing between the two of you.Â
You hum in acknowledgement, moving to sit up slightly so as to be at the same level.Â
âI think⊠I know what I want now.â Mingi spoke hesitantly, eyes down, looking at the bed.Â
âAnd whatâs that?âÂ
âI want both of you... I want you both to be mine, whatever that looks like.â He spoke, eyes glancing tentatively at Yunho.Â
âAnd you baby girl? You want the same?â Yunho asked, eyes moving to you.Â
You nodded, âYeah, it sometimes already felt like I was with both of you. I just want the confusion and tension gone.â You admitted with a small smile. Mingiâs hand moved to yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles as if apologizing for putting you through that. His eyes met yours and held a loving softness to them that had your heart melting all over again.
âI want you both too.â Yunho spoke, bringing your attention to him. âI used to think I was jealous of Mingi, thinking I just wanted you, but then there were times where I wanted to be in your place as well. I had thoughts of both of you, but after what Wooyoung did tonight, I realized I wasnât necessarily jealous of either of you, I just wanted in. I just wanted both of you.â Yunho confessed.
âFuck, we coudâve done this so much sooner.â Mingi cursed, causing you to laugh.Â
âLetâs not think about that too much. Now come cuddle.â You spoke, opening your arms to both of them.Â
âYou heard her.â Yunho joked as he moved. They wrapped themselves on either side of you, Yunho being a big spoon around you as you curled into Mingiâs chest. You knew by the end of the night he would end up the little spoon though, unable to resist having your arms around him.
Closing your eyes, you felt yourself start to drift to sleep.Â
âI think weâll need to properly thank Wooyoung, you know?â Yunho mumbled into your hair.Â
Summary: part 2 of Dr. Choi. Both Dr. Jeong and Dr. Choi call you in for an âemergencyâ appointment when you call about side effects you were having from the medication sent home with you.
This is a form of FICTION AND FANTASY and is not okay to happen in a real like scenario. Medical professionals should not act like this. Read at your own risk.
Content warning: PLEASE READ ALL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. NO MINORS. Yunho and San are not good people in this. This is an act of pure fiction and in no way reflect the actual people. Reader given medication under false pretenses. Multiple uncontrollable orgasms. Masturbation. Squirting. Medical examination. Manipulation. Devious consent. Patient given sexually stimulating medication. Fingering. Nipple play. Nipple clamps. Oral sex. (F and m receiving) Use of sex toys on reader. Lots of squirting. Squirting on face. Rimming (f receiving.) dirty talk. Degradation. Corruption. P in V. Throat fucking. Choking. Gagging. Cream pie. Unprotected sex (dont do it ok). Anal sex. Using cum as lube. Pussy spanking. Overstimulation. Gaslighting. Let me know if I missed any.
Two days had passed since your appointment, 5 more to go before the next. You tossed and turned in bed, replaying your last appointment with Dr. Choi in your mind. You tried to shake off the desire you had for him and only focus on his professionalism. He was a new doctor. Not a lover. You had to remember that.
Even if your body didnât.
You reached for the bottle of pills Dr. Choi gave you and shook them around before popping one out in your hand. He had told you to use them âas neededâ which, in this moment, they were needed. The tingling sensation returning between your legs as you run back the images in your head of the examination. Yes, it was arousal. But it was something much deeper, more potent. You looked to extinguish the fire before it burned you.
You placed it under your tongue and let it dissolve in hopes of the effects taking place immediately. You cringed through the bitter taste for a moment and washed out the remainder with water.
You settled down deep into your pillow, the cold of the fabric comforting you. The promise of relief helping your brain settle down and you started to drift off to sleep..
You woke up a few minutes later gasping for air. Your heart raced and you felt an overwhelming thumping between your thighs. Your muscles convulsed and you could feel the sticky wetness that clung the panties to your skin.
You had just cum in your sleep, and you were about to cum again.
You plunged your hand down the front of your panties and frantically rubbed your clit, unable to resist the temptation. You let out a loud moan you were sure your neighbors could hear and had another orgasm, your fingers getting drenched in your cum.
The pulsing still continued and so did your fingers. You couldnât stop cumming. You plunged two fingers inside of your cunt and stroked your swollen g- spot, dragging out a gushing climax, drenching your sheets. It still was not enough.
You lost track of how many times you came until you finally felt satisfied. Your soaked sheets suddenly repulsed you, making you feel uneasy. These pills should have helped you, not make it 10X worse. You reached for the bottle to read any information however, most of it was blank. Only Dr. Choiâs name was printed on the label and his phone number.
âCall if concerns arise.â
You grabbed your phone and dialed his number, not caring about the time. Dr. Choi answered on the second ring, his voice riddled with sleep.
âHello?â
âDr. Choi? Itâs y/n. Iâm sorry to call but I took one of the pills you prescribed me and-â
You could hear him shifting behind the receiver, sitting up in his bed to focus. He had been expecting your call but of course, you didnât know that.
â-and I think whatever ingredient that is in that lubricant Iâm allergic to is also in these pills. But there are no ingredients I can see on the bottle. What are these again?â
âDid you have another reaction?â He brushed past your questions about the ingredients and focused on getting the information he was truly after from you.
âYes. I just- I just orgasmed in my sleep. And kept climaxing uncontrollably after it woke me up.â You shyly explained to him, your voice falling to just above a whisper.
âI see. And you climaxed without stimulation?â
âWell, the one time in my sleep. But the others.. I was just trying to make the feeling go away and I just couldnt. It took so many times until the feeling went away.â
He could envision how you looked as the heat of embarrassment flowed to your cheeks from on the other end of the phone. It made his cock twitch.
âThis is a bit puzzling. I need to research this right away and do an evaluation. Can we move your appointment up to tomorrow at 5pm?â
âYes. Iâll be there, Doctor.â
ââââââââââ-
Dr. Choi opened the door to the exam room and you were surprised to see Dr. Jeong inside.
âHello, itâs good to see you.â He greeted you with a warm smile.
âOh, hi Dr. Jeong. I wasnât expecting you.â
âWhen you called about the side effects you had to the medication I asked Dr. Jeong here to join us. Do you mind?â Dr. Choi asked you.
âNo, not at all.â
âGreat. Have a seat on the exam table and letâs discuss what we will be doing today.â Dr. Choi extended his hand out to the table.
Once you took a seat you felt the air in the room shift slightly, a bead of sweat gathered on the back of your neck. The two doctors stood in front of you with hands folded across their chests.
âSo, we believe the medication prescribed to you is causing a reaction with your erogenous zones. We also think the same reaction occurred with the lubricant I used on our last appointment.â
âErogenous zones?â You questioned, unfamiliar with the word.
âThe part of your body linked to sexual pleasure.â Dr. Jeong explained.
âYes, exactly.â Dr. Choi nodded. âAnd weâd like to look a bit further into this theory to make sure we are correct as well as figure out exactly how and why you are being affected as severely as you are.â
You were silent for a moment, taking in exactly what they were proposing. They wanted you to become aroused?
âJust to make sure I have this correct, you want me to have a âreactionâ so you can study me?â
Both of them chuckled a little bit at your question, finding your innocent charming.
âYes. You will be perfectly safe and wonât be in any medical danger. It doesnât seem like the reaction is fatal in any way. We are both medical professionals just trying to get a better understanding of whatâs happening to you.â
Dr. Choiâs calming voice and Dr. Jeongâs smile put you at ease. Although you had no idea what sort of âexaminationâ they had in store for you, you agreed without any more hesitation.
âGo ahead and take one more pill. Let it dissolve. We will step out for a moment to let you undress and we will be back soon.â
You followed Dr. Jeongâs instructions: letting the bitter pill dissolve on your tongue and stripping down to nothing. You put on a medical gown, tying it in the front and sitting down on the exam table. The doctors both came back in a few minutes later just as you started to feel the familiar heartbeat between your thighs return to torture you.
âDo you feel the side-effects yet?â Dr. Jeong asked you. You nodded, but he shook his head gently. âI need you to use words with me so Iâm getting accurate information.â
âYes, I feel it.â You swallowed nervously.
âWhat do you feel?â
âI can feel a thumping in my vagina. Like a pulse.â You explained, the word âvaginaâ making you cringe.
âYou can use a word other than âvaginaâ if you want.â Dr. Jeong offered, sensing the uncomfortableness in your voice.
âOkay.â You nodded. âMy pussy is pulsing. Like a throbbing feeling.â
Both of their cocks twitched under their medical coats.
âI see.â Dr. Jeong rubbed the back of his neck with his hand in deep thought. In the corner of your eye you saw Dr. Choi writing something down on a piece of paper. Notes of the exam maybe?
âPlease lay in position for us on the table. Back flat and feet in the stirrups.â
You did as you were told and bit your lip to hold back the gasp that bubbled up in your mouth at the feeling of the cold air against your wet pussy. You felt and heard your folds spread open as you placed your feet in their place on the stirrups.
It took everything in their power not to take you right then and there. The way your cunt glistened in front of them, practically leaking onto the table, made their mouths water.
âLetâs take a closer look.â Dr. Choi said and handed the other doctor a pair of gloves. They both put them on snugly and walked over to the edge of the table.
Dr. Choi placed his gloved hand against your inter thigh, the warmth of his hand through the latex on your cold skin made goosebumps stand up on your body.
âLook at the way she swells.â Dr. Jeong comments his counterpart. His fingers hovering over your slit. You could not feel them but you could sense them. You felt yourself clench once from the anticipation which did not go unnoticed.
âDid you see that?â Dr. Jeong gasped.
âI told you, itâs an incredible reaction.â
Dr. Jeong dove in for a deeper look, placing each hand on either side of your opening and tugging them to the sides, spreading you open to him. He could see everything so clear now, especially how wet you were.
âThe amount of arousal she has coming out is notable. A lot more than I expected.â You suddenly felt the light graze of a fingertip just below your opening. It swiped up your dripping slick and dragged it slowly up your aching slit. A broken moan slipped from your lips.
âIâm so sorry-â you started to apologize but they both shook their heads âno.â
âThereâs nothing to be worried about. The office staff went home since this is very sensitive research.â Dr. Choi assured you.
The fingers that touched you spread your folds open with two fingers. They felt long, leading you to the conclusion they were Dr. Jeongâs. You felt your clit start to throb but, too soon, he pulled his fingers away.
âLetâs check her nipples. They were engorged on her last appointment so they should be now as well.â
Dr. Choi carefully untied the front of your medical gown and laid it open. Your entire body was now exposed, breasts on full display for the doctor team. They stood on each side of you now. Both of them taking one hand and grabbing a breast.
âThe right side definitely feels engorged as you get closer to the nipple.â Dr. Jeong told Dr. Choi as he massaged the soft mound in his big hand.
âThe left side feels as you described as well.â
You closed your eyes in a big sigh as you took in the feeling of both of them squeezing at your tits. You arched your back up off the table into their touches without thinking. Both of the doctors smirked at each other due to your bodyâs reaction to their touch. Then, at the same time, they both gently tugged on your nipples.
âOh!â You felt yourself clench down below around nothing.
âWow, the nipples are really sensitive from this. Highly affected.â
âYes. I noted that last time as well. I think we should utilize the clamps now, to see how she reacts, what do you say?â Dr. Choi suggested and Dr. Jeong nodded.
âY/n, weâre going to place two of these tiny clamps on your nipples. Itâs going to make the blood travel to them and make them more sensitive. For the exam. Alright?â
You were too turned on to think logically about what was being asked of you. Not caring to question the methods they were using to study you. You just nodded in agreement, brain almost mush.
Dr. Jeong walked over to the counter and opened a drawer, taking out two metal clamps with rubber ends on them. He opened them and attached one to each of your nipples. The pressure on your sensitive ends stung the tiniest bit but the pulse between your legs only got stronger.
âDoctor, take a look right here.â Dr. Choi pointed down at your core. âYou can see her clitoris twitching.â
Dr. Jeong walked over to look at your pussy once again. You were visibly throbbing.
âOh, my. Is this a concern?â He brought his gloved hand forward and placed his hand over your heat. He could feel your pussy pulse against his palm. Without thinking, you used your hips to grind against his touch a few times before he pulled away.
âFuck.â He hissed under his breath, low enough for only Dr. Choi to hear.
âI think Dr. Jeong should do an internal exam. What do you think, y/n?â
âWhatever is necessary.â You answered breathlessly.
A hint of a smirk cracked on Dr. Jeongâs face but he quickly composed himself. He nodded and stood between your open legs, his hand giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze.
âLet me know if anything hurts or if you want me to stop.â He told you and you responded with a nod. After your agreement, he took two fingers and placed them at your entrance. He used his fingertips to stroke your opening, the light touches driving you up the walls. Once he felt you start to open up to take him, he pushed his long slender fingers inside of you one knuckle at a time.
You couldnât help but moan, feeling embarrassed as his eyes flickered up to meet yours for a moment after hearing the sound. He twisted his fingers around just like Dr. Choi had done in the appointment prior. You could feel every inch of his fingers rub against your sensitive walls. You started to leak down his gloves.
âWhile Dr. Jeong continues his exam, Iâm going to check on the clamps and what sort of results we got from those.â
Dr. San reached out and ran the tips of his fingers over your slightly purple nipples. The clamps had made the blood pool at the ends, making them overly sensitive to any touch.
âAh!â You let out a short cry from his when his fingers grazed you, feeling entirely caught off guard by how sensitive they had gotten. Dr. Choi removed the clamps, leaving your nipples completely swollen and engorged. He then took his index finger and started to flick the hard peaks, his nail scraping across the very tips.
Dr. Jeong down below felt you start to get tighter around his fingers. With the twist of his wrist, he brought his fingers up against your g-spot and started to stroke it with his fingertips.
âGod!-â your back arched off the table from the delicious sensation. Dr. Choi continued flicking and tweaking your nipples, each touch of his fingers sending a shockwave to your clit. Dr. Jeong stroked your walls deeply with a steady speed, his fingers curled up inside of you.
âI need you to climax, y/n. For us to see what happens before, during, and after you do.â Dr. Choi spoke in a low tone close to your ear. His voice was deep and sensual. âCan you do that for me please?â
You whimpered and nodded your head quickly, dragging a short chuckle from Dr. Choiâs chest.
âGood girl.â He told you, his pet-name sending you into your first orgasm. You came hard around the silicone, creaming down the sides and onto Dr. Jeongâs gloved hand. He fucked you until you rode out your climax entirely, collapsing flat on the table when you were done.
âHas the feeling subsided?â Dr. Jeong asked you. You shook your head no, still able to feel the never-ended pulse between your thighs. Dr. Choi walked over to a drawer close by and opened it, taking out an object and turning back towards you.
âI think we should insert this into you and see if that might give us any more answers.â Dr. Choiâs facade was faltering ever so slightly as he watched you tremble below him, a smirk appearing on his face while you made eye contact. He held up a standard silicon dildo, about 6inches in length. You started to shake your head no, still not fully recovered from your recent orgasm, but you felt Dr. Jeongâs long fingers caressing your shoulders in a comforting way. He was standing at the head of the exam bed, leaning over you and giving you a reassuring nod.
âYouâll be fine, dear. We wonât let anything bad happen to you.â
You looked up at him with glossy doe eyes that made his cock throb. He discreetly started to rut his erection against the table for some relief.
âOkay.â You whispered and braced yourself as you felt the tip of the toy start to push into you. Your cunt swallowing the length of it easily, walls aching to grasp it. He held it deep inside of you, the fullness making your pussy clench around it. His wrist moved it in and out of you slowly, your grasp around it giving him a bit of resistance that gave him a dark idea.
âDr. Jeong, Iâm feeling some resistance. We need some lubrication.â
Dr. Jeong nodded, excitement building in his chest knowing what was to come next as he grabbed the jar of drugged lubrication.
âWait, is this the same one from last time?â Your voice was frantic and full of panic.
âYes. I think itâs important for Dr. Jeong to see first-hand what happened to you last time. Itâs the same process as what we are doing the pills. We will monitor you and take care of you if anything happens.â Dr. Choi explained. You were hesitant to agree but gave in, the toy clenched up inside of you clouding your judgment.
He slathered the gel onto your pussy and around the base of the toy. Your already sensitive cunt started to pulsate once the contaminated lubricant touched you. Even without moving the toy inside of you yet, you could feel yourself getting close to another orgasm.
âFuck- itâs really strong this time!â You gasped, thrashing a tiny bit on the table. Dr. Jeong put gentle pressure on your shoulders to keep you still. Meanwhile, Dr. Choi started to push the toy in and out of you again. It slipped in and out of you effortlessly now, the wet squelches your cunt made as it took the silicone filling the room to both doctorâs delight.
âSheâs taking it quite well.â Dr. Choi said with a deeper than usual voice. âI can see every bit of her pulsating.â
âYouâre doing so good.â Dr. Jeong whispered to you directly in your ear. His lips were only a breath away and it sent shivers down your spine. The lubrication and medication pushing your pleasure to the limit, mixing with the intense feeling of Dr. Choi fucking you with the toy. You came around the device, clamping around it while your body shuttered. You started to babble, not realizing what words came out of your mouth.
âPlease, please, please! Please fuck me..â you whimpered as your orgasm continued to wash through you.
Dr. Jeong and Dr. Choi looked at each other, knowing this was the moment theyâve been working so diligently to get to. Dr. Choi finally removed the toy from you, leaving you empty and throbbing.
They both shrugged off their medical coats and took their pre-determined positions: Dr. Choi at the end of the table and Dr. Jeong at the top. Everything that had happened during this appointment was carefully planned and plotted.
Dr. Choi grabbed under your thighs and lifted them upwards, bending them back towards your chest. Dr. Jeongâs hands gripping them and holding them back against your ears.
âWait-â you gasped, another aftershock of your last orgasm still making you shutter.
âItâs okay, sweet. Dr. Choi is just going to observe how you react to his tongue, now.â
The words didnât fully register in your head, the meaning behind them floating in your brain unable to put them together in that moment. Clarity not setting in until you felt the doctors thick and heavy tongue lick a slow stripe up your slit.
You whimpered and tried to thrash but Dr. Jeongâs grip was too strong, allowing Dr. Choi to continue his steady licks against your cunt. You couldnât even protest due to the moans that clawed out of your throat every time you felt him slurp up your arousal.
âSannie, I think sheâs ready.â Dr. Jeong spoke, addressing the other casually like a friend. Dr. Choi, San, dragged his tongue further and further down, past your pussy entrance, and licked the piece of skin nestled between each of your holes. He tickled it with the tip of his tongue.
âHave you ever had your asshole licked?â Dr. Jeong asked you with his lips pressed to your ear, tickling your ear lobe.
âN-no.â You stuttered, taken aback by his sudden crudeness.
âYouâre going to love it.â
San dipped his head lower and used his tongue to lap teasing licks over your untouched entrance. The light graze woke up your senses to a new, intense, pleasure that unlocked something deep inside.
âWhat the fuck..â you felt your pussy start to pulse again, the remaining side effects of the lubricant still encouraging your muscles to tighten and blood to rush to your clit.
âLook down between your legs.â Dr. Jeong instructed you. âWatch him lick you there.â
You lifted your head off the table to look down between your held-open legs. San was already looking up at you, dark eyes low and intense. He didnât break eye contact as he ran his tongue continuously over your virgin hole. The new sensation shocked you completely. Each time you felt him touch it, you moaned. Soon enough, your cunt started to leak. The slick dripping down to where Sanâs tongue could lick it up as a sweet treat.
âWeâre we right? Do you like how it feels?â Dr. Jeong whispered sensually into your ear. Your head fell back down against the table and eyes rolled back to look up at him. A noise of satisfaction rumbled in his chest when you lazily nodded your head, your mind too clouded to form actual words.
San brought two fingers up to your dripping cunt to rub down on your clit with pressure while he lapped at you, the taboo pleasure that you felt down below making your next orgasm begin to develop. Both doctors knew you were almost there, a bit too familiar now with what it sounded like just before you were about to cum. Dr. Jeong shifted his hands down your legs, still holding them in place, but far enough down where he could extend a long finger and flick it across your nipples. The moment his fingertips brushed against them, you started to cum.
You screamed and your back lifted off the table. San continued to lap at your puckered hole while you climaxed, the intense feeling of it brushing against your nerves and making you gush.
âGod, youâre squirting all over him.â
You felt San hum in satisfaction, the vibrations tickling you. He licked you two more times before standing back up straight to take a look at your quivering body. You still convulsed even after he stopped, another gush flowing out of you and onto the floor.
âI told you sheâs a messy one, Yunho.â San chuckled, overflowing with confidence as he watched you still struggling to come down from the orgasm he gave you.
âDid she taste good?â
âYes. Sweet like candy.â He licked his lips to taste any remaining drops of your orgasm. Both of them started to move around the room once again, switching sides. Now, San was at the head of the table, Yunho was down below.
âI donât understand?â You whined to them, your heart beating a little faster as you saw Yunho start to undo his belt buckle.
âThis is all part of our research.â Both of them chuckled darkly at Yunhoâs response.
âYes, Miss y/n. We just want to see what happens when you take Dr. Jeongâs cock while on this drug we gave you. What do you say?â
At your feet, Yunho dropped his pants to the floor. His boxers strained against his leaking cock. He smirked as he watched you fixating on his clothed crotch and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, then slowly pulled them down until his dick sprung out in front of you.
Dr. Jeong cock was average in girth but long in length. A string of pre-cum started to drip from his pink tip, threatening to drop right on your used pussy. You should feel disgusted. Manipulated. Finally understanding their intentions were not pure. But, your cunt ached to feel his cock. Your opening throbbing, itching to take him inside. You were trying your best to fight against it, knowing it could just be the drugs.
âI donât- we shouldnât be doing this.â You weakly protested but made no effort to get yourself out of position.
âDo you want us to stop the appointment?â Dr. Choi asked you, not able to fight off the cocky smile on his face.
You didnât want to respond with the answer you knew you should say, unable to find the will. Not when you wanted to be filled so bad. The aching between your thighs overpowering every ounce of self control and self-respect you had.
âNo, I donât want to end the appointment.â You admitted in a weak huff. âPlease. Please continue with the exam.â That was the answer they had planned for, knowing you would give in and play along with their sick role-play.
âGood girl.â Yunho cooed at you. âDonât worry miss. Weâll take good care of you.â
San gripped you by the arms and pulled you further up on the exam table. Your head dangled off the end and ass sat in the middle. You felt Yunho get up onto the table with you, and position himself between your thighs. He grabbed them both and wrapped them around his waist, his cock now teasing your entrance.
San supported your neck with his hand, holding your face against his clothed erection. You groaned and ran your nose against the straining cotton. He pushed into you, taking advantage of your face, and started to rut himself against your cheek.
âFuck, you love this dont you?â San hissed through a clenched jaw.
âShe does. Her cunt is begging to swallow me.â Yunho groaned. âLook at how her opening grabs around my cock head.â
Both of them watched as you opened up and closed tightly around him. He shifted his hips ever so slightly where only his head was pushing in and out of you, teasing your hungry hole. You moaned due to both the sensation and also the knowledge that they were both watching. You buried your face harder into Sanâs crotch, placing your lips around his cock and teasing him over the fabric.
âDo you want your mouth filled also, pretty?â He groaned when he felt you. You nodded shyly and San started to undress. His cock falling out in front of you. He was average in length but thick. Your mouth watered at the sight and you couldnât help but extend your tongue out to lick away his precum that collected on his tip, making his eyes roll in the back of his head.
âSheâs ready.â Yunho told him and San nodded. Yunho gripped down hard on your thighs and slid his entire length inside of you. Your cunt swallowed him eagerly, your sensitive walls closing down onto him in a delicious way that milked him with every thrust. Your mouth fell open in pleasure, encouraging San to take advantage and push his tip against your lips.
You placed your lips around the head of his cock and suckled gently, the softness of your lips around his throbbing member sending shivers up his spine. You twirled your tongue around the tip, teasing his slit with the end of your tongue.
âTake more of me.â He instructed you but you didnât listen, too distracted by the rhythmic thrusts Yunho was pushing into you down below. This was as much as you could manage at the moment, or so you thought.
Yunho suddenly thrusted himself into your cunt hard, making you gasp in shock at the impact inside of you. With your mouth open wider thanks to Yunhoâs assistance, San pushed his way down your throat. You accepted his thick member with a strangled gag, eyes bulging in the shock of the sudden fill.
âListen when Iâm speaking to you.â San grunted to you as he started to roll his hips into your throat. âDoctorâs orders.â
Both of them now stuffed you at each end. Yunhoâs cock fucked you expertly, his hips rolling deeply into you then dragging his length back out almost completely to push into you over and over again while San relished in feeling his length scrape against the walls of your gagging throat, bulging visibly around him to his delight. The vibrations of your moans buzzing around his member and tickling his balls.
San, while continuing to fuck your throat, leaned over your body and gripped your breasts with his hands. He simultaneously used your breasts to pull his hips into your throat while using his thumb and index finger to pull at your painfully-sensitive nipples. The sensation sent shockwaves across your whole body and made you let go of any part of you that was still holding back. You relaxed your thighs, letting them fall open completely by your sides, spreading you open for Yunho to effortlessly take you how he wanted.
He groaned in satisfaction at your submission to them and rewarded you by picking up his pace. He reached his hand up to choke you, his hand wrapping around your throat to feel Sanâs cock slide in and out. His other hand reaching down between your bodies to rub his fingers in circles on your clit.
You screamed around Sanâs cock from the touch of Yunhoâs fingers. San slid himself out of your throat, knowing you would be cumming soon and wanted to hear you when you came on his friendâs cock. He bent down to get face to face with you, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet. He grabbed the back of your head and turned you to face him. You tried to focus as much as you could with your tear-blurred eyes, mouth hanging open with moans flowing out with every thrust from above.
âAre you going to be a good whore and cum on Dr. Jeongâs cock?â He asked you while looking at you in the eyes. His voice was light, almost mocking you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
âFuck..â Yunho groaned, the filthy words even affecting him.
âAnswer me.â San growled at your silence. You nodded frantically, your core tightening around Yunhoâs cock and choking down onto it. His hips started to quicken, but rhythm becoming sloppy and he climbed to his climax. He pressed down harder onto your clit.
âUUNNNGH- please!â You begged.
âPlease what?â San smirked.
âPlease, please, please..â you mindlessly begged, the tight string in your core about to snap.
âCum around his cock for me. Let me watch.â
His request sent you over the edge. Your thighs clamping down around Yunhoâs waist, pulling him deep inside of you while you came undone around him. Yunho spill into your pulsating cunt with a final and hard thrust. He collapsed on top of you, his cock leaking every last drop into you. He could feel your pussy continuing to throb around his now softening dick while you came down from your own climax.
San stroked your cheek comfortingly while Yunho slowly lifted himself off and out of you. He collected himself, taking a deep breath before snapping back into his role.
âLetâs take a look at your cunt now.â
Yunho pulled your limp body to the end of the table, your legs dangling off the end. Dr. Choi hit a button on the table and lifted the opposite end up, making you sit in an upright position leaned against the adjusted table. You could feel Dr. Jeongâs cum start to leak from your sore pussy, your hole still throbbing as it poured out of you.
âSo messy. What a good whore.â Yunho praised you, giving you a sloppy kiss on the temple. Your head was swimming, mind close to detaching from your used body.
âNow itâs my turn to cum.â Dr. Choi said, angling himself between your weak thighs. You used all your strength to lift your hands to block him from trying to enter your used and swollen pussy. Both of them chuckled at your pathetic attempt.
âPlease. I canât take it anymore.â You whimpered, begging for mercy.
âDonât worry, pretty. Thatâs not the hole I had in mind.â He told you, and rubbed the tip of his cock over your furthest hole. You groaned deeply from your chest and pulled your legs up to sit on the edges of the table, opening for him. Ready for another assault on your body.
âThatâs our good girl.â Yunho cooed at you, enamored by how well you were embracing being their play-thing. Their experiment.
San rubbed his clock against your slit first, spreading Yunhoâs cum and your orgasm around his shaft, and brought it back down to your ass. He used your orgasms to lubricate himself, making it easier when he finally pushed his tip into you.
âFuck-â you gasped at the faint sting of pain as his thick cock head stretched you open. Even with lots of your slick lubricating his cock, he still could not push in any further. Afraid he would tear you open.
Yunho reached down between your legs and spanked his long fingers down against your pulsating cunt. The impact making you scream. He continued to spank you over and over, your slick mixed with his cum splashing all over his hand and your thighs each time he brought his palm down against you.
âSince you wonât be a good girl and open up for Dr. Choi, you deserve some spankings.â Yunho growled into your hear while San continued to fuck your tight hole with the tip of his cock. Even with shallow strokes and penetration, it still felt sublime. Heat radiated up your body, igniting a fire inside you didnât know existed. You were going to cum. Again. This time with a cock in your ass and a hand spanking your cunt. You felt disgusting, used, dirty. And more alive than ever. You wanted to dedicate yourself to feeling this type of pleasure from now on. Never settling for anything less. Addicted to it. You wanted to be used by them. Experimented on. Manipulated. You wanted them to train your ass so you could eventually take San completely. Maybe both of them at the same time.
San angled his hips upward, hitting a spot inside of you just as Yunho slapped down against your clit that made you slip into the most intense orgasm youâve ever had. Your cunt gushed all over San, orgasm splashing everywhere as Yunho continued to slap your gushing pussy while you came, singing praises to you in your ear.
Watching you squirt with his dick in your tight asshole, his friendâs fingers slapping down on your cum-dripping cunt, pushed San to his release. Filling your second hole with cum with a beautiful strangled moan.
He pulled out of you, wincing from the stimulation. His load dropped out of you, mixing together with the remainder of Yunho. The room fell silent, the only sound being the gasps from all 3 of you as you all tried to regulate your breathing. Dr. Jeong grabbed a towel from the cabinet and handed it to you gently to clean yourself up while both of them put their clothing back on, resetting.
âI think this exam showed impressive results.â Dr. Choi returned back to his professional self as he tossed his lab coat back on. Dr. Jeong nodded in agreement but sent a shocking wave of confusion through you, then annoyance.
âYou guys can stop pretending like you didnât just fuck me. I wonât go to the police.â You told them, scoffing at the idea.
âPardon?â Dr. Jeong looked at you a bit confused, eyebrow raised at your sentence.
âYou may have fucked me dumb but Iâm not stupid. It was hot. Maybe a bit scary at first but I really enjoyed it.â
âWeâre glad you enjoyed the process.â Dr. Choi said. âBut everything that happened today was all part of the research process.â
âCalling me a âgood whoreâ was part of the process? Cumming inside of me?â Your voice got higher in octave as you tried to fight against the information that were telling you.
âLots of people respond well to talking during sexual encounters. And since we wanted your full and non-restricted response, we wanted to commit to the job.â
You sat in shock, truly unable to tell if they were telling the truth, that it was all part of the exam, or if they really plotted to fuck you. Maybe it was the pills or the multiple orgasms gifted to you by two handsome doctors, but you eventually came to the conclusion that you didnât care. So, regardless of the truth, you decided to play along.
âSo, same time next week?â You asked, and both of them smirked. Ready to schedule your next appointment. âIâll need a refill on my prescription too.â
ââââââ-
Thank you to everyone who enjoyed part 1! I really hope you enjoyed this last part just as much :)
â something takes a part of me, you and i were meant to be.
FREAK ON A LEASH [bassist!yeosang x cheerleader!reader]
â college au, exes to fwb to lovers, regina george x rodrick heffley type shi. intended to be read as a standalone, but is tied to dare. wc 23.2k
â yeosang was the starting running back, until he gave up the cowhide leather in his palm for an instrument strapped across his back. you wanted nothing to do with him after he quit football and joined a band, he went from a star to a loser. but still, after everything, no one compares. no one could ever be him.
â smut minors dni | sub-leaning switch!yeosang, dom-leaning switch!reader, toxic behavior, reader is a warning herself. pinv, mommy kink, creampie, oral (both), facesitting, hate sex/jealousy sex, humiliation, dry humping a hand?
â playlist: freak on a leash â korn / operate â peaches / crazy bitch â buckcherry / glamorous â fergie / feiticeira â deftones
â thank u beamie duckie for fixing my banner so i didn't rip out my hair. i love u @sungbeam
Two hands at twelve on a Sunday night. Six weeks.
Itâs been six weeks since heâs seen you. Six weeks since heâs felt your manicured nails on his skin, tasted your lip gloss, smelled your designer perfume layered over the lotion heâs massaged into your aching muscles a thousand times. Itâs been six weeks since youâve stood in the doorway of his apartment; he canât remember the last time you asked to come inside and waited to hear him say yes.Â
Six weeks ago you wouldâve walked in on your own.Â
âHi,â you mumble, shy. Your shoulders are set, your back straight, your eyes pointed but your glossy, bottom lip is tucked between your teeth. Yeosangâs brows furrow, the pulse point in his neck throbbing, he hopes you canât hear it like he can, a steady rhythm of bass pounding in his eardrums.
âHi,â he mutters, confused, starstruck, and relieved all at once.Â
âCan I come in?â you ask, eyes sliding behind him, peering into his apartment. Baby pink sweatpants sit low on your hips, your white, strappy tank barely meeting the waistband, showing a sliver of your skin that makes Yeosangâs short nails curl into his front door.Â
He steps to the side, allowing you entrance as he mumbles, âSure.âÂ
Thereâs flip-flops on your feet, showing off your toes always lined with white, thin, silver rings clamped on the middles. A miniature pink purse sits on your shoulder, you let it fall down to hold it loosely between your fingers as you glance around, taking in the sight of his apartment that hasnât changed.Â
âI thought you wouldâve gotten rid of the football posters,â you say absentmindedly, as if itâs normal for you to be here, as if you didnât shatter his heart to shrapnel six weeks ago.Â
âI still like football,â Yeosang closes the door behind him, but he lingers, fingertips still touching the oak. âMy priorities are the only thing that changed.âÂ
âChanged,â you repeat, turning to face him, blowing annoyed amusement through your nose. âYou ruined your future, thatâs what you did.âÂ
Yeosang sighs. âIf thatâs what you believe.âÂ
âItâs what I know.â You throw a hand on your hip. âWhy havenât you texted me? You havenât reached out once.âÂ
Yeosang lets his bare shoulderblades touch the door, letting the cool wood seep into his skin as he counters, âYou broke up with me. What did you want me to say?â
You shrug, hands waving in the air on either side of you, purse swinging as you all but whisper, âSomething.â Thereâs an edge to your voice, one that makes his gut rumble, something deep and low. âYou could have said anything, Yeosang.âÂ
âYou made a choice,â Yeosang keeps his tone calm, soft. âI respected it.âÂ
Your top lifts in distaste, taking a step towards him. âGod forbid you actually disagree with me on something.â
âIsnât acceptance better?â Yeosangâs voice goes shallow, airy. He can smell you and itâs making his head fuzzy, his knees weak. He wonders how long itâll take to get the smell out this time.Â
âDefine better,â you take another step towards him, eyes flickering over his build. The shorts on his legs, hanging too low for company, the lack of a shirt on his upper half. You drink him in like you missed him.Â
âWhy are you here?â
âI need,â you start, full of confidence, but you cut yourself off. Standing just a foot away from him, Yeosangâs head is angled downward to see you, the first thing he notices is the shift in your breathing. Quicker, shallow breaths, you conjure as much certainty as you can to say, âI want you.âÂ
Yeosangâs brows raise, length opening an eye in his basketball shorts. You donât give him a chance to respond, running your fingers through your styled hair, voice pitched with impatience.Â
âNo one else gets it,â you mutter, stress bleeding through your words. âYouâre different. You get it, you get me.âÂ
âWhat do I get?â Yeosangâs whispering, he needs to know, even if heâs scared you might change your mind and push past him if he asks. Heâs terrified that giving in will alter his brain chemistry. âWhy me?â
âYeosang,â you say his name like it relays everything. He keeps your stare even if he wants to look away, like he was facing a bull, dressed in crimson and there was no way in hell heâd win, but something forces him to stand his ground. Maybe itâs because he knows you just as well as you know him.
âI know your priorities have changed,â your voice lowers, but you keep your eyes on him like you know his defense is already stripped. Like all you had to do was say the magic word and heâd be putty in your palms once more. âBut if thereâs any part of you that still wants me at all, I need a favor. I need⊠I need to⊠I want to fuck you.â
Yeosang can hear his own heartbeat. He can feel the sweat prickling his skin at the back of his neck, on his pecs, at the base of his spine. His eyes blow wide, swallowing down his shock, hesitance making him blink at you, lips parting.Â
You groan, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, covering your eyes. âPlease say something,â you mutter, âitâs humiliating enough that Iâm even here right now.â
âI,â Yeosang starts, but his voice cracks on the singular word. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head a little, âI donât understand.â
âWhat is there to understand?â Your arms stretch out on either side of you, bewildered that Yeosang didnât immediately respond yes, that he wasnât on his hands and knees begging for it. âWe had one good thing, Yeosang.âÂ
It hurts his chest, like your manicured hand pierced his skin, reached right for his heart and squeezed. You had plenty of good things, several good things, your relationship was damn near perfect before he quit football. Before he joined Jayâs band.Â
You take a step towards him and he can see the last six months flash before his eyes.
âYou donât miss me?â Your voice is softer now, dripping in a fake sweetness that makes his breathing manual, he can feel the heat of your body.Â
Low, almost a whisper, Yeosang says, âI do.â
Your lips curve at the corner, glossy, sparkling and edible. Like heâd given you the green light, your voice coated in candy, you ask, âCan I take care of you?â
Yeosangâs brows knit together ever so slightly, a sign of want, of need. All he can muster is a tiny, whimpered, âPlease.â
You donât kiss him.
You drop to your knees, eyes on his, staring up over your forehead. Slowly, your purse falls to the floor beside you, your fingers reach up to the waistband of his shorts. Yeosangâs brows are already tied together, back arched, hips bent toward you while his shoulders stay flush to the door.
âDo you want to cum in my mouth, or inside me?â
Yeosang sucks in a sharp breath, hollowing out his stomach, abdomen flexing. âWherever you want me to.â
Your smile is wide and true as you tug his shorts down to his thighs, his cock springing out, slapping against the skin between his veiny hipbones. Pupils dilating like you were starved, like Yeosang was your last meal, you licked your lips, muttering a curse under your breath.Â
Yeosangâs hips twitch toward you, âPlease.â
âDonât beg,â your eyes flicker upward again. âThe fact that youâre this hard when I havenât even touched you is pathetic.â
A small, tight moan slips from between his lips, cock jumping, face scrunched up in pleasure. Your soft, dainty hand finds the base of his length, sliding up over his tip, your palm rolling against his slit, spreading the slick thatâd already begun dribbling down the side. The sound he makes should be embarrassing, itâs deafening, laying over the silence of the room, loud and sharp and needy.Â
âQuiet.â The order isnât harsh, but itâs not fully confident, either. Your eyes flicker upward again like you needed to see if heâd listen, like itâd give you confirmation to continue. His lips fold between his teeth and your knees part further on the floor, other hand wrapping around his cock, the two holding him in full.Â
He fights his own instinct to rock his hips into your hands. His breathing is verbal, heavy, chest rising and lowering, muscles contracting as you squeeze, but donât move. You stay there for a second, testing him, his restraint, his controlâ he assumes he passes when you guide his tip toward your glossy lips, tongue poking out to lick over his slit, soft and flat and wet.Â
Your lips wrap around him and the dull thud of the back of his head hitting the door sounds through the room. Taking him into your mouth, hands falling to his hips, he groans as your tongue massages the underside of his length, sliding down until your nose meets the tuft of hair at his base.Â
âS-shit,â he grinds out, âsâgood.â
You hum around him, vibrating his cock, his hips twitch into your mouth. He glances downward, but you donât react, you start bobbing your head, working up a rhythm. His hands dig into the wood behind him, whines escaping from his lips one after another, pitched and loud and embarrassing, but he doesnât care.Â
Itâs been six weeks.Â
Gagging yourself on him, he whimpers, thighs shaking from how hard heâs trying to keep himself composed. You can feel the way heâs climbing, reaching out for euphoria, silently begging you to let him paint your throat white, you bring him as close as you can to his peak before youâre pushing off him with a pop.Â
His hips follow, a muddled curse rolling off his tongue, two fists banging against the door behind him. You huff a laugh, licking your lips that curve into a sly grin, âThat quick?â
His chest is heaving, golden skin splotched with shapes of pink, his face angled and sharp with denial. âIâ, I donâtââ
âGo. On the couch.â You donât move from where youâre planted on the hardwood, ass on your calves, staring up at him. He listens, still trying to catch his breath, pulling his shorts down to his ankles before he sits back on the deep brown couch, waiting for you.Â
Standing before him now, you donât waste any time pulling your sweatpants down, leaving the pink, lacy panties with a bow at the center of the waistband on your hips. Yeosangâs eyes flock to it like a moth to a flame, his favorite. So cute, so dainty, so you, absentmindedly he almost reaches for his cock that leaks onto his abdomen.Â
âLast longer,â your voice is firm, direct. âYou donât cum until I do. Okay?âÂ
His nod is eager, âY-yes.â
You kick your sweats and your panties off before you swing a leg over his lap, a manicured hand finding the base of his length again. Yeosang hisses out a curse, you lick your lips, watching him react. Tummy flexing, muscles still just as defined as they were six weeks ago, you note that heâs still going to the gym. Nothingâs changed except his hair color, what was once a pretty blonde was now a neon green, ends tipped with black, a foul pair of hues. You look at his pretty face instead, his pecs that sit flexed, his cute, pink nipples that pebbled in the open air of his living room.Â
You lift yourself to line him up with your core, bracing yourself for the stretch, itâs been over a month since youâve sat on his length and fuck you werenât prepped even a little. Sliding his tip through your folds, wetness coating him, dripping down the width of him, you take your time guiding him inside you, letting yourself feel every inch, every vein, each twitch of his cock that pulsed as you sank down.Â
Yeosangâs head tips back, groaning, hands finding your hips. âOh my god.â
You moan as your thighs meet his, fully seated, mounted onto him like he was your throne. Clenching around him, breath picking up, your heart pounds against your ribs at how good he feels inside you. You missed this, you missed him, the way he feels, the sounds he makes, how easy and compliant he is, always.Â
His fingers squeeze, âT-tight, baby. So tightâ shit.â
Yeosang feels like he could bust at any second. Six weeks without sex, without you, it was blowing his fucking mind and you havenât even moved yet. It feels so good, itâs so wrong, you arenât together, he doesnât even know who else youâve been with. He doesnât care; he still loves you. The way you look at him, the way your skin feels on his, the way you can read every single one of his expressions, he doesnât have to say a word. He loves how you take care of him. He loves how easy it is for you to make him cum.Â
He missed your smell. He missed your smile. He missed the way you order him around and the way his body responds without his brain.Â
âGonna move,â you whisper. âTake it.â
You start rocking your hips and Yeosangâs head snaps forward again, eyes wide, jaw slack. Itâs so good, you feel so fucking good, clenching around him like he was nothing but a toy. He watches your chest bounce beneath your tank, no bra, your nipples poking through the thin, useless fabric.Â
His hands follow his thoughts, pushing the hem over the peak of your breasts, cupping them in his palms, thumbs running over your peaked nipples. So fucking pretty, his mouth waters, he needsâ
âGo ahead,â you sigh, moving your hair away from your face, over your shoulders.Â
He leans forward, lips wrapping around your nipple, his hand massaging the other, brows knitted together like heâd died and gone to heaven. Satisfied wasnât the word, pure bliss, his mouth occupied, your hips moving in a dirty grind against his cock, beautiful, pitched noises leaving your lips, music to his ears.Â
He feels alive again, itâs so easy to ignore that this is wrong. He shouldnât be doing this. The ramifications of his actions will be too heavy to bear, a weight on his shoulders for the weeks to come, he doesnât care, not when your moans grow louder, head tipping back, core clenching around him with every other drag of your hips, chasing an orgasm heâd never deny you.Â
Heâd never deny you anything.Â
Your hands find his hair, pulling his head backward, you stare into him, his eyes glossed over, his swollen, pink lips parted, so beautiful you want to lean down and kiss him. You donât, though, it feels too intimate, like itâd send the wrong message, like you wanted him for something more than his cock poking at your cervix.Â
âPlease,â he mumbles, voice lagged and heavy with arousal, âneed to feel you cum around me, wantâ need to fill you up.â
You moan a curse, lifting your hips, dropping them down against his cock harshly, picking up your pace to chase the pressure thatâs steadily building in your gut. So pretty, so beautiful, so yours, you mumble a question you donât register asking, âHave you fucked anyone else?â
Heâs quick to answer, âNo.â
Youâre glad you asked. You laugh a little, a small, tiny breath of amusement, âOf course not.â
He grunts when you clench around him, like it gets you off knowing that in the six weeks youâve been apart he hasnât even looked at anyone else. Heâs spent the last six weeks in class, in Jayâs garage, or here, on his couch with his bass on his lap, playing the same song over and over. Practicing, thinking, debating on whether or not he made a mistakeâ he never thought quitting football would make him lose you, too.Â
But here you were, back in his apartment, wrapped around him like no time had passed, as if you never ended things with him in the first place, like you didnât ghost him for six weeks. Itâs not like he reached out, either, you made it clear that if he wasnât on the team, you had no business being together. Who was Yeosang to argue with you about what you wanted?
The captain of the cheerleading team and a running back, you liked him in uniform, with shoulder pads and cleats and his fingers wrapped around brown leather. You liked it when he was practicing on the field and the cheerleading team was in the corner, rehearsing, doing stunts on the turf. You liked it when you were both sweaty and high off adrenaline and youâd meet eyes across the green, thinking about what came later. You liked it when he won games, when you could run over and jump in his arms and kiss him stupid, then fuck him in congratulation afterward.
You built a routine together, one that wasnât officialâbecause that seemed to be the norm on this campus, at this ageâand a routine built off instability rarely had a happy ending. Part of Yeosang saw it as a ticking time-bomb, one that met its inevitable end.Â
Skin wet like you were dripping in condensation, your body moved against Yeosangâs like you were built for him. Like no one else in the world could make you feel this good, he could hear it in how you sang for him, how reactive you were to his touch, to him. You were the one that missed him, thatâs the only explanation for you showing up unannounced, mere days after he heard the rumours about you and Jaemin.Â
Now youâre here. And he let you in so easily.
âYâfeel so good,â you moan, fingers curling into his shoulders. His hands find your hips again, guiding you on his length at the pace that always made you cum quick, his hips angled to curve into the spot at the front of your walls. âYeosang!â You clench around him again and he bites down a curse. âIâm close.â
His brows knitted together, jaw slack, middle flexing over and over, he focuses on angling himself at that same spot, moving you at the same pace, a fixed rhythm, using your sounds as motivation to keep himself anchored.Â
You reach down between your bodies, fingers circling your clit and heâs thinking of anything he can to stop himself from coming. A whimper escapes him, pitched and needy and pathetic, he knows it is. You gasp before clenching around him, hard, your body trembling, legs shaking on either side of his body, Yeosang smiles.Â
âYes, cumming fâme,â he sounds ragged, rambling out of arousal. âSo pretty, so sexy, missed you sâmuch. Let me fill you up, please? Please let me.â
Your hips pick up in pace on their own, it drives him crazy. Heâs moaning, fingertips pressing into your hips, his mouth unmoving because his orgasm is so close he can taste it.Â
âCum for me,â you soothe, voice encouraging and full of praise. âMade me feel so good, you deserve it. Wanna feel you, Yeo.â
Itâs enough to push him over, stuttering a groan as he empties himself inside you, hips bucking up into yours as he feels every second of release. Six weeks without sex is a long time.Â
You stay there for a moment, hands warm on his skin, controlling your breathing until your heart rate slows into something regulated. Yeosang keeps his eyes on you, watching, feeling, etching the memory into his mind because he doesnât know if itâll happen again. He doesnât know how long heâll go without you this time. Maybe forever.Â
Then youâre lifting yourself off him, standing on his rug before the couch, fixing your white tank, reaching for your panties and your sweatpants. He waits for you to speak.Â
Your lips flatten as you tug your clothes up to your hips, âCan I use your bathroom before I go?â
A slow nod from Yeosang, a small mumble of of course.Â
He fixes his clothes, pulls his briefs and his shorts back over his hips, then leans back into the couch, letting himself relax into the plush. Letting himself feel. It feels like his birthday to have you in his apartment â but to sleep with him? Because you missed him? Thereâs a rush of giddiness inside him, one blooming from his chest to the tips of his fingers, you missed him as much as he missed you.Â
His heart beats to the sound of your flip flops smacking through his apartment, he opens his eyes to you grabbing your tiny little pink purse from the floor, reaching inside for your lip gloss.Â
He feels like he should say something. Ask something. Heâs scared youâll leave without a word if he doesnât.Â
âHeyââ
âLook,â you cut him off, screwing the cap back onto your gloss, shoving it in your miniature purse. âIâm sorry I came over unannounced, it wonât happen again. I just⊠I needed that.â
âIt can happen again.â He doesnât want it to be over. âI get it.â
You sigh, a hand on your hip, âIt shouldnât happen again. We arenât ever going to be anything, Yeosang.â
âThen why come back?â He sits forward a little. âWhy fuck me? And not Jaemin?â
Your eyes widen like he caught you red-handed. You stand a little straighter as you swing your purse over your shoulder, âLeave Jaem out of this.â
âOkay,â Yeosang nods, shrugging, internally despising that you just called him Jaem. âI will. Whatever makes you happy.â
Your eyes find the floor, shoulders slouching ever so slightly. âI have to go,â you mumble, not meeting his eye. âI have practice early tomorrow.â
He watches, he hears you as you leave, as your flip flops smack down the hallway outside of his apartment. He wishes he had the balls to ask you to stay. He looses a breath he didnât know he was holding, running a hand through his sweaty hair, cursing under his breath when he looks at his fingers and sees green.Â
He smacks his teeth together, the box the neon-green dye came in said it wouldnât bleed. Disappointed in the hair dye, disappointed in you, disappointed in himself, he knows in his soul he shouldnât have fucked you. It restarted all the progress heâs made the past six weeks, coming to terms with the fact that you and him were over, that he had a new life now. Heâs different now.Â
He terminated his contract and bleached his head. He dyed it green, texted Jay, asked if he still had the spot open in his band, to which Jay responded hell yeah and Yeosang hauled his ass to his garage with his bass strapped over his back.Â
In six weeks, heâs played two shows. Everything was just starting to feel right.
Thereâs fear stemming at the base of his spine, that thirty minutes of his life, thirty minutes of sharing saliva and being inside of you would destroy all the work heâs put in. Everything heâs already changed. Everything he already loves.Â
Because in the back of his mind, at the bottom of his heart, he knows he loves you more than all of it.Â
He doesnât see you again for another three weeks.Â
You made good on your promise, not swinging by his apartment again. It took days to get the smell of you out of his living room, again. He still smells the couch cushions daily just in case. Maybe a part of him wishes it lingered.Â
He doesnât reach out, though. He doesnât text. He doesnât DM. He doesnât go anywhere near the places you frequent on campus. If you miss him, youâd let him know. Youâd show him. Somehow.
Yeosang thinks maybe this is your way of saying it, in the Arts Building, nowhere near the lecture hall majority of your classes are in. Did you change your schedule? Forced into taking another elective for the sake of credits? Thereâs no reason for you to be walking towards him in a denim skirt so small he can almost see the lacy pair of panties beneath it.Â
Your face is pointed like you had an agenda. All Yeosang can do is sit there, in the common space, on the same cushioned chair he always sat in, sketch pad on his lap, waiting for you to approach him, to speak.Â
But you donât.Â
You walk past him, heeled feet somehow clinking against the carpet-covered floor. Your head doesnât move but your eyes stay on him until heâs in your peripherals, your chin up, shoulders squared, back straight, Yeosang canât take his eyes off you. Denim kissing the crease where your ass meets your thighs, the shadow above your waistband showing the indent of your spine, the muscles in your calves flexing with each step, he swings his legs around to the front of the chair just so he can watch you leave.
Moth to a flame.Â
He curses himself for how easily he gives in to you. You let him see you because you wanted him to see you, you wanted yourself on his mind, you wanted him to go home and sit on his bed with a fist wrapped around his length, recalling the last memory of it being your mouth, instead.Â
He shoves his sketchbook into his bag, throws it over his shoulder, and hauls himself outside. Screw his last class, heâd look at the notes online, maybe. He doesnât really care what heâs about to miss. He needs to grow a backbone, needs to strengthen his mind so you canât penetrate his mental walls so effortlessly. Already heâs stirring beneath his cargos, he needs to go somewhere, he needs to do something, he refuses to go back to his apartment and lose time thinking about you.Â
Impulse brings him outside of campus. Hours walking through busy streets of the city, listening to music and chatter from restaurants, the traffic rushing between them, he finds comfort in the sunshine on his skin, making his head feel hot, his cheeks feel pink.Â
Impulse brings him to a piercing shop. Brow quirked, lips pursed, there isnât much thought in his head as impulse pushes his legs inside.Â
By ten heâs at home again, throwing his bag on the couch, turning on the speaker in the corner of the room just to fill the silence while he lights a joint. In the kitchen, he makes himself dinner, the thought occurs that he was out for so long and didnât eatâ routine and discipline embedded in his veins makes him pull out meal-prepped food from his fridge.
Half a joint burned to ash and a meal digested, heâs only half-satisfied, he wonders when the practices that years of playing football have embedded in him will fade. If heâll ever just be Yeosang again, instead of an ex-running-back, or the guy who dropped football for a bass guitar.Â
He debates checking his phone, calling Jongho, calling Aven, someone to occupy his fucking time, to ease his thoughts, so his fuzzy mind doesnât hyperfixate on everything being different. So he can forget that he saw you today.Â
Three knocks sound at his door, loud, angry noises that make him jump where he stood beside the counter. He runs to the front door, swinging it open, about to open his mouth when you barrel past him into his living room like a fucking fly buzzing past his ear.Â
âYou looked at me today.â
Youâre angry. Eyes pointed, chest puffed out, brows chiseled and furrowed, Yeosang looks behind him like maybe he isnât on the receiving end of this. Seeing nothing but an empty hallway, he closes the door behind him, and turns to you again.Â
âOkay?â He asks, says, itâs genuine. What answer is he supposed to have?
Youâre in a sports bra and shorts that cling to your body. They reach high, over your belly button, but the hem squeezes right at the tips of your thighs, painted onto your skin. Yeosangâs breath turns manual as he takes in every detail, how your outfit doesnât leave anything to the imagination, not that itâs anything he hasnât seen before.
âDonât do that,â you huff, hands on your hips, a wristlet hanging from your silver-covered forearm. Three bracelets, bangles, sparkly, they hang off your wrist, still dancing together, sounding like wind chimes on a summer day.Â
âOkay,â Yeosangâs brows furrow ever so slightly. âI wonât.â
âGod, you piss me off,â you start pacing, hands on your forehead, walking back and forth in his entryway, if he could even call it that. If you open his front door, youâre already inside of his living room. âYou do understand that I want nothing to do with you, right? That weâre not together?â
Yeosang nods, slowly, brows still furrowed like there are a million points heâs missing. âIâm very aware.â
âThen donât look at me like that!â You finally stop in the middle of the room, voice loud, accompanied by the wind chimes on your wrist and the music coming from Yeosangâs speaker. âDonât look at me like you still have some sort of feelings for me. Especially in public, Yeosang, I donât need anyone asking me questions about you.â
His arms cross over his chest, once again dumbfounded, unsure of how to reply.Â
Your arms fall to your sides, eyes slimming. âWhatâs in your ears?â
His head cocks to the side, fingers coming up to touch his ears, suddenly reminded when it stings that he filled them with metal today. Simply, he responds, âEarrings.â
Then youâre marching up to him, manicured hands in his hair, pushing it off his face. Youâre so pretty, skin soft, eyelashes long, coated in black. Sunkissed, like youâd just come from an outdoor practice, a little flushed with exertion, as if it wasnât just after eleven. Youâre talking, he canât hear you, lost in your features, wondering how itâs possible for someone to exist this beautifully.
âYeosang,â you urge, itâs a warning, stealing his attention. His brows raise in question. âThe green hair was enough. What else are you gonna do to ruin yourself?â
âAre you my mother or something?â It slips out of his mouth, instinctive, he smacks his lips together. He blames the weed, the lingering smell of sweat on your skin, your face so close to his, his head is fuzzy. He short-circuited.
Your eyes darken, thinning, your hands fall to your sides. âWhat did you just say?â
âNothing,â he shakes his head. âI wanted earrings, so I got them.â
âDonât change the subject,â you bite. âWhat did you just say to me? Say it again.â
He swallows, eyes meeting the floor. Voice quiet, under his breath, he answers, âI asked if youâre my mother.â
You laugh, a short, chopped sound of feigned amusement, it makes goosebumps rise on his arms.
âDid you finally learn how to fight back?â Your arms cross, pushing up your chest in your sports bra, Yeosang averts his eyes elsewhere. âTo me, of all people. The one person you shouldnât argue with.â
His eyes flicker upward, meeting your irritated stare. âWhy not? We arenât together, are we?â
From annoyed to impressed to angry, Yeosang watches your face morph into each emotion, a dance of your eyebrows and a scrunch of your lips. He canât believe he said it, and neither can you.Â
âNo,â your voice lowers, quieter now. âBut if there was any chance of us fucking again, itâs gone.â
Yeosangâs eyes flicker down to your chest then, and he canât find it in himself to feel guilty for it. If he doesnât know when heâs going to see it again, then he might as well etch it to memory now.
âYou know,â you start, eyes twinkling with mischief, a snag in your smile. âItâs funny you used that as an insult, of all things. Am I your mother.âÂ
Yeosang doesnât respond, but his chest feels heavy. Like he already knows where this is headed.
You take a step forward, close enough that Yeosang can smell the lingering sweat on your skin. He can see the remnants, too, a gloss on the highest point of your cheekbones, over your brows. It melts into your perfect skin, skin you care for daily, every morning, every night. Heâs watched you complete your routine enough times to know it was time-consuming and expensive; he knows each and every step, the ingredients in each product, how much they cost.Â
âThere was a time you used to call me something⊠similar,â you pop a brow, the snag in your grin widening to a smirk. âRemember?â Yeosang gives you a ghost of a nod, barely a twitch of his head. You cock your head, âRemind me, it seems to have slipped my mind. Weird.âÂ
Yeosangâs jaw clenches, embarrassment flaming in his cheeks. He can feel his Adamâs apple move as his throat bobs, like a lump of shame he canât pass. Quietly, almost under his breath, he mumbles the word. The reminder.
âWhat was that?â your voice is playful, a sing-song tone. Like youâre eating up every fucking second of this. âSay it louder. With your chest, Yeosang.â
His eyes find the floor, his pale, bare feet a contrast to the hardwood. He says it quicker, louder, a one-syllable confession like he despised the curve of his lips as he said it, âMommy.â
You smack your teeth, and your grin spreads from ear to ear. âRight, thatâs it, canât believe I forgot!â
Yeosang glares from under his brows, despising the rush of adrenaline he knows is coursing through you at the title on his tongue. A word he used to say proudly, more often than he shouldâve, a word that used to push you past the finish line if he said it coated in a desperate whine. Right now, all itâs doing is feeding your already-huge ego.
âAre you finished?â Yeosang asks, and the question is honest. Without remnants of a snide tone, no snarky attitude, heâs over the humiliation ritual. If you were just going to stand here and tease him, you could leave. Even if every fiber of his being wants you to stay.
You shake your head before answering a smooth, âNo.â Shifting your weight onto one leg, you ask again, âDo you remember when you used to call me that?â
Yeosang pops a brow, unsure of the correct answer. âWhen I was fucking you?â
You blow amusement through your nose. âYou never fucked me, I fucked you.â
And maybe itâs the weed, maybe itâs instinct, maybe itâs the half of him thatâs still in love with you. Some part of him stands a little straighter and responds, âSo do it again.â
Your face scrunches for half a millisecond. Taking a half-step back, you ask, âWhat?â
âDo it again,â he says with his chest this time, taking a half-step forward, closing the distance again. He searches for the reason inside himself and he comes up with nothing. You came here to tell him to stop looking at you, even if you put yourself in his line of sight. You insulted him, his hair, his earrings, his appearance. You made fun of him for what he used to call you at his most vulnerable moments with your chest puffed, chin jutted upward, making you seem six feet tall.Â
Is wanting you some kind of incurable fucking disease? Should he go to the goddamn doctor?
âRemind me why I used to call you that,â he leans down, his voice low, smooth. âGive me a reason to do it again.â
Possibly for the first time ever, you seem speechless. Eyes wide like saucers, he can hear your breath catch, an accidental sound between a gasp or spit getting stuck in your throat. You stutter, âN-no, I told you last time was the last time.â
âThen whyâd you come here?â heâs too quick to ask, it spills out of him. âWhere were you? Working out? On a run, trying to get all this pent-up shit out, when you know the only thing that works is me?â
Your heels come together, back rigid. Your eyes dance around his face, even the shake of your head stutters, like you were desperately trying to control the instinct driving you. He feels like heâs vibrating, electricity threading from his thighs to his fingertips that linger millimeters beside them, body begging to touch you so he could share the lightning.
âAdmit it,â he whispers.
Your jaw clenches. âYou canât fucking bait me.â
âIâm not baiting you,â he quips. âI just know you.â
âFuck you,â you bite, baring your pearly, white teeth.
Yeosang grins. âWhat do you think Iâm trying to do?â
You lunge for him. Not that thereâs much space to clear, you nearly jump onto him, into him, his arms catching you underneath your thighs swiftly, holding you tight as your arms wrap around his neck. Your lips hit his and all he could taste was your anger, frustration, all pent up in your sickeningly perfect body, he canât believe heâs tasting you again. He canât believe heâs kissing you.Â
He walks you to his bedroom himself. You donât even process that youâre moving, he doesnât break the kiss, he could walk around his apartment without a singular misstep in pitch black darkness. Smooth, effortless, he only breaks the kiss to lay you down gently on his bed.
Still perfectly made from this morning, thank god, youâd have a fit if it wasnât. Another thing that's stuck. Meal-prep, hydration, shaving, his gym routine, making his bed⊠Yeosang is a man of practice.
âThis is what you wanted,â you growl as soon as your back hits his comforter. âYou wanted me here. On your bed.â
âYou wanted me,â he pops a brow, words easy. âYou came here for one reason, and one reason only.âÂ
Your jaw clenches, âTake my shorts off.â It sounds like your best attempt at coming off icy, but Yeosang hears the burnt edge of arousal, the impatience on your tongue. Your hips twitch against the bed, legs dangling in open air.Â
Yeosang doesnât listen. He watches you, taking his time with each sneaker, unlacing the bunny ears before throwing them to his floor. He barely waits to hear the sound of foam and rubber hitting the hardwood before his thumbs are tucking into your socks, sliding them down your smooth, strong ankles, taking his time rolling them off your feet. He doesnât care where they land on his floor, he hopes it takes time to find them later.Â
Your cheeks match your chest, both flushed and bleeding impatience, your upper half rising and lowering rapidly like you also couldnât believe this was happening. Again.Â
âYeosang,â you say when he takes a moment to press a knee into the mattress. âMy shorts. Now.âÂ
His palms find your knees for leverage as he leans down, eyes catching on the dampened spot on your shorts. A deepened, asymmetrical shape of teal, darker than your turquoise shorts, your matching sports bra. He swallows, mouth filling with saliva, he could feel his eyes fucking dilating and he knows you can see it, too. He tucks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, using might to pull them down your lower half. With the way they were painted onto your skin, the slight gleam of sweat still sparkling in his dim bedroom, the curves and muscle on your bodyâŠ
And you have nothing on underneath. He nearly moans.Â
âFuck,â he utters under his breath. âSo pretty.â
âShut up, Yeosang,â you huff. âYouâre taking too fucking long.â
He doesnât know how you switched places. Swift movement had Yeosang on his back, your knees pinned to the mattress on either side of his head, and faced with the most beautiful thing heâs ever seen, impulse has his forearms curling over your thighs, pulling you down onto his tongue.
Your pitched moan pierces his bedroom. You peel your sports bra over your chest once your hips start their rhythm on his tongue, fingers flying to your boobs, pinching your peaked nipples. He keeps his tongue poked out, eyelids fluttering, savoring the taste of your soaked folds that coat his tongue in candy.
He takes a moment to inhale, to bask in your scent; natural, mild, a little tang from sweat. Has he ever been this hungry in his life? Can he blame any of this on the weed anymore?
Your hips roll over his flexed tongue, head tipped backward, filling the air of his bedroom with a song of your pleasure, the bass-line the jingle of your bangles dancing down your wrist as your fingers grab for his hair. He canât hear the music coming from his living room anymore, each one of his senses enveloped by you, and heâd gladly die right here, right now, his last meal being you.
âYes,â you moan out, and the word is so full of sheer relief it makes Yeosang grip your thighs harder, makes him moan into your core. He focuses on licking over your clit, the rhythm only broken up by his lips swirling around the bundle of nerves, sucking without making it overwhelming, too much too quickly. A pace you love, the pressure he knows pushes you further down the line, Yeosangâs only goal is getting you over it.Â
You tilt your hips up, clit grazing the tip of his nose, and the way your abdomen flexes has his own hips bucking upward. An abrupt jerk of movement you feel, you know is happening, even if itâs behind you.
Eyes low-lidded, glazed over, you take a peek over your shoulder before asking, âYouâre getting off on this?â Yeosang canât answer with a mouth full of you. You try to laugh, but you suck in a sharp intake of air as his teeth ghost your clit. âYou want to be used. Does anyone know what a bitch you are? That you get off on just tasting me?â
Yeosang moans into your center, hips bucking again.
âIâm sure they donât.â Your eyebrows are tied together as you reach one arm behind you, palm landing on Yeosangâs abdomen for leverage, using the strength of him to give free movement to your hips. You grind yourself onto his mouth harder, faster, a quicker rhythm as you say, âDo they know about me? Or did you get rid of our history when you got rid of your own?â
His fingers sear your thighs, knuckles bone-white. You croak out a whine, âYouâd never be this pliant for anyone else. No one else can make you feel this way without even fucking touching you.â
Yeosang moans his agreement, tongue plunging into your entrance, he hopes itâs answer enough. Your head falls back, chest heaving, free hand squeezing your chest, âShit, Iâm close.â
Heâs never felt so motivated before. Nodding his head in rhythm with your hips bucking over his mouth, he keeps himself focused, brows furrowed and brain clear. When your moans grow in pitch, when your hips stutter, he keeps your pace fixed by his grip on your thighs. He keeps his tongue flexed, focused on rolling over your clit, using the same pressure, the same speed, never once faltering.
Then youâre crying out, hips seizing, body rolling, the muscles in your stomach clenching and unclenching; but never once do you say his name. Never once do you praise him for being the one to push you over the finish line, to bring you to orgasm.
Sitting back, nearly putting all your weight on his chest, itâs a comfort to him, even if you already look disappointed in the fact that you let this happen again. He can see your heavy breath, upper body expanding, caving in, lips parted and brows upturned ever so slightly. You take a moment to stare at him, to put the pieces together.
âGive me a shirt to go home in,â is all you say before climbing off of him like he was a fucking ride at an amusement park.
Yeosang sits up on his elbows, his own chest heaving, covered in slick from the bridge of his nose to his chin. He licks his lips, whatever skin his tongue can reach, just to savor the taste.
Youâre pulling your bra over your chest, grabbing your shorts from his hardwood floor. âAre they in the same drawer?â You ask, not even looking at him. Then youâre before his dresser, opening his tee shirt drawer, grabbing a random white one, pulling it over your head.
It swallows you, down to mid-thigh. Yeosangâs head feels fuzzy, he searches for words inside of himself, he canât find any. You turn to him, face tight, eyes blown, pupils dilated enough to swallow the color.
âThis was the last time, Yeosang,â you say, but you donât look like you mean it. âI mean it.â
All he can do is grin. He can smell the lie from where he lays.
âYou guys donât have to come.â
Aven and Jongho flanked him, his two best friends, the only two to understand Yeosang down to atoms and particles. Other than you, he supposed; but that was neither here nor there, and he knows you shouldnât be on his mind, anyway.
âI want to hear your new song,â Aven, on his right, walks in-step with him, while Jongho trails just a step behind.Â
The latter adds, âThis is the only day this week I have off from practice.â
Yeosangâs giddy. He was just being nice, saying they donât have to come, but the truth is that heâs elated that his friends are coming to his band practice with him. Really, he has plenty of things to be happy about.
Youâve shared his bed twice since the last time. The first time, youâd come over under the guise of giving him his shirt back, just to leave in a different one. The second time, you didnât have much of an excuse. Youâd walked inside his apartment like you owned it, then fucked Yeosang like you owned him. And, in a sense, he supposed you did.Â
The air feels warmer, the sun feels brighter, the grass looks as green as his hair. Pink and orange flowers blooming on trees wafted sweet-smelling air straight into his nose, as if a reminder to appreciate all that he came across, that everything was okay and will be okay. His life is going back to normal, even if heâd uprooted all of it.
âWe have three original songs for our gig at Eonian in two weeks,â Yeosang says, turning the corner that Jayâs house sat on, an older two-story home on the corner, just outside of campus. An easy walk from his apartment, Avenâs apartment, Jonghoâs apartment. âThe rest are covers.â
Yeosang can hear Jisung shredding, Jongseob on the drums, even from around the corner. Jayâs voice becomes clearer the closer they get, a rough, heavy tone; perfect for the punk genre of music they make, perform.
The garage door was wide open, the inside refurbished into a make-shift studio. Not really. It was the same worn-down garage that came with the home, posters on the walls, the same shelves sitting at the far corner holding mechanic supplies and tools of the sort. Jongseobâs drum set sat at the center of the room, mic stands and amps scattered around the space, Jayâs garage was a cookie-cutter neighborhoodâs worst nightmare.
The music died out when the three men caught Yeosangâs head of green hair rounding the corner. Shouts of about damn time, finally, and get in here all met his ears at once, making him flinch.Â
âIâm sorry!â Yeosang threw his arms up in defense, then threw a thumb pointing behind him. âI had to stop and get these two.â
Jisungâs cheeks went pink at the sight of Aven. âOhâ oh. Hi, guys.â
Yeosang rolled his eyes, pulling on the strap of the nylon guitar bag to get it over his head. Jisung wore a baseball cap on his head, the hood of his zip-up laid on top, his cheeks and white smile the only things visible in the shadows of his hood. Fender strapped around his front, his fingers holding the neck, his body language morphed to something smaller. Heâs always had a crush on Aven, and Avenâs always allowed him to.
âHi, Hanji,â her head tilted, lashes fluttering.
âHey,â Jongho smacked her arm. A warning.
Yeosang snorted. He pulled his bass from the bag, slinging the strap over his head, and played a few chords just to check the tuning as he made his way toward his spot, just beside Jay, opposite of Jisung.
Jay, lead guitarist and lead singer, took a step forward as Yeosang plugged the chord of the amp into his bass. âYouâre happy today.â
Short, cropped hair, midnight-colored and gelled into spikes, his outfit was everything punk. Yeosang lifted a brow, âYeah? Itâs nice out.â
âItâs nice out everyday,â Jay slims his eyes and Yeosang feels his stomach tumble. Fuck Jay for knowing him so well already. âWhatâs new?â
âYou have that freshly-fucked look about you,â Jongseob gleams from behind his drumset. Sitting centered behind the toms, cymbals surrounding him, he twirls a stick in one hand, his blonde hair tied up and braided into an upstyle that made him look feminine. The youngest, a freshman, but he was the fan favorite.
Yeosangâs laugh is nervous, he canât help it. âWhat? No.â
Everyoneâs face falls as they land on Yeosang. From Jongseob, who looked somewhat surprised, to Jongho standing just over the lifted line of the garage entrance, silence had fallen over the open space like a weighted blanket.
Jongho was the one to interject, âYouâre lying and nervous.â
âHoly shit,â Aven mumbles under her breath, eyes sparkling with discovery. âItâs her.â
âNo,â Jisung stands a little straighter, eyes going wide. âYeosang, no.â
Yeosangâs heart is in his asshole. He starts with a rebuttal, shaking his head rapidly, âNo itâs not, no itâs not. I donât know what you guys are talking about.â
âDo you not remember what state you were in when you joined the band?â Jay asks, face angled in disappointment. âYouâre like a fucking girl, going back to a shitty ex. Iâve been the shitty ex that girls have gone back to, Yeo, and it doesnât fuckinâ end well.â
âOkay, well, you suck,â Yeosangâs lips form a line. âWeâre seeing each other again, big deal.â
He knew you were not seeing each other again. He knew that it wasnât anything more than sex.
Yeosang catches Aven throwing a hand over her mouth from the corner of the garage, he sees Jongho shaking his head slowly. But itâs Jongseob who asks, âI thought she was fucking Jaemin now?â
âJaemin doesnât fuck her like I do.â Yeosang quips, catching himself smiling, giddy as hell. But his face falls immediately when he takes in the five pairs of eyes on him, all staring with heavy disappointment. Clear distaste.Â
âHas she stayed over?â Jongho asks, arms crossed over his chest. Long shorts, a black tee tucked in, hair styled over his forehead, he wore the silent accusation in the thin line of his lips. Yeosang swallows. Shaking his head, he tries not to let the shame show in his eyes. Jongho smacks his teeth, âI thought so.â
Yeosang can feel the heat on his cheeks. âItâs not a big dealââ
âShe hurt you,â Aven continues, âbecause you pursued your passion. Do you really want to be with someone like that? Who wants to be with you for looks, the image it portrays, instead of liking you for you?â
Yeosang can feel the frustration bubbling up inside him, overflowing before he has the chance to close the lid. âAre you in any place to give me shit? Youâve been fucking the same guy for four months, and he wonât evenââ
Jongho cuts him clean off, âDo not finish that sentence.â
Yeosang didnât even realize that he stepped forward, that his chest was heaving. For years theyâve bickered like siblings, saying the truth even when it hurts. Yeosang nods at Jongho, taking a steadying pause, silently thanking him for interrupting before he said something heâd regret. Wooyoung was the touchiest subject of them all for Aven, four months of back-and-forth, a relationship hidden in the shadows. He supposed he couldnât give her shit, anymore, either.
âWe just care about you,â Jay admits from beside him, the center of the makeshift-garage-stage. âAnd we donât want to see you hurt again.â
Yeosangâs jaw ticks. âI know what Iâm doing.â
He can feel the phantom stretch of his nose growing an inch longer. The lie burns. He has no idea what the fuck heâs doing.
Yeosang hears his door open, then close. He doesnât even look, he knows itâs you, no one else would be barging into his apartment after the sun goes down, itâs the entire reason he left his front door open.Â
Tuning his bass on the couch, heâs sitting hunched over it, eyes on the heads, thumb on a string. He hears you come closer, stopping on the other side of his coffee table, heâs willing to bet a thousand dollars you have your hands on your hips, weight beared on one side of your body.
When he looks up, he makes a mental note that he owes himself a thousand dollars. Standing in his hoodie, it comes down to mid-thigh, swallowing the shorts he wasnât completely sure you were wearing. He blinks, youâre staring. Hard.Â
âWhat, you donât care that Iâm here?â You finally bark out, arms crossing over your chest. âI could have been, like, a murderer or something.â
âI knew it was you,â Yeosang answers, then brings his attention back to the instrument on his lap, playing a chord. His top lip lifts, he tweaks the head. âI know your footsteps.â
Thereâs a pause before you kick your shoes off, walking towards his kitchen. He eyes your flip flops sprawled across the rug beneath his coffee table, making yourself at home, when this wasnât your home. At one time youâd treated his apartment just like this, walking in unannounced, leaving your shit wherever because you could, because you shared just as much of Yeosangâs space as he did.
He looks over his shoulder, watching your head of hair bop around his kitchen, silently. After a moment, you hold up a laptop charger and turn to him. âWhoâs charger is this? Itâs not your laptop charger.â
His lips flatten, a sigh threatening to escape. âItâs Avenâs, she was here earlier with Jongho, studying.â
Your brows raise a millimeter. âAvenâs,â you repeat. âThey were here studying.â
âHere we go,â he says under his breath.Â
You cross the kitchen, back into his living room, eyebrows tied together as you make your stand beside the couch. âSheâs here often, isnât she?â
âYes,â Yeosang says, voice flat. âJust like she always has.â
Your eye twitches. âAnd she just leaves things here, often?â
âNo, she has a lot going on right now.â
Your face blows into surprise, disgust. âOh, and now youâre making excuses for her.â
âSheâs literally dating Mingi,â Yeosang argues, hating the taste of the lie on his tongue. âWhy is this a big deal?â
âItâs not,â you shrug, feigning nonchalance. You walk back to the kitchen, putting the laptop charger back where you found it, white chord glowing atop the charcoal granite. You used a little more force in dropping it than necessary. You keep your voice steady as you say, âJaemin asked me to go get drinks tomorrow after his game.â
He can hear the control youâre reaching for as the words leave your lips. He asks, âYeah? You going?â
He wasnât sure what you were doing in his kitchen now. He plays another chord, and it sounds smooth. âI think so,â you respond. âProbably.â
Yeosang doesnât know what kind of strength he has in his soul that made him respond, âGood, you should go.â
Thereâs a pause, he doesnât hear your bare feet moving across the tiled floor of his kitchen. His fingers pick at the strings, strumming a small, melodic, funky rhythm. Then he hears your feet slapping against wood as you trudge into the living room, beside his couch again, face twisted up in confusion. âYou donât care if I get drinks with Jaemin?â
âWhy should I?â Yeosang asks. You wouldnât be telling him if you were actually going, you wouldnât be telling him if Jaemin had actually asked you, but his heart is below the hem of his shorts, anyway. âYouâre not my girlfriend, are you?â
âNo,â you answer simply, happily, almost. Yeosang plays another beat, another strum of chords, his finger catching the wrong strong, the entire melody clashing. He didnât realize his fingers had started shaking. You grin, âI knew it.â
Yeosangâs head snaps to the side, âKnew what?â
All five of Yeosangâs fingers point toward the kitchen, âYou just flipped shit over a laptop charger.â
âBecause itâs hers!â You argue, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. âYou have a girl over here every other day, leaving her shit here, her hair-ties, her charger. Whatâs next, her clothes? Tampons in your bathroom?â
âItâs Aven,â Yeosang reiterates, like the mention of her name was enough explanation. âSheâs been my best friend for years, you know this.â You blink at him, and his lips curve in a grin. âYouâre jealous.â
âWhy the fuck would I be jealous?â you spit out, arms uncurling from where they sat twisted over your chest. âIâm the one thatâs fucking you.â
Yeosang canât help but laugh. Head tipping back, bass and body slumping into the couch cushions, his laugh is genuine, straight from his belly. âYouââ he tries to get out, head turning to the side, laughter still barreling out of him. âYou tried to make me jealous with Jaemin, the fucking kicker.â
Your body feels hot. Youâre positive your face is flushed, arms crossing right back over your chest again, you could stomp your fucking foot in irritation. âYouâre so fucking aggravating, Yeosang.â
âYet youâre here,â he responds, his laughter dying down to a breathy giggle. âLook at where youâre standing.â
Your jaw locks, teeth grinding, body ignited, growing hotter by the second. Just his stare, chocolate eyes, long lashes, knowing they were fixed on you made you feel two feet tall. You donât answer, not as he pulls his bass off his body, setting it down beside him on the floor, the neck leaning against the couch. You can hear your heartbeat, feel the heat on your skin, sweat prickling beneath your hoodie. His hoodie.
âWeâre not dating,â you finally announce. âWe arenât exclusive.â
âI know,â he nods once. âWhich means youâre free to go do whatever with the kicker.â
You hate the way he mocks him, the way he says kicker like itâs an insultâ he doesnât even play anymore. Jaeminâs nice; a little stupid, he definitely doesnât let you rough him up, and he certainly doesnât know any of the kinks you keep buried, revealed to Yeosang and Yeosang only.
âI do,â you lie. âAnd Iâll continue to. Just wanted to make sure you were aware.â
Yeosang sits up a little straighter. âAware of what? The possibility of getting an STD?â
Irritation only makes you burn hotter. âHeâs clean, Yeosang, and so am I.â
âYou sure?â his brows lift. Heâs taunting you. âWhenâs the last time you got tested?â
âShouldnât you have asked me that,â you pull your hands out from your sleeves to count on your fingers, âa few weeks ago, before you fucked me raw, came inside me, let me sit on your face? Or how about when I had your cock down my throat? Shouldnât you have wondered before that?â
He shrugs, a small thing. âForgive me for having trust in you.â
âTrust,â the word makes you laugh. âBecause thereâs so much trust in what we have.â
Yeosang stands, his bulky build swallowing you, height towering over you. You canât believe your body forced you to swallow.
âWe donât have anything,â he uses emphasis on the last word. âAs per your choice. You come here to fuck, blow off steam, you come here to get what no one else can give you. You tell me that only you can make me feel this way, but what about you? Who else is fulfilling every little thing your nasty fuckinâ mind gets off on?â
Your breath catches. He continues, âAnd you want me angry over Jaemin? Did you forget I know him, and know him well? That I was on the same team as him? Lived in the same house as him?â You donât answer, eyes widening, you can feel your pupils dancing below your lids, trying to gauge his next move. âYou donât think I know that he drinks whiskey like itâs water, and can barely get it up half the time? That when you fucked himâwhich Iâm sure was, what, once or twice?âhe busted after three strokes and was already asleep by the time he rolled off you.â
You can feel your heart beating, an unsteady thrum in your chest. âYouâre wrong, Yeosang.â
Heâs right.
âDoes he let you call him names?â He asks. You notice that his green hair has faded a little, framing his sculpted, flushed cheeks. His birthmark seemed brighter, more opaque, a spot youâve kissed a million times, it beckoned you to do it again. âDoes he let you slap him? Does he let you choke him? Does he call you mommy?â
You gasp. Itâs small, but itâs clear, slicing through the air between your faces. Every ounce of you wishes you could suck it back in, retract it, feign that his words were doing nothing to you. It would be useless, anyhow, he knows you down to the bone, keeping any sort of emotion from him proved futile time and time again.
âAnswer me,â Yeosang urges, and thereâs nothing in his voice thatâs calm. The subdued, submissive man youâve spent countless hours with is nowhere to be seen. The muted hum of adrenaline swimming through your body zaps at the base of your spine, like itâd been woken up, branching off to every nerve ending.
âNo,â you whisper, hating that youâre admitting it, but what choice was there? âHe doesnât.â
âI know,â Yeosang grins. Thereâs no warmth in it, itâs sly, mocking. Like all of that was just to get you to say it. âRemember that, the next time you want to make me jealous of the goddamn kicker.â
His chest is flushed pink beneath the white tank he wore. Heaving, rising rapidly, lowering just enough to suck more air in. Heâs pissed, and you donât know why the sight is going straight to the throb in your panties. Never once has Yeosang been dominant, never once has he been mad at you, never once has Yeosang not been the submissive man you trained.
âWhen he does fuck me,â you start, and you genuinely have no idea where youâre going with it. âHeâs⊠rough. He does to me what I do to you.â
Lies. Youâre lying through your fucking teeth. To anyone else, Yeosang would seem unbothered. But you see the flash in his eyes, the deepening of chocolate to coal, how his lips peeled back from his teeth ever so slightly.Â
âAnd I like it,â you breathe. âI like it better.â
Thereâs a semblance of amusement in the curve of his brow. âYeah?â
You nod, âHeâs better than you. Bigger than you, too.â
The snag in Yeosangâs grin, youâve never seen before. Mischievous, like he was already planning the million-and-one ways heâd break you apart. It makes your toes curl into the hardwood beneath your feet, your fingers twitch, your heart double in speed. Excitement, thrill, thatâs what was passing through the air between you, a stand-off of sorts.
Do it, you think, hoping, praying he can hear you. Do it, Yeosang.
And he does.Â
His lips find yours in a hasty crash, his right hand reaching for your throat. Unsteady, uncontrolled movements, not entirely full of confidence but not insecure, either. You moan into it, the sound desperate and relieving all at once, and his fingers tighten. Pressing against the sides of your neck, weight on your veins, your eyes flutter beneath your lids, knees trembling.Â
âThis what you want?â He asks into your mouth, breath heavy, panting like heâs been waiting for this.Â
Your knee hooks over his hip, âYes, Yeo, yesyesyes.â
His hand leaves your throat, grabbing at the leg you threw over his body, using just that one fucking hand under your thigh to lift you off the floor. You answer with your other leg, he catches it swiftly, moving your bodies backward, toward his bedroom. Never breaking the kiss, your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at his roots with enough force that he hisses into your mouth.
He throws you back on the bed instead of laying you down delicately, and as your back hits the mattress, your eyes peel open to catch the sight of him. Pupils dilated, cheeks splotched, forehead kissed with moisture, he looked at you with such hunger it made your back arch off the fucking bed.
âTeasing me,â he mutters, and you think heâs talking more to himself than to you as he climbs over your frame. âDangling him right in front of my fucking face like I wouldnât do anything about it.â
âYeah?â you push his hair off his face, throwing your legs over his muscled thighs. âWhat are you gonna do about it, then?â
He studies you for a cool, calm second before moving. Sitting back on his calves, he pulls your body flush to him, then he flips you over in one swift movement. With a yelp, youâre on your stomach, eyes wide and legs parted, hips lifted off the mattress.
âWhat can you take?â He asks, and instinctively, you werenât sure if it was rhetorical. âWhatâs he do when he fucks you rough?â
Without you answering, he pushes the back of your hoodie up, fingers digging in the elastic of your shorts, pulling them over your ass. You whimper, pushing yourself up by your knees to help him get them off you.Â
Elastic rolled around your thighs, he lands a harsh smack to your ass. You barely get a cry out before heâs repeating himself, âI asked you a question.â
âFuck,â is all you can get out, nails curling into the duvet beneath you. âH-he fucksâ he fucks me hard.â
You donât have time to wonder if heâs buying the bullshit youâre spewing, not when he gets your shorts down to your knees, then down and off your ankles. Two strong, callused hands lift you by the hips, hiking you upward until youâre on your knees.Â
âYouâre such a fucking liar,â he hisses from behind you, painting a finger through your folds. A moan forces itself through your lips at the stimulation, thighs already shaking. Did he know you were lying from the jump? Was he doing it anyway?
ââm not lying,â you whimper in response, knees spreading further, needing more.Â
âIf you wanted me rough, you could have just asked.â You can hear the ruffle of his shorts sliding down his thighs, the elastic of his briefs snapping against his skin. Then you feel his length, his tip, sliding against your folds, spreading the slick thatâs already gathered. âArenât we past the point of pretending I wouldnât do anything for you?â
The question lights you up like a Christmas tree, but sends a pit of something other to your gut simultaneously. You werenât sure how to break down the feeling, you didnât have the brain power to try, not when his tip was prodding at your entrance without prep, without stretch, without anything.Â
âYeosang!â You squeal, turning your head to the side, trying to catch even a glimpse of green over your shoulder. But then heâs pushing in, and the feeling sucks all the air from your chest, forcing your eyes to squeeze shut.Â
âBaiting me,â he gruffs out, like he was talking through his teeth. âTelling me Jaeminâs bigger than me when Iâve seen his fucking cock. We lived together. Do you think Iâm stupid?â
âN-no,â you whine, head in the clouds, somewhere else entirely. His hips snap against yours, a rough, nasty pace; sliding over the front side of your walls, massaging you deliciously, all you can do is shake with pleasure.Â
âYou talk so much shit, run your fucking mouth,â he says, fucking into you like he was strumming along to a beat. âWhat happened to you didnât fuck me, I fucked you? Huh? Look whoâs getting fucked now.â
You think you might be crying, face hot, mouth pried open. Your fingers lose their grip on the duvet, body completely at Yeosangâs mercy, to his hips that snap against yours brutally, relentlessly.
âQuiet now?â He asks, then his thrusts stop completely. His hands grab for your arms, pulling you backward, up toward him. He grabs your hoodie by the hem, pulling it over your head, throwing it elsewhere; then one hand splays across your stomach, the other up at your throat, and he fucks into you again like he never stopped. âDid I break the fucking bitch inside you?â
Your body folds. Or tries to, a loud, uncensored cry ripping from your throat. He holds you steady, two hands keeping your back pressed to his chest, his mouth on your ear.
âYou liked that, huh?â He asks, amusement playing in his tone. âGood to know, for the next time you want to make fun of me because I call you mommy, Iâll remind you of today. Of tonight.â
âYeosang,â you whimper, eyelids fluttering again, your hands searching for his, clasped around your body. Tugging, pulling at them, nails clawing into him, he doesnât budge.Â
âMm,â he moans into your ear. âI donât think so. Should I make you call me daddy? Call me sir?â
Your head tips back, falling limp against his chest, the pocket of skin between his pec and his shoulder. âYeosang.â
His hips switch into a nasty grind, cock dragging against your walls perfectly, his hand drops from over your stomach to between your thighs. Two fingers rub at your clit at the same pace his cock fucks into you, and you nearly fold again.
âShit!â you gasp out, âshit, shit, shit.â
âAsk me,â he says from behind you, voice clear like you were the only one losing your mind. Pressure looms, pleasure building steadily with each circle he traces. âAsk me if you can cum.â
You think you might have whiplash. It makes sense, you think, in all the months youâve dommed him, all the times youâve said nasty shit, for him to pocket every single movement, every single sentence.
You whimper, âPlease.â
He grunts. âAsk. Me.â
âPlease, Yeosang,â you urge, eyes finally cracking open. And thank god you did, because the sight before you threatens to rip the breath from your lungs all over again. Green hair stuck to his forehead, bleeding down his cheeks, over the red mark beside his eye. Cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes wide and crazed; you nearly cum on the spot. Instead, you ask, âCan I cum? Please?â
He kisses you, forgoing a response, forcing you to hold it. His tongue slides into your mouth, teeth clashing against yours, so messy and hot you find yourself teetering scarily on the edge, thinking of anything to delay the inevitable.Â
âNo,â he says into your mouth, the word final.
Despair seems like a tangible thing. A sob cracks from your throat as he lifts his fingers from your clit, sliding out of you, and pushing you face-first onto the mattress. Your body might be jerking, twitching, twistingâ you werenât exactly sure, because too quickly his hands hook under your legs again, flipping you onto your back.Â
âDenial sucks, doesnât it?â he asks, grin wide. You wished you had the brainwidth to wonder how he was so good at this, where this experience came from. The easiest answer would be from you. He pushes your knees up to your chest, settling between them, callused palm leaving your skin only to line himself up with your entrance.
Pushing in smoothly, he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, muffling his moan of pleasure. You reach for him, his face, his shoulders, his hair, and he gives you all three as he leans down, elbows bracketing your head. His lips find yours, tongue and teeth and spit, another messy conjoining with the slick sounds of his hips hitting the backs of your thighs.Â
âWant you to cum, just like this,â he says, voice quiet, barely more than a ragged breath. His bottom lip stays on yours, sharing breath, sharing space. And for a moment, staring into his eyes, youâre scared.
Itâd be easy to get addicted to this, you think. To him, all over again. When you were together, it was addiction; it was daily, sharing spit, sharing space, him inside you like that was his first home, then the apartment surrounding you. With Jaemin, with anyone else, on the field, you performed. You acted, you were someone other than yourself, living outside of your skin.
Youâve never had to perform with Yeosang. Other than the acts you enjoy putting on, the displays of dominanceâ submission now, too. It was natural, fitting, like water and ice, matchstick and flame. Running back and captain of the cheerleading team.
Staring into his eyes, panting into his mouth, clenching around him as euphoria swallows you whole, thereâs a part of you that damns him for quitting football. For stretching the gap between you, ruining routine, forcing you into having feelings for a fucking bassist of a garage band.
He had everything. He had it all. He had a future, he had stability, he had routineâ he had you.Â
And he ruined all of it. For what?Â
He kisses you as he empties himself inside you, spit warming your tongue, filling the space where your breath had dried it. You push the feelings down, the wave of dread, the feeling of everything crumbling around you. You let his weight on your chest be a comfort, the smell of him, a little weedy, sweaty and Yeosang.Â
There was no one else on the planet who understood you like him. There was no one else who could satisfy you like him. There was no one else who could handle everything that you are.
The thought haunts you, that he might accept you for all of it. Pom-poms, glitter, bi-weekly manicures, a nasty personality and a sex drive that challenged a virginâs. He might even like the parts of you that you consider a nuisance, the parts that even you canât comprehend.
Would anyone else pay so much attention? Would anyone else learn you down to whatâs at your core?
âWhy are you crying?â he asks, face warped into confusion, concern.
You blink. Once, twice before your hands are flying to your face, wiping at your tears. âSubdrop, maybe,â you laugh a little, nervous. Embarrassed. âHappens sometimes. Never been on this side of it before.â
He moves your hair out of your face, swiping his thumb under your eye. He shakes his head once, âCan I get you anything? Water? Food? A shower? Clothes?âÂ
âJesus, Yeosang,â you laugh again, the sound fully forced out of your chest as you push him off you. Sitting up, you can feel the rumbling of emotion in your chest. You push it down, down, down. âIâm fine.â
He stares at you for a long second, and you shudder under the weight of it. Moving, your legs aching, you swing them over the edge of the bed, running a hand through your hair. Sheepishly, you look over your shoulder, âMaybe water?â
âLay with me,â he says, naked and flushed, chest still heaving. Eyes softer now, less terrified, a comfort. âFive minutes.â
This wasnât right. Usually it was you offering comfort, youâve never been the one having the come-down after a release of emotion. Of control.Â
You swallowed, face heating. But you nodded, and then laid back down.
And as his body engulfed you with sticky, sweaty heat, it terrified you that there was nowhere else you wanted to be.
He didnât mean to pass you.Â
Not really.Â
But on the way to the Arts Building, if he took the long way, especially if he really needed to get his steps in⊠itâs for his stamina, he swears, to keep his lungs strong onstage. That's the only reason he passed the field, rounding the corner of the one-hundred-twenty yard turf. It just so happened that he passed by your side, catching a glimpse of your black, tiny shorts, your black sports bra, white Nfinity sneakers on your feet.Â
Hands on your hips at the top of the formation, stood opposite of the rest of the team, your team, nodding your head with each beat of the actually kinda sick song. Heavy bass, guitar riffs, vocals dim and monotone. Not a competition mix, then.Â
He hears your voice yell over the turf, bold and dominant, a captainâs voice. âFive, six, seven, eight. Tight! Tight, strong, clean. Get it right!â
Yeosang pauses for a second, his own head nodding along to the beat, watching the twenty-something girls with their hands balled in fists burst into quick, clean movements. Over their heads in a V, hands on their hips, knees bent as they damn near glide into their next formation, fluid with the song.Â
He kicks his feet into motion as you bark out another order, a girlâs name. Heâs lucky he played football instead of being a cheerleader, he thinks, he doesnât know if heâd survive you as his captain.
But itâs sexy nonetheless, seeing you in your element, guiding, controlling, watching with a calculating eye, picking out mistakes as soon as you see them. A perfectionist, someone who thinks good isnât good enough, a captain who cares about her team, how theyâre perceived. How they rank.Â
You donât see him, thank god. But that means he still has to pass his teamâhis old teamâand he wonders if it was worth it to catch a glimpse of your boobs tucked into your bra or your ass peeking out of the legs of your bloomers.Â
He snorts to himself. Of course it was.
Eyes trickling down to the field, opposite of where you practice, he recalls all the time heâs spent on the turf. Drills, sprints, positional work, formations, itâs weird looking down to the green, the guys on it, and feeling nothing. He could cling to nostalgia all he wanted, the feeling he had when he scored, when he won a big game for his team.Â
But he didnât miss being down there. He didnât miss those guys at all. And he feels guilty for it, because they never did anything bad to him.
He spots Mingi, the quarterback, his hair dark, long and sweaty, visible without a helmet on. Heâs dancing on his cleat-covered toes, football between his gloved palms, watching Haechan run down the field, waiting to throw the ball. He can remember the days when it was himself sprinting down the field, adrenaline pushing his legs harder, faster, readying himself for Mingiâs no-doubt perfect pass.Â
His mind wanders, thinking of Aven, thinking of those two, together. Part of Yeosang worries that sheâll get hurt in her plan to hurt Wooyoung, that Mingi would crack the last bits of her that still wanted to try, that still had hope of a relationship, of love.Â
He shakes his head, ridding himself of the thoughts. If anything, Aven will eat him alive.Â
His ears catch onto a particularly loud yell, and his head snaps backward, watching as you saunter out on the turf, fingers pointing, voice lashing. He laughs to himself as he watches you correct someoneâs form, physically fixing her arms into place, throwing your hands over hers to strengthen her fists.Â
Yeah, he wouldnât survive you as his captain. Thank god he played football.Â
Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he dials Jay, wondering if the younger man was in class, or home. With a seven-second long conversation, he turned on his heel, and headed home to grab his bass, instead.Â
Twenty minutes before he ended up in Jayâs garage, he was thankful his lead singer didnât press him about the reason he was there. Jay didnât question Yeosang at all, the two understood each other differently than the other twoâ what music meant, how it shaped a person. Jisung and Jongseob were in class, leaving Yeosang and Jay standing on opposite sides of the garage, their instruments plugged in, and in complete verbal silence, they played.Â
Finding each otherâs melodies, adapting when the other switched, trying to keep in-tune with one another, it was a game. A challenge. A fun one, Yeosang quickly realized, sweat kissing his brow, his tongue poking out between his lips in focus, listening to Jay while simultaneously moving his own fingers, slapping his bass to the tune of the younger manâs electric guitar.Â
This is what Yeosang lived for. Music has always been vital; morning workouts, evening workouts, a playlist he had plenty of songs forced into ringing through the speakers during practices. When he was younger, his parents had music playing almost all the time. He woke up to soft rock, ate lunch to metal, played in his backyard to pop, ate dinner to jazz, fell asleep to classical.
He first picked up an acoustic guitar when he was eight. His first song might have been Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, but as soon as he learned the chords, the strings, how to move his fingers along a fretboard, it was over. Yeosang came home from school and picked up his guitar like it was the only thing he cared aboutâ the only thing he lived for.Â
And for a long, long time, it was. The first time he picked up a bass he was twelve. Different from guitar, the neck was longer, the strings were thicker, Yeosang quickly became obsessed with how if you arenât listening, you canât pin-point where the bass is in a song. But if you really listen, if you look for it, youâll know that bass is vital.Â
Rhythmic precision, in-sync with the beat of the drums, the sounds coming from a bass guitar are low, but not any quieter. A song without bass is hollow, depthless. For whatever reason, Yeosang became infatuated with the idea, with the fact that if he played bass, if he mastered it, heâd be as vital as the instrument.
Then he learned he was really good at catching a football, and at that point Yeosang had so many hobbies he still to this day wonders how he made time for them all. Keeping up with guitar, with bass, and with football was a lot easier when he was twelve than when he was seventeen, getting scouted for college. Long talks with his guidance counselors, with his parents, and Yeosang knew that football was his choice. Itâd put him through on a scholarship, and he could still play, he could still shred, but football was his top priority.
And for the first two years, he loved it. Life was easyâ he lived in the football house, he had friends, his team, a shared routine with all of them, heâd found a family. He spent countless hours in his bedroom on the second floor, playing for no one. Heâd bring his bass downstairs during parties, play it like it was his hidden party trick. No one knew what his bass meant to him, what music meant to him. He had Jongho and Aven for that, the two people he fully confided in, that knew the feelings he kept in the small corner of his conscience. For those first two years, that was enough.
The end of his sophomore year, when he met the younger man beside him, Jay had heard through the grapevine that Yeosang played bass, and approached him in his lecture hall looking for a bassist for his band. Jisung, Jongseob, two younger guys he didnât know at all, Yeosang almost laughed in his face, almost asked Jay if he knew who he was.Â
When he met you, for those first few weeks, everything in his life cracked open. He started playing more, he became addicted to it all over again, the weight of mahogany on his lap, strapped over his shoulder. Slapping his callused fingertips on strings and being mesmerized with the sounds that it made, he played often, any moment he could find, with you always at the forefront of his mind. He cared less about football, only that you were on the other side of the field, or on the sideline. He didnât really care about his teammates, was it so terrible that the only weight they held for him was surface-level friendship? He started focusing on the things that mattered, whatever brought him joy.
You, and his bass. Jongho and Aven, too, when they werenât a pain in his ass.
It was hours now that heâd spent in Jayâs garage, but thankfully, Jay didnât bring you up once. As if the younger man knew Yeosang was plunging balls-deep in his own mind, and didnât want to bring it to the surface. They talked about their show instead, in a week and a half, at the bar they frequented on Fourth Avenue, just outside of campus. It wasnât their first show at the dingy dive, but they had more original songs now then they did last time they performed there, and pressure was a weight he gladly bore.Â
âI have an idea,â Yeosang told Jay, the pair in beach chairs on his driveway now. A pizza sat on a folding table between them, two brown bottles of beer on the cement beside their chairs.Â
Jay popped a brow, âYeah?â
âA song to cover,â Yeosang says, reaching down to grab his beer bottle, bringing it up to his lips. Swallowing, flushing down the pizza, he continues, âFor the show at Eonian.âÂ
âThe show is in like, a week.â Jay shook his head. âFuck no.âÂ
âCome on,â Yeosang leaned forward in his beach chair. âDo you trust me?âÂ
âFine, Iâll bite.â Jay says, reaching for his beer. Bringing it up to his mouth, his bottom lip touching the rim, he asks, âWhat song is it?âÂ
âI just heard it,â Yeosang explains, cheeks flushing pink. This is what he gets for speaking without thinking. âIâll find out tonight, play it for you tomorrow.â
âI donât doubt that, you fuckinâ weirdo,â Jay laughs to himself. âIt creeps me out when you do that, learn a song just by listening to it.âÂ
Yeosang shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips.
When he gets back to his apartment, immediately he's on his couch, sitting over his bass, on the couch, trying to play the melody from memory. He thinks he has one section down, maybe, possibly, by the time youâre bursting through his apartment, right on-time.
His front door slams behind you. Youâre still half-dressed, but at least you had a shirt on now. Even if it was his, and the bottom hem was tucked up into the band of your sports bra, showing off the stretch of skin from your upper abdomen down to the waistband of your shorts.Â
Your hair was still tied up, off your face, white sneakers still on your feet. Fresh off the field, then. âIâm irritated.â
Fresh off the field and pissed. Yeosang sits a little further back on the couch, readjusting himself, waiting for the explanation.Â
âThose girls have no fucking respect,â you throw your wristlet onto his coffee table, arms crossing over your chest.
âKarina?â Yeosang asks, remembering when you were appointed captain at the end of the previous captainâs, Jihyoâs, reign. Karina is the only one on your team who never accepted that you were captain, and not herself.Â
âKarina and her evil fucking minion, Giselle,â you snap, eyes big and raging. âI think theyâre doing it on purpose. Either to get me to step down or get my rank removed, but the jokeâs on them, because neither is going to fucking happen.âÂ
 Walking from one side of his rug to the other, you keep going. âWeâre doing a pep rally next week, and I was told about it a week ago. I only had a few days to choreograph a routine before we needed to start practicing, and I did, now I donât know if itâs because of where Karina is placed in the formation, but the ones that are watching her are copying her. These girls have been cheering for years, Yeosang, weâre a D1 fucking school and they canât learn a routine in a few days?â
Yeosangâs lips flatten. âYouâre putting in the work and they arenât.âÂ
You stop in your tracks. âYouâre right, itâs literally only me putting in work, isn't it? I need to talk to my coach, I donât know how half of these girls made it onto the fucking team.â
âI could probably learn the routine quicker than them,â Yeosang shrugs.Â
You nod ecstatically, âYou could. You literally fucking could, Yeosang. You should see these girls, itâs like theyâve never cheered a day in their life.â
âShow me the routine,â Yeosang says.
You pop a brow, standing still, palms finding your hips. âWhat?âÂ
âShow me,â Yeosang shrugs, then smiles. âLet me see if I can do it.â
âNo!â You shake your head like the idea was ridiculous. âIâm not cheering for you, thatâs embarrassing.âÂ
âOkay, fine,â he huffs. âAt least let me hear the mix.â
âItâs not a mix,â you say, quieter. Voice small, like you were even embarrassed of that. âIt's a song.âÂ
Yeosang tilts his chin up. âLet me hear it.â
As you pick up your wristlet, unzipping it to pull out your phone that somehow fits in the tiny, skinny thing, Yeosangâs grip tightens on the frets of his bass, fingers steadying over the strings.Â
It takes you only a moment to pull up the song, to press play, like you hadnât even checked your phone after finishing practice, you had come straight here. He doesnât let the thought linger as the beat starts playing through the small speakers, Yeosangâs ears straining to pick apart the melody like he could see the sheet music in front of him.Â
He nods his head as you nod yours, your limbs moving like you couldnât stop yourself from micro-performing if you tried. Counting in his head, gauging the sound, the rhythm, the beat, Yeosangâs fingers start moving.Â
Your eyes fly to his bass, wide, then back up to him. He starts playing, flawlessly, as if heâd heard the song a million times before.Â
âWhat?â You mumble under your breath, eyes locked in on where his fingers smack at his strings. âHow the fuck are you doing that?âÂ
Yeosang smiles, pride in the display of teeth, head nodding along as his fingers pluck the strings. A monotonous beat, his other hand barely moves on the frets.
He gets it now. The song takes shape in his head, his lips scrunch in satisfaction, tongue poking out, nodding to the beat he plays without even looking now.
You look starstruck. Unblinking, stuck in place, eyes wide, jaw slack. You take a step forward, like you couldnât believe it, like Yeosang was a fucking hologram or something.Â
âYeo, thatâs really fucking cool,â you almost whisper. Your eyes meet his again, finally blinking, fast enough that Yeosang thinks you mightâve actually convinced yourself he was an illusion. âHow do you do that? Can you do that with any song? How do you know how to play it?âÂ
Yeosang shrugs off what he takes as compliments. âIâve kinda always been able to,â he explains. âI started playing guitar when I was eight, bass when I was twelve.â
Your jaw drops further as you round the coffee table, taking your spot next to him on his couch. âThat long? Like, over a decade?âÂ
Yeosang snorts, âYes, over a decade. Itâs about time that I did something with it.âÂ
The song ends, you bury your phone in the couch cushion absent-mindedly, eyes twin saucers as you stare at him like he was a completely different person. âIs that what you want?â you ask, leaning into the back of the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. âTo make it your career?â
He nods without hesitation. âI thought I wanted football⊠obviously, going to a D1 school and all. But then I met Jay, and realized that I only played football because I had to, then everything felt like it was moving in the same direction, yâknow?â
âLike it was meant to be,â you offer. He nods. Your lips purse, scrunching to one side before you admit, âYou seem happier.â
âReally?â He grins, teeth showing. âI guess I am, I like being onstage, Iâve always liked performing, actually.â
âI never thought that about you,â your eyes find the couch, a string of fuzz ripped from the seam. You pick at it with your manicured fingers, mumbling, âOutside of football, you seemed content being⊠hidden. Quiet, like a mouse. I guess that makes sense, though, you were kind of a star on the field.â
âMingiâs the star,â Yeosang says. âHe gets all the glory.âÂ
âWell, I was always cheering for you.â You finally look up at him, eyes sparkling, and he can feel his breath catch, hear it. So pretty, so perfect, heâs never loved anything in his fucking life the way he loves you. Maybe music. Maybe his bass. But thereâs still the part of him that knows neither compared to what he feels for you, that you were the reason he fell back in love with music all over again.
âWould you still cheer for me?â He finds himself asking, but to him, it feels like a different question entirely. âWhen Iâm onstage. Would you cheer for me in the crowd?â
Your head tilts, a playful smile taking over your entire face. âWait, like, actually come to one of your shows?â
âYes, actually,â he teases, shifting his body so he faces you a little more, bass still taking up space between you. He doesnât mind it, though, barely notices it, not when your gaze fixed on him is hotter, brighter than stage lights. âNext Friday. Eonian.â
Your lips scrunch again, a cute flush spreading across the apples of your cheeks, your nose. âI donât know, Yeosang.â
âYou donât have to be front and center,â he urges, âeven though I know thatâs where you love to be. JustâŠcome see me play.â
You stare at him, eyes dancing across his face, contemplating. Your smile falls a little, and he knows youâre running through the events in your head, what could go wrong, what people would think, what itâd look like if you showed up for him.Â
âIâll think about it,â you nearly whisper, and he knows that not giving him an answer, avoiding yes or no, was intentional.
Youâve already made up your mind. He knows you wonât come. He can feel it, an icy chill spreading through his blood, prickling his scalp. Rejection.
All you have is sex. Thatâs all itâs been from the jump.Â
He stands, placing his bass carefully in its stand, deciding that he didnât want to stare at your perfect face anymore. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he asks, âHave you eaten?â
âNo,â you admit. âI came straight from the field.âÂ
That, he knew. He knew you didnât eat before he even asked the question. Without thought, without words he aims for his kitchen, sorting through his fridge for something that wasnât prepped already, his cabinets for anything in-line with your diet which was just as extensive as his own.
âWhat are you doing?â In the entryway of his kitchen, your shoes are gone, you probably kicked them off somewhere on his rug.
He doesnât look for longer than a millisecond. âTrying to find something to feed you with.â
âYou can feed me something else.â Your voice lowered into velvet, he can hear the want lining your tone, slurring the words together. âIâm still irritated, and Iâd rather fuck it out than eat right now.â
âShould I act surprised?â He quips, leaning his hip into the counter, brows flat.
You step closer, confusion spreading across your features. âWhereâd the attitude come from?â
He runs a hand through his hair, sighing as your feet land before his, your arms swinging around his neck. âI donât have an attitude.â
You raise yourself on your toes to bring your face close to his as you say, âYou do, and if you keep it up, Iâm gonna redirect my irritation to you.â
Your fingers find his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, and his eyes close, lungs emptying. He can remember when you first came to his apartment, vulnerable and needy, asking to fuck him. You told him you had one good thing. He wonders if you were right.
Your lips press into his, soft, questioning, searching for the taste of yes on his mouth. His hands find your waist, lips parting, tongue slipping into your mouth to answer your silent ask. Always yes, heâd never deny you anything, he ignores the way his chest aches, how his throat constricts.
He can remember the day he picked up his bass from the corner of his bedroom at the football house, sitting on his bed, and playing the same measly love song heâd memorized years prior. He hummed the lyrics as he played, fucking up chords, his bass completely out of tune. He didnât care, though, he could barely hear it over his thoughts swarming, every single one about you. The cheerleader heâd just started hooking up with, the one with a loud mouth and a pretty smile, the girl that made him feel whole again.
For a while, you just kissed. You turned him until his back hit the counter, hands in his hair as you kissed him breathless. Your tongue licked into his mouth like there was new space to cover, land to explore, like he felt new. He let you, mind wandering, hands falling under the tee shirt that swallowed your body, touching every inch of skin he could find, wondering if heâd ever feel the rush of picking up his bass from the corner of his bedroom like it was the first time again.
When you broke away from him, panting, fingers still curled in his hair, you kept his face close to yours, mouths barely an inch apart. He spoke first, though. âThought you wanted to fuck it out.â
Your lips curve, a breathy laugh tumbling into his mouth. âMe too.â
You kiss him again, palms sliding across his chest, down to his abdomen, nothing about your touches felt impatient, or stemming from frustration. Like you were basking in him, as if he were the anchor bringing your temper, you back down to earth.
In the times that youâve fucked since you knocked on his door those weeks ago, youâve never just kissed. He isnât sure if youâve ever just kissed. The lack of heat, without promise, just exploratory, easy. Intimate, in a way, more intimate than his most vulnerable moments with you.
A man he is, with disgusting, primal, masculine instincts, the blood rushing below the hem of his shorts is anything but voluntary. He gasps when your front brushes against him, your body warm, your scent in his nose, stray hairs tickling his cheeks. Youâre all over him, part of you lives inside him, itâs second nature that your spit on his tongue gets him hard. You smile into the kiss, and he can feel the shape of pride in it, the arrogance.
Your palm drops, ghosting over his length in his shorts and he moans. Itâs pathetic, really, how easy he is, how fucking worked up you get him without even doing anything. Your palm lays flat, adding pressure, and he groans.
âWork for it,â you whisper, palm curving over his length, fingers gripping the width. Yeosangâs hands leave your waist to grab the edge of the counter behind him. âYou know what to do. Make me proud.â
His hips rock once, experimentally grinding his length into your palm. His head tips back when heâs met with a wall of pressure, your hand unmoving, a surface for him to get off on. He canât fight the high-pitched whimper that crawls up his throat, pleasure igniting each nerve ending in his body, the apples of his cheeks on fire because he canât believe heâs getting himself off on your hand.
You make a small sound, maybe in awe, Yeosang isnât sure. He rocks his hips faster, harder, broken moans and ragged breaths slurring together, completely unbothered by the fact that there were two layers of cloth between skin.
âSo pretty when youâre like this,â you murmur, palm made of stone, warm like a boulder basking in the summer sun. âThinking with your cock, doing anything I tell you to. Do you always get this hard when you kiss me?â
He forces out a breathy, âYeah.â
âMy pretty boy,â you coo, then smack your lips. âSo good for me. Yâgonna get on your knees after I make you cum in your pants?â
He moans, head rocking forward again, features twisted tight. âFuck, yeah, yes.â
âYou want it? Donât wanna fill me up?â
He bares his teeth, your question slicing through his pleasure, not enough to get him to fuck up his rhythm. âWhereâ wherever you wantâ want me to, mommy.â
You gasp, and he opens his eyes to see your brows furrowed in pleasure, eyes dark and focused. His cock twitches at the sight of your swollen, kiss-plump lips, parted, glossy with spit. Pressure builds in his gut, knowing what the title does to you, that it tumbled off his tongue.Â
âCum,â you demand, the word coated in arousal. âCum for me, wanna see you make a mess.â
He grunts, gasping out a desperate, muddled moan, but it takes no more than three more humps of his cock on your hand to spill hot, sticky release into his briefs. He hisses at the feeling, uncomfortable, messy, humiliating. When his hips slow to a stop, you donât move your hand, you donât lessen up the pressure. Your fingers wrap around his cock over his shorts instead, and Yeosang curses so loudly he prays the entire complex canât hear him.
âShut up.â
He shudders, backing into the counter impossibly further, lowered down to his elbows, knees trembling. Whines, whimpers and moans spill from his lips, bucking away from you, jerking rapidly under the weight of your hand. âI canât take it,â he shakes his head, sucking air down to the base of his diaphragm. âI canâtâ I canâtââ
âYou can,â you move closer, caging him in. Eyes locked on his hips, how he shakes beneath you, he can see the grin on your lips from above you, the curve of your cheeks. âWanna see how much.â
âNo,â he gasps, eyes squeezing shut, his body in fight or flight. The overstimulation burns to the point of ache, his mind going fuzzy, all you do is laugh. âPleaseâ please.â
âOne more,â your eyes glance upward, round and doe-like as if you werenât pushing him past the breaking point. You still havenât even taken off his shorts. âCan you do that for me?â
Thereâs a demon inside him that loves to obey you. That gets off on doing what you ask of him. It erases his refractory period like it didnât exist at all.
âY-yes,â he whimpers, tongue lolling out of his mouth, swiping over his bottom lip.Â
âYes what?â
âYesâyes moâmommy.â
âKiss me, baby,â your voice is so soft he blinks to make sure he heard it right. âCome here.â
Lifting himself up, your wrist twists over his shorts, palm rolling over his tip and itâs just enough pleasure to get him building again. He pants into your mouth, the kiss not much of a kiss at all, exchanging breath and spit, teeth clashing together. Yeosangâs babbling into your mouth, begging for something he isnât sure of, reprieve, maybe. But heâs close and you taste so sweet and your hand feels so fucking good and itâs not even touching his skin.Â
Your other hand finds his hair, fingers tugging at his roots, with a sharp hiss from his lips and a stuttered, staggered grunt, heâs spilling into his shorts all over again. You coax him through it, praises, compliments, sweet words he only got to hear when he was obeying you, it makes his brain all fuzzy, makes his abdomen twitch and his cock jump like he had more to give. He knew in his soul that he didnât.
You kiss the corner of his lips, his chin, his jaw, then pepper short, soft presses of your lips down his neck. âYouâre so good,â you whisper into his sweaty skin, âalways so good for me. So proud of you.â
His chest is still heaving, eyes barely closed, but your praise gives him clarity. âNeed to clean up.â
âWanna see,â you whisper, soft, delicate hands traveling down his abdomen, over his tee. âLet me see.â
Your fingers dip into the elastic of his shorts, pulling them down. He can feel the heat of shame, his head tipping backward, eyes on the ceiling. He didnât want to see the mess heâd made.
He hears you gasp, the trickle of awe falling past your lips. Maybe he does want to see what you see. âYouâre so perfect,â you whisper, and he looks down at his light gray briefs, the shattered splotch of wetness darkening them into charcoal. Marvelling at the sight, you mumble, âLook at you.â
âStop,â he whines, hips twitching, ââs embarrassing.â
âItâs hot,â you counter, fingers tugging at the waistband of his shorts, pulling them over where his soft length hangs heavy. âSo messy, youâd do anything for me if I asked.â
His cheeks burn. He doesnât answer, tucking his lips between his teeth, eyes finding the ceiling once more. âCâmon.â His briefs snap against his hips again. âLetâs get you cleaned up.â
Confused, he fixes his gaze on you again. âWhaâ? Do youââ
âBathroom,â you hum, already turning. âCome on, messy boy.â
He follows, like a moth to a flame, a dog to his owner. You clean him, though, a warm towel to his pelvis, his wet clothes thrown in his hamper. In silence, the hum of the bathroom fan sound enough, he watches you move, the fluidity of your movements, brows crooked in focus, with care. You care about him.
You walked through his apartment like you were angry at god himself and somehow, he diffused it. His head tilts, sitting on his bed, watching you sort through his drawers for new clothes as if he were incapable of doing it himself. Thinking out loud, he says, âYou really should talk to your coach.â
Your head snaps to the side, black briefs in your hand. Your face reads calm, but your answer is short, âI know.â
âIf theyâve been torturing you this long, theyâre not going to stop.â
You sigh, and he knows youâre trying to find your favorite pair of his shorts. Gray, soft, long, they reach below his knees. Finding them, you close his bottom drawer and turn, crossing his bedroom to hand the fabric to him. âWhat kind of captain does that make me? That I canât handle two girls.â
He stands, âItâs not that you canât handle them, you shouldnât have to.â
You watch him tug his briefs over his hips, his shorts. âThe other girls, my girls, I donât want them to think Iâm some kind of dictator. That if you donât like me, youâre out.â
Yeosang grins, âThat sounds like a very you attitude to have.â
You roll your eyes, sitting on his bed, then deflate as your back stretches over his duvet. He can see the hint of a smile tugging on your lips as you argue, âNot when it comes to them. I donât want them to hate me, or hate cheer because of me. They felt that way with Jihyo, I felt that way with Jihyo, and she chose me. I wanna be different.â
Yeosang lays down on his bed beside you, flat on his back, lungs emptying as he stares at his ceiling. âYouâre different from her, youâre strict, but youâre not unfair. Just because you donât condone bullying doesnât mean youâre a dictator.â
He can feel your eyes on him, so he turns his head, meeting your stare. âWhat would you do? If you were me.â
âIâd give it right back,â he answers, without a second of thought. âYouâre not the kind of person who backs down. Remind them who you are.â
You stare at him for a second, unanswering. Then your head turns, eyes finding the ceiling, and Yeosang mimics you, staring at the beige wall above him.Â
Minutes might have gone by, maybe hours.
You finally turn to him, âIâm hungry.â
His brows lift. âItâs late.â
âI think we both know by now that your bedâs big enough for two.â
The pep rally was rough.Â
In the locker room, chatter filled the air, high-pitched giggles, yells, conversation swarmed the hallways, bouncing off the metal lockers, directly into your fucking ears.Â
The Birds put on a beautiful show, which you assumed they would, probably the outcome of a pep-talk by the one and only Song Mingi. The team revered him as if he were a god or something, desperate to impress him, like if Mingi said the word, theyâd be drafted to the NFL alongside him. It helped you out, though, it left the crowd distracted, focused on them, a thrum of adrenaline passing through the stadium as you ran onto the turf with your girls.
You donât think the crowd even looked at you or the team once when you were in the middle of the field, fucking up each step of your goddamn choreography.Â
Your friends werenât there, there wasnât a familiar face to look at, to keep your focus on. Not that it specifically bothered you, there were plenty of away games you cheered at where you had to stare at random faces, maybe an older manâs bald head, and used it as a beacon. Somewhere to look. Something to keep your eyes on while you performed outside of your own fucking body.
But the team still didnât have the routine down, and the last-minute tweaks you made to make the routine easier, to dumb it down, failed. The team couldnât keep their heads on straight, Karina couldnât remember what you had just taught her two days ago, and had been rehearsing since. It was frustrating, to know that you failed, to accept that all that you had done still wasnât good enough. You shuddered thinking about getting a call from your coach later.Â
Enduring all of it, feeling all of it, you knew in the pit of your gut there was something else. You donât know whatâs wrong with you, whatâs wrong. A sense of dread was consuming you head-to-toe, like something was off, something was missing. You couldnât put your finger on it.Â
Maybe it was just a rough week; youâre sure the girls hated you right now, with how hard you pushed them all week, they must feel relieved to know the pep rallyâs over. Even if you have to start preparing for competition tomorrow.Â
You caught Jaeminâs eye on your way to the locker room, just a glimpse over the kelly green pom-pom in your hand that held the door open for the rest of the girls. He winked at you, smiled with every single one of those beautiful, white teeth, and you felt nothing. Nothing.Â
You never have felt anything for Jaemin, if you were being honest with yourself. If you were being really honest, if you came to terms with what you felt, youâd remind yourself that every time you catch Jaeminâs eye on the field, after practice, all the times heâs sauntered up to you when you were cleaning up on the turf, flirting with you shamelessly⊠you remembered when it was Yeosang. You wished it was Yeosang.
Your stomach aches. Twists, churns, like cramps on the second day of your period. You slammed your locker shut a little harder than you meant to, jaw settled in frustration, palms sweating.Â
âYou good?â Karina asks, black hair still tied at the crown of her head, curled and framing her face, laying on her shoulders. The massive, bright green bow glimmered, lined with gold and white, bringing out the red in her cheeks.Â
You grimace. Feigned concern, Karina doesnât give a fuck if youâre okay, she doesnât care about anyone except herself.Â
âFine,â you respond, a short, curt reply. It meant don't push it.Â
Karina huffs a laugh as Giselle comes up to her side, the brunette twin smirking as if she could read Karinaâs mind. You think maybe they could read each otherâs mindsâ where one goes, the other follows. Your eyes bounce between the two with growing confusion, your upper body jerks as if to ask what.Â
âNice hickey,â Giselle giggles. âJaemin?â
Your hand comes up to clasp around your neck, the spot where Giselleâs eyes were locked. You didnât even know it was there, you donât know how you didnât notice when you were putting your makeup on.Â
âNo,â Karina makes drama of the word, dragging it out, head tilting to the side, body leaning into Giselleâs. The two had dressed already, back to denim shorts and microscopic tank tops, flip flops on their feet. âSheâs not fucking Jaemin anymore. Right, Captain?âÂ
Your cheeks flush, an embarrassed heat flooding you. Maybe the reminder of Yeosang is what you needed to fake a laugh, one icy, mean. âAnd since when are you two so interested in whoâs inside me? Are you waiting for your turn?â
Giselle nearly gags. Karina huffs, âThatâs disgusting, why would you even say that?â
You shrug, a nasty smirk tugging at your lips. âSeemed like where it was headed. If you asked nicely, I might have said yes.â
âI wanted to know because I fucked Jaemin,â Karina stands a little straighter, arms crossing over her chest. âHe said you havenât called him in weeks. Ghosted him. Guess itâs âcause youâre gay now?âÂ
You grab your duffel bag from the bench, a rectangular, heavy bag beaming hues of green and gold through the locker room like a kaleidoscope. âWere you talking about me before, or after you fucked him? Or was I on your mind during all three strokes?â
Karinaâs cheeks redden, face morphing into something horrified. Her eyes dance, searching for something to argue with before she flat out asks, âIâ youâ are you still fucking Yeosang?â
You hate the way his name sounds on her tongue. Your hand grips your bag strap tighter, knuckles changing color with strength. âNo,â you hiss.
âWe know you are,â Giselle crosses her arms, like Karinaâs mini. âAre you going to his show on Friday? To watch your little garage-band boyfriend?â
Your jaw clenches, ears moving with the grit of your teeth. Karina laughs, head tipping back, âItâs a shame, you know. He had a bright future, but now heâs a loser. Do you think he quit football to get away from you? Just for you to follow him like a lost puppy dog?âÂ
âI wonder if heâs thinking âdamn, I canât get rid of herâ,â Giselle sighs, a finger poking her cheek like sheâs mid-thought. âOr maybe heâs so fucking high from all the weed he smokes he just doesnât care who heâs fucking.â
âYou donât get to talk about him,â you hiss, stepping forward, dropping your duffel to the floor in a harsh smack. âKeep his name out of your filthy fuckinâ mouth.â
âOr what?â Karina steps closer, meeting your broadened shoulders, her chin jutted upward. âGo ahead, do something. Iâll be made captain so fucking quick itâll make your head spin.âÂ
You laugh, and itâs vile. Low, coated in malice, it takes everything in you not to spit on her. Tipping your chin up, looking down at her over your nose, you say, âYou wish you had someone like Yeosang. The only guys you can get to fuck you are the ones so fucking drunk they canât see you.â
You snap your head to Giselle, âIâll be at his show, proudly watching my garage-band boyfriend while you keep plowing through the lacrosse team, praying one of them will actually text you back this time.â
You bend down, grabbing your duffel bag from the floor. âIâm captain because I deserve to be, I worked my ass off for that title. What have you accomplished, other than living in my shadow?â
Karina counters, âThose girls watch me, not you.â
âI wouldnât be able to look away from a trainwreck, either,â you bark back, teeth bared. âIâll make sure to keep you in the back from now on.â
Karina gasps, eyes blowing wide like that was a death sentence. âNo.â
âIâm the captain,â you respond, leaning forward, making her shrink where she stands. âYouâll be lucky if Coach doesnât kick you off the goddamn team after I call her.â
Steam is radiating off you as you barrel out of the locker room. Chest heaving, jaw locked, fingers shaking around the strap of your duffel bag, your mind is roaring as you nearly sprint down the hallways dripping in gray. Flickers of green and white beckoned for your sight, posters, banners, streamers, you couldnât see until you were out of the stadium. And then began your trek to him.
He wasnât home, though. His apartment door locked. You knocked, you banged, you called his name. No answer. You thought about calling him, your phone buried somewhere in your duffle, when you looked down you realized you never even changed. Still in uniform, a green and white tank, Birds printed diagonally across your middle, your matching mini-skirt reaching just mid-thigh.
You needed him, you needed him, not to blow off steam, not to touch him and feel like you had a semblance of control over something. You needed him to tell you again, that youâre strong, you donât back down, that youâre worthy of your title and you arenât just like Jihyo. You wanted to hear him say that he was proud of you for sticking up for yourself, that youâre right, only his reassurance could ease the raging war in your chest.Â
You needed him. Youâve never needed anyone in your fucking life.
âHey,â you hear from behind you, a voice so comforting and warm your body twists.
Your eyes widen, taking in his outfit. Green tee, oversized, white long-sleeve covering his arms. Denim on his legs, boots poking out, hair styled over his forehead, silver gleaming in his ears. Youâre slapped with the memory of waking up beside him, the both of you naked, bodies molding together like youâd both been dreaming of it.
You blink, âWhere were you?â
His cheeks go pink. Sheepishly, he admits, âThe pep rally.â
It steals the air from your lungs, relief flooding you, rendering your body hot. âYou came?â
âYou were stressed about it,â he shrugs. âI skipped band practice for it. You were right, that bitch was smug, she knew exactly what she was doingââ
You drop the duffel bag, throw your arms over his shoulders, and steal his lips. He smiles into the kiss, holding you tight, laughing a little at your enthusiasm. âWhy?âÂ
âYou came,â youâre smiling, pressing your forehead against his. âI didnât think you were there, I didnât even think to ask you to come, Yeosang.â
âI thought you wouldâve spotted me,â heâs laughing, his smile silly and happy. âGreen hair and all.â
Your hands find his hair, soft between your fingers, âSo much team spirit.â
He kisses you again. âYou caught me, I dyed it so everyone would know I was there for you.â
You laugh, head tipping back, arms tight around his shoulders. Words thrum under your skin, floating through your limbs, climbing to the tip of your tongue. Your smile falls. Swallowing all three of them down, you admit, âI fought with Karina in the locker room. I think I won.â
âLike, fist-fight?â
âStrongly-worded verbal argument.â
âThatâs your forte,â he makes a face like that was obvious. âNo shit, you won.â
Your smile returns tenfold. âCan we go in?â
âDoes that mean youâre going to change out of your uniform?â
âYeah.â
âThen, no.â
You feel like youâre living outside of your own body.
You arenât a dive-bar girl, you were lucky you had your ID in your purse, you didnât even think about needing to show it to the tall, bulky brunette guy standing outside the front door. He let you in, and you mentally thanked god he got you away from the guy smoking the disgusting cigarette out front that nearly choked you. Who even smokes anymore?
Reality hits you, and you remember you're at a bar. Not a nice one, either. Neon signs hang from the walls, license plates and dollar bills scribbled on with black marker stapled to the deep brown oak lining the roof over the bar, music played through the speakers, rock music, heavy music, you fought not to cringe. The smellâ the smell, tobacco and beer and sweat, there were college kids fucking everywhere.
All people your own age, but fuck, each and every single one you laid eyes on, you gave a stare of disgust. You didnât understand the point of coming here on weekends, drinking until you blacked out, kissing randoms in the corner, the idea of you doing it had you gagging. The bar was packed, brown leather stools topped with people in denim, a guy with a shaved head behind the bar juggling bottles.
You felt scarily out of place. You think you might turn around and leave.
You had too much to make up for. Too much to prove. Too much to fix.Â
Conventional relationships werenât for you. Your taste was differentâ what got you off, what you searched for in a partner, wasnât something you could find in just anyone. When you met Yeosang and realized you could be yourself, that you were free, you dug your nails in and refused to let go.
When he quit football and ripped your world from under your feet, you hated him. You hated him for a long while. You were embarrassed that you felt so deeply for someone who was comfortable with climbing down the social ladder instead of up. You felt shameful that you were so attached to someone who didnât mind upending his entire life, without even considering you or how you felt about it.
You can remember the night he told you he was quitting football, how you screamed at him, you can still count how many times you said no. Youâll regret that night for the rest of your life, because how free you felt with Yeosang, how everything fell into place, how comfortable youâd become being yourself, is what he became after he quit. When he committed himself to his passion.
He was comfortable changing his entire life because he felt safe enough to be happy. He assumed he had your support, that youâd be by his side through it all, and you let him down. You left him. And for what? What the fuck did you leave him for? What shame did you think youâd carry, if your boyfriend was no longer on the football team?
You ordered a drink from the bald guy and ignored his face when Aperol Spritz left your lips. Yeosang showed up for you, after he asked you to show up for him, and you basically said fuck no to his face. Were you really so ignorant that you couldnât see yourself cracking each and every layer of his confidence? Were you so shallow that the only thing thatâs real to you, is how other people see you? Did that make it reality?
Itâs pathetic. Heâd give you the world if you asked him to, and youâve never done anything for him. Youâve never given him any reason to be kind to you, any reason to love you. And yet he still trusts you with every ounce of himself, trust youâve never, not once, deserved.
Youâre simmering in rage, self-loathing as you take the seat of a high top table in the back corner. Bare legs crossed, one knee over the other, the toe of your heel sits on the bar of the chair, your mini-skirt covering only what it needs to. You feel eyes on you, on your low-cut top, and the part of you that still clings to being perceived, wonders if theyâre judging the streak of green you clipped into your hair. The one that matches Yeosangâs shade exactly.Â
You keep the skinny black straw attached to your lip, the orange liquid in the tall glass bitter. Your eyes find the stage, still dark, the head peeking out of the side. Olive skin, dark eyes, ebony hair spiked atop his head, you think thatâs Jay. Youâve never met him, only heard about him from Yeosang, but from the description you remember receiving, it matches him. Your back straightens when you realize his eyes land on you, the two of you wide-eyed, staring at each other. You couldnât be sure, the stage on the opposite side of the bar, but how his body seemed to freeze, you think he might know you, too.
You poke at your phone that laid dark on the table-top. They were supposed to go on any second now. Your leg starts bouncing, lips sucking on your straw, guzzling down liquid. Impatient, nervous. You scan the bar, muscleheads, girls half-dressed, people dressed in all black, silver sparkling on their wrists and necks.
You spot Mingi at the bar, and for a second you feel relief seeing a familiar face. His eyebrows are tied together, mouth moving, hands splaying with every word like heâs mad. Then you spot Aven beside him, chin jutted upward, shoulders back like she could will herself into being taller than him. Your brow pops in curiosity.
Eyes sliding to the corner, you spot Karina, Giselle, standing with another girl that looks semi-familiar. Then you notice cigarette-guy at her back, arms wrapped around her, and you cringe as you remember the smell of tobacco. Says a lot about your two teammates, if thatâs the company they keep.
It feels like fucking forever until the music shuts off, the lights go dim, and the stagelights burn warmth. Jay walks out first, you think the brunette is Jisung, the small blonde boy Jongseob. Yeosangâs last, and your glass nearly falls from your fingers.
Heâs in leather. Black, on his legs, hugging each and every muscle in his thighs. On his bicep, a band, leather and tight, it squeezes him ever so slightly, his bicep bulging out above and below it. On his left hand, a loop around his pointer finger, covering the stretch of skin on the outside of his palm.
The tank on his upper half is cotton, you think, low-cut, showing off his pectorals, the hint of purple from the hickey youâd left days ago still bruising his skin. His hair is messy, freshly dyed, bright and neon and attention-stealing. His smile is wide and sure, his grip on his bass firm, youâve never seen him look so confident. So assured.
His eyes scan the crowd, the people who flocked to the stage. Jayâs speaking, you canât hear him, it was as if there was a tunnel between yourself and Yeosang, the two of you on opposite sides, all you could see was him, all you could hear was him.
And like he really was on the opposite end, his eyes landed on you. They stay there, widening ever so slightly in surprise, maybe happiness? You hope itâs happiness. You can feel your heartbeat pick up, heat on your cheeks like you were the one beneath the spotlight, you wondered if you made a mistake in coming here.
Jay strikes a chord, and Yeosangâs muscles flex as his fingers find the strings of his bass. For too long, his eyes stay on you, like he couldnât believe that you were really there, as if heâd made it up. You throw him a little wave, a small smile, and he beams.
The first song was original, you recognized it, something punk, loud and rhythmic. Your head nods, your foot bouncing against the bar on the chair in tune with Jongseob beating on the drums. Halfway into it you know theyâre talented, better than good, and you curse yourself for never asking Yeosang to play for you. For never caring about this side of him, never showing interest, never wanting to know.Â
Itâs not until the third song that your cloud of self-loathing dissipates, because you recognize it. Last week, he sat on his couch, bass in his lap while you played it from your phone. Just days ago, you performed with this song as the fucking track.Â
You stand from the chair, his eyes find yours. Smirking, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind. Then youâre fighting through the crowd, kitten heels stepping in puddles of liquid, arms pushing people out of your way like they were nothing but obstacles. You were sure people cursed at you, yelled at you, you didnât hear them, not when you were feet away from the man you love and he was playing a fucking song for you.
Bodies jumped at the front, arms swinging, people singing along. You stood there, eyes wide, trying to catch your breath, hand over your pounding heart in your chest. Heâs beautiful. Sweat kisses his skin, his pink-splotched chest, hair already wet and sticking to his face. Youâve never seen him look this way before, confident, more than confident, arrogant, evenâ fingers plucking at the strings like he could play it with his eyes closed.
You love him. You love him.Â
Overcome with emotion, adrenaline pounding through you like Jongseobâs sticks hitting the drums, you let go. Jumping, singing along, your arm swings over your head, the sound of your heels hitting the floor completely drowned out. You keep your eyes on him, completely and utterly ecstatic, and Yeosang smiles back, refusing to take his stare away from you like he didnât want to look away, either.
You love him, you love him, you fucking love him.Â
You loved the structure of your relationship before he quit football. You loved him in uniform, in cleats, a football in his handâ but was this that much different? Was this not better, doused in black and leather, his fingers creating instead of catching? Did the rush you felt when you kissed him on the field even compare to the rumbling in your chest right now? Why the fuck did it take you so long to give it a goddamn chance?
For the rest of his show, you stayed up front, and to your surprise and his, you knew some of the songs. Old music your dad used to play when you were growing up, but that kind of nostalgia sticks with you, glued to your spine. Much like your eyes stayed glued to him, swaying back and forth, jumping out of your skirt when Jay and Jisung started shredding. What the hell have you been so afraid of?
After they bow and leave the stage, youâre moving with them, pushing through bodies to the left of you to try and get yourself where Jay had poked his head out earlier. You werenât thinking, you didnât even consider if you were allowed backstage as you pushed yourself forward, forward, forward.
You needed to see him, needed to touch him, you needed him. You needed to tell him you fucking love him, that youâre proud of him, that nothing makes you happier than seeing him happy.
He meets you at the curtain. Dark eyes dilated, body doused in sweat, clothes sticking to him, you didnât care. He pulls you behind it and you donât say a word before you throw your arms around his neck and crash your lips onto his.Â
He holds you steady, one foot stepping backward to keep you both upright, heâs laughing into the kiss, giggling like he still didnât quite believe you were here. Pulling away, your hands fly to his hair, âIâm so proud of you.â
âYou came,â he says, voice breathy, he still hadnât caught it. âYouâre here.â
âYouâre insane.â You laugh, pushing the stray hairs off his face, your feet not even touching the ground. âYouâre fucking insane, Yeosang, I didnât knowâ I didnât know you were so good.â
âDamn, what about us?âÂ
Your smile drops, eyes blowing wide as you lift your head up. Jisung stands with a brow popped, Jayâs face flat, Jongseobâs face blown into full surprise, hands half-gripping his drumsticks like even he couldnât believe you were here. It was a sorry excuse for a backstage, or a green room, you werenât sure. You were at a dinky dive bar.
Yeosang slowly lowers you back down to the ground as you swallow, âSorry. Hi guys.â
Jayâs lips stay flat, he waves, just a movement of his fingers. Jongseob blinks. Jisung grins, âHiii.â
âThat was incredible,â you force a smile, itâs nervous. âYouâre all so talented.â
âWe put him back together,â Jay says, tone flat. Yeosang jumps, trying to interject, but Jay cuts him off, âWe were there when you destroyed him. Do you even know what he went through?â
You swallow, cheeks flaming. You shake your head.
âJay,â Yeosang warns, his voice tight. Youâve never heard it before, but you barely notice, you canât when Jayâs eyes thin further.
âDonât force us to do that shit again,â Jay barks. âIt took too long, and weâre too busy.â You loose a breath at the amusement playing in his tone. âAnd we better see you at our show next week.â
Nodding, you immediately agree, âI wonât, Iâll be there. I promise.â
Jisungâs hands find Jayâs shoulders, nudging him forward, âCome on, father Jay, Jesus Christ. Letâs give them some space.â
Jongseob follows the pair, eyes still wide and sparkling, head never once turning away from you as all three of them walk through the curtain. You release the rest of the breath you didnât know you were holding as you turn back to Yeosang, âDid he mean that?â
Yeosang starts to shake his head, mumbling reassurance, hands searching for your waist, but you stop him. âSangie,â you urge him, âdid he mean what he said? Did I hurt you?â
âCan I say something without freaking you out?â Yeosang asks, and your hands find his shoulders as you nod. âI was, like, balls-deep in love with you. When you ghosted me, I went off the deep end a little.â
Your bottom lip curves, pain slicing through you. âIâm so, so sorry.â
âThatâs in the past,â he shakes his head. âLong time ago.â
âNot long enough,â you whisper. âIâll regret hurting you forever, Yeosang. Iâll never do that to you again.â
His eyes dance across your features, reading in-between the lines. He doesnât respond.
âDo you still love me?â you ask, and fear curls in your gut.Â
His lips perk upward, âYou know I do.â
A smile dares to swallow your face. âIs it okay that I love you, too?â
He answers with his lips on yours, both of his hands on your back, kissing you so hard it dips your body backward. You squeal into his mouth, arms flying around his neck, holding him tight as he lifts your feet off the ground.
âYou showed up for me,â he says into your mouth, before kissing you again. âYou cheered for me. Thatâs all I could have ever wanted, ever asked for.â
âStart thinking of new gifts,â you say as you land back on your feet. âThereâs a lot I need to make up for.â
He presses his forehead to yours, fingers squeezing at your hips. âThe fact that you love me is enough.â
You cup his cheeks in your hands, heels lifting off the floor to press another kiss to his lips. âYou make me a better person, Yeosang. You let me be me. I want to be that person for you, too.â
âYou areââ
âNo, Iâm not,â you shake your head, your smile weak. âBut I will be, if you let me.â
He kisses you again, and itâs answer enough. He pushes you backward by your hips, five steps before your back gently hits a wall, arms closing around his neck. You throw one of your legs over his, pushing your tongue into his mouth, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.Â
âSay it again,â he says into your mouth, pushing his hips into yours.Â
âI love you.â
He moans, quiet, but telling. âAgain.â
You roll your hips against him, âI love you, Yeosang.â
His palm finds your thigh, gripping tight as his other hand tilts your jaw upward, kissing you deeper, harder. Your hands search his abdomen, his chest, sliding up to cup his cheeks, using the smallest bit of force to pry his lips off yours.Â
âYouâre not fucking me here,â you breathe out, taking in his dilated pupils, his red cheeks. âThis place is disgusting.â
He snorts, head dipping forward, âYouâre gonna have to get over that, what if I go on tour one day and wanna have a quickie backstage?â
A full-body shiver racks through you, and it only makes him laugh harder. He kisses you once more, then peels himself off you. âI love you, too, even the high-maintenance.â
âYou donât even know half of it,â you bring your leg back into yourself, both feet finding the floor, fixing your skirt. âHow high-maintenance I actually am.â
âI assume Iâll be learning.â
âYes, you will.â
you are an HONEST PERSON with a warm heart do NOT steal my shit
masterlist đŠ
Omg this Yeosang, I need more of him like this cause this was beautiful. I loved how this played out so much. I love this and need more. This was just so well done.
one date with someone else is all it took to realize you're in love with your roommates, wooyoung and san. but do they want you as much as they want each other? â.Ë
âI think that dress is saying, âTake me back to your place,â but the other one leaves more room for mystery, like maybe, âI could come home with you, but I might just be here for free dinner.ââ
With your hands on your hips, you stared at your roommate, San, unimpressed. Curled up on your bed, he laid on his side, one palm holding up his head, the other on your puppyâs belly, rubbing it while your black lab laid there with his paws up, tongue lolling out of his mouth.
âWhich one are you going for?â He asks after receiving nothing but silence in return, one knee bent up, the other extended straight along the length of your mattress, his foot near your pillows.Â
A date with a shared friend of your two roommates, one you originally didnât want to go on, but were now somewhat excited for. You havenât been on a date in a while, which you didnât think much of, but it seemed everyone and their mother was more than concerned for your love life than you were. You were content with San and Wooyoung, your two roommates, and your one year old black lab named Sweetie who was almost as big as you.
After fighting both San and Wooyoungâs attempts at convincing you to go out with Yunho for a week, you finally agreed, days into the follicular phase of your cycle, mere moments out of the month when you craved the touch of a man. Now, mid-ovulation, you werenât completely sure where you wanted to end up tonight.Â
You knew Yunho well. Being a friend of both San and Wooyoung, he was over your apartment all the time, with his shaggy brown hair, cozy clothes that made him look like a librarian, legs that stretched on forever. Sometimes you caught yourself staring at his veiny hands for a second longer than what was considered appropriate, but you never thought of Yunho as an actual option.Â
When you came home after a long day of teaching, blabbing to San and Wooyoung how the other teachers at the studio teased you for being single yet again, telling you that you should at least go on dates, the pair took it upon themselves to find you a suitor. Silently, without your knowledge, they hooked you up with Yunho, one of the only other single people in their friend group. Your friend group.
âI guess the second one?â You tilted your head to the side in thought, turning to stare at yourself in the mirror again, a black dress that hugged your curves dangerously. âMaybe this is more club than it is dinner and drinks.â
âTry on the other one again,â San tilted his chin toward the brown dress you tossed on the chair in the corner of your room, the one usually tucked under your desk that held your two-monitor PC setup. Used mainly for The Sims 4. No one had to know that part, though, your set-up was sick.Â
You whined, head falling backward, effectively giving up. Sweetieâs head picked up, and Sanâs amused smile grew as you trudged across your bedroom, crawling on your bed, sprawling yourself across your best friend who rolled on his back, opening his arms to welcome you in.Â
San chuckled, your head tucked below his chin, vibrations bleeding through your skin. His body was so hard beneath you, so warm and inviting, you could happily stay here, buried into him forever. He turned his head, making room to press a kiss to the top of your head, âYouâll have fun, Yunhoâs a great guy. Heâll treat you well.â
âWhat if I just want to cuddle and watch movies all night? Is it so bad to cancel now?â You mumbled, voice muffled by the cotton white tee he wore, one from the pack you bought him a month ago. His home uniform, a white tee that clung to his body like latex, and gray sweats that hung so low on his hips you wondered how they didnât fall off sometimes.Â
âCome on,â San ushered you upward, his chest pushing on your cheek until you pulled your arms under your body to lift yourself off of him. You pouted, he smiled, dimples joining the party on your bedspread. âIf you donât like him, you leave, no harm, no foul.â
âHeâs your friend,â you whined again, bottom lip jutting out in the most exaggerated way. âWhy did I agree to a set up with one of your friends?â
Just as San was about to protest that Yunho is one of your friends too, you heard the front door snap open, sneakers hitting the wall as he kicked them off his feet, you always heard him before you saw him. Yours and Sanâs heads turned to your opened bedroom door as Wooyoung yelled from the living room, âItâs date night!â
You sighed, sitting backward, legs tucked under you. Sweetie got up from where he snuggled against San and joined your pity party by laying across your lap, head nuzzling into your tummy. Like a reflex, you scratched your fingers along his back, on the top of his head, he pushed air through his nose in delight.Â
Wooyoung ran into your bedroom, halting dramatically in your doorway, both hands propped up on the frame on either side of his head. His eyes danced between you, San and your dog, but they landed on San. âWhy isnât she ready?â Eyes sliding to you, âWhy arenât you ready?âÂ
âI donât wanna go,â your head tipped back again, whining, âSweetie doesnât want me to go either, look at him, heâs so cozy. He wants me to stay home and cuddle with him.âÂ
Wooyoungâs lips flattened in a line, âYou canât cancel on him, Shy. Heâll be here in thirty minutes to pick you up, itâs rude if you cancel now. Get up, girl.â
Your top lip curled in distaste, you hated when he said your name like that, even if it was the nickname they both had for you. Really, it was Sanâs nickname, which was originally your motherâs, he picked it up when he was three, when your entire family called you their shy girl. The nickname had always stuck with him, even after moving away from your hometown and into the city that your family thankfully wouldnât step foot in, even after almost a decade. When you met Wooyoung your junior year of college, he thought the nickname was so damn cute he started calling you Shy, too.Â
Wooyoung moved to the center of your room, movements fluid, eyes dancing about the space like he was your fairy godmother. Picking up the brown dress thrown over your chair, he cheered, âAha! I love this one on you.â
Sighing, you tapped on Sweetieâs head, a warning to him before you stood up. He crawled off your lap and back into Sanâs chest, settling in his side just like he had before you interrupted. You stood up off the bed, pulling your dress down your thighs, and Wooyoung grinned, eyes flaring, âThat dress is an option? What, are you planning on fucking him?â
Eyes narrowing, you scowled at him, crossing the room to snatch the brown dress from his hands. In all black, jeans, tee and jacket, he wore his hat backwards on his head, hiding his short, cropped black hair. Rings adorned his fingers, silver necklaces on his neck, he and San so opposite it still made you laugh at how close the three of you are.Â
You supposed you were the glue. To Wooyoungâs hotheaded, outspoken, free-bird self, San was more emotional, logical, he actually thought before he spoke, when his feelings didnât cloud his mind. You were the perfect combination, spontaneous yet level-headed, in tune with your emotions, in tune with theirs, you were the ground they stood on, the final word in their decisions. Why did you need to go on this date when all you needed was in this room with you?
âNo,â you bite, throwing the dress on the bed while you pull the one you already wore up and off your body.Â
Woo laughed, sitting down on the chair he stole the dress from, âNo? Your panties match your bra.â
âI just wanted to be prepared,â you throw the dress at him as soon as it's off your body and he catches it with one hand, eyes obviously drinking in your figure. Too close for comfort, thatâs what the three of you were, roommates and best friends and an enigma no one around you can understand.Â
When you turn to San, his eyes are on Sweetie before him, his fingers lightly scratching his head. Always polite, always considerate, you grabbed the brown dress you threw on the bed, forcing yourself to not recall the days where he wasnât so respectful.Â
âDid you shave? Be honest,â Wooyoungâs eyebrows raise as you step into the low cut, bodycon brown dress. You snort, walking towards him so he can zip it up your back.Â
âI trimmed,â you answer simply, amusement dancing in your tone, pulling your hair to one side to give him access to the zipper. He straightens in the chair, one hand on your hip as the other tugs the chilly zipper up your back, he stands back up to reach the top. You turn to him, hair still grasped in your fist, brows raised as the thought crosses your mind, âShould I have shaved?âÂ
âHell no,â San responds from the bed, eyes trained on you and Wooyoung standing feet away from him. âYunhoâs a man, like, a man. He doesnât give a fuck if you have a bush or whatever.â
âYou should have left the bush,â Wooyoungâs smile is swimming in his eyes too, half-joking, half-serious, âitâs like unwrapping a present on Christmas morning.âÂ
You peel away from him with a laugh as you stand before your full-length mirror, hands gliding down your body as you twist from side to side, head tilted to look at yourself from every angle. You look good, the color compliments your features, accentuates your curves just enough, you didnât know if the heavy feeling in your gut was anxiety or if you didnât feel confident or what. Itâs been a long while since youâve been on a date. You sigh, âI just feel like itâs too much.â
Wooyoung comes up behind you, one of his veiny hands on your waist, his cologne in your nose. Woody, notes of creamy sandalwood, spicy, you ease into his touch as he swings a pair of pumps around your front for you to look at through the mirror. You missed when he grabbed them from your closet. âYouâll feel better with these on,â his voice is low in your ear, velvety even if it wasn't intentional, âYour legs will look longer. Heâll wanna eat you from across the table instead of his food.â
You nod, swallowing, ridding your thoughts of all things incriminating about your roommate and best friend. He moves to crouch down on one knee in front of you, your heels on the floor beside him. San, on his stomach now, is beaming while he watches Wooyoung give you princess treatment as if your heart wasnât reaching tachycardic level, âItâs like youâre Cinderella. Shinderella.â
Your brows scrunch as a punched laugh rushes from your chest, one palm holding the hat on Wooyoungâs head for leverage as you slip your foot into the deep maroon heel heâs holding out for you. âThat was an awful joke, Sannie.â
âI liked it,â Wooyoung smiles up at you, sincerity in his eyes, all warmth and love as he grabs the other shoe, âYou deserve to be treated like a princess, so if he doesnât hold the door open for you, pull the chair out for you, if he doesnât pay the bill, you come home straight to us.â
He stands up on two feet to lean forward, pressing a kiss to your freshly done hair, hands squeezing your shoulders, âWhy does this lowkey feel like a big deal?â He turns around to look at San while your face flushes aggressively, âI feel like weâre giving her away.â
San snorts a laugh, tucking a muscled arm under his head to lay his cheek on, âShe knows sheâs ours at the end of the day.â
You roll your eyes, hands on your hips again as you turn to San, disagreement in your body language but in your heart you know itâs fucking true. Ever since you were little, youâve looked up to San in a way, always taller than you, stronger than you, older than you. Even if itâs only by a year, youâve always seen him as someone wiser, someone you could count on no matter what, if you needed him, heâd be there. Because of that youâve always stuck by his side, never treading farther than armâs reach, because as much as you were Sanâs, he was also yours.Â
And he knew it in his bones, too.Â
âItâs one date,â your voice is full of reassurance as you walk to your closet, pulling out your collection of bags, totes, purses, already having one in mind. Finally finding the tiny black Coach purse as you realize what youâd just said, you whip around to look at his dimpled-cheeks deep in the pocket of his elbow, purse tucked under your arm, âWhy was I just about to convince you why I should go? This is getting very backwards.â
âBecause you love us so much, you donât want us to sit here all night, all sad because some six foot sexy man is taking you away from us,â Wooyoungâs voice is full of humor as he sits back on your bed, one leg tucked under him, one hand rubbing Sanâs exposed ankle. He sits up a little straighter, âYou should still go, though. We wonât be that sad.â
With your features blown into offense, you scoff, âIâd expect you two to be crying, nervous wrecks while Iâm gone. Youâre telling me youâll be fine and dandy while Iâm off getting pounded by that same six foot sexy man?â
âPounded?â Wooyoung and San answer at the same time, their eyes wide, eyebrows in their hairlines. San even picked his head up from the pocket of his elbow.Â
You laugh loudly as you put your everyday purse on Wooyoungâs lap, transferring all your necessities into the tiny handbag. San sits up, crawling behind Wooyoung with his legs straddling the younger manâs back, âYouâre really gonna fuck him?!â
âDo we need to have the talk?â Wooyoung blinks at you, face completely shocked, leaning back into Sanâs arms that wrapped around his front, âWhen was the last time you even had sex?â
âIâm twenty-eight years old, first of all.â You hold up two hands in front of you, palms flat, facing both men. âSecond of all, I donât know! Who knows? If the date goes super awesome-ly then I might end up in his bed, yeah.â You point a finger at Wooyoung, eyes narrowing, âThird of all, screw you. Two years, shut up.â
Wooyoung raises his arms in defense, lips tucked between his teeth to stop himself from giggling. San still looks surprised, cheeks pink, jaw slack and eyes wide, âIâ I donât know why Iâm so shocked that you admitted that so easily.â
âYouâre acting like Iâve never had a boyfriend before,â you close the clasp on your purse, âI may have not fucked in two years but Iâve fucked plenty.â Looking at Wooyoung again, you ask, âCan I wear your Chrome Hearts jacket? The leather one?â
Wooyoung nods with his face scrunched like it was no biggie before asking, âSo are we expecting you home tonight or what?â
âWhy are you being so adamant about this?â Your eyes bounce between them, lingering on Sanâs cheeks that deepen by the minute, âI donât know yet, jeez. What time is it?â
San scrambles for his phone, âHeâll be here in ten.â
As if Yunho himself was in your bedroom with the three of you, the doorbell rang. Your eyes widen, âShit, heâs early.â
âWeâll distract him,â Wooyoung grabs your waist to move you to the side as he stands, rushing out of your room to greet Yunho at the door. Sweetie jumps off the bed next, following him, probably thinking something exciting was happening, and San mimics the two as the third musketeer.
Your finishing touches, extra deodorant, more perfume for good luck, a little lip gloss, a few fluffs to your hair. You caught yourself in the mirror again before leaving, doing another three-sixty, viewing yourself from every angle possible without twisting into a pretzel. Scrunching your lips, you stare at your own face, something still didnât feel right. You hated when your gut was telling you something, but didnât say what it was.
The three are in the kitchen, four if you count Sweetie, mid-conversation as your heels announce your presence before you breathe a word. Meeting Sanâs eye and then Wooyoungâs, both stared at you in awe, affection sparkling in their dark eyes, like theyâd never seen you so dressed up before. Sweetie is at Yunhoâs feet, the six foot man crouched into a hunched-over ball, hands scratching the dogâs ears until he sees you.Â
âWow,â he stands, black slacks on his long legs, a cream-colored button up on his upper half, brown jacket thrown over his arm. Black hair styled and off his forehead, he looked clean, crisp, handsome. âYou look beautiful.âÂ
Your face heats up, beaming as you say, âThanks, you look handsome, too.â
Wooyoung giggles like a child, you snap your head to sneer at him, catching San whoâs still staring at you fondly. Theyâre like your parents, chaperoning your first date like youâre a teenager.Â
Wooyoung skirts around the kitchen island, âYour jacket, milady.â
Rolling your eyes, you smile apologetically at Yunho who looks amused as Wooyoung drapes the leather jacket over your shoulders. Yunhoâs eye drops to the emblems on the sleeves as you slip your arms inside, the obvious Chrome Hearts crosses, the jacket Wooyoung paid an arm and a leg for. His eyes flicker before rising back to your gaze, face unreadable for a moment before he slaps the bright smile back on his cheeks.Â
âReady?â He asks after you pull your hair out from beneath the collar.Â
Nodding, you murmur, âYeah, âm ready.â
San and Wooyoung stay tucked into each other, watching like proud mothers as you wave your goodbye, wiggling your eyebrows. You blow a final kiss to Sweetie before youâre out the door, in the open air of an unforgiving February night, Yunhoâs car parked directly next to yours. He opens the door for you, closes it behind you, and heâs in the driverâs seat in a flash.Â
âHow are you?â He asks as he clasps his seatbelt and immediately youâre filled with the ick of inevitable awkwardness. You hated small talk, you hated this feeling, of a new relationship budding, of not automatically being at the oversharing-because-I-can stage.Â
But you respond politely, with a smile on your face that he couldnât see through, all the way to the fucking restaurant. A nice place, moody lighting, an obvious date night spot. Your table is off to the side, against the beige-colored wall, more private than the center of the restaurant, thankfully. The air between you is a little more congenial by the time youâve had a quarter of your fruity cocktail and thereâs food placed at the center of the white tablecloth.
âI love my kids,â you shake your head, swallowing down a bite of the appetizer he ordered, âtheyâre all great kids, itâs the parents that make me want to rip my hair out.â
Yunho laughs, an easygoing thing, and you smile when it reaches your ears. âTheyâre all bad?â
âNot all of them,â you respond, words practiced, almost scripted, at the point in date talk where you were discussing what you do for a living. Next comes future talk, if this went anything like the dates youâve been on in the past did. âJust the ones that nitpick everything I do, like they have any idea what theyâre talking about.â
Yunho nods, âItâs like that at my job, too. But not with parents, with clients, the ones who talk about artwork like it means something to them. I know they just think it looks cool and they want it on their wall, but thatâs enough, I mean, leave it at that. I understand not everyone is a connoisseur.â
Your grin widens, a giggle falling past your lips as you bring your glass up to catch it. You have to give it to him, heâs funny, but not as funny as Wooyoung. He doesnât look at you the way San looks at you, either.Â
By the time youâre halfway through your entree you know you arenât going home with him. You could possibly see him again, depending on how the second half of your entree goes, but the need to see him naked on top of you isnât quite there. A sweet guy, heart of gold, you know heâs a genuine friend, youâve had plenty of conversations with him before at your apartment during gatherings to know enough about his nature. But romantically, sexually, there isnât a spark in your veins, a sizzling to your blood, a dampening in your panties that makes you want more.Â
Heâs a great guyâ but heâs not for you.Â
âCan I ask you something?â Now a singular piece of chocolate cake between you accompanied by two silver forks, you nod as you dig the prongs into the triangular edge.Â
âYour jacket,â he raises his perfectly trimmed brows to the leather that hangs off the back of your chair, âitâs Wooyoungâs?âÂ
âDefinitely,â you nod furiously, without missing a beat, âyou know him and Chrome Hearts are in a very serious, very committed relationship.â The smile Yunho gives you in response doesnât completely reach his eyes. You pop a brow, âWhy?âÂ
His fork dances around the plate, âI donât know.â Setting it down softly, he leans back in the upholstered chair, âwearing his jacket on a first date, when heâs the one who set us up. I donât know.âÂ
Your head tilts, heat flooding you, the nervous kind. Confusion bites at the corners of your eyes as you blink at him, âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âCan I be frank?âÂ
âIâm pretty sure youâre Yunho, but sure.âÂ
Amusement huffs from his nose, but he doesnât exactly smile. âIs there anything going on between you?âÂ
You pause, mid-bite, cake millimeters from touching your tongue. Body going hot, your arm lowers slowly, âBetween who?â
âBetween you and Wooyoung. You and San. Both of them, I donât know.âÂ
Your brows shoot upward, jaw dropping, âWhat the fuck?â Looking around, noticing the eyes on you, you cover your mouth with your hand. You didnât realize the volume you cursed atâ you mumble an Iâm sorry sheepishly to the room around you.Â
âIâm serious,â Yunho leans forward again, and his eyes are so genuine it throws you for a loop. You knew your friendship with the pair was closer than the typical, a little strange at times, with the flirting and the touching and the looks. You knew how you felt about your roommates, your best friends, how thereâs a certain depth in the way they treat you, love and respect too raw to be faked, how it always makes your stomach pang with gratitude too deep to express.Â
âNo, Yunho.â You shake your head, fork landing on the small, ceramic plate. The words are short, not necessarily offended, but itâs clear the question didnât sit well. Your relationship with the two men, both a third of your being, is completely platonic.Â
Did it really seem like it wasnât?
âIâm sorry,â he shakes his head, eyes squeezed tight, regret oozing off of him. âI donât know why I asked you that, Iâm so sorry.âÂ
âItâs okay,â you try to laugh to ease the tension, but it comes off demeaning. Yunho stiffens, hands coming up to dig the pads of his fingers into his eyes. âIâm serious, itâs fine. I know weâre a little closer than your average roommates, but we donât fuck.âÂ
You could feel eyes in the room on you again, this time you ignore them. Yunhoâs hands leave his face, eyes cracking open, words escaping from his lips too quickly to have been thought about first, âYou never have? Not even with Sannie?âÂ
âNot even with Sannie, no. I havenât seen him naked since we were seven, weâve never once kissed, nothing.âÂ
Lies. Lies, lies, lies. You donât know why they spill from your lips like a waterfall, like you had to defend yourself. Maybe you were trying to convince yourself more than Yunho.Â
His brow pops like he asked the question just to receive your deception, âThatâs not true.âÂ
Taking you by complete surprise, your heart plummets, sputtering, âO-okay, wellââ
How did he know? He shouldnât know about your times in college, Sannie throwing you around the mattress with a boy from your English class. Or the handful of times with the girl from your contemporary dance class. Or the times youâve been each otherâs New Year's Kiss, or the times youâve messily made out in the corner of a frat house after he finished a keg-stand. It was all platonic, anyhow, so whittled down to ancient history it wasnât even worth bringing up.Â
âWhy lie if you arenât doing it still?âÂ
Your eyes widen. You donât know why you lied. You werenât expecting him to catch you in it. Your ears are on fire.Â
âIâm not lying!â It comes out louder than intended, too defensive, too full of quickly found, nervous anger. If you were honest with yourself, you thought about ancient history often, you thought about what it would have been like with Wooyoung involved too, yours and Sanâs missing link. A line you havenât crossed. You and San havenât touched each other since you were twenty-one.Â
But you still think about it. More than you should.Â
You empty a much needed breath, one heavy and long. You ignore the stares of the people around you. You try not to let Yunhoâs gaze be patronizing. You try not to feel the embarrassment radiating off of him.Â
âIâm sorry,â you mutter, head dropping down until your chin is tucked. âI donât know where that came from.âÂ
âI do,â Yunho says quietly, almost shakily, like heâs scared of saying the words that follow. âYou and them⊠you want it, donât you?âÂ
âWeâre just friends,â you nearly whisper, an unexplainable tightness in your chest. âRoommates,â you add, and it sounds like an insult.Â
He lays an open palm on the table, and you pick your head up to meet his soft smile, eyes full of sadness, pity. You take his hand anyway.Â
âYou should really tell them how you feel so this doesnât happen again.âÂ
How you feel?
How you feel?Â
You donât even know how you feel. You have memories that linger, a soft spot for the two men you spend all your time with that was the size of a crater. You have touches, eyes, words you werenât sure should mean more than they do. You have emotions, you have a fantasy you keep buried, you have a secret that would shatter you if it ever saw the light of day.
That line hung over your head the entire drive home. Yunho paid the bill, much to your dismay, you definitely didnât give him the best date of his life, but your argument was cut short by the reminder that you had bigger fish to fry. You needed the brain power for the thoughts thatâd keep you awake tonight, while your roommates were fast asleep in their rooms, unaware that you were pondering about the possibility of them ever being more.Â
Yunho parked beside your car again. Turning towards you, keeping the car running, he said, âI wonât say anything about tonight.â
âThanks,â you mutter in a breath, âIâm sorry again.âÂ
âDonât be,â Yunho shakes his head, laying a hand on your thigh to squeeze it encouragingly, âI hope it works out for you.âÂ
Giving him a weak smile, you unbuckle your seatbelt and let yourself out of the car, the stupid fucking heels on your feet clacking against the pavement. âDrive safe,â you say before closing the door behind you, and Yunho nods with a warm smile.Â
You face your apartment building with a pout. That could not have gone any fucking worse, and those two upstairs are going to do nothing but pester you for every single detail. Forcing a breath through your lips, you walk up the stone steps to your front door, bracing yourself for questions you canât answer as you push it open.Â
The apartment was quiet, lights dim, you slipped your heels off upon entering, dangling them from your fingers. Sweetie didnât greet you, very unlike him, but maybe he was asleep at this hourâ with the frenzy in your mind you didn't realize it wasnât late at all. You took the corner around your foyer to reach the living room, and the sight before you had a shriek ripping from your chest, eyes blowing wide, heart positively dropping into your ass.Â
On your living room couch, brown leather, wrinkled and weathered from years of use, was Wooyoung, shirtless, lip locked with a shirtless San beneath him. Bronzy, sculpted chests pressed together, veiny hands in dark hair, spit-stained lips messily tangled, Wooyoungâs toned hips were rutting against Sanâs before your shriek bursted their bubble.Â
They broke apart like teenagers getting caught, Wooyoung so surprised he launched off of Sanâs lap and onto the fucking floor. âShy!â San yelped, as shocked as you are, gaze panic-stricken as it bounced between you and Wooyoung, he stood up instinctively.Â
Your insides felt like weeds. Tangled up, knotted together beyond belief, the air in your lungs was gone, there wasnât enough oxygen in the closing room to fill them. You stared as Wooyoung blew his hair off his face, leaning back on his elbows on the floor, legs bent up and spread, denim unzipped, sporting a tent in the pocket of his undone fly.Â
San was no better. Undeniably hard, droplets of wetness on his low hanging gray sweats, skin red and splotchy, glowing with a sheer sheen of sweat. His hair was fucked up, as was Wooyoungâs, sticking out in every direction, curled where fingers had been rooted.Â
Wooyoungâs lips curled in a lazy grin, âYouâre home early.âÂ
Your hands are shaking. You think if you take one step, your knees will buckle. This feels like betrayal. Your skin is fire-hot, body buzzing with confusion, shock, rage, hurtâ you were out on a date they set up for you, while they were at home fucking?! Did they just want you out of the apartment for the night? How long have they been hooking up?
You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, you can feel every ounce of blood thrashing beneath your skin like your heart was the eye of a hurricane.Â
Your vision blurs, words coming out short, âI-I donâtââ shaking your head, you move in the direction of your bedroom. Sweetieâs at your side, you donât know where he even came from, you donât have the heart to greet him. Under your breath you mutter, âIâm going to bed.âÂ
âShy,â San calls after you, his voice strained. A little louder, a little harsher, he tries again, âShy!â
You close your bedroom door and flatten your back against it, breath leaving you in tremors, palms shaky against the wood behind you. Sweetie is at your feet, dancing on his paws, whimpering for some form of attention from you, sensing all the emotion in your chest.Â
You sink down until your ass meets the floor, eyes focused on nothing, hands mindlessly reaching for Sweetie as your brain replays everything you just saw. Wooyoungâs back arching his chest into Sanâs, Sanâs tongue slipping between Wooyoungâs lips, one hand on Wooyoungâs thigh while the other tugged at his hair. Wooyoungâs hips rolling against him, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, a shakiness to his lean body that could only be perceived as need. This was not the first time theyâve done that.Â
Your chin tilts upward as Sweetie licks your cheeks, you didnât realize silent tears poured down them, dripping from your jaw. You couldnât deny it nowâ everything Yunho insinuated, everything he said, how witnessing those two together made you feel. You wanted them. You wanted to be in the middle. You wanted their lips and hands on you just as much as you wanted to watch them touch each other.Â
Fuck.Â
You canât pretend like your feelings donât exist anymore. Half the reason you didnât want to go tonight was because you wished they were taking you out, instead. You wished they begged you to stay home, with them, watching movies curled up on the couch, just to end up how they did without you. Without you. There wasnât any room for you, they had a relationship on their own. They left you out of it. They set you up with someone else so they could have each other.Â
It hurts like a knife to your gut.Â
You can hear them whispering through the walls. You canât make out a word, but they sound like theyâre arguing, or debating. Then itâs quiet.Â
Sweetie whimpers again. You pouted at him, his precious face seemed like it was pouting back at you. âItâs okay,â you reassure the puppy, hands cupping his face, scratching behind his ears, âIâm okay, I promise.âÂ
Wiping your tears, heaving a breath, you push yourself up, leaving your heels thrown beside the door where you dropped them. You tug the leather off your shoulders, hanging it in your closetâ you didnât have the heart to give it back to him right now, but it was too expensive to throw haphazardly on your gaming chair.Â
After pulling out pajamas, you reached for your zipper, but you couldnât reach it to get it down. You tried again, folding your arms behind you, fingers touching, zipper out of reach. You curse under your breath, shoulders strained, it hurt, your breathing picks up again in frustration.Â
Sweetie jumps on your bed, watching you. It seemed he felt pity for you, too, sitting on his back legs, head tilted as watches how pathetic you lookedâ the tears bubbled up again.Â
San knocks on your door twice. You know itâs him because the knocks are soft, gentle, Wooyoung would have just barged inside after a slew of obnoxious knocks of his knuckles. You didnât want to see either of them right now.Â
âLet me get your zipper.âÂ
Your arms unfold from your back, hands planting against the mattress beside Sweetie, head dropping as a defeated sob silently rips from your throat. The black labâs nose nuzzles in your hair as you force the tears back in, back down, away.Â
San opens the door without waiting for your response. You canât see him eye the pair of heels on your floor, picking them up, placing them in front of your wide closet, you keep your eyes on the white comforter, laser focused on keeping your emotion locked up. On silent feet he comes up behind you, moving your hair out of the way, deft fingers slowly pulling your zipper down your back.Â
âDo you want to talk about it?â His voice is as soft as his movements, tender, like if he spoke the wrong word youâd crumble in his hands. You shake your head, sniffing. His sigh is light, apologetic, âWe didnât think youâd be home so early.âÂ
âItâs okay, Iâm fine. The date just didnât go as planned,â your voice is nasally from how much snot had formed in your sinuses. You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, standing up, turning to look at him. Still shirtless, skin still red and splotchy, the only difference now was that his face was filled with concern instead of shock. âIâm sorry I broke up your date night.âÂ
He shakes his head fervently, âYou didnât break up anything, Shygirl, what happened on your date? You didnât like Yunho? Are you okay? Did he do anythingââ
A sharp chuckle tumbles past your lips, you look off to the side, shaking your head. âI donât wanna talk about it, I just wanna go to sleep.âÂ
You can feel the cool air of your bedroom on your bare back. You feel exposed, despite being naked in front of him so many times in your life, despite standing before him in a bra and underwear just hours earlier. You cross your arms over your chest. âGo back to Wooyoung.âÂ
His lips tighten, but he nods, eyes searching your face for something he canât find. Itâs clear he doesnât know what to do.Â
âWeâll talk about it tomorrow, okay?âÂ
You nod, looking up at him just as another hot tear slips down your cheek. He raises a hand to cup your cheek, to wipe your tear away with his thumb, but you pull away. His eyes widen ever so slightly, youâve never once pulled away from his touch. He doesnât press it, instead he turns on his heel, leaving your room, closing the door behind him gently, knowing space was what you needed, even if he wished you needed him.Â
You felt better in comfy clothes, curled up in your bed, Sweetie snoring softly beside you, his head basically on your pillow. You tried to focus on that, how his shiny black coat rose and fell with each breath, how he stayed by your side because he knew you needed comfort. Your brain was too muddled to pick apart each and every emotion you were feeling, there were too many, too blended together.Â
But you definitely tried, for each hour you were supposed to be asleep.Â
The studio is quiet.
Rehearsal finished for the night, all of your kids home by now, probably doing last-minute homework or showering before school tomorrow, you donât know what youâre still doing here. The floors are mopped, the mirrors wiped down, the speaker is off and plugged in, your laptop and charger tucked away in your tote. Sitting on the floor of your studio, criss-cross-applesauce, you leaned back on your palms, chin tipped up to the ceiling.Â
Itâs been a week since you found out your two best friends, your roommates, the two people you now know youâre in love with, are in a relationship. You truly have no idea how you got away from their barrage of questions unscathed, the two men want to know every detail of your life on a regular Tuesday, let alone when you come home crying after a date. You put your deceptive shoes on, straightened your back, and blamed every single one of your tears on how sad you were about it not working out with Yunho.Â
Truth was, you havenât spared the date with Yunho a single thought since you came home to see them making out on the couch. Since then, itâs been a constant fight convincing yourself everything was fine. In reality, everything was fine, youâre healthy, youâre stable, you have a puppy at home that still pees a little out of excitement when you walk through the front door.Â
You just couldnât have what you wanted most, and youâre not a child anymore. Wooyoung and San seem so happy together, attached at the hip, pressing soft kisses to each otherâs lips randomly, giggling at something the other said, so lovesick and ignorant to how shitty it all made you feel, you couldnât be mad. You tried your hardest not to be upset.Â
As if youâve been onstage for a week now, itâs felt like seven days of constant performance. Wearing the mask, playing the part of a perfectly-okay-girl, not letting them peer inside to see your heart shredded beneath your ribs. There was still a part of you that was disappointed they couldnât see through the charade, they knew you better than anyone else, too occupied with one another to make an effort in seeing the truth.Â
âWhat are you still doing here?â
You picked your head up, wide-eyed as you glanced at Wooyoung in the doorway, holding a silver ring of multi-colored keys around his pointer finger. Gray sweats, hoodie on top, a black puffer layered over it, sneakers on his feet half-tied. His hair laid messy over his cheekbones, forced down flat beneath the deep red hood, the color compliments him. You think every color in his closet compliments him.Â
âHello? Shygirl?â Heâs smiling now, taking a few steps inside the studio, eyes raking over your frozen form. He pushes the ring of keys inside the pocket of his puffer as he gets closer, bending down at the knees, the backs of his thighs tucked to his calves.Â
âJust thinkinâ,â you smile weakly, head rolling to the side, cheek landing on your shoulder. Heâs so pretty, barefaced, skin clear and soft and beautiful. Shadowed beneath his hood he looks even more breathtaking, the hollows of his cheeks prominent, the freckle under his eye appearing darker.Â
With a heavy breath he leans backward, landing on his ass, arms stretched out behind him, mimicking the same way you sat. His legs longer than yours, they straighten out in front of him, feet tangled between where yours sat strategically. Always close, never close enough.Â
âAbout what?â He tilts his head. âCompetition?â
Yeah, that sounds good enough. You nod and he begins his encouraging monologue all over again, softness in his tone, a determined edge of confidence, youâve heard it all before. You didnât care to listen to the details.Â
âOkay, be serious, whatâs up?â He reigns in his knees, wrapping his arms around them, leaning forward, brows furrowed. âYouâve been off all week, Shy. I know itâs not dance-related.â
You give him a weak, disappointed smile, shaking your head. The worst, shittiest excuse comes to mind, but youâd rather use any excuse than tell him why shrapnel floated through your blood, pieces of your heart that shattered beyond repair a week ago. âIâm just getting my period, Iâm in my head, thatâs all.â
He pouts, âYou swear?â
You nod, eyes heavy, âI swear.â
It doesnât even feel bad to lie. Maybe youâre tired of wearing the mask. Tired of feeling.
âWanna dance with me?â
Your eyes flicker up to him, a question in your lifted brow. âDance?â
His grin has turned mischievous, lopsided eyes thinning with the giddiness on his cheeks, he plants his palms on the floor to push himself up, throwing his puffer to the side as he walks to the speaker in the corner of the room. Turning it on, static catching as he plugged in his phone, he looked over his shoulder to ask, âWhat song?â
âWoo,â you shake your head, âI donât want toââ
âCome on,â he looks back at his phone screen, you can only assume heâs scrolling through his liked songs on Spotify, âyour endorphins are in jail right now, they need to be released.â
Your lips tighten, he leaves no room to argue. He never does.Â
Ain't another woman that can take your spot, myâŠ
He turns with the same feline grin as bass pounds through the room. He turned the volume up on the speaker, the building empty, no one lingering around to hear it.Â
Your brows raise, a smile begging to curve your lips, âJustin Timberlake? Really?â
âGet up!â He yells, chest pumping to each beat, limbs fluid as his feet glide in your direction, âItâs just you and me, Shy-Shy. Come on.â
You push yourself up off the marley flooring reluctantly, and then you hear his voice.Â
âIf I wrote you a symphony, just to say how much you mean to me,â he grabs your hands as soon as you get your footing, a scowl on your face as he pulls you towards him, âIf I told you you were beautiful, would you date me on the regular?â
You canât fight the smile that creeps over your cheeks this time, letting him guide you to the center of the room, still fighting your instinct that begs your body to move to the beat of the song. Bodies facing the mirror that stretches from one wall to the other, he glides behind you, his right hand still over yours, freeing your left.
âI can see us holdin' hands, walkin' on the beach, our toes in the sand. I can see us on the country side, sittin' on the grass, layin' side by side,â still holding your hand, you sing with him as he guides you, his left hand on your hip. âYou can be my baby, let me make you my lady, girl, you amaze me. Ain't gotta do nothin' crazy, see, all I want you to do is be my love.â
Youâre giggling at first, moving with him, singing loudly in the studio, until he spins you around, two hands on your hips, holding you close.Â
Ain't another woman that could take your spot, my loveâŠ
Your smile falters, lips parting as you stare up at him, breath stolen from your chest. His hoodie had fallen, leaving his hair visibly messy over his face, a smile so true, chocolate eyes holding half of your heart, you remember who he is. Jung Wooyoung, roommate, best friend, coworker, heâs so many things to you, but not yours.Â
Is this some kind of sick joke?
Like he can read your thoughts, like heâs trying to make you forget, he twists you back around. Two hands on your hips, knees bent and legs spread, you follow suit, watching each other in the mirror. Your outfits look planned, your sweats baggy and low, hoodie tucked up, hair that was once in a bun now halfway spilling down your cheeks, you let your body flow. Allowing your mind to go blank, you let yourself feel the music, your hips sway with his, your movements clean, you dance together like you choreographed it.Â
âThere you go,â heâs grinning again, nodding, encouraging, âmy love, my love, my love.â
Four minutes and thirty-six seconds feels like a lifetime, yet no time at all. You and Wooyoung, your bluetoothed brains, and Justin Timberlake in the studio nearing eleven at night, you ended the song out of breath, staring at each other from feet away, as if youâre twenty-five all over again when San had just opened the studio. Brain cleared, endorphins released, you did feel lighterâ not better, but lighter, like Wooyoung reached into your mind and took the edge off himself.Â
âFeel better?â Heâs smiling, chest heaving, hands on his hips, one knee bent with the other holding his weight.Â
You nod, tugging on your ponytail to free your hair, just to pull it up all over again. Walking toward him, youâre still out of breath, âWe should have recorded that.â
âWe can do it again,â he offers, âalthough I donât think weâll ever reach that level of synchronicity without choreography again.â
You laugh, a lighthearted thing, âNo, I think that was the extent of our bluetooth abilities.â
He takes a step forward, throwing his arms out to wrap around you, pulling you into his chest, pressing a kiss into your forehead. âI missed dancing with you.â
He smells like home, woodsy, spicy, sweatyâ you canât help the way you drink him in, letting the smell of him calm something primal, something integral in your soul.Â
Wooyoung is convinced youâre the only person in the world that can steal the breath from his lungs just by looking at him. Your arms wrapped around his torso, chin tucked into his chest, looking up at him with those big eyes he could get lost in, his breath catching in his throat is a verbal sound. He can feel the heat in the base of his spine, he settles into your touch as it spreads through him like wildfire, his heart picking up speed, pounding harder against his chest.
Holding you like this, wanting you like this, like he has since the day he first saw youâ around a fire, in the backyard of a house party at Seonghwaâs place, sat next to San with a cute, shy little smile on your cheeks. He thought you were Sanâs girlfriend, he assumed it from the way you looked at each other, spoke to each other. Stars in your eyes, a soft, comforting tenderness in your voice that turned your words into song, Wooyoung thought heâd lost before he even entered the game.
But then he watched San leave your side for the pretty brunette from his dance class, the guy Wooyoung kept his eye on, taller than San, muscular, beautiful. Mere minutes went by before San kissed him, and even if San was shorter, smaller, Wooyoung watched as he dominated the kiss, hands in his hair, making the taller man cower for him. Obey him, even just in a kiss.Â
Then you stood, sauntering over in your ripped denim that hugged your ass perfectly, one hand on Sanâs shoulder had him pulling away fully, dimples out in a smile, face flushed with a hazy, lustful stare. You talked, talked, and talked before San was grabbing you by the hand, the man following behind you both as you left. The three of you, together, you left together.
Wooyoung was left confusedâ aroused, curious, hopeful, but still so fucking confused. He asked around, Yeosang told him the nature of your relationship, that Sanâs known you forever, that you do that sometimes. Casually. You werenât datingâ but you fucked. Other people. Together.Â
Wooyoung wanted to be next.Â
He wanted you. He wanted San. He wanted both of you. Carnally.Â
But that day never came. He formed a friendship with you easily, with San easily, the three of you becoming a trio that did everything together, but your hobby, your past-time after a party, never included him. In fact, it stopped altogether when Wooyoung became involved.
Itâs not like he didnât try, heâs flirty by nature, it comes as easily to him as breathing, but eventually he accepted that your relationship, your friendship, had taken root in something platonic. It bloomed into the best thing thatâs ever happened to him, two people that love him fully, unconditionally, but by the time he moved into your shared apartment, he had to pluck the petals off the basis of his interestâ his arousal, his want, his need, tucked away in his back pocket like it was never there to begin with.Â
It became easy, over time, until San kissed him for the first time, restarting all the work heâs done, placing him back at square one. Three in the morning in the kitchen of the apartment, the only light over the sink, dimmed and low, San took Wooyoung by his cheeks and made him feel like San wanted him the whole time, too.Â
And he did, Wooyoung learned. And he still wanted you. So did Wooyoung.Â
âI missed it, too,â you whisper, your face too close, he has to swallow down his instinct, every fiber of his being that tells him to fucking kiss you. Dancing with you, itâs something the two of you used to do often when San first opened the studio, when you werenât as busy, as successful as you are now.Â
Sometimes San was included, in the corner of the room, correcting your form with a smile on his dimpled cheeks, amusement on his tongue, sometimes he was dancing with you, too. Late into the night, sometimes a few seltzers added into the mix, those nights Wooyoung could have sworn there was an understanding between the three of you, that there was a layer of arousal, of want, those nights Wooyoung prayed to a god he didnât believe in that youâd repeat history with him. For him. The way you looked at him, the glint in your eye, even now, more often than not you looked at Wooyoung like you wanted him to pin you to the floor beneath you.Â
For years that look has given him hope, that eventually something will happen, something will bloom between the three of you. It wonât just be him and San pining over you while they try to fill the gap with each other.
He hasnât seen that look once since you caught him with San. You said you were fine, okay, that their relationship doesnât bother you, that youâre happy for themâ and thereâs truth to it somewhere, Wooyoung assumes the truth is mixed into the lies, that you werenât completely bullshitting him, the only reason they tried to set you up with Yunho is because they were convinced itâd never happen with you. They gave up. At least Yunho was a nice guy.Â
His arms lift from your shoulders to push your hair away from your face, stray pieces that had fallen even if youâd just put it up, barefaced, maybe some mascara on your lashes, heâs stunned the way he always is. So beautiful it makes his stomach hurt, your skin soft in his palms, warm in such an inviting way, he doesnât want to let go. His voice tumbles out small, âYouâre so pretty, Shy.â
Your heart skips a beat in your chest. His eyes look so soft, a fond smile on his lips while his eyes glance at yours like he was going to kiss you, while he looks at you like he loves you, he does love youâ itâs different. It looks different. Chest turning tight, stomach doing a flip, your arms uncurl from around his waist, you break away from him quickly like he burned you, the loss of warmth hits hard even if you were the one who enforced it. âYou shouldnât do that,â your tone comes out harsher than you wanted it to, voice slightly broken, stressed. Panicked.Â
Wooyoungâs brows furrow, âWhat? I- Shy.â
âItâs disrespectful,â you donât know why youâre speaking, where this is coming from. Your throat is tight, heart pounding against your breastplate, you bring your hand up to lay where itâs bursting from your chest. âYou canât do things like that anymore, Woo,â youâre avoiding his eye, head shaking rapidly, voice panicked and wary beyond control, ânot anymore.â
âI made her hate me because I couldnât control myself.â
Wooyoung is pacing around Sanâs room, shirtless, his hair sticking out in every which way atop his head, oily after work, even more so from how many times heâs ran his hands through it. San, on his bed, also shirtless, briefs loose on his hips, wears furrowed brows and a solemn downcurve of his lips after hearing the story Wooyoung frantically woke him up to tell him.Â
The younger man ripped his hoodie and his tee off his upper half upon entering the room, crawling onto Sanâs bed, shaking him awake. Eyes barely closed, heâd just fallen asleep, blinked awake upon the first shake of his shoulders, âWoo? Whatâs wrong? Are you okay?â
âI think Shy hates me,â his face was red even in Sanâs dark room, brows furrowed and voice panicked in a way he hadn't heard in a long time.Â
San sits up halfway, turning over to face Wooyoung, âWhat? No she doesnât, what happened?â
âWe were at the studio, we danced, I called her pretty and she freaked out,â Wooyoung sits back, his breaths quick and uneven between his words, he toys with his fingers in his lap, eyes wide, blinking rapidly. âShe called me disrespectful, Sannie, she said I canât do that anymore, I donât know what happened San, Iââ
âBaby,â San reaches to put a hand on his cheek, taking note of how hot he felt, âcalm down, breathe. Donât say anything, breathe with me for a few and then we can talk, okay?â
Wooyoungâs first breath is shaky, panicked, like he couldnât suck down air fast enough, couldnât get it deep enough. San sits up fully, pressing a hand onto his diaphragm, keeping the other soft on his cheek, âBreathe, baby.â
A few counted breaths until he sounded even, one singular hot tear rolling down his cheek onto Sanâs palm, the older man leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. âNo matter what, she doesnât hate you, okay? Tell me what happened.â
Wooyoung takes another two breaths before speaking, telling him the story from the start. How you looked at him like you were offended, like heâd just done the worst thing in the world, how you didnât speak to him the entire subway ride home. How when you walked inside the apartment you barely greeted Sweetie, instead you silently gave him a treat from the counter before bringing him to your room, closing the door behind you. You didnât even look at him, like he wasnât beside you the whole time.Â
Mid-story heâd jumped off the bed, began pacing back and forth on Sanâs carpeted bedroom floor, speaking a mile a minute, each word edged with panic like heâd done something despicable.Â
âShe hates me,â he finally stood in the middle of the room, voice cracking, âI made her hate me because I couldnât control myself.â
âNo, Woo,â San shakes his head, voice soft and comforting, âknowing her, she thinks our dynamic changed. To her, weâre off-limits now, we canât act the way we always have, canât flirt and touch and do all the things that make us, us.â
He starts pacing again, hands running through his hair, tugging at his roots. San can barely see more than his shadow in his dark room, but he doesnât need to see to know what look is on Wooyoungâs face, how his brows tie together, how he tucks his lips together, face splotched red.Â
âI donât want that!â Wooyoung keeps his voice a low cry, âI donât want us to change. This isnât what I wanted to happen, I want her to want us, I want her.â
âCome here,â San keeps his voice calm, steady. Wooyoung walks over, standing between Sanâs legs, one of his hands still in his hair. San leans forward, plants his palms on Wooyoungâs hips, âShe has no idea how we feel about her, Woo. Sheâs trying to be fair, to keep her distance so she doesnât hurt either of us. You know how her head works, baby.â
âWhat if she doesnât forgive me?â The way his voice breaks is like a shot through Sanâs heart. But San knows you better, he knows your mind, knows your soul, heâs known you since you gained consciousness, heâs watched them form, learned you as you grew.
âThereâs nothing to forgive you for, baby,â San whispers, tugging the younger man towards him, forcing his knees onto the bed, to bracket around his hips. He brings a hand up, petting his hair, sliding down to cup Wooyoungâs cheek, bringing him closer, âEverything is okay.â
Wooyoung presses his lips into Sanâs, hands landing on his broad shoulders, his body melting into Sanâs touch, finding comfort in his hard, broad body, his own sinking into him. Wooyoungâs hands travel to find his neck, his cheeks, deepening the kiss, his tongue poking out to slide into Sanâs mouth, still light, steady.Â
Until Sanâs length twitches under Wooyoung, making the younger man smile into his mouth, âYeah? Hard already?â
âDonât tease me,â San is breathless, their lips still touching, âIâm supposed to be making you feel better.â
âAh,â Wooyoungâs tone is still teasing, his grin spreading into a smirk, âI know how you can make me feel better.â
San snorts, head tipping back until he falls back onto the bed, letting Wooyoung crawl on top of him, his head tilting as Wooyoung leans his head down, pressing a kiss to one of Sanâs pecs, soft hands roaming his torso. Body shivering, San keeps his voice light, âDid you freak out just to fuck me? A ploy, huh?â
San can make the outline of Wooyoungâs scowl as he stares up at him, making San chuckle, Wooyoung bites down on his skin and he hisses. âI was stressed,â Wooyoungâs voice is sharp, âI still am stressed, but now Iâm kinda horny and itâs your fault.â
San laughs again, hands coming up to tangle in Wooyoungâs hair, pulling him upward, âIâm sorry baby, I'll fix it for you, yeah?â
Thirty minutes rolling around in the sheets, keeping their voices quiet, their movements slow but not any less tantalizing, Wooyoung is filled, sated, skin sticky against Sanâs as he lays on the older manâs chest, dozing off to the sound of his heartbeat.Â
Despite being woken up by Wooyoung, itâs harder for San to find sleep now, mind muddled with thoughts about you. Analyzing Wooyoungâs story, the details, how you looked at himâ he wondered if there was a small chance you felt the same way towards them.Â
While you were still in college, you and San had moments where lines blurred, he can still remember the nights where you brought someone home just to barely touch them. So wrapped up in each other, lost in pleasure, you almost forgot there was a third person there to play with. It didnât just happen once, not even twice, it happened enough times to where you had to stop after the third person left angry and unsatisfied, an unsettling feeling floating around the room that neither of you had the balls to address.Â
Always light, always casual, you explored pleasure together, different positions, different kinks, different dynamics for so longâ he blamed those days on you two being young, horny, rabid animals, looking for a good fuck, a new skill to add to your arsenal. It was around the time you two met Wooyoung, San thinks, when that night happened, the last time you touched each other sexually. Still to this day, unspoken, swept beneath the rug.Â
San sometimes wonders if the lines blurred sooner, heâs loved you since you were young, in high school even, itâs petrified him since he was a teenager to tell you how he feels. What if you donât feel the same way? What if he told you, and your friendship ended? He couldnât bear a life without you, he doesnât know a life without you.Â
Maybe he figured one day his feelings would dissipate into thin air, that he didnât need you to love him back, that as long as he never told you, youâd still be friends. But then you fucked. And then you fucked again. And you kept fucking until San realized heâd never be satisfied with anyone else, that he needed you, he needed you to love him back, he needed to treat you how you deserved.Â
 When you stared at him with wide eyes, crawled off the bed with shaky legs, retreating back to your room without a word, San almost laughed at himself. At his feelings. Because why would you ever love him back? He's watched you grow up, each phase, your best and your worst, thatâs friend zone material, at least in his younger, twenty-something year old mind.Â
But you never grew apart. And after the fucking stopped, the makeouts, the lazy hookups, the people you both thought were sexy and sought out together, it seemed to have added yet another layer of strength to your relationship. Vulnerability. A closeness you should never, ever have with a friend as close as you two are, it never ends well.Â
Years later, still in the same boat. He still loves you the same. He still wants you the same. Somehow he got comfortable without the intimacyâ or without the sexual aspect, he should say, because your relationship was full of intimacy. It never really bothered him, he never really yearned for more, until it was three in the morning and he had his fist wrapped around his cock with only you in his mind.Â
Then he had Wooyoung, the sole person heâs entrusted with his feelings, sputtering words between Wooyoungâs tongue pushing between his lips, so obviously confessing feelings that heâs kept trapped inside for over a decade, just to find out Wooyoung feels the same way. That heâs also wanted you since he laid eyes on you.Â
It was confusing, the lack of possession, of jealousy in his gut. He already knew he wanted Wooyoung, living with the younger man only made him love him more, their friendship was already blurring lines the day they met. For awhile San thought maybe you felt it too, that maybe you saw how Wooyoung looked at you, maybe you realized San had never started treating you differently. That he loved you, that Wooyoung loved you, and it wasnât all platonic.Â
He wonders if you love them back. If thereâs even a small, microscopic part of you that wants them, more than friendship, more than sex, even. Not that heâd decline you if you proposed sleeping together. For a week now, your sparkâs been gone, the twinkle in your big, doe eyes you wear like an accessory was replaced with something dull, something sad. You blamed it on the date with Yunhoâ but was that really the truth? You barely told them any details, you kept it vague, you even blamed that on not wanting to think about it, talk about it.Â
As he settles into the mattress beneath Wooyoung, one arm curled up to hold his head close to his chest, he wonders if youâre asleep in the other room, dreaming of more, too.Â
âItâs fine,â you smile weakly at Wooyoung whose head is burrowing into your chest like heâd crawl inside and make a home there if you let him. âIâm sorry I gave you the silent treatment, I just freaked out a little.â
His voice is muffled by your hoodie, your chest that his head was buried in, âDonât apologize, please donât apologize to me, Iâm the one whoâs sorry.â
âWoo,â you forced out a chuckle, flexing your body on the old, brown leather couch that he was forcing you deeper into, âlook at me.â
He picks his head up, his pretty, bronzy, bare face is littered by splotches of cherry. You ruffle his hair, smelling your shampoo, a blend of grapefruit and vanilla, âIâm not mad, itâs fine. Letâs just be done with it, put it past us, okay?â
Wooyoung pouts, but he nods, then lays back on your chest all over again. You groan, shifting your body to get comfortable under his weight, wondering how the fuck they were hooking up on this thing when you have to fight for your life to get comfortable on it.
âSannie,â you shout into the open, living room air, âcome get your boyfriend off of me!âÂ
Wooyoung gasps, picking his head up to shout towards the hallway, âDonât! Iâm exactly where I want to be.âÂ
Your head tips back in a laugh, knees bent up on either side of his body thatâs dead weight on top of you, arms caging you in against the couch. âYouâre ridiculous, you know that?âÂ
âYouâre warm, let me stay,â he nuzzles his head into your hoodie further, his voice a sated mumble.Â
You smack your teeth, eyeing the pink princess blanket between your bodies, âYouâre laying on top of the blanket and you donât have clothes on.âÂ
Shirtless, briefs on his legs, he snickers, guilty as charged. âYouâre the only heat I need, baby.âÂ
âWoo.âÂ
âToo soon?â He picks his head up, brows lifted and eyes apologetic, âIâm sorry.âÂ
San comes out of the hallway, fresh out of the shower, droplets of water sinking down his temples, onto his bare shoulders, his chest from his still-soaked hair. It makes your breath stutter in your chest the way it always does, heâs so effortlessly perfect it makes you miss touching him, feeling his soft skin beneath your fingers, sinking your nails into his strong, hard muscles. He smiles when he sees you, dimples prominent, he says nothing as he crosses the room with bare feet, nothing on his body but gray sweats on his legs.Â
âDonât you dare,â you warn, seeing the twinkle of mischief in his eye, how his grin turns from soft to playful.Â
He ignores you by crawling onto the couch, shoving you into the back of it so he can take up the side, the couch just big enough to squeeze the three of you, only if Sanâs strength is on the outside to keep you boxed in.
You yelp as your body sinks into the couch, âSan! I was comfortable.âÂ
âYouâre only comfortable on the L part,â San quips, body nuzzling into yours, Wooyoung giggling from below you. Â
âThe chaise?â You snort, eyes flickering up to his that stare right back, âweâve had two sectionals since we got this apartment, and you donât know itâs called a chaise?âÂ
He giggles, âI donât care what itâs called, I just know that you like it.âÂ
âAnd you only sit in the corner,â Wooyoung adds, his head sinking down to lay on your stomach. Your ankles cross over his back as his arms curl under yours, more comfortable now that youâre tangled, his arms taking pressure off your lower back.Â
âLetâs stay like this forever,â San doesnât give you time to answer, squeezing in closer, pushing you and Wooyoung further to the back of the couch. He smells like his bodywash, sweet and soft, you would stay forever if you could.Â
Your voice comes out strangled under the pressure of his body, âWeâre gonna have to, because soon Iâll be dead. Youâre gonna kill me if you keep pushing me into the couch, Sannie.âÂ
âI just want to keep you here,â he pouts, squishing his face closer until his nose presses against your cheek, âif I let you go, youâll run away.âÂ
His wet hair bleeds into the pillow, quickly spreading to where your head lays, it brushes against the side of your head the closer he gets, itâs cold. You squirm, âYour hair is freezing, Sannie, holy shit, thereâs too much happening right now.âÂ
San whines, but he rolls off the couch, landing on one steady foot, standing up. You suck in a breath, but your pillowâs already soiled, you frown. He grins.Â
âIâm going to the studio,â he says swiftly, âcome with me, I have a few things to do before the day starts.â
You groan, lip lifting in protest, âI donât have a rehearsal âtil six.â
âLucky,â Wooyoung mumbles, âMineâs at four.â
âI know when yours is,â you mumble back, âI was gonna enjoy my alone time.â
âFreak,â San teases, a smile playing on his lips, amused at what he insinuated.
Wooyoungâs laugh is loud, piercing through the room, âThat was a good one.â
Your brows raise, deadpanning, âAnd what if youâre right, hm? What then?â
They both turn to look at you, faces serious, both silently asking really?
Itâs your turn to laugh, head tipping back into the pillow, and they both groan, San walking away, Wooyoung pushing off of you. It makes you laugh harder, talking through it, âCome on, that was a good one, you should have seen your faces.â
âAre you seriously not gonna come?â San, brows raised, asks from the entry to the hallway. âWe can stop for food on the way, the three of us can hangout before everyone else shows up.â
You make a show of shaking your head back and forth, âI have shit to do here before work.â
Wooyoung smacks his teeth, âLike what? Laundry?â
You flatten your lips, âHave you seen the mountain of clothes in my room?â
San snorts, disappearing into the hallway, and Wooyoung finally climbs off the couch, âFine, do your laundry, but I know youâll miss us.â
âIâll miss you so bad,â youâre wearing a smile now, watching him with lazy eyes as he follows behind San into the hallway, disappearing into the shadow of the walls.Â
Your smile falters, settling, before a frown takes its place. Soon enough, probably sooner than you think, youâre sure you wonât be able to do this anymoreâ spend so much time with them, cuddle with them, live with them, eventually theyâll grow sick of you, theyâll only want each other.Â
Thereâs already no room for you in their relationship, and with time, youâre sure the space theyâve carved out for you will dwindle to nothing. Looking across the room, you find Sweetie sunbathing beneath the window, his head politely tucked over his paws, the sun casting a shiny glow over his black coat, the sight makes you smile. You call him over and immediately heâs jumping onto the couch, laying on you where Wooyoung had just been, replacing the warmth heâd ripped away.Â
âAt least I have you,â you whisper, smiling, fingers scratching under his ears.Â
âYunho!â Wooyoung all but whispers, his loud voice carrying down the aisle, perking his tall friendsâ ears. The older man whips his head around in confusion, smiling when he sees Wooyoung and San, giving them a small wave before walking down the aisle to greet them properly.
Stopping in a mid-sized corner store, the halfway point between the studio and home, San made good on his promise to pick up food on the way into work; Wooyoung was already giddy before seeing Yunho, this corner store was his favorite, it sold his favorite energy drink.Â
âWhatsup?â Yunhoâs grin is wide as he clasps the hand of both men, pulling them both into a hug, landing a smack on their backs. âYou guys going to Steer on Friday? I heard itâs got a weird industrial, mechanical vibe to it, I donât know. Joong seems pretty hype about it.â
San and Wooyoung both nod, but itâs San who answers, âYeah, yeah, we wouldnât miss it.â
âSounds weird, though,â Wooyoung adds, âdo you know if the drinks are cheap?â
âThree bucks a beer,â Yunhoâs tongue pokes out from between his teeth, nodding, and the three men erupt into what can only be described as men-turned-pelicans finding an endless pit of fish to feed on.Â
Theyâre all smiles and laughter until Yunho asks if youâre going, which sparks the two menâs memory, Wooyoung and Sanâs backs standing a little straighter, entering Shy-defense-mode.
âIâŠâ San begins, then turns to Wooyoung.
Wooyoung, already staring at him, blinks, then turns to Yunho, âMaybe?â He gives it a second, then blurts, âCan I just ask what happened between you two?âÂ
Sanâs lips tighten, head falling until his chin tucks into his chest. They shouldnât have asked, Wooyoung shouldnât have asked, but he canât help his curiosityâ he wants to know, too. They havenât gotten anything besides vague answers from you.Â
Yunhoâs eyes widened, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. It makes San curious, too curious for his own good, he adds, âWe wonât say anything, she just wonât tell us anything, and weâre worried about her, yâknow?â
Yunhoâs chin tilts in defense, brows flattening, âI didnâtâ it was justââ
âWeâre not accusing you of anything bad,â Wooyoung waves his hands out in front of him, eyes wide, chucking nervously. âShy said you were really great to her, it just didnât work out, or something. She cried for like an entire day after and wouldnât tell us any more details.â
San frowns with remembrance, how you shut yourself away and wouldnât let them in, figuratively and literally. When Wooyoungâs hand falls to his side, San grabs it, giving him an encouraging squeeze, the two meeting eyes with small, fond smiles painted on their cheeks. Yunhoâs eyes lock on the action, on their smiles, confusion morphing his features, everything scrunching together at once.
âWhat?â San asks, âWas everything okay? Youâre both being so ominous about it.â
âUs?â San asks, surprised, eyes wide and brows high.Â
San and Wooyoung share a look, then reluctantly, they nod. Wooyoung smiles, âYeah, weâre together.â
âLike, just the two of you?â Yunho has a finger pointed, dancing between the two of them.Â
Sanâs head turns in question, âYes?â
Yunhoâs jaw drops, nodding slowly, then with a pitched, disbelieving tone, he mumbles, âNo shit.â
âI know,â San nods with a knowing smile, thinking heâs got all of Yunhoâs thoughts figured out. âLong time coming, though.â
âItâs been like, a little over a week of us being together officially,â Wooyoung adds, his grin proud and wide, âbut itâs been good so far. Weâre happy.â
âDoes she know?â Yunho asks, his face quickly settling back into confusion.Â
Wooyoungâs lips purse, âYeah, she knows. Why?â
Yunho nods slowly again like heâs thinking, then shakes his head quickly when Wooyoungâs question settles. âNo reason, just wondering. Anyways, Iâve really gotta run, Iâve got this thing that Iâm already late to and⊠art, and you know, yeah. Bye.â
âWait, you didnâtââ
âSorry guys, see you Friday though, yeah?â Yunho gives them a brief smile, then scurries down the aisle like Wooyoung and San were about to put the plague in his palms.Â
Wooyoung and San stand there for a second, brows furrowed, heads tilted, before they look at each other utterly dumbfounded. Wooyoung points down the aisle, âWas that homophobic?âÂ
San, still confused, responds, âPerhaps.â
âHm,â Wooyoungâs eyes thin, âcouldâve sworn him and Mingi fucked before.â
âI thought so too,â San squeezes his hand again, âwho cares? We can snitch on him Friday.â
Wooyoungâs grin returns, laughing loud enough for the whole bodega to hear, âImagine Hongjoongâs face.â
âHongjoong would beat the shit out of him with one hand, Naoya style.â
The more San thinks about it, the more he thinks Yunho might not actually be homophobic at all.Â
âDonât call me schizophrenic.â
Wooyoung snorts, âAre you about to say something that will make me think youâre schizophrenic?â
âMaybe,â San responds, lips scrunched. Sitting at the receptionist desk at the front of the studio, the final piece of Sanâs thought process clicked into place when you brushed past them into your studio for rehearsal. âI think Shy might love us back.â
Wooyoung, sitting fully on the desk beside San, wears a white tank on his upper half, exposing the tattoo on his forearm, black sweats on his lower, hiding each inch of bronzy, toned muscle. Heâs housing a granola bar, his knees spread, back hunched, brows raised as he watches San think.Â
âThat interaction with Yunho was kinda weird,â San begins, leaning back into the rolling computer chair, hands lazily thrown at the center of his spread thighs. In all black, his clothes look painted on, tee clinging to his chest, his arms, his torso, sweats exposing the breadth of his thighs.Â
âWe knew this already,â Wooyoung nods, sticking out his free hand in a rolling motion, âletâs skip to the Shy part.â
âWhat if she was crying the whole day after her date with Yunho because of us?â His eyes flicker up to look at Wooyoung, who only raises a brow. âWhat if she didnât work out with Yunho because she wants us, and she told Yunho all about it?â
âWhy would she even go on the date then?â
San deadpans, âDid she want to even go on that date?â
Wooyoung slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening, âOh my god, she definitely did not want to go on that date. What if she didnât work out with Yunho because she wants us, and she told Yunho all about it?â
San rolls his eyes, and then literally rolls the chair away from Wooyoung who tips his head back in laughter. âIâm sorry, come back,â he says through his laughter, âplease? Iâll stop, Iâm sorry. It just sounds like weâre grasping for straws here.â
âWhy else would Yunho be so weird about us being together?â San continues, rolling the chair until heâs between Wooyoungâs spread legs, he lays both palms on his knees. âAnd when he asked âjust the two of youâ? Come on, he basically told us the whole damn story.â
Wooyoung holds onto his granola bar with two hands, eyes closing as he terribly sings, âJust the two of us⊠We can make it if we try, just the two of usâŠâ
âListen to me, Wooyoung. Iâm being serious.â
It seems to lock him back in, Wooyoung meeting Sanâs eye, his back straightening a little. Sanâs lips perk upward, his groin opening an eye at the easy display of submissionâ not the time.Â
âOkay, fine. But I do think youâre a little insane and grasping for straws.â
San smacks his teeth, âIâll prove it to you, then.â
âYeah?â Wooyoung cracks a smile, âHow are you gonna do that? That night in the studio set us back, like, five years.â
âYou donât know her like I know her,â San sits back in the computer chair again, smirk crawling its way onto his cheeks, his arms crossing over his chest.Â
Wooyoung scowls, âAre you flexing on me right now?â
âNo!â San shakes his head, âIâm just saying, I think I could get her to crack if she does want us back.â
âAnd why would you do it any better than I could?â Wooyoungâs voice is sharper, âI wanted her to begin with, you know.â
âAnd I was fucking her before you ever laid eyes on her,â San responds in the same tone, âdonât get cocky with me, not when it comes to this.â
Wooyoungâs brows raise, back arching ever so slightly at the tone of Sanâs voice. Thereâs amusement playing in his words as he says, âWow, never thought Iâd see the day you get possessive.â
âWith you, thereâs no reason to, itâs not a competition,â San shrugs, âbesides right now. You struck a nerve.â
Wooyoung smiles, hopping down from the desk to place a fat kiss on Sanâs lips, âYou love me.â
Sanâs dimples are on display in a smile as he lifts his arms to grab Wooyoung by his cheeks, leaning up off the chair to kiss the younger man again, âThat I do.â
âYouâre really gonna try?â Wooyoung asks again, leaning against the counter, his legs crossed between Sanâs as he takes another bite of his granola bar. âEven after my studio debacle with her?â
San nods, âIâm optimistic about it, I know, but I really do think Iâm right.â
San learned to enjoy cooking before he learned to enjoy being in the gym. Him and his mother in the kitchen, teaching him recipes sheâs carried through her years learned from her own mother, to recipes heâs learned from cookbooks and the internet that fall within the strict guidelines of his diet.Â
It turned from sustainability to passionâ cooking became a love language before he knew it, and the main reason is because heâs always loved cooking for you most. More so since the two of you moved in together, even more so when Wooyoung moved in, too. Cooking for the three of you, to eat at the kitchen table, on the couch, even if he was dropping off plates to you in your bedrooms⊠San loved it. Adored it.Â
For you to enjoy something he made for you warmed his blood until it sizzled with affection, to know he was making a good, hearty, healthy meal to nourish you, he never thought cooking, of all things, would make him realize how deeply heâs in love.Â
Itâs a constant reminder every time his bare feet touch the tiled floor of the kitchen that he loves you, that he loves Wooyoung. Tonight it feels stronger, but maybe thatâs the two glasses of wine and his pink cheeks talking. The way youâre dancing about the kitchen, twirling in nothing but a big tee, singing along to the song playing from the speaker you keep in the kitchenâ the confession is laying right below his skin, on the tip of his tongue, begging to be set free. After his realization, a bubble of hope so big you could pop it with a fingernail, he doesnât know how much longer he can keep it in.Â
Youâre laughing at something he said, his tipsy mind doesnât even know what it was, but your laugh is so loud and so involuntary it squeezes the life out of his lungs. He wants to pick you up and put you on the counter, his hands on your perfect thighs as your ankles hook around his back, he wants to kiss you. He wants to feel you laugh into his mouth. He misses you.Â
âI donât want to talk about me at eighteen,â you shake your head, still giggling. Your hair is in a bun atop your head, messy, pieces hanging out like you tied it without looking in the mirror. Barefaced, no pants, no bra, this is his favorite version of you, the one that doesnât care, the one thatâs perfectly comfortable being in your own skin.
âWhy not? I loved you at eighteen, too,â San turns back around before his cock begins stirring in his pantsâ he stirs the pot on the stove, instead.Â
You come up behind him, on your tippy toes to place your chin on his shoulder. Still smiling, teeth stained with a faint, deep red, âYeah? You loved me, huh?â
San knows itâs the wine talking, youâd never be so bold otherwise. He doesnât even think youâre being serious. But, being himself, his brows dance above his eyes as he says, âOf course I did, I still love you.âÂ
You roll your eyes, smile faltering for just a second before it returns with vengeance, âI thought you meant you loved me, you goof.âÂ
Should he just say it? Should he? His back straightens a little. Uneasy, voice a little shaky, he tries, âI did, I had aâ a huge crush on you when we were eighteen.âÂ
Your eyes blow wide, spinning around next to him to press your back up against the counter, palms folding around the edge. Surprised, but a little disbelieving, your jaw drops, âNo way.âÂ
âIâm serious!â I still have it to this day. âWhen you dated that one guyâ fuck, what was his name?âÂ
âMark.âÂ
âMark, thatâs it. When you dated him senior year, I was so mad, I can remember being at graduation and being so fucking jealous that you were kissing him for pictures.âÂ
You gasped out a laugh, mortified, shocked, stomach dropping with what you could have had, âWhat? Why didnât you tell me?â
âWhat was I supposed to say?â San steps to the side, half of his body taking up all of yours. He pretends like he doesnât notice how small you are beneath his body. ââHey Shy, I know weâve known each other all our lives, but in the past few years Iâve actually formed a gigantic huge crush on you. Sorry if it ruins the friendship.ââ
âExactly that, yes,â youâre laughing again, nodding, head tilting to the side as you look up at him with those fucking eyes. He loves them, so big and full of knowledge, experience, maturity and grace that is only expressed in the most you way. In a quieter voice, like youâre afraid to say it, you mumble, âI guess that explains college then, huh?â
Thereâs a pit in his stomach, one full of gasoline, and you just dropped a lit match down his throat without even realizing it.Â
âThereâs a lot that could explain college,â San smirks, one dimple arriving at the scene, moving so heâs fully standing in front of you, caging you in between himself and the counter. He presses his hands into the ledge, voice teasing, light and airy, âLike how we wanted each other, and were using a third person as an excuse?âÂ
Your smile falters, eyes widening. You swallow, San watches as your throat bobs, breath turning shallow, chest rising and falling beneath your tee. He canât help the way his smirk grows, liquid confidence and too much optimism making his arm raise to brush a thumb over your cheek, reveling in how you twitch under his touch, eyelids fluttering. He remembers this body like it was his own, how you react to him, what gets your panties wet, what makes your toes fucking curl. He wants to show you how much he remembers you.Â
âAre you guys talking about college again?âÂ
You gasp loudly, jumping, body slithering out of Sanâs clutch and into the open floorplan of the kitchen, all in a few quick, panic-driven movements. With a hand clutched over your heart, youâre out of breath, âFuck, Woo, you scared me.âÂ
âI could feel the jealousy simmering in my bones, I knew you had to be talking about college,â heâs leaning against the archway, playful smirk on his lips, golden skin gleaming beneath the warm light of the kitchen. Shirtless, body on display, an ankle crossed over the other with a pair of baggy basketball shorts on⊠fuck Wooyoung for interrupting him, but fuck, San might actually get hard with the both of you half-dressed.Â
You roll your eyes, taking two steps before you press your back against the other side of the counter, using your palms to lift you up over the edge. Exactly how San wants you, how he imagined you, his breath catches in his throat. He turns back around instead of dwelling on it.Â
âShut up, Woo,â he hears you mumble, âthose days have long ended. Shouldâve met us earlier.âÂ
Wooyoung whines, uncurling his arms from his chest to walk further into the kitchen, stopping in front of you with his palms pressed to your knees, âWhat, you donât miss it, Shybaby? Not even a little?âÂ
San turns the knob on the stove until the flame lowers to a small flicker, stirring the roux in the pot. He turns his head halfway, side-eyeing Wooyoung whose back is slightly arched as he stares up into you, hands now planted against the edge of the counter on either side of your thighs, so confident, not a shred of insecurity in him. San wonders how heâs managed a complete one-eighty from the night he woke him up to freak out. Maybe heâs really making this a competition.Â
You stiffen, eyes widening. Tipsy, but not drunk enough to admit something like that. A nervous laugh stutters from your lips, âIâ What? Like I said, that ship has sailed. Those days are over. The baton has been passed to you, Woo.âÂ
You use one hand on Wooyoungâs bare shoulder and the other pressed to the countertop to haul yourself off of it, landing swiftly on bare feet. Scrambling out of the kitchen towards the living room, you call over your shoulder, âLet me know when dinnerâs ready, Iâm gonna lay down, the wine went straight to my head, I think.âÂ
Wooyoung waits a moment before he turns to stare at San, eyebrows flat. San tightens his lips, an insult in his eyes, whispering, âWhy did you interrupt?â
Wooyoung crosses the kitchen, his voice a sharp whisper, âI thought you already did it. Do you know how it looked from over there?â
Leaving the roux, he leans up against the counter, arms crossing, âWe would have been making out by now if you didnât interrupt.â
âIâm sorry,â Wooyoung whines, âitâs fine, just try again.â
San covers his face with his hands, âYou know what?â His hands lay on his boyfriendâs shoulders, âWhat I just did will hit its mark, maybe if you try next, we can get the point across without having to actually say it. Then she will come to us.â
âIf I try then she wonât have to come to us,â a cocky grin spreads across the younger manâs face, âitâll be game-point. Youâll come home to find us fucking.â
Sanâs lips thin, but he doesnât respond. At this point he doesnât care how it happens, as long as it happens.Â
You thought the wine had left your system hours ago, after the meal Sannie made you, especially after a movie on the couch. The wine is the only explanation for your insides feeling warm and gooeyâ not the fact that across the hall, you could hear the squeaking of the mattress, the bedframe hitting the wall repeatedly, strangled moans leaving two menâs lips that you could tell they were trying to keep inside.Â
Sweetie slept on his bed on your floor, head buried in the gray plush, waking up every few minutes or so from an especially loud moan or a shrill bang of wood against wall. Even your fucking dog was losing sleep.Â
Youâve never heard them before, not once. Not once. Why tonight, after having both of their hands on you, their eyes staring into you, after the question Wooyoung asked? Do you miss it? The fear that zapped up on your spine was so intense you needed to lay down and close your fucking eyes.Â
Confusing as much as it was scary, Wooyoung speaks of jealousy, but asks you if you miss fucking his boyfriend? Was it a kink to them? Is that why theyâre fucking now?
They get off on other people wanting them⊠Wanting each other⊠That had to be it. The jealousy aspect, of reclaiming one another, and they used you to do it of all people?! Itâs worse than mean, itâs worse than rude, itâs cruel. Cruel to dangle their relationship in front of your face after flirting with youâ even if flirting with you is all theyâve ever done.Â
You can remember meeting Wooyoung for the first time, sitting with him in a smoke circle, laughing your heart out when only three or four words had left his mouth. You ended up in tears, cheeks aching, lungs empty and dry, by the time everyone up and left and it was only the two of you left, heâd come onto you. Your first time meeting, even if he said he took notice of you far earlier, around that same smoke circle.
You canât remember why youâd said no, how you rejected him. You had a feeling, maybe, that your relationship with him would grow far deeper than one night spent together in a cloud of hazy lust. Still to this day you remember that ache, laughing so hard you nearly gagged, eyes locked in on him, waiting for the next hilarious thing to leave his lips. It became routine, the next time you saw him out, the time Sannie introduced you to him when you already knew each other, when your name fell from his lips for the first time, Wooyoung has always, always looked at you with a certain look in his eyeâ like he was waiting for the smile to kiss your cheeks, for the laugh to fall from your lips.Â
You donât remember exactly when your duo with San had turned to three. Wooyoung only moved in two years ago, but youâve been close for years now, since that night around the smoke circle, passing three joints amongst nine people.Â
Maybe you were meant to become friends with him so he could end up with San, so the two of them could knock their headboard against your fucking wall and remind you that youâd never be on the inside.Â
It felt sour.Â
Yet for some reason, the hurt laying low in your tummy swam with the heat, the desire, curling into a pit of fire-hot pressure you couldnât ignore. Youâd already pushed the sheets off your body, already tugged your shirt up, desperate for air. You tried a pillow over your head, squeezing cotton against your ears. You went on your phone, scrolled Twitter, watched a few TikToks, tried your favorite ASMRtist.Â
Laying low in the background was them. Endless. Sanâs low grunts, Wooyoungâs pitched whines, they poured through the thin wall separating your rooms, surrounding you like wildfire. They were everywhere, in the air, on your skin, in your sheets, but the ache curled low, settling into nothingness because you could hear the pleasure but were feeling none of it.Â
You gasped as you heard itâ one singular line gritted through Sanâs teeth, âYeah? Gonna be good for me?â
You bent your knees up, head tipping back into the sheets, eyes squeezing shut. Your fingertips tapped against the bed, pushing a heavy sigh through pursed lips. That voice, his tone, the actions that accompany it, your memories are your personal hell. You could see them, Sannie bending Wooyoung in half, a foot planted on the bed as he drilled into him.Â
Then Wooyoung whimpered, âYes, please. So good for youâ Iâll be good, please, fuck me Sannieââ
Your lips parted, a shaky breath slipping through. Your body was steaming, ears straining to listen to every last fucking detail even if you didnât want to hear any of it. Even if it hurt, you needed it like water, like air, so badly you wanted to get up out of bed and walk in there.Â
âThatâs it,â San grunted, you could see the sweat beading between his pecs, âstay down, donât fucking move.â
You bit your lip as your hands traveled to your thighs. Nails scraping against your skin, your nipples pebbled against the open air of your room, shame and embarrassment twisting with the rest of everything curling in your gut. Arousal, jealousy, rage, nostalgia, shame, hurtâ you needed your panties off. It felt unethical, you should put on headphones, you should leave, you should do anything but dip two fingers into your panties.Â
You moaned as your fingers made contact with your clit. Immediately you clamped a hand over your mouth, back arching into your own touch, ignoring the flame of shame completely as your eyes fluttered closed. You eased yourself into the pleasure, breath picking up as Wooyoungâs moans grew louder, the smack of Sanâs hips landing harder.Â
Your other hand sank down to toy with a nipple while your fingers circled your clit in tight, rhythmic movements, eyelids twitching as their pleasure became your own. Timing your movements with theirs, lips parting when a moan sank through drywall, you let your mind drift, placing yourself in the fantasy.Â
Laying up against Sannieâs chest, Wooyoung between your thighs. On top of Wooyoung, hips circling his as Sannie pushed up against your back, hands on your chest, one sinking down to rub circles on your clit. Sitting on Sannieâs lap just like Wooyoung had the night you caught him, chests pressed together, hands in hair, hips mindlessly rutting together, Wooyoung on your back as if you really were between them that night.Â
The movie played in color in your mind, so vivid, like it was happeningâ with noise melting walls, it felt real. Lost in the pleasure, in the fantasy, you didnât realize their volume had lowered, that their movements slowed.Â
âSannie, stop, stop,â Wooyoung splayed a hand behind him, head perked up, face still twisted in pleasure, but his lips stayed parted like he couldnât believe his ears.Â
âWhat?â Concerned, San had two palms on Wooyoungâs hips, pausing immediately, âAre you okay? What's wrong?âÂ
âListen,â Wooyoung whispered, like if he spoke too loud, youâd hear him. That youâd stop.Â
Sanâs brows furrowed, lips parting to question, but then he heard it. Small, faint whimpers, and then a moanâ a genuine, raw, unbridled fucking moan, yours. He recognized it, he knows it, heâs forced it out of your lips, his hips grind into Wooyoungâs warmth out of instinct.
Wooyoungâs head dropped, arm bending until his elbow hit the mattress, a low moan spilling from his lips as his arm slipped between his thighs, tugging on his length. His voice comes out low, ragged, âI canât believe this.â
âFuck,â San cursed low, long, hips picking up again, slow but steady, quiet enough to hear your sounds float through the wall. âSheâ Iâ, Woo.âÂ
âYes,â Wooyoung whispered, moaned, hips fucking back onto Sanâs length in a nasty, slow grind, âwish she was in here, sh- it, want her hands on me.âÂ
Sanâs fingertips squeezed into the plush of Wooyoungâs ass, face scrunching together in pleasure, a silent moan leaving his slacked jaw. The shock, the debrief would have to come later.
âYouâ you wanna fuck her while I fuck you? Hm?âÂ
Wooyoung arched deeper, fisting his length faster, picking up speed all over again, drowning out your noise. San wasnât faring much better, hips stuttering into Wooyoung, one hand sliding up to claw fingers into his boyfriendâs back.Â
Sanâs eyes stayed locked onto where the two met, watching how Wooyoungâs ass rippled with each harsh thrust of his cock, the end approaching too fucking fast.Â
A few more thrusts until he was hunched over, drooling onto Wooyoungâs back as he filled him up, Wooyoungâs release spilling all over the comforter beneath them. They didnât even get as far as undoing the sheets.Â
Dinner, a few glasses of wine, a movie with too much touching, Wooyoung was already dirty talking San before they opened up the bedroom door. Cocky smirk on his pretty lips, head tilted, eyes sparkling, teasing him about youâ oh, he was begging to get fucked. Sanâs been overly careful of your presence for awhile now, never too loud, keeping Wooyoungâs mouth on a tight leash when youâre home.Â
But Wooyoung pushed each and every button tonight, all concerning you. How heâd fuck you better, how youâd crack when he tried, how heâd treat you better than San, San put one hand around his throat and the rest unfolded in a mess of teeth, tongue and lube. To hear you through the wall, getting off to them, was the cherry on top. They needed to do something, now.Â
San ripped the comforter off the bed and crawled beneath the sheet, not caring if Wooyoung spilled into them as he settled over Sanâs chest, their breath still heavy, hearts still pounding.
âYou seriously think she was getting off to us?â San asked Wooyoung, brows raised in innocence, in fear of what he thought to be true, being false. He kept his voice low, a small whisper.
Wooyoung, fully out of breath, chest still heaving and soaked in sweat, laughed. A hearty chuckle, he ran a hand through his hair, smile lingering, âYes, baby. Bet sheâs in there nervous as hell that we heard her.âÂ
You sat up in your bed, chest heaving, eyes wide, right hand still shaky. Fuck. Thereâs no way they heard you, right? Too wrapped up in each other, they were loud, thereâs no way they heard you over the sound of themselves. You looked over to Sweetie in panic, only easing when you saw his head still tucked into his half-torn bed, eyes closed, breathing even.Â
If Sweetie wasnât bothered, then they definitely didnât hear you.Â
You lay flat against your bed, mind whirling, so fucking confused because that was so hot but it wasnât right. Masturbating to the sound of your two roommates, two best friends who were in a relationship fucking, it wasnât morally correct, that you knew before your fingers slipped into your panties. Post-nut clarity seeping in, youâre met with regret, guilt, and the urge to give up.Â
Reminding yourself was painfulâ they donât want you, they want each other. Thereâs no room for you in their relationship.Â
Maybe youâll go with them to that fuckass bar tomorrow. Maybe Yunho will be there. Nothing could be worse than living with this.Â
San and Wooyoung had enough.Â
The morning after the multi-room sex debacle, you pretended like nothing happened. They supposed that to you, nothing did happen, you had no idea they heard you, and they werenât going to say anything, either. Youâd die of embarrassment if they brought it up, and theyâve come to the conclusion that it wouldn't be the best start of a blooming relationship. They at least thought you would question it, question them. But you didnât.Â
Their patience was running thin.Â
The bar was loud, pop music floating through the space, a newer bar with an industrial look to it that left everything open. The ceilings showed the pipes, the walls looked to be something like steel, the decor had a very factory-mechanical vibe to it that they couldnât quite explainâ but the drinks were cheap and the music was good. With all of your friends here, they didnât care much, anyhow, their main focus was that you wanted to be here, you wanted to blow off steam, let loose and let go after a hectic week.Â
They wondered how much of that excuse had to do with them.Â
You stood at the bar, one foot propped up on the exposed pipe lying at the base, tapping Wooyoungâs credit card against the bar. San leaned into him, their shoulders touching, both of their eyes locked in on you, watching like they always did. God forbid they took their eyes off of you.Â
âYou guys are gonna go cross-eyed if you keep staring,â Seonghwa muttered from across the circular table, settled in the booth beside his boyfriend, Hongjoong.Â
âHow could we not stare?â Wooyoung was quick to answer. âHave you seen her?âÂ
âI thought you guys were together now,â Hongjoongâs brows furrowed, eyes bouncing between Wooyoung and San, fingers tapping against his glass, his draft beer halfway gone by now.Â
âWe are,â San shrugged, âjust trying to get her with us, too.â
Wooyoung snorted, âThatâs one way to put it.â
âWait, wait, wait,â Jongho interrupted, leaning forward between Mingi and Yeosang, separating the couple. âYouâre trying to be in⊠what, a throuple?â
âYeah,â San and Wooyoung answered at the same time, like it was the most normal thing in the world.Â
âActually, Iâm not even going to question it,â Yeosang shook his head, bringing the straw in his fruity cocktail up to his lips. âSanâs always had a thing for her.â
Mingi leans forward, a smile on his pink lips, agreeing with his boyfriend immediately, âRight? I thought you guys would end up together, or really, I kinda thought you were secretly together this whole time.â
Sanâs cheeks, already pink, must have turned four shades darker. He didnât have time to answer though, Hongjoong cutting in immediately, âSounds messy. Does she know you want her?â
Wooyoungâs lips tighten as he shakes his head, âDonât know, maybe.â
âDidnât she just go on a date with Yunho?â Jongho asks, one of his brows popped.Â
San sighs, âThat was before we knew she was interested in us, if she is.â
âShe is interested in you?â Mingi looks completely confused.
âSee?â Hongjoong shakes his head. âMessy.â
Wooyoung nudges San with his elbow, speak of the fucking devil, grabbing his boyfriendâs attention to watch Yunho approaching you at the bar, a pitstop on his way back from the bathroom. Immediately thereâs a fire in his gut, jealousy spreading like wildfire to each nerve ending in his body, it doesnât help that Yunho looks hot tonight. Baggy cargos on his legs, tight tee on his torso, oversized button down hanging loose off his shoulders, fuck him. Why is he approaching you like the two of you are friendly or something?
Last they heard, you didnât want him, you wanted them. So why is Yunho talking to you like heâs hitting on you? Why is your hand on his forearm? What could he possibly be saying that makes your head tip back in laughter? Yunho isnât even that funny.Â
Thereâs discomfort lining Sanâs eyebrows as he watches you lean into Yunho, seeming almost instinctive. He knows that look in your eye, the exact grin on your cheeks, what youâre insinuating even if he canât hear a word falling from your glossy lips. He takes a slow breath, calming his heart rate before his mind warps what he sees into something completely different.Â
Yunhoâs his friend. If his hypothesis is correct, he knows how you feel about them, how they feel about you, waitâ did they even tell Yunho how they feel about you? Sanâs eyes widen in panic as he turns to Wooyoung who already looks like heâs settled in his decision, jealousy in the hinge of his clenched jaw, his fingers mindlessly swirling the straw in his drink.Â
San thinks theyâre speaking around him, he canât hear, he chooses not to listen. He watches as you lean forward, whispering something in Yunhoâs ear. His chest feels heavy as Yunho looks down at the floor like heâs hiding flushed cheeks, an easy smile on his lips, body leaning closer to you as if San and Wooyoung werenât sitting ten feet away.Â
Theyâve had enough.Â
You were already smiling as Yunho approached you, having watched him make the few last steps to where you stood. âHey stranger.â
âHey,â he leans against the bar, âgetting another drink?â
You flashed Wooyoungâs black card, a smirk on your cheeks, âGetting as many as I can stomach tonight.â
Yunho smacks his teeth, âRough week?â
âYou have no idea,â you say through an exhausted breath, âand you? Drinking tonight? Iâm sure Woo wonât notice if I add another beer to his tab.â
Yunhoâs eyes dance from the table back to you, âOh, heâll notice.â
âTrust me,â your lips scrunch together, disappointment on your face, âhe wonât. Heâs too focused on San.â
âTheyâre together?â Yunho lifts a brow, âlike, together together?â
âMhm,â you nod, tongue poking your cheek. âNew development in the saga, I guess. Not a good one.â
âIâm sorry,â Yunho frowns, âI did not expect that.â
Youâre still nodding until a sigh is pulled from your lungs, âIt does leave me single, though, like super singleâŠâ Your eyes flicker up to him, blinking through heavy lashes.
Yunho snorts, âYeah? Were you not super single before?â
You laugh, a breathy little thing, leaning closer to him, a hand mindlessly landing on his forearm. âI was, but there was hope before. Now thereâs nothing, like super confirmed, nothing.â
âSuper,â Yunho nods, laughter still playing on his lips like he was fighting it back. It leaves you both giggling like kids, a hand covering your mouth as your head tips back.Â
He looks pretty tonight, you realize. Undone, casual, like he didnât put in too much effort. Baggy clothes on his body, hair a little disheveled, he looked comfortable. You werenât sure if it was the alcohol in your system or the last bit of sanity you were clinging on to, but he looked⊠Different. Good, really good.Â
âAre you still super single?â The question slips from your lips before you can think about it.Â
Yunhoâs brows raise, surprised, they quirk immediately after, confused. His eyes fly to the table, landing there for a moment before sliding back to you, âOh,â he blinks, âoh. Yes, yeah, Iâm still single.â
âGood,â you nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling the heat you were so desperately missing the night you went out on your date. You needed something, a good fuck, a drunk hookup, something to distract you from how fucking miserable you felt. Hopeless was the better word, after coming to the sound of them fucking youâd never felt more pathetic in your life, you needed change, something, anything.Â
âDo⊠you have plans after this?â Yunhoâs face looked innocent, of all things. Like he wasnât sure if he should be asking the question, the implication behind it, even though he seemed to see straight through you, what you needed.
The smirk that crawled onto your cheeks was anything but innocent. âNope, completely free.â
âGood,â Yunho nodded, his smile a little more confident now. âFuck the black card, let me buy you a drink.â
Your brows raised, a laugh falling past your lips as both your hands shoot up in defense, âBe my guest. You deserve a do-over.â
âNo I do not,â he says through a laugh, âbut you deserve to have some fun.â
You roll your eyes, snorting a laugh, âPlease, we both know that date was not good.â
Yunhoâs head turns back to the table again before taking your place leaning over the bar, ignoring your comment but definitely not denying it, âIâll get us a round of shots.â
And he didâ vodka, bitter and hot, it burnt your chest the entire way down. But it went down easy with the liquor already pooling in your gut, body warm enough to begin with.Â
He bought you something fruity afterward, rum and juice, it tasted like candyâ easy to sip on, easy to chug if need be. You stuck around the bar instead of heading back to the table, eyeing the dance floor on the other side of the bar, in easy conversation with Yunho who seemed like he had no intentions of heading back to the table, either.Â
âDo you want to dance?â His eyes flicker to you, brows raised like he couldnât quite gauge whether or not youâd say yes.Â
âYou know I teach dance for a living, right?â Your lips quirk on one side, âOf course I want to dance.â
âI canât say Iâm a great dancer,â Yunho admits, lips tightened in a line. âI sell art, thereâs nothing fluid about walking around a gallery all day.â
You laugh, grabbing him by the wrist, tugging him towards the music that gets louder with each step. âFollow my lead,â you say simply, mind finally feeling fucking free, âIâll give you a free lesson.â
He trails behind you with a silly smile until you enter the crowd of people, it was busy over here, you realized. The bar wasnât too crowded, the other side of the building consisted of booths and tables for those who⊠didnât want to have a good time, you guessed. Talking, catching up, the first awkward half of a date, maybe.Â
You loved bars that had dance floors. Clubs, weddings, anywhere that there was a space dedicated to people letting loose, allowing their bodies to move as they pleased, to feel music in their blood. It was your favorite, even if you danced for a living, this was differentâ no choreography, no rules, there was nothing in your mind to keep you structured. You could let yourself feel, move the way your body allowed, you didnât have to worry what anyone else thought.Â
With liquor in your system, that freedom is amplified by a thousand. Dancing before Yunho, you quickly realize he lied about having two left feet, his smile is just as careless as yours as his body moves to the beat of the song, matching your rhythm perfectly. Hips swaying in tandem, arms flowing in the space around you, youâre giggling before you know it, a smile branded onto your cheeks.Â
Until you turn your head and see that Wooyoung and San have joined you.Â
Sanâs arms over Wooyoungâs shoulders, they danced close, hips touching, swaying together as one. They were smiling at youâ or pretending to be, the first thing you noticed was how their grins didnât reach their ears. An alarm bell sounds in your head, confused, concerned, you want to ask whatâs wrong, your body stops moving as the thoughts pile in.Â
Wooyoung, unaffected by your lack of movement, wiggles free from Sanâs grip. âLetâs switch!â Heâs smiling, yelling over the music, âCâmon, itâll be fun.â
Your brows furrow as Wooyoung shimmies between you and Yunho, his arms gliding swiftly over Yunhoâs shoulders shamelessly, dark hair glowing under the pink, neon light, shaking with each sway of his body.Â
You turn your head to San who seems like heâs taking a moment to process, then he pulls you into him by your wrist, other hand landing on your hip, your back to his chest. You start moving out of instinct, hips swaying, but your brows stay furrowed.Â
Turning your head halfway, you ask, âWhatâs going on?â
San presses his lips into your cheek, dimples out to play with the smile he gives you. This one seems more real, it eases the panic in your chest ever so slightly. âWhat do you mean?â
âIââ Your head turns back to Wooyoung, who has his cheek pressed to Yunhoâs, saying something into his ear. âAre you guys okay?â
âOf course,â Sanâs palms hug your hips, pulling you flush to him, the feeling of him behind you sends heat up your spine. Immediately youâre brought back to the other night, the sounds leaving his lips, the mental picture you came up with, your hand between your legs. With his voice dripped in honey, he asks, âAre you okay, Shygirl?â
Youâre nodding, body sinking into him, heat pulsing through your core, up your spine. His body feels so strong behind you, muscular arms on your hips, rocking you so sensually it throws your head for a spin. This movement brings back memories, ones that haunt you, ones you miss so fucking much.Â
You nod weakly, your voice a small squeak, âYup, âm fine.â
He chuckles, cheeks pink, burying his head into your neck. Youâre so close you could be considered one, itâs too close, itâs disrespectful, but you canât bring yourself to let go. Yunho is right in front of you, expecting a night with you, he knows how you feel about San, about Wooyoung, and here you are falling into a haze, repeating old mistakes.Â
A third hand to one side of your waist, a fourth to the other. When you look up, Yunho is gone. Wooyoung stands before you with a cocky, lopsided smile on his lips, hips pressing into your front, falling into rhythm with you and San easily. He looks so pretty with pink cast onto his face, so bronzy even under neon light, his dark clothes sinking into the shadows.
âWhereâs Yunho?â You ask, hands finding Wooyoungâs shoulders like it was instinct.Â
He takes the opportunity to come closer, the three of you molding together, the smell of both of them in your nose, the strength of them boxing you in. It feels so fucking good, it feels wrong, you donât want them to let go, you want to stay here, dancing with them all night.Â
âBathroom,â Wooyoung shrugs, thumbs caressing your sides. âWho cares?â
âWoo,â you whine, making a show of pouting, but it isnât real. You donât care.Â
âWhat?â His grin spreads wider, voice light and playful like he was proving his innocence, âThe only thing that matters is you and us, right here. Nothing else.â
You couldnât argue with him, not that you ever do. Thereâs nothing left inside you to make a rebuttal, anyway, thereâs so you curl your fingers into the nape of his neck, spread your legs to allow one of theirs to slot through, and sway your hips like you were born to do it. Head falling back onto Sanâs shoulder, a lazy grin makes its way to your cheeks as you move with them, staring at Wooyoung over your nose, he looks at you like heâd do anything to drink you in.Â
Heâs always looked at you this way, but there was something different about the longing glint in his eye, how his tongue slowly swipes over his lips like heâs hungry. Maybe it was knowing your own feelings playing a part, if it was anyone else youâd think they wanted to fuck you, but itâs Wooyoung. You can feel San at your back, the dirty grind of his hips against your ass, itâs been so long since youâve been with them like thisâ dancing, liquor involved, too close for comfort, questioning if your relationship was as platonic as you thought it was.Â
Years. You havenât touched San in years. You think back to Wooyoung asking if you missed itâ you know you do, you miss it so fucking much, but was there a chance that Wooyoung wanted you to miss it? That he wanted to repeat history, this time with him involved, like all the times youâve dreamt about? You almost groan, head tipping forward, heat spreading through your body at the thought of them wanting you like you want them.Â
âWhat are you thinking about, baby?â Wooyoung asks, his voice low, loud enough for you to hear. His face is so close you could feel his breath on your face; minty, like he was drinking a mojito, or took a shot of Rumplemintz. His smile is feline, eyes knowing as if your skull was transparent, like he just wanted to hear the words from your lips.Â
âI,â you take a breath, the admission sits on your tongue. âIâm not thinking.â
You canât do it. To make yourself so vulnerable, so susceptible to rejection, you couldnât do it.Â
Wooyoung leans in, soft, warm cheek pressed to yours, lips ghosting your ear, âYouâre lying.â
San is on your other side, keeping himself close, his nose dancing along the shell of your ear, making you shiver. He keeps his voice just as low, sounding like an aphrodisiac, âTell us, baby, whatâs going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?â
Your heartbeat quickens, pressure below your skin, theyâre too close, boxing you in, thereâs a pit in your core like an itch you canât fucking scratch and theyâre dangling relief in front of your eyes, out of reach. Your jaw clenches, words fighting to push through, your fingers tangle into Wooyoungâs hair at the nape of his neck, nails grazing against skinâ he hisses into your ear, fingers tightening around your waist like itâs all he could do to stop himself from pressing into you.Â
âFuck, Woo,â you mutter under your breath, marvelling at the sound, how it makes your stomach do a flip. The floor feels charged, tension spreading from your ankles to your spine, your words spill out before you can think twice about them, âdid you like that?âÂ
You can feel electricity prickling your scalp at your own question, but he answers it with a quick-spreading smirk brushing over your ear, âIs it okay if I did?â Your eyes widen as he pulls away from you, keeping your faces so close your noses are almost touching. His eyes stay locked on yours and you can see the desperation changing the shape of his face. He asks again, âWhat if I asked you to do it again?âÂ
Itâs so wrong. Theyâre together, theyâre a couple, thereâs no fucking room for you. But what if thereâs a chance that there is?
Yet your fingers tighten in his hair, gripping at his roots harder than before and his head falls back, strong jaw on display, the curvature of his nose, jugular beckoning your lips forward. The music disappears as a tight sound leaves his lips, the rest of the bar fades away as his hips buck into yours, youâre left in awe, dumbfounded, the heat in your core unbearable.Â
âHe likes it a little rough,â San whispers into your ear, voice rough, edged with dominance. His teeth dragging over your earlobe, tongue following, âYouâre gonna make him hard, baby.â
âS-shit,â you manage to get out, body twitching, sinking into San behind you whose hands slide under the hem of your top at your hips, palms hot and callused against your skin. Involuntarily your hips push forward, into Wooyoung, your mind so fuzzy and confused but youâre so fucking horny all you can ask is, âWhat are you doing?âÂ
âIsnât it obvious?â Wooyoung asks, voice playful again, his hand slides up to cup your cheek, thumb sliding over your skin, searing the trail he leaves behind. âYouâre smart, use that big brain.â
âKiss him,â San whispers in your ear, then plants a kiss right below it, using his tongue to seal the spot. You shiver, a whimper leaving your lips, brows tying together. Youâre confused, you donât have time to be, you donât want to question it anymore.
You want to kiss him, youâve never kissed Wooyoung once in your life. Youâve longed to know what he tastes like, how he uses his pretty lips, if his tongue can do all the things youâve imagined it to. Your eyes drop down as he wets his lips again, so glossy and inviting, you bite your lip as his curve into another smile.Â
âYou want to,â Sanâs lips drop to your neck, talking against your skin, âI know you want to, donât deprive yourself, baby.â
You do want to, itâs a dream, your biggest fantasy coming to life. Your hands slide from the nape of Wooyoungâs cheek to cradle his jaw, Wooyoungâs flared eyes give you the green light, you blink once, twice, ignoring everything in your mind that tells you no as you lean in and press your lips to his. His hands cup your cheeks immediately, lips moving with yours, exploratory and relieving all at once, his tongue slips into your mouth like heâs been waiting his whole life to do it, no time to waste. San keeps his hands on your waist, groaning into your skin as he watches you, attaching his lips to your neck, kissing, sucking, licking over the marks he leaves behind.Â
Thereâs a leg between yours, you think itâs Wooyoungâs, maybe Sanâs, but your hips grind against it with each lick of his tongue into your mouth. It feels like heaven, or worse, mind so dazed and confused and horny but so at peace with this being everything youâve ever imagined and more, you canât get enough. You kiss him faster, rougher, arms wrapping around his neck, tongue searching his mouth like you need to embed the taste of him into your bones, he tastes sweet. Minty like this breath, a bitter note of alcohol on his tongue, your hands fall from his cheeks to his chest, sliding down to the hem of his shirt to tuck your hands beneath it.Â
Oh, heâs warm, his body feels like it looks, harsh and unforgiving, delicious. Like he could throw you around if he wanted to, you hope he wants to, unless itâs San who does the throwingâ San.Â
San.Â
You break away from Wooyoung with low lidded eyes and heâs staring at you like you hung the stars in the fucking sky. Eyes glossy, lips swollen, you pull away and immediately heâs following, searching for more.Â
You turn your head and Sanâs already waiting for it, palm splaying over your cheek to pull you into him hastily, lips molding against yours like nostalgia was a sentiment created by the two of you. Like coming home, his tongue slots between your lips, teeth clamping over your bottom lip, tugging on it, you whine into his mouth, back arching into his chest. You needed more.Â
âDo you want us?â He asks into your mouth, breathless. You nod, and he clicks his tongue, âWords, Shy. Tell me you want it.â
âI want it, Iâve wanted it for so long,â youâre quick to admit, breathless yourself, voice raw, honest. âSo, so fucking long, Sannie.â
Wooyoung grabs your face by your cheeks, stealing your attention, forcing you to face him so he can explore your mouth again, San breaking away from your back. You barely notice the loss of heat, melting into Wooyoung, chest pressed into his, hands in his hair, meeting his intentions with your own. He breaks away to peck you once, out of breath, pupils dilated, âWeâve wanted you for even longer.â
Your breath stutters, weak in the knees, you canât process his words, youâd put it on a checklist for later. Voice cracking, wrecked before youâd even begun, you muttered, âLetâs go home.â
You felt bad for the driver with the way you sat on Sanâs lap the whole drive home, switching between him and Wooyoung like you were trying to figure out who was the better kisser. Truth was, you just couldnât get enough of them, Sanâs kiss was a part of your being, his touch was instilled in you, familiar to the point of not wanting to ever let go. Wooyoung was new, fresh, but an itch to a scratch, a relief youâve ached for far too long, he was addicting, like you couldnât stop if you tried.Â
Sweetie is jumping at you when you walk through the threshold and the three of you bend down to pet him like youâve never seen a dog before, like they werenât just ready to strip you in the backseat of a minivan. Liquor still coursing through you, youâre all talking in high pitched voices, making his tail wag, he couldnât choose which of you to give his attention to. After treats youâre in your room, tying your hair up, and naturally, the two men follow you.Â
San makes himself at home on your bed, still in his jeans, jacket still thrown over his shoulders, he leans back on his elbows, eyeing you over the tip of his nose as you meander about your bedroom, maybe stalling, maybe thinking. Maybe you just made all of that up. Maybe you didn't even kiss in the club and you should be diagnosed with schizophrenia.Â
âShy.â
Wooyoung stands in the doorway, arms crossed, smirking.Â
You look between them, jacket halfway off, heart picking up speed all over again, âWhat?â
âOh my god, I love you,â Wooyoungâs smiling as he unfolds his arms, crossing the room, meeting you at your back. He pulls the jacket from your shoulders carefully, pressing his lips to your temple, âWe want you, baby.â
Your eyes find Sanâs on your bed, he sits in a cloud of arousal, still sporting the tent in his jeans. Wooyoung presses his lips to your neck, hands landing on your hips, sliding up your waist, over your chest, your breath catches in your throat, head tilting to let him explore, back leaning into his hold to let him do as he pleases.
âI know itâs been two years,â San stands from the bed, walking towards you in three long steps, slipping his fingers through the belt loops on your jeans. He tugs your hips into him, arching you off of Wooyoung, making your breath catch. The grin that spreads across his cheeks is all arrogance, âBut did you really think you werenât getting fucked the moment we walked through the door?â
Your body ignites in a way you havenât felt in years. You whisper, âI did, Iâ I donât know.â
âDo you want me to fuck you?â He presses his forehead against yours, voice soft like velvet, invading your space again with his fingers uncurling from your belt loops to play with the hem of your jeans, two fingers pinching the button of your fly.Â
Wooyoung moves to your ear, biting the shell of it, not soft enough to hurt, but enough to make you suck in a harsh breath. He plays with your top, sliding it upward, knuckles cold against your skin, âDo you want me to fuck you?â
You whine, sinking into Wooyoung, reaching for Sanâs shirt. You want them to fuck you, god, you want them both, youâll take anything they give you. You can barely get out a small, broken, âYes.â
Accomplishment is bright on Sanâs face as he unbuttons your jeans with ease, Wooyoung pulls away to flip your shirt over your head, the two moving in such quick motions you begin thinking theyâve been waiting for this, too. San helps you step out of your jeans before attaching your lips and itâs more than hungry, heâs starving with the way he tries to devour you, swallow you whole as he turns you both around, unclasping your bra as he walks you to your bed.Â
You fall flat against your mattress with a squeak, feeling bare before them like this, standing above you like vultures. Youâve been here before with San, it feels like seeing an old friend again; but with Wooyoung, thereâs a spark of unfamiliarity, itâs been years since youâve opened up to someone new.
âHoly shit,â Wooyoung groans, dark hair messy around his face, deepening the shadows of his structured face. âYouâre so fucking beautiful, Shy.â
You burn, heat spreading through you, knees closing, âYouâve seen me before, Woo.â
He catches your knees, spreading them as San kneels onto the bed beside you, watching Wooyoung as his eyes sink between your legs. âNot like this, do you even know how fucking wet you are?â
Your hips twitch with the way he holds you open, already searching for more. Wooyoung continues, eyes glossed over, stuck at your center like it was treasure, âFuck, baby, youâre soakinâ through your panties.â
âFor you,â you breathe out, âtaste it.â
His eyes snap up to yours, smile tugging at the corner of his lips, amused. âYeah? That what you want?âÂ
You nod, âYes, Woo, wanna feel your mouth, wanted it for so long.â
His eyes slide to Sanâs with a smirk and the older man meets his stare with a short, cocky, âTold you.â
Wooyoungâs hands curl under your knees, pulling your ass to the edge of the bed before he pulls your panties down your legs, throwing them somewhere on the floor, âDidnât tell me she was impatient.â
âI am,â youâre quick to admit, shameless and desperate, âIâve been.â
He smiles again, lifting one leg and pressing his lips to your ankle, keeping his eyes on yours as he sinks down to his knees. Slow kisses up your calf, your inner thigh, his tongue leaves a trail, your breath hitches in your throat as he breaks away just to tug his shirt over his head by the collar.Â
âNostalgic, hm?â San mumbles, close to your ear, laying down with one elbow propped up to watch, âWeâve been in this position before.â
You gasp as Wooyoungâs teeth graze your other thigh, at the sensitive part on the inside, eyes flickering up to yours to see your reaction. Through gritted teeth, one arm reaching out for San, you whisper, âMm, missed it.â
âHeâs good with his mouth, yâknow,â San leans in closer, pressing his lips to your cheek then your jaw as Wooyoung finally leans forward, his nose meeting your folds before his lips make contact. A strangled moan escapes you, hips immediately bucking into him, other hand flying between your legs to take root in his hair.Â
As his tongue swipes through your folds your back arches, your moan exposing every feeling of relief, of how much you wanted this, needed this. His name drips off your tongue and he groans at the sound, âYou sound so pretty, Shybaby.â
âPrettier when sheâs louder,â you can feel San smirk into your skin, âyou have no idea how shameless she can get. Suck on her clit, Woo.â
As his lips wrap around your clit your moan heightens in pitch, louder than before, fingers tugging harshly at his scalp as your hips buck into his mouth, âHoly shit, Wooyoung.â
He groans into you, fingers curling into your thighs, soothing over your clit with his tongue, âTaste so good, pussy so pretty, canât believe I havenât done this sooner.â
Your face grows hot as his tongue flattens over your folds, flicking at your clit with precision, no haste to his actions, heâs exploring you. Seeing what you like, what makes you gasp, what makes you moan, what makes your stomach clench in pleasure.Â
His nose glides over your clit and you buck into him again, his tongue circling your entrance, drinking up every ounce of your arousal. Sanâs fingers find your hair, âMm, she liked that, Woo.â
âYou like my nose?â His eyes flicker up to you and you nod shamelessly, humming your agreement. He repeats the movement and your back arches as he moves into a rhythm, tongue fucking into you while his nose glides over your clit, his movements timed perfectly with each jerk of your hips. Â
âWanna see you ride it,â San whispers into your ear and you gasp out, one hand curling into the sheets beneath you. âNext time.â
âYes, fuck,â you mumble through gritted teeth, âwant it, need it.âÂ
âWanna watch you cum,â Sanâs fingers find your chest, the pads of them running over your hardened nipples, pinching at your sensitive skin. Louder now, your moans slurring together, your stomach curls in pleasure, pressure building in your hips.Â
âDonât stop, Woo,â you whisper, a broken sound, using your fingers in his hair to rock your hips against his face, âso good, just like that.â
He grunts in response, letting you use him, adding more pressure and youâre locking up around him, whimpering as Sanâs fingers pinch harder at your chest, itâs enough to pull you right to the edge.
âThere you go,â San encourages, lips buried in your hair, âuse him, let me see you cum against his face, make yourself cum for me, câmon.âÂ
âGonnaââ thereâs panic in your voice like you couldnât believe you were reaching your peak so easily, but as his fingers tighten into your thighs harder, tongue lolled out for you to ride, the slight sting in your skin combined with the stimulation to your clit throws you over with a loud cry, pleasure washing over you in waves, body trembling beneath their touch, your skin on fire.Â
âYes, so good for us,â San whispers, voice coated in praise, âsuch a good girl, Shy. Missed watching you cum, wanna feel you do it around my cock.â
You whimper, eyes cresting open to see him above you, dimples showing as he speaks. Dark hair messily sprawled across his forehead, cheeks pink, eyes soft and warm, gaze filled with so much love it makes you dizzy. Your hand lifts from Wooyoungâs hair to cradle Sanâs cheek, pulling him down into a messy kiss, tongue slotting into his mouth softly as Wooyoung presses soft kisses to the tip of your mound, between your hipbones, up your stomach.Â
Your back arches as his lips wrap around one of your nipples, tongue swiping over them, soothing where San had pinched, it makes you whimper, one hand falling from Sanâs cheek to dig into Wooyoungâs hair again, softer this time. Nails grazing his scalp, ankles crossing over his back, everything felt slow, filled with purpose, like each one of their movements were solely for your pleasure.Â
You needed more. You needed them to treat you like theyâd treated each other a few nights ago, you needed the bed to hit the wall, to hear Wooyoung whimpering, Sanâs domineering voice. Your other hand finds Sanâs hair, gripping at the spiral of his crown, making him grunt into your mouth, âShit.â
âNeed more,â youâre panting into his mouth, âneed you to fuck me, I need it.â
Wooyoungâs arms scoop under your back to pull you up as San leans back to groan, you meet his lips hastily, already seated on his thighs, your legs bracket his hips, your bare chest pressed to his. Denim below you, you curse at the feeling of texture, sturdy, rough fabric, âGet these off.â
âImpatient,â he smirks into your lips, âyou needy? Desperate to fuck us?â
Skin alight with wildfire, your fingers find the hair at the back of his neck, tugging as you sit upward, following his face as you pull it backward by his hair, âGonna make me say it again?â
A smile breaks out across his face, one full of excitement, âHoly shit, Shyââ
âWho are you talking to like that, huh?â Sanâs at your back, chest pressed to your shoulderblades, feeling so big itâs menacing, âYou should be thanking him for letting you cum on his face.â
Staring down at Wooyoung, his grin had gone cocky again, one brow raising with your hands still rooted in his hair. Your fingers tighten again and his brows furrow in pleasure, a small moan croaking from his lips, itâs satisfactory enough. You mumble, âThank you.â
San hums in contentment behind you, âGood girl.â
Wooyou watches in awe as San lifts you off his lap, turning you to face him with ease, standing on his knees he wraps a hand around your jaw, kissing you with more force than he had all night. Tongue pushing past your lips, teeth clashing, you melt beneath him, hands finding his bare pecs to hold onto as he devours your lips, your taste, your pleasure.
âYou want me to treat you like a doll?â He asks into your mouth, voice harsh, edged like a blade.Â
âWant you to treat me how you treat Woo,â you whimper, the admission falling from your lips without a second thought, until you feel him smirk. Hazy from a minute of his mouth on yours, the heat of shame couldnât find you.Â
âKnew you were listening,â Wooyoung is at your shoulders, hands on your waist, traveling to your front to grab two handfuls of your chest. âFuckinâ pervert, listening to us fuck.â
Your back arches, fingertips digging into Sanâs skin, voice coming out tight, âHard not to hear when the bed frame is hitting the wall.â
San stares at you like heâs debating fucking the cockiness out of you, âAlmost forgot how much of a brat you can be.â Your grin is shameless, daring almost, and he doesnât like it one bit. âGonna look at me like that when Iâm fucking you within an inch of your life?â
Your brows knit together, lips parting at his words, core clenching around nothing. âPlease,â you whimper, hands sliding to his shoulders to pull him forward, âplease.â
He doesnât move, a stone wall before you. Instead he asks, âDid you touch yourself?â Left in the briefs glued to his lower half, your eyes sink to the outline of his length obvious in the polyester clinging to every inch of his skin. His face is lined by confidence, âMade that pretty pussy cum thinking about me fucking you, too?âÂ
Softly, you moan, âYes.â
âShould have come in the room,â Wooyoungâs lips find your neck, pulling you back into him as his palms knead into your chest. âWoulda made you cum so hard.â
You whine, sinking into his hot skin, chiseled abdomen searing your back. With your knees spread, your eyes are glossy as you stare up at San who grips his length over his briefs, mouth watering with his sculpted body on display, heâs changed so much over the years. This body is bigger, bulkier, stronger, heâs a completely different San than the one you knew back then. The things he could do to you now cross your mind, sinking straight down to the pit in your belly, your core clenching around nothing.Â
âWanna touch?â He asks, still sporting his cocky grin. You nod against Wooyoungâs chest, writhing beneath his palms, his touches only edging you further. He dips his chin down to his length, âCâmere, baby.â
You crawl forward on your palms until youâre standing on your knees before him, pressing your palms up to his shoulders, feeling the curves of his muscles before sliding down to his toned chest, palms laying flat, feeling his heartbeat beneath his skin. They slide down to his abdomen, so sculpted like heâs made of stone, your head tips forward, tongue lolling out of your mouth to glide across the dips and peaks, moaning at the taste of his skin, sweaty, salty, San. He pushes out a heavy breath as your head dips lower, fingers sinking into his waistband, tugging his briefs down.Â
âWanna taste,â you mutter mindlessly, mind whirling, craving his cock, missing it. It springs out of his briefs, slapping up between his hipbones, thick and red and leaking, your mouth waters. You blow cool air from your lips and he hisses, cock twitching, making you smile. Your eyes flicker upward, âWant my mouth?âÂ
His heavy brows are furrowed, hips tilted forward, his hands come forward to cup your cheeks. âWanna fuck you, Shy.â
Your stomach fucking churns at the sound of his voice, whiny and desperate, you clench around nothing at the thought. You missed him so badly you ached for it, the feeling of him inside you, his cock so thick leaving you full enough itâs almost overwhelming to have him seated inside.
Before you have the chance to move you feel two heavy palms land on your hips, your head turns, back arching on command. Wooyoung knelt behind you, cock standing tall between his hipbones, the pretty pink tip leaking against his lower abdomen, so bronzy and veiny and strong. His eyes follow the trail of the base of your spine up to your eyes, âLet me have a turn first.âÂ
You whimper, arching lower, knees spreading to allow him entrance, whining out a breathy, âYes.â
San holds your cheeks steady, âCan you take it?â
Youâre on fire, hips pushing back against Wooyoung with impatience, mouth filling with saliva. âYes, yes, I can take it, use meâ Please?â
A guttural moan spills from the two of them, San rips his briefs off his ankles as he sits back on his calves, one arm behind him holding up his weight. You feel Wooyoung slide two fingers up your spine, rippling over each vertebrae and then back down again, the other hand hooked on your hip squeezing as he grinds his cock against your folds, slippery and wet, he lets out a tangled whine at the feeling.Â
âYou sure, Shy?â He asks, âPussyâs begging to be fucked.â
âNeed this,â you mumble, âneed you, donât hold back.â
âI wonât,â Wooyoung huffs, âdonât think I can, anyway.â
You turn to find San staring at you, his eyes so warm and inviting, lined with impatience he doesnât dare verbalize. His jaw clenches as you lean down, tongue poking out to meet the leaking tip of his cock as Wooyoung lines himself up, letting his cock catch on your entrance with each slide up your folds. Sanâs other hand finds your hair as you lick up the underside of him, his head tipping backward as a moan tumbles out from his chest, abdomen already clenching at the pleasure.Â
âFuck, that mouth,â San hisses as you let a mouthful of saliva drip onto his cock, using one hand to spread it along his length before you take the tip in your mouth fully, his grip tightens in your roots. âMissed those pretty lips, baby.âÂ
You canât answer, a strangled noise forcing itself out of you as the tip of Wooyoungâs cock prods your entrance. His hands find your hips, squeezing, âBreathe for me, baby.â His tone is absent, like he needed the reminder more than you did, laser-focused on how your entrance is already sucking him in.
You breathe through your nose, eyes screwing shut as he pushes in, filling you with his length inch by inch, slowly but steadily. A high whimper punches through your lips, mouth unwrapping from Sanâs cock to dip your head down, hips involuntarily pushing back onto Wooyoung, wanting to be full, fast.Â
âPatience,â Wooyoung squeezes your hips harder, more confidence in his voice, âthis tight lilâ thing needs to be stretched out, take it easy, baby. Weâll give you everything, I promise.â
You havenât felt this full in years. Even sopping wet you could feel him carving into you, making space for himself where you havenât been properly filled in so longâ the pleasure was tantalizing, slight sting of the stretch mixing into a cocktail of euphoria, your eyes fluttered back into your head, hand tightening around the base of Sanâs cock.
âBreathe, Shygirl,â San encourages, âlet him in.â
Your eyes open, flickering up to San who watches Wooyoung over your head, your body the bridge connecting the two men. The sight of him, flushed, chest patched with a rosy hue, your tongue slides out of your mouth to lick up the underside of him again, taking the tip of him into your mouth.Â
His hips buck upward, surprised at your warmth wrapped around him, he pushes his cock deeper into your throat and you gag involuntarily, other hand tightening into the sheets below you. You breathe through it, your nose pushing out air as you take him deeper, head bobbing along his length as Wooyoung fully sheathes himself inside you.Â
He waits there a moment, fingers gripping the plush of your ass, his voice utterly gone as he says, âSheâs so fuckinâ tight, Sannie.â
Sanâs eyes flicker up to him, âMake her cum on your cock, wanna see.â
He pulls out all the way just to slam back inside and your throat constricts around Sanâs length, making you gag again, eyes watering, blurring your vision. Wooyoung whines, âFuck, baby, holy shit, Sannie.â
Hearing him moan out Sanâs name while he fucks you etches stars into your vision. Your hips start pushing back, your hand leaving Sanâs length to take purchase in the sheets as your hips buck against Wooyoungâs length in the same rhythm that you bob your head along Sanâs cock. Both men moan, a pitiful sound, lewd and desperate, it makes you clench around Wooyoung, nose diving down to press into the tuft of hair at the base of Sanâs cock.Â
âThere you go,â San huffs, voice strangled, you look up to see him sink his teeth into his bottom lip. âFuck, so pretty, taking my cock so fucking well. Missed seeing you like this.â
You moan around him, core clenching and you can hear the whine caught in the back of Wooyoungâs throat, his fingers curling into the plush of your ass, squeezing so fucking hard it rips a tight noise from your chest, dying on Sanâs cock.Â
âDonât know how long Iâll last, fuck,â Wooyoung chokes out, hands sliding up to your hipbones.
San does his best to make his smile appear cocky, âWhenâs the last time you fucked, huh?â He gasps the moment the words leave his lips, as you swallow around his length, he curses under his breath, tightening a hand in your roots.
Wooyoung speaks through gritted teeth, âToo fucking long, shit, sheâs suckinâ me inââ
âCanât wait to feel,â San grunts, hips twitching into your mouth, forcing you to take him deeper, âmouth just as dangerous, youâre a demon, Shy.â
You try to smile, heâs too wide in your mouth, in your throat, you settle for shooting him one with your eyes. Youâre in rhythm now, head bobbing at the same pace as Wooyoung fucking into you, being so full, so manhandled by the two of them even if you were the one who put yourself here feels so good. Wooyoungâs cock is thinner than Sanâs, longer, you can feel how it curves along the front side of your walls, hitting every single spot you need it to.Â
It makes your knees wobble, your fingers twisting in the sheets, it feels too fucking good. Itâs been a long while since youâve breached an orgasm around someoneâs cock, itâs muscle memory the way your arch comes back to you, the rhythm in which you fuck against him to get yourself off, the pressure building so different from when you do it yourself.Â
Wooyoung notices, landing a sharp smack to your ass, âUsinâ me? I can feel you fucking back.â
You pop off of Sanâs length to turn your head halfway, âYâfeel so good, Woo, canât help it.â
His brows tie together, jaw falling slack, âFuck, donât stop, baby, donât stopââ
âInside, kay?â Between a moan and a whimper, âDonât pull out.â
His palms push into the plush of your ass again as you take Sanâs cock into your mouth, stretching your lips wide to take him, using the slick youâd left behind to glide your tongue all the way down, choking yourself on him, bobbing your head in rhythm again.Â
Wooyoungâs hips stutter, he curses under his breath, one of his hands slides around to your front, between your legs, âCanâtâ need you to cum first, baby, please.â
Two fingers to the bundle of nerves between your legs, your hips jerk, back arching impossibly deeper, a gargled moan vibrates Sanâs cock and he curses low, hands in your hair pulling, itâs overstimulating, how much is happening all at once.Â
Wooyoungâs fingers take all but three tight circles at your clit to send you freefalling over the edge, pressure blowing, pleasure spreading through your body like fireworks reaching each limb, every nerve ending. San tugs you off his cock by your hair, one hand fisting the base of him to stop his orgasm from hitting, and Wooyoung cries out as he barrels into you, hips finally stilling when heâs fully sheathed, filling you with warmth.Â
Youâre gaping, staring at San wide-eyed, âWhy?â
It takes a moment for you to process the warmth. Like sitting before a fire, itâs comforting, head dropping to let it sink inâ nostalgic, you missed this.Â
âWanna cum inside you,â he answers simply, âcâmere.â
Manhandling you all over again, he pulls you onto his lap, you canât help but reach for Wooyoung behind you. San wastes no time, ignoring your heaving chest, the exhaustion in your eyes youâre hiding with adrenaline, with one hand on your hips he lines you up over his cock, easing you down onto his length, you hiss at the stretch, at the width of him.Â
âBig stretch,â his grin is taunting, âyou can do it, baby, easy.â
âFuck,â you whimper, arms stretching behind you, âWoo.â Searching for the man who just came inside you, heâs at your back, broad and steady, arms wrapping around you.Â
âIâm here,â he whispers into the curve of your neck, moving your hair away from your sticky neck to press his lips into you, and itâs the comfort you needed to start grinding your hips into Sanâs cock, moans spilling from your lips, small gasps and whines as he fills you up perfectly, walls molding to the shape of him like heâd never left.
âFuck, Sannie,â you murmur, ââs too much, missed your cock, but itâs too much.â
âYou can do it,â he leans into you, groaning at the feeling of you around him, he searches for your lips. You pick your head up to meet him, pressing your lips to his, tongue sliding into his mouth, tasting every inch you can find. He grins into your lips, âLook at you, taking it like you did all those years ago. Still my fuckinâ slut, arenât you?â
You gasp, hips twitching against him, clenching hard, and he curses under his breath like he wasnât just taunting you. Lips still ghosting yours, he whispers, âStill like my mouth? All that nasty shit?âÂ
You nod, nipples brushing against his chest with every bounce of your hips, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. All you can manage is, âMore.â
âI know, baby,â his hips jerk up and you cry out, arching into Wooyoung behind you who reaches around your front, fingers pinching at your nipples, teeth at your ear. San, voice wrecked, grunts as he says, âStill need a little pain with the pleasure to get you off, huh?â
You canât answer, eyelids fluttering, hazy at the feeling of Wooyoungâs release spilling out of you onto Sanâs thighs, the squelching sound of it coating his cock, making it easy for you to bounce yourself against him like a bitch in heat.Â
Wooyoung chuckles into your ear, low and velvety, it sends a shiver up your spine. âNever woulda guessed that from you, baby.â
It makes a lazy grin break out across your cheeks, head turning to kiss him, all teeth and tongue, messy and delicious. âReally?âÂ
âMy Shygirl,â his voice is filled with affection, lips pressed to the side of your head, parted and spilling spit onto your temple, your cheeks, it feels dirtyâ so fucking sexy you canât control the way you hump Sanâs cock, slurring mindless babbles and strained noises you can barely comprehend.Â
âOur Shygirl,â San corrects him, eyeing Wooyoung over your shoulder, a severity to his tone that makes your eyes flick upward in question.Â
His brows tied with pleasure, sweat dripping down his brow, dark hair messy and tangled on his head, he looks like a fucking dream. He is a dream, this is a dream, harmonious with the two as if youâve done this a thousand times, like it was always supposed to be this way, he can read the question on your tongue. He cups your cheek with a hand, sliding it to the back of your head to take root in your hair, tugging you towards him close enough for your lips to touch, âItâs different this time.â
You try to kiss him with your slacked jaw but itâs a trading of spit more than it is a kiss, âDifferent.â
âMine,â he growls, a hand wrapping around your back, fingers digging into your skin, his words too coherent to be born of the heat of the moment. âWanted this for too long, both of you, youâre both mine.â
âYours,â you repeat, confirm with an airy head, echoed by Wooyoung as your hips stutter against Sanâs cock, head tipped against the younger manâs shoulder, âf-fuck me.â
âSit,â itâs an order from San to Wooyoung thatâs answered on command, he sits on his calves before uncurling his legs from below him, cock half-hard laying stiff between his hips.Â
San maneuvers you with two hands on your waist, you gasp as he tugs you off his cock effortlessly, laying you back on Wooyoungâs chest like it took no fucking strength at all. Strong arms wrap around you as your skin meets his, tilting your head to the side to see him, to kiss him, he smiles as he sees you, teeth on display.Â
âSo fucking pretty,â Wooyoung looks at you the same way he always does, stars in his eyes, like he couldnât smile without his whole face if he tried, like the look was solely for you. âYouâre mine too, yâknow.â
You reach up with one arm to pull his head down to yours, the kiss softer than those youâve shared tonight, more controlled like you needed a moment to let his words sink in, your mind too fuzzy to process the weight of what that meant.Â
Sanâs fingers hook under your knees, pushing them backward until they leave you spread, lining himself up all over again, pushing inside in one quick motion.Â
A different feeling of full, Wooyoung holds your face against his as you whisper a cry into his mouth, your lips still touching as he grins, âBeen waiting for this too, havenât you? You wanna be ours?âÂ
Body going limp in his hold, hand falling from his cheek mindlessly, your body feels like fucking jelly. You nod, breath quickening, short and tight at the feeling of San fucking into you, âNeed to be, waited so long.âÂ
Sanâs grip tightens under your knees, picking up speed, your head turns to see him and god you want to take a picture, want to frame it and hang it on the wall; brows furrowed, lips parted, eyes focused on your meeting below, his abdomen flexing as he rolls his hips into you, it makes your toes curl where they hang in the air.Â
Face scrunching up, you reach for him, pulling him down to you, âNeed tâkiss you.â
Messy, sloppy, wet, you can feel him in your stomach as your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close. With the last peck to your lips he presses his forehead against yours, âI missed you, I love youâ taking me sâfucking perfectly, like you always doââ
A strangled noise fights to leave your chest, heavy where it sits trapped, the words forcing the warmth in the pit of your belly to bloom, explode, shattering every wall youâd built up in the past few weeks.Â
âI love you,â itâs a broken whisper, an admission you canât keep inside any longer. A little louder, a little firmer, âI love you.âÂ
He smiles into the kiss he plants on your lips, âYeah?âÂ
âHey,â Wooyoung interjects, hands cupping your cheeks to tilt you backward, âI love you, too.âÂ
Youâd smile if San didnât pick up speed all over again, instead youâre babbling a mess of I love you, I love you too into Wooyoungâs mouth, lips barely touching enough to call it a kiss, so mindless and breathless and overwhelmed all you can do is feel.Â
Wooyoungâs hand leaves your cheek to sink between yours and Sanâs bodies, two fingers pressed to your clit, swirling tight circles on the bundles of nerves. Your body fights to jerk between them, trapped between sweat and muscle, head lolling backward on Wooyoungâs shoulder, eyes squeezed shut.Â
San switches his angle, strong arms tilting your hips upward to fuck into you harder, to angle his cock to hit the sweet spot inside you, building the pit of pressure of your stomach with purpose.Â
Your eyes blow wide, breath quickening, âSanâ Sannieââ
âCâmon,â he encourages, sitting backward to fuck into you faster, âLemme feel it, want it.âÂ
Incoherent babbles and the clenching of your cunt has your hands reaching for his forearms, fingernails pressing into his skin, all while Wooyoung keeps his pace on your clit, rhythm perfect, pressure nothing short of unbearable.Â
âWooâ Sannieââ you donât know who to cry for, hips fighting to meet Sanâs thrusts, grinding into Wooyoungâs fingers, âIâm gonna cum.âÂ
âLet go, baby,â Wooyoungâs voice is light and encouraging but heâs babbling as if San was fucking him, âlet him feel it, he wants it so bad, he loves it, loves you.âÂ
Breath caught in your chest, your jaw drops as your pleasure hits its peak, meeting Sanâs gaze as your orgasm washes over you like a fucking hurricane, utterly speechless as your legs shake in the open air, inescapable euphoria reaching every inch of skin.Â
âFuck, Shy,â San groans, âyouâre so fucking sexy, oh my god, oh my godââ
You donât have time to respond before Wooyoung is kissing you again, tilting your head backward with one hand as San extends your orgasm with every thrust of his cock, Wooyoungâs fingers slowing on your clit, letting you ride it out until youâre a whining, twitching mess.Â
âFuck,â you mutter harshly, letting Wooyoung guide the sloppy kiss as Sanâs hips stutter, rhythm quickening to something ruthless, chasing his own high, a selfish pace.Â
âGonna fill this pussy up,â Sanâs babbling, âall mine, mine to fill,â his voice is somewhere far, deep in the moment, âI love it, love you, my Shygirl, shitââ
Erratic thrusts come to a hilt, stalling fully seated, you moan softly into Wooyoungâs mouth as heavy warmth fills you steadily, making you shiver.Â
You break away from Wooyoung to look at San, eyelids low but you couldnât miss the way his skin glows, as if you poured water over a sculpture made of gold, you stare in awe at his heaving chest, how his abdomen still clenches, flexing each muscle.Â
âPretty,â the word is mindless, said through a breath.Â
He leans down, pressing his palms to the bed on either side of you, attaching your lips in a slow, steady kiss. âThatâs you,â he whispers, âmy pretty girl.âÂ
He picks his head up to Wooyoung behind you, pressing a kiss to his lips, too. âMy pretty boy.âÂ
Wooyoung holds him close, you feel him melt under Sanâs touch, his words. âI love you,â Wooyoung mumbles, half-heard to you because he says it into Sanâs mouth, âso much.âÂ
âI love you too, baby,â San presses one more kiss to his lips before he plants one on your forehead, âand I love you, too.âÂ
âDo you really?â The question is pure instinct, âLike, actually?âÂ
âBaby,â he says it like itâs obvious, like itâs silly for you to even question it. âIâve spent my whole life loving you.âÂ
There's a heaviness to your chest, the same tightness you felt when he said it earlier, it travels to your throat, the heat under your eyes pushing water into your lash line.Â
âNo,â he says softly, âdonât cry.â
You canât help your smile, sniffling, giggling as two tears spill down your cheeks, âWhy didnât you tell me?âÂ
âHold on,â his voice is still delicate, like glass, he sits back on his knees to carefully slip out of you, âcome up here.âÂ
You move with Wooyoung, the younger man half carrying you to the top of the bed, your heads falling into your pillows, their bodies on either side of you in your queen-sized bed like it was big enough to fit all three of you.Â
Your back is halfway pressed up against San, eyes hazy and low with Wooyoung in view, you ask him, âAnd you?âÂ
His smile is soft but his face reads relief like heâs been sitting on this information for ages. âIâve loved you probably since I moved in, but Iâve wanted you since the day I met you.â
âThat I knew,â you sniff, giggling again, turning your head up to see San whoâs staring at you like youâre his entire world, âwhy didnât you guys tell me?âÂ
âItâs not an easy thing to say,â thereâs a small, apologetic smile on his lips.Â
Wooyoung adds, âWhen we started living together I just assumed we were friend-zoned forever. When San and I got together, like, half of our relationship was based on the fact that we both still loved you while loving each other.âÂ
Sanâs arm wraps around your front, tucking you further into him, âWhen youâre best friends and roommates and a little too close for comfort, itâs hard to not fall in love.âÂ
âEspecially when all of those things are you,â Wooyoung adds, shuffling towards you like he couldnât get close enough, âwhy didnât you tell us how you felt?â
âBecause you started fucking dating each other,â you answer like youâve been waiting for the question, amusement overshadowing the truth to your words, âI didnât think I was invited to the party.âÂ
Wooyoung leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, he looks at you when he pulls away, so much love and honesty swirling in chocolate it makes you shiver, but because heâs Wooyoung, he starts singing, âI only threw this party for you, only threw this party for you, for you for youâŠâ
You snort, giggling into Sanâs chest, and the older man continues, loud and proud, âYou could watch me pull up on your body like itâs summer take my clothes off in the waterââ
You join him, just as loud and maybe even prouder, ââsplash around and get you blessed like holy water, I donât know what youâve been waitinâ for, you know that Iâve been waitinâ for you.âÂ
Wooyoung laughs, turning on his back, you watch how his chest expands and falls with each loud, obnoxious cackle. He turns his head to face you, âIf you think about it, that song is kinda us.âÂ
âI think that song is Jay Gatsby,â you correct him, âIâm kinda Jay Gatsby and you guys are kinda Daisy Buchanan.âÂ
âNo, weâre Jay Gatsby and youâre Daisy Buchanan,â San says a little more confidently than you did, âwe threw the party and you didn't come.âÂ
âOh we are not arguing about this,â you turn your head to furrow your brows at him, reiterating, âbut let the records show that I was not invited to said party.âÂ
Wooyoung is quick with his answer, âWe only threw the damn party for you.âÂ
Itâs like nothing has changed.Â
Curled up on the chaise of the couch, you in the corner, Wooyoungâs head on your lap with his leg stretched one way, Sanâs head is between your legs with both of your bodies laid out the other way.Â
Dirty Dancing is playing on the flatscreen across the room, Sweetie cozy right beneath you, on the hardwood floor with his body pressed up against the deck of the couch, everything, everyone you love is in one room.Â
A month of being together, the only thing thatâs changed in your relationship is where you sleep, and that you kissâ and fuck, entirely too much for a typical honeymoon phase, but as San says, youâre making up for lost time.
Waking up together, going to work together, sleeping together, you wonder after years of being attached at the hip how you donât feel tired of them. You suppose you never could, the two men being fibers of your being, embedded into you like the essence of your own being, itâs more that you canât live without them.Â
And the more you think about it, the more you wonder how you didnât notice it sooner. So hyper focused on what you want, you couldnât realize what you already had, there was a reason your relationship has always been too close for comfort.Â
But now you have them, and you love them, and they fucking love youâ they are not afraid to show it, theyâd scream it to the rooftops if you let them. Sometimes you almost do let them, just to let the feeling sink in a little further, to let their love overflow the gap in your chest thatâs been full for a month now.Â
One hand in Sanâs hair, the other drawing shapes into Wooyoungâs chest, a thought dawns on you. You ask, âHey, remember that night at Steer?â Their heads tilt toward, eyeing you over their eyebrows, nodding. âWhatever happened to Yunho?âÂ
Wooyoung snorts, San shakes his head, it makes you giggle. Wooyoung answers, âI told him his work was done and that we could take it from there.âÂ
âHis work was done?â You question, âWhat work?â
âYou told him you love us the night you went on the date with him, right?â San suddenly asks, looking over his forehead at you once more. You nod like this was common information and he laughs so loud it makes Sweetie sit up on his hind legs.Â
âI told you, you called me schizophrenic!â San shouts over the couch at Wooyoung, sitting up on an elbow, âI knew it, my Shy senses were tingling.âÂ
âShy senses?â You ask, a question ignored.Â
Wooyoung sits up too, eyes wide, âWhaâ? Maybe you should be a detective, Sannie, Iâm serious.âÂ
âWhat are you talking about?â You ask a little louder, âInform me right this second, please.âÂ
âI know you so well itâs scary,â San lays back down, one hand lazily thrown over the side of the couch to scratch Sweetieâs head, calming him. âLike the back of my hand, baby.âÂ
His words make you smile, settling back into the couch again. Wooyoung turns on his elbow to see you, âSan knew that Yunho knew,â he shakes his head, âwith literally no proof, just vibes. Scary.âÂ
You run your hands through his hair, your smile completely teasing, âYouâll get there, baby. One more decade.âÂ
Wooyoungâs top lip curls, âNot you, too. I know you just as well, if not better than Sanââ
Sanâs head picks up with a gasp, âYou do notâ!â
Your giggles cut through their bickering, âYouâre both stupid, I love you.âÂ
âWe love you too,â they mumble, settling back into their positions on the couch, where your hands fell to their hair, scratching their scalps into silence. Your smile stays as your head lifts back to the movie across the room, not actually watching, too consumed with contentment and that lovesick feeling in your stomach.Â
synopsis: You and Jongho canât stand each other, but the universe didnât seem to catch the signals. Everywhere you went, he was there. Friends teased you both, saying you liked each other so much that you were manifesting each other everywhere. Ugh, as if you would ever like him, right?
w.c: 9.1k~
genre: enemies? to lovers?, forced proximity (kinda), smut, college au
warnings: swearing, misunderstandings, alcohol consumption, throwing up, no use of y/n, semi-public sex, unprotected pinv (jinjja don't do it friends), creampie, thick-cock jongho (yum), a little bit of dirty talking, nicknames (sunshine), praising, plsplspls let me know if i missed anything!
a/n: this is my humble contribution to the amazing live alive collab! thank u thank u thank u sm @sungbeam for hosting this amazing event! i met such amazing people through this and i will be forever grateful for having joined<3 this fic is literally my child and the longest fic i've written in my whole life so i hope u love it as much as i do. <3
SMUT BELOW THE CUT MINORS DNI.
âౚà§ËâĄË àŁȘâౚà§ËâĄË
The morning was already doomed from the start.Â
You were woken up by the voice of your roommate, waking you up before the loud slamming of the door when she left.Â
Sleep drained from your body instantly as your blurry gaze landed on your phone's screen, the clock reading â8:53 AMâ. âShit!â You jumped up from the mattress, limbs tangling in the sheets in the process, before you managed to actually get up from bed.Â
Within minutes, you were sprinting down the hallways, clothes haphazardly thrown onto your body in the middle of your rush. A string of curses made their way out of your mouth as you neared the study hall, the screen of your phone screaming at you, saying that it was already 9:02 with big ass numbers. You hoped that Mr. Yoon was slightly late as always, and he wouldnât close the door in your nose. Your steps slowed once you neared the classroom, not wanting to further embarrass yourself by showing up completely breathless and disheveled.Â
âAh, Ms. L/N.â Mr. Yoon clicked his lips with his hand on the door handle of the classroom. âYouâre lucky today; had you been five seconds later, youâd be staring through the window.â He moved out of the way to let you in. The crimson in your face was obvious, and it instantly drained when you saw the only seat available in the whole classroom.
Since when did everyone show up to this class?
âMorning, sunshine. So graceful of you to grant us your presence.â You sucked in a deep breath as you sat down on the chair, counting to ten mentally while trying to align every chakra in your body to not punch him square in the face in the middle of the classroom.
âUgh, shut up, Jongho. Iâm in no mood to deal with you,â he snickered at your words, watching you glare at him, finding you cute even while snapping at him.Â
âCome on, what happened to you? Rough night? Were you up all night thinking about me?â The mere thought sent shivers down your spine, a grimace on your features as you took out your study material.Â
âPlease, as if I would ever.â You snorted slightly, shifting your entire focus to the class that was already starting, so that you could earnestly ignore him.Â
The class went by smoothly, Mr. Yoon talking about the different types of property law while you took notes, focused on his words. A small crease between your eyebrows appeared while you read some cases the professor had mentioned, which Jongho found devastatingly adorable. Still, he was never going to admit it out loud.Â
âThis project is quite important for your grade,â Mr. Yoon continued explaining once the time for the classâs end was nearing, moving over to his desk, picking up his glasses, and setting them low on his nose before picking up a piece of paper with some letters scribbled on it. âItâll run all semester, and you will do it in pairs.â He emphasized, looking over the rim of his glasses at his students.
He began reading names off it, a groan dying at the back of your throat when you realized he had chosen the pairs, bummed that you probably wouldnât be paired up with one of your friends. Your ears perked up when you heard your name, body still as you waited for the next name to be read off the paper.Â
â...Choi Jongho,â he finished reading, making your blood run hot, and your eyes roll as Mr. Yoon calmly took off his glasses and set them on his desk with the piece of paper. âYou will all work together, during the duration of this assignment, and before any of you ask, no, you may not switch partners at any point. Youâre adults, and you should learn to work with people you donât like.â You bit back a groan as you threw your head back, already feeling irritated at the thought of being stuck with Jongho, even more, for the rest of the semester.Â
âYouâre all dismissed, have a good day.â Mr. Yoon swept his hair back and began gathering his things, most of the students scrambling out the moment the words left him. You continued gathering your things, shoving them down into your bag.Â
âSee you soon, sunshine.â Jongho slung his backpack on one of his shoulders, shooting you a small smile that only made you roll your eyes.
âHopefully not, Jongho.â You stood up, walking past him as you hung your bag on your shoulder. Leaving him there, with a small smile on his face as you walked away.Â
Ugh, youâre so endearing sometimes.Â
The following week had been pure suffering, as you would describe it. You and Jongho, stuck in the library for hours on end, slowly making progress on your project. It was a personal hell of yours; you were sure you would end up with wrinkles by the end of the semester, given how much scowling and grimacing you were doing at him.Â
âNo, Jongho. Thatâs not the way weâre supposed to do it.â You argued, pointing to the document containing the project's instructions.Â
âYes, but this way itâll look better, and the professor will be satisfied either way,â he argued back, sliding his own laptop where the shared document was. You sucked in a deep breath, a hand coming to scratch the back of your head, asking every god to give you patience, because if they gave you strength, you might strangle him. Â
âThat makes no sense, Jongho. Just do it the way the instructions say.â Your hand slid down to rub your temple. The clicking of his tongue reached your ears, and you sighed. âDo it.â
âFine, no need to get feisty, sunshine.â he lifted his hands in mock defeat, running one of them through his soft black hair.Â
This was going to be a long semester.Â
ââËïœĄâ
âI just canât believe he paired us together, Woo.â Your eyes rolled, leaning your head on Wooyoungâs shoulder while you walked around campus.Â
âRelax, itâll be over before you notice,â he ran a hand through your hair. âBesides, what could be so daunting about working with him anyway?â he quirked a brow, curious as usual.Â
âHeâs just an asshole.â Your own brows creased, nose scrunching at the same time. âAnd he should leave me the fuck alone.â
âI never really understood what happened between the two of you.â Wooyoung shrugged, âYou went on like one date, and then you came back hating himâŠWait, he didnât do anything to you, right?â His steps stilled immediately, his brows furrowed in concern as his hands wrapped around your shoulders to still you.Â
âNo, and it wasnât a date. And I never liked him; in fact, I hate him.â Wooyoung frowned, as if his face was saying, Seriously? âWhat?â his hands lifted off your shoulders, holding them up and shrugging.Â
âNothing, I just donât really remember you hating him.â The blood rushed to your cheeks, one of your hands coming to shove him, as a way to shut him up. âIn fact, I remember you running around your room, not knowing what to wear.âÂ
âWell, I do.â Your voice was firm, rolling your eyes as you continued walking towards the library.Â
Ms. Lim, the librarian, had hired you as her assistant, or at least one of them. She kept mentioning the past couple of days that a new person was coming to help you out, and they were just sorting out their schedules.Â
âWhat the hell are you doing here?â Your brows creased at the sight of Jongho, two hours early from your scheduled meeting at the library.Â
âI can come to the library, you know? This is a public study space.â He arched a brow, barely sparing you a glance as he walked past you.Â
âYou? Studying? Please. You'd need neurons for that,â you scoffed, matching his step as he neared the empty front desk.Â
âWhere's Ms. Lim?â he ignored your words as he leaned on the wood, his thick-rimmed glasses sliding slightly down his nose.Â
âNot here, clearly.â You rolled your eyes at him, walking around the desk and setting your hands on the wood. âWhat do you want, Jongho?â You cocked your head to the side, clearly unamused by his presence in your otherwise peaceful and quiet library.Â
âShe asked me to come here, Iâm helping her out as one of her assistants,â he pointed his words with a small smile, cocking his own head to the side.Â
âYou're kidding.âÂ
âNope.âÂ
âWell, you're fired, thank you very much.â You shrugged, turning to the computer, clicking the mouse around, and tapping at some letters on the keyboard, pretending to do something.Â
âUh-huh. Where is she?â he pressed, leaning forward over the desk just a little bit more, trying to peer into the screen of the monitor.Â
âOut.â
âLet me guess, youâre one of her assistants too, huh?â He ran a hand through his hair before using his pointer and middle finger to slide his glasses up his nose, a small smile curling his lips, apparently, finding your despair amusing.Â
âIâm her only assistant, youâre fired. Remember?â Your smile was nothing but fake, but it only made Jonghoâs heart skip a beat. It had been so long since he saw your crescent-shaped eyes looking at him while your plump lips curled in that sweet smile you had.Â
Jongho just nodded, âSure.â He walked around the desk, throwing his backpack beside yours on the floor, and rested his hands on the thick wood.Â
You were for sure going to strangle him soon.Â
ââËïœĄâ
âOkay, you have to tell me.â Wooyoung looked at you through the mirror, fixing his own clothes.Â
The cool air was seeping through the windows as you both got ready for a frat party you usually didn't go to, but Wooyoung had convinced you that you needed to let off some steam.Â
âTell you what, Woo?â you looked at him through your own mirror, arching a brow as you rummaged through your makeup.Â
âWhy you hate him, Sushi.â he turned to look at you, the damn nickname he had given you in high school after a much-too-passionate discussion about that very same type of dish, making you crinkle your nose.Â
âDon't call me that.â Your eyes rolled as you stretched your back, turning to look back at him, too. âAnd I already told you, I just do.âÂ
âWhat happened on that date?â He pressed, hands falling to his sides as he walked to sit down on your bed, the mattress dipping below him.Â
âWaitâŠDid you go on a date with Jongho?â San asked, stopping his mindless scrolling on his phone as he inched closer to his boyfriend, resting his blonde head on Wooyoungâs lap.Â
âIt wasn't a date. See what you're doing?â You hissed at Wooyoung. âYou need to drop it already.â Your eyes rolled for the umpteenth time as you turned back to the mirror and finished your makeup.Â
âI just want to know what made you hate him so much all of a sudden, Sushi. That's not something that happens just because.â He pressed once more, being met with your glare through the mirror. His hands lifted in surrender as he pulled out his phone, deciding not to push your buttons more. âYou're going to the pre-game?âÂ
Your brow arched through the mirror. âWhat pre-game?â Wooyoung whined as he dropped his head back.Â
âThe pre-game I told you Sannie, and I are hostinggg.â He dragged out the syllable as he looked at you. âWe're getting drinks and playing the bottle game.âÂ
âThe bottle game? What are we, in seventh grade?â You scoffed as you sprayed setting spray on your face. Your eyes opened again to see Wooyoung deadpanning.Â
âI don't even know why I try with you anymore,â he sighed, deflating and checking his phone. âCâmon, babe. Hwa hyung, Sullyoon, and her girl are on their way to the apartment.â He nudged San's head with his hip, prompting him to get up. âSee you later, Sushi. Don't be a wimp and go to the fucking party, or I will come back here and drag you out.â He blew a kiss into the air as he and San walked out of your room.Â
A sigh left your lips as the front door slammed shut. You turned around, eyes falling flat on the bear plushie you kept in your bedroom for a reason you didn't know yet. You walked towards it and wrapped your hands around it.Â
âYou should know that your father is an idiot.â You talked to the lifeless animal, a crease in between your brows.Â
Because Wooyoung was right, you didn't hate Jongho without reason, and you did go on a date with him.Â
But those were simpler times.Â
ââËïœĄâ
âSushi, relax.â Wooyoung mindlessly scrolled on his phone, giggling as you took clothes out of your closet like in a classic coming-of-age movie.Â
âHow can I relax? He's coming in an hour, and I still don't know what to wear, Woo,â you whined as you continued rummaging through the scattered clothes.Â
âHeâs Jongho, he'll still think you're cute with whatever you wear.â his half-assed reassurance only made you roll your eyes while pulling out a shirt and some pants. You held them up, a silent question aimed at him, and his face lit up, nodding immediately at your suggestion.Â
Once the outfit situation was sorted, you continued getting ready, quickly pushing Wooyoung out the door before Jongho was supposed to arrive.Â
âCall me after! And use protection!â He cackled as you pushed him out the door, blood rushing to your cheeks as you slammed the door on his nose, running back to your room and checking your phone to see if Jongho had texted.Â
jjong⥠: i just saw wooyo lol
jjong⥠: u can come out whenever ur ready sunshine
jjong⥠: ill wait for uÂ
Your heartbeat drummed in your ears, and heat pooled in your cheeks as you checked yourself out in the mirror one last time before coming out of your house. Smiling as you saw him standing outside your apartment, his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he ran a hand through his grown-out red locks.Â
âHey.â You cringed immediately at your choice of words, nose crinkling as you locked your door shut behind you, a soft blush in your cheeks as you walked over to where he was leaning on the hood of his car.Â
The beautiful black of the Bronco catching the light and making it bounce on him, making him look absolutely dreamy.Â
âHi, sunshine.â Your cheeks burned at the nickname. âYou look beautiful today, too.â He smiled, walking over and standing beside the passenger door, opening the door for you whenever you were ready.Â
âThanks, Jjong.â A shy smile ran your features as you got in his car, hands instantly coming to smooth the fabric of your jeans once the door closed, exhaling a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding while Jongho walked around the car, a hand running again through his half-red locks almost instinctively.Â
âSo, the plan for today is coffee and then visit the fair downtown, âs that still okay with you, sunshine?â He asked while turning on the ignition of the car, his voice sweet as honey, making you shiver with nerves and excitement.Â
âYes, that sounds really nice, actually.â And with that, the car came to life with a soft but steady hum of the engine, all of the lights turning on for a couple of seconds before the unnecessary ones turned off.Â
Jongho began driving, making quick and simple conversation with you, telling you about how Yeosang kept turning off all of the lights in their apartment before turning them back on again, and then turning them all off again. And you both fell into such a nice rhythm of conversation that you didn't notice his hand slightly snaking down until he covered your own that was limp and relaxed beside your thigh, palm to knuckles as he rubbed absent traces along your fingers.Â
You both ultimately decided to skip the coffee shop and go straight to the fair, as the sunset was nearing. Once you arrived and the soft hum of the engine stopped, you took off your seatbelt and turned half of your body to open the door, stopping yourself when you heard the door slam beside you and saw Jongho almost jogging as he rounded the car, quickly opening the door for you.Â
âThanks,â the heat in your cheeks was obvious, but if anyone said anything, you'd attribute it to the cool November air.Â
âYou're welcome, sunshine.â He bowed his head jokingly, the nickname that had started as a tease almost becoming more popular than your name in Jongho's vocabulary.Â
The rest of the afternoon was a fever dream. Jongho was nothing but a gentleman, remembering little details you had previously shared with him, like the kind of drinks you liked, the kind of games you enjoyed, and whether you liked plushies or not. Which is how you ended up with a small bear in between your arms, smiling as you kissed Jongho's cheek shyly, thanking him for winning it for you.Â
âHowâre you gonna name him?â He offered his arm for you to loop yours around, a soft smile on his lips when you did just that.Â
âHmmâŠâ Your index finger flew to your chin while you pondered. Pink tinging your cheeks as you thought of the perfect name. âJjongbear.â A full-on belly laugh escaped you when you saw his bewildered expression.Â
âI'll allow it only because you're adorable.âÂ
For you, this was just the beginning of a beautiful relationship you and Jongho would have.Â
You didn't expect it to end so fast.Â
ââËïœĄâ
The loud music boomed in your chest, slightly wincing at the sea of people dancing in the frat house. You made your way to the kitchen immediately, needing alcohol to run through your system as soon as humanly possible. You and Jongho had been working together for almost two weeks now, not only on your shared project but also as assistants in the library, and you werenât sure whether you were going to finish the semester or be jailed for manslaughter.Â
âUgh, you shouldâve been there, Sushi. Mingi came out like he had been pulled out of that closet by the dick.â Wooyoung cackled as he arrived, wrapping his arms around your hips and resting his chin on your shoulder. âI give them an hour, tops, and then theyâll fuck.â He unwrapped himself from you and rounded the table, grabbing an empty Red Solo cup so that he could pour his poison of choice for the night.Â
You giggled at his choice of words, chugging the drink you were nursing in your hands. âThey probably will, and youâll probably leave me for Sannie too.â Your top lip pursed in mock disgust. Wooyoung almost choked on his drink, fighting off a loud cackle.Â
âProbably,â he smiled smugly, raising his cup into the air before taking a sip, the burn of the alcohol sending shivers down his spine before groaning out like an old man, making you giggle.Â
âWhat are you staring at, bro?â Sanâs voice made Jongho jump out of his skin, startled and embarrassed to be caught red-handed.Â
âI-Iâm not staring.â He answered with pink cheeks as he swirled the cold beer bottle in between his fingers, tracing absent-minded lines in the condensation of the dark glass.
âYou âa hundred percentâ are,â San stated matter-of-factly, looking in the direction Jongho had been, a small smile curling his lips once he noticed he was staring at you and Wooyoung. âAh, I see. The one-sided love.âÂ
Jonghoâs cheeks burned at his words. âShut up.â He took a swig of his beer, hoping that the cool malt drink would calm the heat in his cheeks. âShe looks good tonight.â He shrugged. Suddenly, the rest of the ingredients and the calories displayed in the half-wet tag on the glass were the most interesting thing in the world. âAnd it didn't used to be one-sided.â
âYou look amazing tonight.â Wooyoung's words made you blush, hiding your face behind your cup while you took a sip of the liquid. âThat skirt makes your ass look great.âÂ
âWooyoung! Don't you have a boyfriend?â You laughed, looking over your shoulder, feeling eyes on you.Â
âI do, but Iâm also your best friend, so I'm entitled to tell you those kinds of things.â He shrugged, extending his hand for you to take. âCome, let's dance. Maybe you'll end up abandoning Sannie and me tonight for someone else.â He poked your cheek, pulling you out of the kitchen once your hand wrapped around his.Â
You continued looking around, feeling a pair of eyes looking at you from afar. Once your gaze fell on a particular set of chocolate-brown eyes, your top lip pursed in dislike. âUgh, why is he staring?â You nudged Wooyoung, voice loud over the music filling the room.Â
âBecause you look hot,â he looked in the direction you were discreetly pointing towards, a smirk curling his lips once he saw his boyfriend approaching your so-called nemesis for life. âAnd so does he.âÂ
Your brows furrowed, trying to catch a clearer glimpse of how Jongho looked, something that didn't go unnoticed for Wooyoung. âH-he looks like an idiot.â Your gaze cowered almost immediately, walking through the crowd and settling on a small space that housed both of you.Â
âA hot idiot.â
âFuck off.âÂ
And with that, the night went on. Jongho felt his heart thrumming in his chest, heat burning beneath his skin, thoughts racing, cursing whatever it was he'd done to upset you so much, wishing he had never done it so you could be his.Â
He wished it were him dancing with you, his hands wrapped around your waist as you enjoyed yourself, admiring how the lights bounced off your skin and the way your clothes hugged every curve of your body. He was jealous of the people who could be by your side right now, dancing with you, making you laugh, giving you drinks.Â
He hated them.Â
He hated them all. But what he hated the most was that you werenât his
It got to a point where he couldnât help himself. He didnât care if you hated him more after.Â
He noticed them before you did, two sets of eyes ogling from the other side of the party, âhe believed their names were Jay and Jake, as his faces seemed familiar from the frat he tried to join last semester, before it all went to shit with youâ He saw them, their eyes raking over your body as you continued dancing without a care in the world, a soft sheen of sweat covering your skin making it shine under the lights.Â
Jonghoâs jaw was tense, he knew there was technically nothing he could do to stop them. He wasnât your boyfriend, shit, you didnât even like the man. But still, he couldnât stop himself when he saw the way you turned to talk to them; eyes glassy, lips parted slightly, and a soft smile that made him clench his fists until his knuckles turned white.Â
âAre you Jonghoâs coworker?â The two tall men beside you asked, crowding your vision and your space.Â
âTsk. Iâm nothing of Jonghoâs.â You were quick to answer, your brain feeling fuzzy at the edges from the alcohol. âWe do work together, but Iâd rather get shot in the hand than be anything more.â Your words earned you some roguish smiles from the two guys, one of them leaning âa little too closeâ for you to hear him over the speaker.Â
âSo that means youâre alone tonight?â His breath fell on your neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your gaze shifted, looking for Wooyoung, who was about three feet away, lifting his glass as if he were saluting.Â
âMaybââÂ
âHey, man. Didnât think Iâd see you both here.â Jonghoâs voice made your stomach churn, the smirk on your lips falling into a displeased frown as you turned around to face him. He dapped up the two guys, âwhose names you had yet to learnâ completely ignoring your scowl and the guysâ awkwardness as they slowly walked away a couple of seconds later.Â
âSo not only do you never leave me fucking alone on campus, but you also have to bother me at a party?â You chugged whatever was left in your cup, not even feeling the burn in your throat anymore.Â
âYou didnât see the way they were looking at you, sunshine. Iâm just trying to look out for you.â His voice was low, only for you to hear. âCome, Iâll take you home. Youâre hammered already.â He extended his hand, prompting you to take it.Â
âYouâre wrong.â He wasnât. âAnd Iâm not going anywhere with you.â You tsked before you hiccupped and slurred your words, turning your back on him. âAnd stop fucking calling me that, Iâm not your sunshine anymore.â You turned back quickly, your head spinning given how fast you moved, and then you left, walking away to find Wooyoung.Â
He didnât chase after you because you were right.Â
But that didnât mean he was going to stop looking after you, making sure you were safe from a distance. He saw you find Wooyoung, wrapping your arms lazily around his shoulders, surprising him. He saw the smile on Wooyoung's lips that mirrored yours, and his jaw clenched. He felt jealous, not of Wooyoung, of course, but of the fact that he could make you smile like that, without a care in the world, like he used to do.Â
He saw you, dancing, drinking even more, and it was a miracle the beer bottle he continued nursing in his hands hadnât burst, given how hard he was gripping it. âJust go over there, man.â He jolted at Hongjoongâs words, looking at him with furrowed brows. âHow long are you gonna wait âtill you do something? Or are you just gonna let her hate you without apparent reason for the rest of your life?â Jongho was stunned into silence. Hongjoong was always a very straightforward person when tipsy. âIâm tired of seeing you mop around for her because youâre not man enough yet to talk to her.âÂ
âIt's not really that easy when she doesn't even want to hear about me.â Jongho hisses out, jaw set as he kept looking in your direction, eyes narrowing when he saw Wooyoung stepping away and leaving you to dance with a random dude.Â
âWell, if you never man up, you'll lose her, bro.â Hongjoong tapped his shoulder with slightly more strength than needed, making him take a couple of steps forward to keep his balance. Jongho breathed out a long sigh, taking in the words of his hyung.Â
Meanwhile, you were having the time of your life.
If you werenât hammered before, you definitely were now. Alcohol ran through your veins, your brain felt fuzzy, and your body felt lighter than it should ever be. You felt a pair of hands on your hips, a crotch brushing on your ass as your body moved to the rhythm of the music. You felt multiple eyes on you, but you didn't care, not when you felt so at ease and relaxed for the first time in a while.Â
You heard some words being whispered against your sweat-slick skin, although you werenât really sure of the owner of the voice or even what they were saying; your focus was on the music and on the lightness of your body. You felt a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away and all the way out of the party, the cool midnight breeze hitting you immediately.Â
âHey!â A sharp voice echoed behind you, making the person who was pulling you out stop for just a moment. âThe fuck are you going?â Wait, you knew that voice. Even in your fuzzy state, you would recognize that voice anywhere.
Jongho.
âIâm just taking her home, man.â A strange voice beside you replied, tone uneasy as if they had been caught red-handed. You turned to face the stranger with furrowed brows, trying to make out who this person was.Â
âTell me her name.â Jonghoâs tone was sharp like a blade, his fists clenched at his sides as he watched the man beside you scoff, almost bothered by his intervention.Â
âWhy do you care? You her boyfriend or something?â The stranger tightened his hold on your wrist slightly, making you wince in pain. Even in your drunken and fuzzy state, you realized that you did not know the man holding your wrist right now, forcing your hand out of his grasp quickly, making him stumble a little, definitely not expecting you to do that.Â
âHe is.â Your words slurred, and Jonghoâs breath got knocked out of him. The crease of his brows eased, and his lips parted in surprise, all words dying in his throat at your drunken words. âGet the fuck away fâme, I donâ even know you.â You stumbled your steps towards Jongho, who was quick to escape his trance and meet you in the middle, catching you right before you tripped on your own feet.Â
âWhatever, bro.â The stranger scoffed and walked away, leaving you there, with Jonghoâs hands around you, avoiding your imminent fall.Â
âLet me take you home, sunshine.â Jonghoâs voice was almost pleading. He hoped you would remember calling him your boyfriend in the morning. His heart was doing somersaults in his chest, even though he was well aware it was a lie, and you would probably never see him that way again.Â
âLeave me alone, Jongho.â You pushed him away, scowl on your face. âI jusâ said that shit so heâd leave me alone.â You admitted, your slurred words hitting him square in the chest. â âm not gonna be stupid enough to fall for you again. And Iâm not your fuckinâ sunshine!â You hissed out, swatting at his chest. âYou will never be my boyfriend, Choi Jongho, I hate you!â You spat out in anger, heavy tears rimming in your eyes as you continued swatting his chest.Â
âIâm not leaving you alone in the street, let me at least find Woo-âÂ
âI donât need your fuckinâ help, bro! I need you to fuckinâ leave me alone!â You stumbled backwards, making space in between your bodies. Perhaps your words were being too harsh, but then again, you were drunk, and you didnât exactly have that voice in your head that made you think before you speak.Â
Because if you werenât drunk, you wouldâve seen the effect your words were having. Random people eavesdropping and whispering about what you were saying, Jonghoâs ears red from humiliation, and a small flicker of hurt in his eyes. And the worst part? Jongho thought you probably wouldnât even remember.Â
âHey, there youââ Wooyoung came out of the frat house, hair messy â as if someoneâs hands had been tangled in his red locksâ and out of breath, wincing instantly when he saw the scene. He quickly shortened the distance between you and rested his hand on Jonghoâs shoulder. âDonât worry, man. Weâll take her home.â His voice was low enough for the dark-haired man to hear, and as if he was summoned, San appeared behind his boyfriend, giving Jongho a reassuring nod.
Jongho sighed out, long and deep, before nodding and turning his back on the friend trio, walking towards his car, leaving you safe with Wooyoung and San, which was all he cared about, really, that you were safe.
Shortly after he left, and Wooyoung and San managed to get you inside an Uber, you arrived at your apartment with hot, thick tears running down your face. Babbles and sobs were the only things coming out of your mouth as your friends tried to change your clothes and get you to bed.Â
âCâmon, Sushi.â Wooyoung cooed while rubbing your back with one hand, the other one holding your hair up as you emptied the contents of your stomach in the toilet. âWe got you, itâs okay.â He reassured, offering you a glass of water after you were done.Â
You were going to wake up like shit.Â
And not only because of the headache you were for sure going to have, but because you will remember.Â
You had never been the âblack-outâ type of drunk, no matter how much you drank. Which meant you would remember, from the moment you affirmed that Jongho was your boyfriend to a complete stranger, to the moment you berated him in the middle of the street, up until this moment, of you, lying in bed awake, far more sober than when you arrived, thinking about how he looked at you.
How his eyes shone when he heard you slur out those two words and stumble towards him, and how he looked at you like you had fucking kicked his puppy once you two were alone.Â
You had your issues with the man, but why did seeing his face like that hurt your chest so much?Â
No, no, heâs Choi Jongho, the man you swore you would hate until the last of your days.Â
ââËïœĄâÂ
The library had finally quieted down after a particularly awkward shift. Ms. Lim was out sick and had tasked you and Jongho with managing the library for the couple of days sheâd be out.Â
As if dealing with Jongho on a daily basis wasnât enough, Ms. Lim had decided to fall sick, leaving you with the man you had publicly berated outside of a frat party while drunk, had a complicated history with, and couldnât seem to fucking escape.
âReady to close up?â Jonghoâs tone was slightly nervous; this was the first time in the whole day he was trying to make conversation, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.Â
You barely spared a glance at him as you pointed to the âreturned booksâ cart behind you, âoverflowing as alwaysâ while you continued typing away at the computer. âWe also have to work on Mr. Yoon's project.â Your tone was barely there, words sharp as you barely paid any attention to him.Â
âYeah, right.â His gaze avoided you like the plague. There was a strange feeling stirring in your chest. Were you sick?
âGet rid of the stragglers so that we can work on that and I can get out of here.â You ordered, and he nodded, kindly approaching the couple of students that remained in the library with their heads buried in books.Â
You paid no mind to him, only side-eyeing him every couple of seconds. Just to make sure he was actually getting rid of the people so that you could get out of here, of course. But a particular interaction made you turn your head to see better.Â
Most students were gathering their things and leaving the library just as Jongho had politely asked them to, but he had approached a table occupied solely by a girl with a soft crease between her brows that eased when Jongho tapped his finger on her shoulder lightly. You couldn't hear what they were saying to each other; you could only see Jonghoâs soft smile and her cheeks blush, and you scowled. A small giggle of hers reached your ears. What was so fucking funny?Â
âIf you're done flirting, the library's closed.â Before you could stop yourself, your feet had led the way all the way to a couple of steps beside Jongho, making him turn to you wide-eyed as the girl's cheeks burned crimson and she began gathering her things quickly. âYou and I still have shit to do, câmon.â You pointed your head to the side, motioning towards the front desk.Â
âHave a g-good night, you two.â The girl shyly nodded before slinging her bag on her shoulder and leaving the library with quick steps.Â
Once the heavy oak slammed shut, you turned around, walking towards the light switches, turning the overhead lighting off and leaving just the dim lighting of the hallways between the bookshelves. Jongho was quick to follow you, with his brows furrowed in confusion.Â
âWhat the fuck was that?â He followed you all the way back to the front desk, watching you pick up your laptop and some papers, your shoulder brushing his as you walked past him towards the law bookshelf, where you both normally sat on the floor to make progress on your project.Â
âWhat the fuck was what?â The strange feeling kept stirring in your chest; perhaps you were coming down with something. You carefully left your things on the floor, not meeting his gaze as you browsed for one of the books you wanted to use for your project.Â
âDon't play stupid. I wasn't flirting with her, I don't even know her.â His hands flailed around, trying to catch your attention as you kept looking around the bookshelf for the book. âI don't even know why I am explaining myself to you, âs not like you're my girlfriend or something.âÂ
âPlease. As if I would ever be stupid enough to be, don't make me laugh.â You finally turned to face him, closer than you'd expected to be. You took in his expression, a flicker of hurt passed through his eyes, but it was quick to turn into frustration.Â
âWhat the hell is your problem?â He took a step closer, voice low as his eyes searched for yours.
âYou are! You have been my problem, all semester long, and you will be until itâs over!â You took a step closer to him, your eyes shooting daggers into his.Â
âYou react as if youâre not a pain in my ass yourself!â He snapped, taking one step closer. Your breaths mixing at the closeness. You scowled, your eyes bouncing back and forth between his eyes, taking in his beautiful chocolate orbs, the crease in between his eyebrows.Â
You knew it now, you were jealous.Â
Seething with jealousy, that is. By the way he just made a simple conversation with that girl, making her laugh and blush, just like you used to at his words. Was it just that easy for him?Â
âHow am I a pain in your ass? You're the one who won't leave me the fuck alone!â Your voices were much louder than they needed to be, thank god you cleared the library before. You couldn't live with the embarrassment and the afterthought of having yelled at him in public twice.Â
âYou're the one who's acting like a child all of a sudden!â His nose scrunched, nowâblack hair falling over his forehead after his hands ran through his locks in frustration. Your eyes were locked on his, his chocolate orbs dark with fury and something else you couldn't describe yet. Jongho was exasperating, but up close, he was breathtaking.Â
His tan skin glowed in the golden lighting of the library, his plump, pink lips slightly parted. Your eyes traveled back up to his, realizing his own gaze had traveled down to your lips. The knot between his eyebrows had softened, his eyes staring into yours with an expression you didnât have time to name, because when you noticed, his lips were on yours.Â
His lips tasted of honey, and a pent-up frustration you felt deep in your bones. Your hands had fisted his shirt near the midriff, scrunching up the fabric, while his own hands had tangled in your hair, softly tugging at the unruly strands that wrapped around his fingers.Â
Your heartbeat was drumming in your ears. You hated Choi Jongho, right?Â
Why didnât you stop? Why didnât you want him to?
The familiarity of his lips against yours didnât ease the tension in your shoulders, muscles on fire at how strained they were. Your lips parted, and he took it as an invitation to slip his tongue in your mouth, a soft moan reaching his ears, making him shudder.Â
Seconds after, the kiss broke, a small trail of saliva connecting your lips while you both looked at each other with parted lips, wide eyes, and shallow breathing. âWhatthefââ is all you could get out before his hands slipped from your hair and cradled your jaw, interrupting every thought you had.Â
âTell me you donât want this.â His eyes searched for yours, âTell me you donât want me, tell me you hate me, and Iâll leave and leave you alone once and for all.â His tone was almost pleading. You could feel the slight tremble in his hands, the almost imperceptible hesitation in his voice.Â
I do, I hate you. Were the words you wanted to say. Instead, they got caught in your throat as your lips crashed into his once more, hands balling up the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him flush to you. âI want you.â You whispered on his lips, and while the rational part of you was screaming at you in your head, the part of you that thought with your heart was dancing in glee.Â
A soft sigh of pleasure left his lips, doubt slipping away from his mind as you kissed. His hands began roaming your body, softly squeezing the flesh at your waist, as if trying to ground himself, an effort that proved futile as a small moan rolled off your lips right into his, making his pants feel tighter than they already were.Â
His lips began trailing down your jaw, stopping just above your pulse point, and leaving small open-mouthed kisses in the skin as your hands wrapped around his midnight locks, softly tugging at the roots.Â
Jonghoâs hands sat low on your hips, his hold dizzying as he continued leaving small kisses all across your neck and collarbones as much as your shirt allowed him to. âJ-JjongâŠâ your soft mewl reached his ears and travelled all the way down to his cock, twitching in his pants at the sound of the nickname.Â
A soft hum rumbled deep in his chest as he leaned back, quickly removing your shirt in a swift motion, his eyes travelled through your torso, admiring the way your skin basked in the soft amber hue of the library lighting. You cowered, hands slowly coming up to cover yourself, âNo, no. Donât do that, câmon.â Jongho wrapped his hands on your wrists, letting your shirt fall to the carpeted floor beneath you. âYouâre beautiful, sunshine.â His velvety voice sent a shiver down your spine, letting your hands fall to your sides as you felt the heat creep up your neck.Â
Your hands reached to tug on his own shirt, the black fabric wrinkled after your frantic hold on it. He helped you take it off, his own cheeks burning once the fabric fell somewhere on the floor. Your eyes widened, taking in his figure, his golden-bronzed skin glowing in the libraryâs low lighting. He wasnât precisely toned, but his body was admirable, making your gaze linger for much longer than it should have.Â
The kisses became more frantic, desperate. While a shy hand palmed him over the fabric of his pants, a notâsoâshy one sneaked behind your back to unclasp your bra, his cool hands covering the skin of your breasts once the fabric fell to the rug, sending shivers down your spine as he kneaded the sensitive skin and rolled your nipples with his index and middle finger, small moans rolling off your lips. You couldnât believe you were doing this to Choi fucking Jongho, the man you swore to never see with eyes that held something other than hatred, and in the fucking library. You just hoped that there werenât cameras.Â
Most of the clothes were quickly discarded, and now you had your legs wrapped around Jonghoâs waist, his hands splayed on your thighs as his lips swallowed yours in a dizzying kiss, your hips rolling every so often, your core, only now covered by your panties, meeting the tip of his cock, still covered by the fabric of his boxers.Â
Soft mewls and whines rolled off your lips as the friction became overbearing, feeling the all-too-familiar coil in your belly tighten, âJjong, p-please.â You almost didnât recognize your voice as you begged, Jongho looking at you with a fucking smirk curling his lips as he took a step forward, your back meeting the cold wood of the bookshelf. One of his hands snaked down between your bodies to be able to pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, the tip hitting your clothed core in a way that had you feeling like a livewire. You looked down andâ
What. The. Fuck.Â
What an absolute fucking of a monster cock did he have. Not only was it above average, but it was thick. So fucking thick that you were almost certain he was going to split you in two, but your mind was far too gone to care.Â
Jonghoâs lips curled in a full-on grin, âYouâre staring.âÂ
âYouâre fucking huge.âÂ
âIâll take care of you, donât worry.â He let out a small giggle while pulling your panties to the side, rubbing his fat cock across your folds, making you whine. Asshole.Â
He gathered enough slick onto his shaft to push inside slowly, a cry leaving your lips as you felt the stretch, his cock quite literally splitting you into two. âYouâre a good girl. You can take it, right, sunshine?â The nickname you had come to despise in your daily life made you clench around him, forcing him inside just a little bit more, pulling a groan out of him.Â
âSh-ut the fuck up.â A broken cry came out as he continued pushing inside, your head falling back and leaning into the old wooden shelf. He popped a brow at you, rolling his hips a little bit more, making you moan loudly.Â
âSuch a good girl and such a filthy mouth.â He tutted as his hips continued rolling, sliding in and out slowly. He wasnât even all the way in yet, and you already felt like you were about to explode.Â
He bottomed out, and a loud groan rumbled deep in his chest, a cry reverberating through your vocal cords as you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix in a way that had you seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.Â
âJ-JonghoâŠfuck. Move,â you moaned, eyebrows knitted in pleasure as you tried rolling your hips into him. Head too far gone to think about what you were doing.Â
âLook at you, taking my cock so good after telling everyone you hate me.â He fucking cooed, and you clenched around his cock. He began pulling out as much as he could while still holding you up in his arms, and he slammed back into you.g
Your moans quickly filled the quiet, empty library. The obscene sounds reverberated in the wide space as Jongho continued slamming into you, wet, slopping sounds reaching your ears as you held on to the bookshelf for dear fucking life.Â
Jongho felt the muscles in his thighs on fire, and the position was becoming unbearable. Much to your dismay, he pulled out, and you whined, your breathing shallow as he steadied you on the floor, your knees buckled, your stance stumbling as your feet touched the rug beneath them. âWhatââÂ
âLie down.â He instructed, and you popped a brow, obeying reluctantly. So picky, is what you thought, but all complaints died on your throat as he slammed into you the moment your back was touching the rug. His cock kissed the tip of your cervix, the delicious stretch making you dizzy in no time. Your belly tensed, feeling him deep in your womb as his balls slapped against the skin of your ass.Â
âJong-ho, nghâ fuckâŠâ You babbled, tears rimming your eyes as his hips snapped inside you mercilessly. He leaned down, the angle pushing his cock impossibly deeper as he took one of your tits in his mouth, suckling your hardened bud, nipping occasionally at the soft skin that surrounded it. You heard his low groans of pleasure, moaning as he rammed into you.Â
One of his hands snaked down between your bodies, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts, âCum for me, sunshine. Cum âround my cock.â He popped off the sensitive skin of your chest with a wet pop!. His tone was laced with lust, your walls constricted around him, making him drop his head on your shoulder. Your fingers wrapped around his hair, black, unruly strands pointing in all directions, while some of them stuck to his forehead, a soft sheen of sweat covering you both, loud moans, groans, and babbles filled the space, both of you clearly enjoying the moment.Â
Your limbs were wrapped around Jonghoâs as your lips crashed onto his, and your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, legs tightening around his thighs, fingers pulling at his roots, and the cry of his name dying on his lips. His rhythm grew sloppy, frantic as he looked for his own release, the hand that was circling your clit coming up to rest beside your head, holding him up. Your lips swallowed his punched-out groan as he filled you up, thick, warm ropes of cum painting your insides without a care in the world.Â
Post-nut clarity hit you like a bitch. After Jongho slipped out of you and rolled to your side, breathing shallow as he stared at the ceiling, your heartbeat started thrumming in your ears. The haziness dissipated quickly as if a cold water bucket had been poured over you the second your orgasm subsided.Â
You had sex with Choi Jongho.Â
You sat up quickly, blood rushing to your head and making you feel slightly dizzy. Your hands splayed on the floor behind you, holding you upright as you caught your breath. You looked over your shoulder, seeing Jongho with his eyes closed as he brought a hand to his chest, trying to calm his own breathing. Your eyes danced over his body, admiring the way his honey-skin, lightly covered in sweat, shone in the dim lighting. You willed yourself to look away before your gaze dared to trail any lower.Â
You had sex with Choi Jongho. On the school's library.Â
You began gathering your clothes, quickly getting your panties that had been hastily discarded while you changed positions and pulling them up your legs, grimacing at the sticky feeling between them, quickly pulling your shirt over your head, and standing up, catching Jongho's attention, who opened his eyes to see you half-clothed as you rushed through the hallway looking for the rest of your things.Â
âWhat is it?â He asked while popping a brow, confused.Â
âWhat? You expected me to lie down and cuddle with you after fucking in the library?â You cocked a brow of your own, finding your pants and sliding them up your legs, prompting Jongho to begin dressing himself as well.Â
âYou can't be serious.â He scoffed as he watched you begin to gather the papers that had fallen forgotten on the floor as he slid up and buttoned his pants. âAre you just going to fucking leave? That's what you do best, right?â He bit out, picking his shirt up from the rug and putting it on.Â
Your head turned so fast you swore you gave yourself whiplash. âWhat's that supposed to mean?â Your brows knotted, offended as you continued half-assedly gathering the papers, only this time your focus was fully on Jongho.Â
âYou just leave and act as if nothing happened, then go around telling everybody you hate me.â He huffed as he spoke matter-of-factly, crouching down to pick up his thick-rimmed glasses that had been thrown onto the floor at one point.
The sound that came out of you sounded more like a laugh than a scoff, and your head shook from side to side as if what he had said was the most ridiculous thing ever. âYou act as if it wasn't your fucking fault that whatever we had broke.âÂ
âWhat does that even mean!â He knelt beside you, tone rising as his frustration bottled up again, close to exploding.Â
âYou think I don't know what you said to Soobin and Yeojun at that fuckass party over at TXT last semester?â Your voice rose too, bouncing off the walls of the empty hallways filled with books.Â
âWhaââÂ
âI heard you. Telling them you were only trying to get me to your bed and that I was already halfway there.â You bit out, turning your attention back to the papers on the floor, biting the inside of your cheek to avoid the tears pooling in your eyes.Â
Now it was Jonghoâs turn to feel as if a cold bucket of water had been dumped on him. Heat rose all the way to his ears, crimson covering his cheeks as his head cowered, teeth clamping over the inside of his cheek at your words. You weren't exactly right, but you also weren't wrong.Â
âIt didn't happen like that.â If the silence of both of you hadn't filled the space, his words would have probably gone unheard, given how low his voice came out. âBut I was an idiot, I was so invested in getting into that fucking frat that I let those two idiots talk shit about you, and I didn't do anything to stop it because I thought no one was hearing.â Your eyes met his, and his gaze softened at the sight of your teary eyes and quivering lower lip.Â
âI'm so so fucking sorry.â He said your name as his head fell forward, the sound of your own name out of his mouth surprising you. âEven if no one was around to hear, I should have said something.â He wasn't excusing himself; you could actually see how fucking sorry he was, and your heart ached. âIf I could take it back and never have you hate me, I would do it in a heartbeat.â His words, followed by your name, made a stray tear run down your cheek, a small sniffle making him lift his head, his own eyes teary as he met your gaze.Â
âI don't know if I can forgive you.â Your voice came out shaky, broken as another tear fell down your cheek. âYet.â Jongho's brows furrowed in confusion. âI never really stopped liking you. I was just too hurt to want to do anything with you.â You explained with a soft blush in your cheeks.Â
âI'll fix it.â He declared, pushing his glasses up into his hair and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. âWe just fucked on the library's floor for fuckâs sake, I'm not just letting you go.âÂ
Maybe. Maybe you didn't hate Choi Jongho as much as you thought.Â
As if you would have ever thought things would ever go like this.
summary: Jongho spots you in the crowd once and canât let go of you. Unfortunately, so does Yeosang. Good thing they donât mind sharing. (Or Seonghwa and Hongjoong are terrible wingmen, but they get the job done.) genre/pairing: lead singer!jongho x reader x bassist!yeosang, smut, band au, ft. drummer!mingi, guitarist!hongjoong & seonghwaâs there for vibes wc: 4.8k (i have issues when it comes to jongsang) warnings: SMUT MDNI, threesome, cursing, mentions of drinking, mean!dom!jongho, soft!dom!yeosang, sub!fem!reader, fingering champions jongsang, box munching king jongho, name-calling (jongho loves sluts), edging, creampies, spit kink, degradation, finger sucking, sloppy seconds, sort of cum-eating, aftercare, idk why it gets so soft at the end bom note: i had this thought and i said âi must bring chino moreno jongho to lifeâ jongsang stans pls fw my vision. also hereâs a playlist i made! i think the music theyâd make in this au is very much deftones style. lmk if i missed anything for the warnings!
Itâs hot.
You donât mind supporting Hongjoong and Mingi in their musical escapades, but itâs crowded. When theyâd told you they were in a band, you half-expected them to be playing in a low-down unknown bar with 2 patrons. You hadnât expected to be crowded by fans, all (not) patiently waiting for the set to start. Seonghwa stood beside you, pouting every time he was shoved into. He looked out of place, elegant and prince-like in a sea of punk-rockers wearing crust pants and in yesterdayâs makeup.
He seems at ease, though. Having been to multiple of Hongjoongâs shows at this point, heâs become accustomed to the intense pits, the broken noses, and the lingering stench of weed. The multitudes of drinks heâs been having seem to help too. You stand by and watch as his cheeks get redder and redder throughout the night.
He points his drink at you while he speaks, âYou know, Hongjoong wants to set you up with the singer, Jongho. Said he seems like your type,â
You scoff at that, âNo way! The last guy he tried to set me up with ended up being a total weirdo,â
Seonghwa rolls his eyes, âA foot fetish isnât the weirdest thing out there. Besides, Yunhoâs actually pretty cool,â he raises his brows at you, but continues when he sees youâre not changing your mind, âFine. Go with my option. I wanted to set you up with their bassist. You like nice guys, right?â
The lights dim, giving you an easy out to Seonghwaâs terrible match-making ideas, âThe fact you think Iâm ever trusting you or Hongjoong again is laughable.â
Seonghwa canât respond as the band steps on stage, a rush of excitement flowing through you when you see Hongjoong and Mingi in their spots. They both wave at you in the front row, Hongjoongâs smile growing extra wide when he sees Seonghwa. The bassist smiles at the crowd, his pink cheeks shining in the light. You wonder how such a cherub-looking guy ended up in a hard band like this. Though, his black tank top revealing his muscular form makes your head spin from how different his body is from his innocent-looking face.
Hongjoong seems at home on the stage, âHow we doing tonight?â His hype seems to work as the crowd cheers loudly and unapologetically, âThanks to KQ bar for having us. Iâm Hongjoong, thatâs Yeosang, our bassist, and we got Mingi on drums. Seems like weâre missing someone, though,â
Mingiâs voice rumbles through the microphone, âBring Jongho out!â
The crowd seems to squish you impossibly more, their screams nearly drowning your own thoughts. Rightfully so, as the lead singer walks out with a confidence that you envy. His leather pants shine under the stage lights, and he seems to bask in the attention he gets. His smirk grows with every step he takes towards the main stage. You feel heâs cocky, and you hate that you like it.
âHello, KQ,â He seems to command the room, silence enveloping the crowd when he speaks, âIâm glad you could make it tonight-â
Jongho scans the crowd, but he seems to pause at the sight of you. He still wears the smug look, ego wafting in the room and getting under your skin. Itâs a smaller venue and youâre somewhat close, so itâs easy to tell that heâs staring at you and no one else.
He points directly at you, finger seemingly digging into your soul, âLetâs have fun tonight.â
With that, the set starts. Mingiâs drums burst through your chest, the slow start to their first song hypnotizes you. The sound of the bass is what draws you in, and you look towards Yeosang, whoâs putting his entire heart into the sound. His fingers are delicate and pretty, the complete opposite to most bass players youâve seen. They strum expertly, long digits reaching to find the right note every time. You figure they could reach anywhere.
He must feel your eyes on him. Yeosang looks up with a focused, stoic look plastered on his face as he watches the scenery. As he looks around you lock eyes with him, a shy smile growing on his face when he realizes you arenât looking away. It seems to fuel his performance when he goes back to looking down at his bass.
The music is intense, Hongjoong and Mingi clearly pouring their passion into it. You know them and expected this fervor, but it surprises you when it comes from Jongho and Yeosang too. Jonghoâs voice sends chills down your spine with every high note sung. It reaches out to you, pulling the passion and feeling from you and taking that energy for his own growth. Watching him is watching art being made.
The set ends, and the 4 sweaty men on stage bow and thank the crowd. You feel Jonghoâs eyes on you again, that same soul-marking finger calling your attention to wink at you before he walks off the stage. Yeosang seems to call your attention too, a subtle wave landing your way before he too disappears behind the curtain.
As the lights flicker back on, Seonghwa turns to you with a sparkle in his eye, âThat was amazing! We need to go buy them drinks,â
You shrug, imposing nonchalance even though your face is turning red at the thought of meeting face to face with them after that, âSure, sounds good.â
Seonghwa raises a brow before laughing at your reluctance, âDonât think I didnât see that by the way. Yeosang was totally into you,â
You scoff and turn to walk towards the bar, âShut up, Seonghwa.â
Seonghwa harrumphs, but follows behind you. Itâs easy to spot Hongjoongâs blonde head of hair among the sea of people, âJoongie, stop hogging all the talent,â
He turns laughing at you, his warm arms wrapping around you, âCanât stop, wonât stop, baby,â
âHongjoong! That was your best performance yet. But can we talk about how Yeosang was totally eye-fucking Y/N the entire time?â Seonghwaâs somewhat tipsy, you conclude.
Hongjoong leans on the bar, âUhâŠno. Iâm still betting on Jongho and her. You know he was asking about you?â
You roll your eyes at their insistence, âYou just finished a set, why're you worried about my love life?â
Hongjoong rolls his eyes at you as heâs given a tray of drinks, handing some off to you and Seonghwa before walking ahead, âCome on, Jongho wants to meet you.â
He leads you towards the backstage. Hongjoong opens a door marked with a flimsy sheet of notebook paper, their band name written in purple marker. You hear Jonghoâs voice before anything else. Itâs embedded in your brain at this point. As you walk further in, his large frame and slicked back hair intimidates you. You fear youâve fallen for him already. With his hands in his leather jacket, he greets you with a lazy smirk. You can feel the stardom radiating off of him. It lets you know that whatever arrogance he has is completely warranted.
Before you can even say anything, Hongjoong makes a dumb excuse about forgetting something that requires him, Seonghwa, and Mingi. They leave quickly, knowing your protests would come faster.
You sigh inwardly to yourself, but Jongho seems all too pleased to be alone with you, âHow âbout a drink?â
He sits on the battered leather couch, legs spread and waiting for you to sit next to him. He raises a brow when you sit on the seat opposite him before handing you a shot glass, âHongjoong said youâre looking for a date,â His voice is quieter, softer now. Thereâs certainly a step down from his stage presence to the Jongho youâre talking to now. Maybe you were just being harsh in the assumption heâd be a pompous asshole earlier. You donât let yourself soften, though.
You snort, âWell, Hongjoong doesnât know what heâs talking about,â
Jongho downs his glass in a flash, turning to you with a charming smirk that makes you want to kiss it off his face, âSo itâs off the table?â
He says this like itâs an easy, everyday question. His poignant flirting sends a blush to your cheeks that glows under the dim lightbulb of the broken down room. Jongho thinks itâs the cutest thing heâs ever seen. You down your shot and heâs ready to up the ante on the flirting before Yeosang appears, wiping a towel over his sweaty face and greeting you with a soft smile that sends butterflies down your tummy.
âYeosang, this is-â
âY/N, right? Seonghwa told me about you. Howâd you like the show?â
God, you did not expect a voice like that, to come out of a face like that. His brown hair sticks to his forehead and his pale skin glows under the light, those same fingers you were admiring on stage are much more daunting close-up. They distract you as he taps on the arm of the seat across you, almost tauntingly.
âOh-um, it was great. You guys seem to really enjoy what you do,â
They stare at you with half-lidded gazes, like theyâre chewing on your words in their heads and analyzing you as a person. Youâd believe they hate you, if it werenât for the teasing, venemous grins they wore on their faces. Theyâve been around groupies long enough to recognize them, and you might not be one of them, but God, Jongho wants to train you until you only remember their names.
Jongho doesnât take his eyes off you, but he addresses Yeosang, âY/N was just telling me about how much she loves the band,â
Yeosang leans his head on the palm of his hand, his biceps popping in the lighting, âHmm, do you?â
You scoff to try to shake off their gazes, reaching for another glass, âYou guys believe Hongjoong way too much,â
Jongho grins at you like a predator, âI heard it from Mingi,â
Yeosangâs smile is teasing, âI heard it from Seonghwa,â
Youâre outnumbered, so you donât even bother saying anything about the teasing. The overflowing chatter outside and booming music drowns out any thoughts you attempt to have. You fear they can somehow hear your beating heart, like theyâre zeroing in on you and preparing to eat you alive. Yeosangâs hands tap against the chair again, your eyes flying to study the way they flex.
Jongho pipes up again, âYou seem to like Yeosangâs hands a lot. You know, heâll play whatever song you like.â
Yeosang stretches his fingers, watching the way your blush grows and the way your grasp tightens against the glass in your hand, âIâll do whatever you want,â
Yeosang stands from his seat and moves to stand in front of you. It forces your eyes upwards, his body heat and proximity turning your entire body into jelly. Suddenly, Jongho speaks up and his soft voice is the worst vice youâve faced yet, âWhy donât you let us give you a private show? Hmm?â His head tilts softly, the smug smile on his face as he leans back into the couch filling you with annoyance and desire.
You nod softly, mind a haze and heat pooling inside you. Yeosang reaches his hand up to your chin, pulling your mouth open with his thumb before pushing it between your lips. He watches with rapt interest as your tongue swirls around his digit, lips fighting to pull all of the sweat clean off his hand. The sound turns them on more than ever, the feeling of your saliva coating his fingers fueling the fire in his gut. He removes his thumb, playing with your lips as you leave tiny kisses over his fingers before he inserts his forefingers. You work on them again, saliva strings building between his hand and your mouth every time he pulls away.
Once Yeosang deems his hand wet enough he sits down next to you, slowly trailing his hand down your tummy and into your jeans. Itâs a tight fit, but Jongho reaches over to unbutton your pants for him. As soon as he does, Yeosangâs hand slips into your panties and finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles over it and groaning at the wetness that grows underneath his fingers.
Jongho seems content with watching you break. You writhe underneath Yeosangâs fingers as he expertly finds just the right spot and abuses it. You feel dirty with the wet spot that continues to grow on your pants, quiet moans filling the room alongside Yeosangâs panting breaths. Your hand grasps Yeosangâs when he runs his fingers along your folds, spreading your wetness against your skin and moaning at the feeling of you so turned on. He takes his hand out of your pants, the shine of your slick glistening in his eyes. He brings his forefingers to his lips, running his tongue along the length of them before he sucks them clean. He makes sure to be lewd about it, licking every single drop of your juices and smiling at you with your slick on his lips.
âHmm, you liked that didnât you?â Jongho hums as he stands to you, pulling your pants off in one swift motion. He kneels in front of you, running his palm over your wet panties. His large hand is different from Yeosangâs delicate fingers. He has a domineering touch that doesnât stop as he holds your thighs over his shoulders, pulling your panties down. His hands send tingles of pleasure down your spine when he kneads your skin, taking his time to feel and memorize every inch of you.
Jonghoâs fingers run through your slit, smearing the wetness that drips out of you. He teases you, watching as your impatience grows while his fingers stray from where you want them most. Suddenly, his lips are on you. He devours you like youâre the first meal heâs had in days, a man starved of the fruit between your legs. His tongue slips inside you and over you, tracing every inch of you and leaving a path of pleasure. He ravishes you while Yeosang watches beside you, his hands making quick work of your shirt.
They seem to have developed a system. Theyâre far too comfortable with sharing. The thought doesnât really form in your head as Jongho keeps marking you with his mouth, small kisses landing anywhere he can reach. He smirks at you when a whine slips from your lips when he spreads your thighs further, a glob of spit flowing from his pouty lips and onto you. He hisses at the sight, the shine of your pussy filling his gut with desire. His lips latch back onto your clit, his forefingers making their way inside you. He curls them ever so slightly, fucking you over and over again as his tongue flicks your button. Jonghoâs already figured out how you work, destroying you with a smile and a glint in his eyes from below.
Yeosang giggles when he sees you arenât wearing a bra, âYou got a nice rack.â
You admit if anyone else spoke those words to you, you wouldâve found it demeaning. But the way Yeosangâs soft voice compliments you sends a new wave of flames over your body.
Jongho grins and removes his lips from you, âKnew you were a fucking slut,â
You shake your head, but Jonghoâs got you pegged. The feeling of having two menâs attention on you at once is exhilarating. It has you on cloud nine. Jongho raises the speed of his fingers, the squelch of your pussy sounding out into the room. Yeosangâs hands fondle your tits, his thumb brushing over your nipple and bringing a sigh out of you.
He sends butterfly kisses down your jawline, âHmm, sheâs a nice slut, though. The prettiest one Iâve seen,â
Heâs too angelic. Everything about him is elegant and graceful, even the way he touches you. His low tone vibrates through your body, clashing with the harsh way Jongho keeps fucking you. He dominates the lower part of you, as if his hands have found their home. The juxtaposition between them sends your system into overdrive.
âYou wanna cum?â You nod frantically, âUse your words, slut.â
âP-please, JonghoâŠâ
Yeosang coos, âEven the way she begs is cute,â
Your legs are shaking at this point and Jonghoâs cock is leaking in his pants, weeping to be let out. Still, he lives to torture, âYou canât cum without my permission,â Your leg muscles clamp up, pouring all of your energy into not letting your orgasm slip out of you. Jongho notices your strain, âLook at you. What a good fucking slut you are.â
His fingers slip out of you and you whine at the loss, Yeosangâs gentle fingers playing with your nipples is simply not enough friction. Jongho stands, pulling you up with him, âIf you can take Yeosangâs cock, Iâll let you cum on mine. Deal?â
You don't even understand what youâre agreeing to, but you follow Jonghoâs orders. You feel Yeosang stand behind you, his arms wrapping around your torso and walking you until youâre in front of the coffee table in the middle of the room. He bends you over it, your knees knocking onto the soft carpet underneath. You donât think about how long ago it mustâve last been cleaned. You just think about Jongho sitting cross legged on the couch in front of you, his hand resting on his hard cock in his pants. Heâs eyeing you like a piece of meat as Yeosang leans over your back, his nose nuzzling against your hair. His long fingers run over the expanse of your back, the cold feeling sending shivers down your spine.
He leans back and spreads your ass, groaning at the sight of you dripping. You hear the sound of his belt buckle dropping and your nerves rise before a soothing hand drops onto your hips, massaging your skin. His voice rings right into your ear, âDonât worry, angel. Iâm not as mean as Jongho,â Said man scoffs, the slightest hint of a blush noticeable under the light. Before you can say anything, Yeosangâs cock teases your entrance, playing with your pussy with his tip. The feeling makes you whine, already edging into dangerous territory.
Yeosang slides in entirely, his long cock reaching the deepest parts of you. Your entire body goes numb as he gently thrusts, bouts of pleasure rising through every part of your body. Heâs whining pathetically, trying not to lose his mind and keep control at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, âS-sheâs so tight, Jongho, shit.â
Jonghoâs fidgeting in his seat, palming himself like thereâs no tomorrow and attempting to hide how weak he is already, âHow tight, Yeosang?â
Yeosang steadies himself on your hips, the speed of his thrusts increasing. Heâs like a desperate puppy trying to get his rocks off, his sweaty shirt on your back as he leans his head on your shoulder. Heâs lost himself to the pleasure. He moans into your ear, his heavy breaths a performance made just for you.
âThis is the best pussy Iâve had. Right, angel? Youâre being good for me?â he pants out.
You moan at the praise, âY-yes, Yeosang, all for you,â
Jonghoâs restless now. Watching the way the table shakes from Yeosangâs thrusts and the way you take it so well has him anxious to get inside of you. His cock strains in his pants, but heâll wait until Yeosangâs had his fill. Yeosangâs balls slap against your ass, the lewd sounds of his cock ramming in and out of you filling Jonghoâs ears. You feel yourself dripping down your thighs as Yeosangâs hand comes down to your clit. That seems to reignite you, an unbeatable wave of pleasure flooding over you. As Yeosang rubs circles on you, you clench down on him. He moans at the tightness, his hips and hand stuttering against you.
Jongho senses your struggling, âRemember what I said, slut,â your thighs tremble, âOr are you too cock-dumb right now?â
You shake your head but quickly fix your mistake, âN-no, Jongho,â
Your voice shakes against Yeosangâs hips pistoning into you, all rhythm lost as he chases his high. Heâs practically breathing for you now, his arms wrapped around your chest while his head rests on yours. He exerts all of his power, which is quite a lot surprisingly, into making you feel every inch of his cock. Jonghoâs eyes bore into yours as he watches you unravel, your glistening skin and teary eyes making his cock jump.
Just to make your torture worse, he leans into your face. His thumb pries open your lips, inviting itself into your mouth and taking control of you, âYouâre the best cock-slut Iâve seen. Taking Yeosang so well. Is he making you feel good?â
His voice is silky and entrancing and you canât help but give an honest answer, âS-so good, Jongho. Can I cum? Please?â
His sick smirk grows, âNope.â
A desperate whine drips from your lips, the burning desire bursting through to Yeosangâs cock as you squeeze him again. This time, a myriad of beautifully pathetic whines fall from Yeosangâs lips as heâs drained by you. He stills deep inside you, letting himself fill you and mark you as his property. He watches it drip down your thighs, the pearlescent liquid falling in droplets as you tremble.
Yeosang catches you before you can fall onto the table, âI think sheâs broken,â
He carries you, again with surprising ease, onto Jonghoâs lap. You lay limp against him, the leather of his jacket waking you slightly as he wraps his arms around you, âAlready? I havenât even fucked you yet,â
You nod your head, âI-I can take it, I wanna cum, Jongho,â
He laughs at you, head tipping and revealing the kissable dot on his neck, âSee? Youâre a fucking slut, baby,â his arms wrap tighter around you, one of his hands coming down to your clit and rubbing lazily, âDonât you worry. Iâll take care of you,â
Yeosang sits next to you, sitting and watching the way your pussy tries to keep his cum inside. Jonghoâs fingers stuff it back in, catching any thatâs still stuck on your thighs and putting it back where it belongs. He brings his hand up to your lips, your mouth opening automatically and accepting what he gives. Your tongue swirls to clean every inch of his hand, licking the sweat and cum off of his skin. Jongho lets out a shaky breath behind you.
Yeosang feels his cock standing again, the sight of you so easily submitting to Jongho getting him ready to go all over again, âFuck, I need to feel that pussy again.â
Jongho unzips his pants underneath you. You feel his cock at your entrance as he slides it in between your folds, wanting to torture you even more. Heâs smaller than Yeosang but much, much thicker. Yeosangâs cum lets you take Jonghoâs cock much easier, the stretch from before easing him in. You moan at the feeling, the fullness overtaking your senses.
Jongho leans back and stables himself on the floor. His voice is powerful against you, the sound of it alone making you shake in anticipation, âIâm gonna fill you up with my cum, and then you can cum all over me. Understand?â
He doesnât even let you answer before starting a wicked rhythm. He claps against you with no mercy, his grip on your hips holding you steady on his lap. Itâs delicious, the way he bounces you up and down on his cock and thrusts up into you at the same time. Jongho growls as your cream and Yeosangâs cum makes a mess of the both of you. Yeosang watches your tits bounce. The stench of sex fills the room and depravity fills his senses.
The power of Jonghoâs thrusts almost has you toppling over. Heâs ravenous with the way he fucks you, thick cock ramming into you over and over from below. Jongho fucking loves the feeling of having you broken atop him, having you at your most vulnerable and sensitive right under his fingertips. He squeezes your hips, groaning when you squeeze back.
His head drops to the couch, letting you drop and feel every inch and vein of his cock. The stretch of him is painfully delicious. Yeosang takes this moment of pause to snake a hand to your clit, causing you to jolt when he begins rubbing circles.
âY-yeosangâŠâ you plead as you feel a tsunami of pleasure coming closer and closer to falling atop you.
He kisses along your neck, the ticklish sensation sending you into overdrive. Along with Jonghoâs cock filling you and taking over your very being, you feel like youâre fighting a losing battle. Youâre determined to follow Jonghoâs rules, though.
Yeosang chuckles into your neck, âJust let her cum, Jongho,â
âYeah, baby? Do you need to cum?â He asks flatly, slamming you down harshly onto his cock again.
âP-please, I need to cum so b-badâŠâ
You feel like youâre about to burst and youâre sure Jongho can feel it too. He doesnât care, laughing as you continue to writhe and moan against Yeosangâs fingers, âI told you Iâm gonna fill this pussy with my cum first, okay? Stop being so fucking cock-dumb already,â
He leans back further into the couch, bringing your back to his chest as he gathers his last bit of force to fuck up into you. He hangs off the edge of the couch slightly, but thatâs not even a thought in his head as he continues to ram himself into you unforgivingly. Yeosang continues to tease and probe your bud, an evil smile forming on his face the longer he watches you unravel atop Jonghoâs rabid hips.
Jongho hisses when he feels you tighten. Your hole is too fucking good, draining him for all he has. He gives one last powerful thrust before releasing his load inside of you, his balls tightening up against you as he jolts and spasms underneath you. His cock twitches inside of you and with the feeling of him finally filling you and Yeosangâs relentless fingers, you come undone. The pleasure thatâs been building this entire time finally releases like a broken dam. It washes over you, unabated even after all this time. You feel every single one of your nerves explode inside you, your body seizing up against Jonghoâs as your pussy tightens impossibly more to take all Jongho has to give.
Yeosang sighs against you, âOh, angel, you take us so well,â
Just knowing that you have Yeosangâs and Jonghoâs cum flowing inside you has your entire body tingling. It sends you into an even higher tier of gratification, your orgasm prolonging every time Jongho spurts another shot of cum into you.
Jonghoâs voice is strained as he speaks, âFuck, look what a fucking dirty cum-slut you are.â
Itâs hard to get off of cloud nine once youâve reached it. You can distantly hear their soft voices in the back of your head, vastly different from their tones before. You feel the leather couch underneath your back, their cum dripping out of you, and Yeosangâs hand gently running through your hair.
He tries to lure you fully awake, but that doesnât happen until Jongho brings a warm towel to clean you. Your teary eyes squint under the light and youâre surprised at how weak you feel. Your body feels like jelly as Jongho hands Yeosang a towel to clean up the sweat on your upper body.
Youâre not entirely sure whatâs happening, but a blur of emotions is still flowing through you, âHeyâŠyou donât have toâŠâ you sleepily let out.
They donât say anything in return so neither do you. Jongho slips your panties back on, Yeosang pulling you softly upwards to put your shirt back on. You feel surprisingly cared for after getting your brains fucked out. You hadnât expected it from two guys who probably do this every night.
They sit with you as you gather your bearings. Jongho traces patterns onto your legs, mindlessly staring at you. It sends a different kind of heat to your body. The kind that has you shrinking into yourself, blushing and hiding your face in your hands. You pretend itâs from sleepiness, but Jongho knows better. Yeosang hums beside your head, still running his hands through your hair delicately.
You feel more alive after a while, finally gathering the energy to sit up, âThis doesnât mean Iâm your groupie now, by the way,â
âYou wouldâve been my favorite,â Jongho grins.
Yeosang pouts, âI donât think Hongjoong would approve,â You both raise a brow at him, âWhat? He has the power to kick me out of the band, I have to be careful.â
Jongho laughs aloud as you giggle alongside him. You sort of feel at home with them, and not just because they rearranged your guts. They touch you softly, in ways that say they know everything about you. Youâd rather not fall into that hole. Right now, you lay content in the moment in between them in this dingy room with their hands on you.
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 handsâthe 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 â 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 â 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, Iâ"
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 perfectâ 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 elseâ 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 overwhelmingâ 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.Â
âGotta make sure sheâs full right?â He spat on his hand, stroking his cock to make it slick, and then moved forward, positioning himself at your already occupied entrance.Â
Your eyes widened, a jolt of panicked excitement shooting through you. âW-wait! I- I can't!âÂ
âYes you fucking can, donât be weakâ Sanâs voice was low but reassuring, his arms tightening around you to hold you still. âTake a deep breath, I got you babyâÂ
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.Â
âThatâs it baby.. Youâre doing so wellâ Wooyoung coaxed, his voice calming you down.Â
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 SanâsÂ
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.Â
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 Sanâs shoulder. Your body limp and pliant in his arms as they used you, their shared grunts and groans sending you into another world.Â
âSo fucking perfectâ San whispered in your ears, âSuch a good little slutâÂ
âMade to be stuffed fullâ 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 Sanâs face resides and claimed the older maleâs lips. Like, theyâve done this before.Â
You could feel the two move their heads as they locked their lips, it was the most erotic thing you have ever witnessed.Â
The dirty words, combined with the relentless, dual stimulation, were your undoing. Your orgasm didnât 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
They all work in tandem, a perfect coordinated machine of pure filth. Sanâs hips thrust up from below, Wooyoungâs 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.Â
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.Â
âFuck Iâm gonna cumâ Mingi groaned, his hand tightening around your hair as he began to fuck your face in earnest. âSwallow it allâ fuck.âÂ
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.Â
The sight of it, the feeling of you swallowing around Mingi, was the last straw for the two.Â
âGonna fill you upâ San snarled in your ear, his teeth grazing your neck as his hips slammed up into you one last time.Â
âTake itâ Wooyoung groaned, his eyes wild as he drove deep.Â
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.Â
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.Â
You collapsed forward onto the couch, used, quivering and a satisfied mess.Â
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.Â
Then, a sound cut through the haze.Â
It was your phone, buzzing and skittering across the coffee table. The sharp, insistent chirp of your custom ringtoneâ a cheerful, upbeat pop songâ was scarily out of place. The screen lit, illuminating the name in bold, glowing letters Yunho.Â
The air turned into ice. Wooyoung who broke the silence, a slow wicked grin spreading across his face.Â
âWell, Wellâ He drawled, his voice a low purr against your ears.Â
âLooks like Boyfriendâs checking inâÂ
You yanked your dress on, grabbing the baggies on the table as panic washes over you.Â
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? Itâs supposed to be a chill, easy elective. Light reading, maybe a little âhow do you feel about that?â energy. That's what everyone told you. âYou could pass this psych subject with both eyes closed and let God take the wheel!â Was what one of your friends said and you were like okay, bet.Â
Your lecturer is an asshole. Not just any asshole either, heâs the kind that makes you believe Sigmund Freud has risen from the grave just to personally ruin your GPA. Youâre 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 âand this is why Freud was actually right.â
The lecture hall is silent, not because people are learning.But because everyone is collectively thinking: why is he like this.
âHeâs so fucking weird,â you rant, flopping dramatically onto Wooyoungâs bed like a Victorian woman with consumption. Wooyoung doesnât even look up at first. Heâs halfway through a juice box like a five-year-old, laptop balanced on his knee as he scrolls through his module.
âIf itâs that bad,â he hums, finally glancing at you, âIâve got a friend who took that psych subject last semester.â You narrow your eyes. âIf you say you, Iâm dropping out.â He ignores you, âHigh school friend. Got like⊠a 95 or something.â
You sit up immediately. âOh.â
âYeah,â he nods. âRemember San? The guy I introduced you to during orientation?â You do remember Choi San. Unfortunately. Because nothing about that man screams âpsychology major.â
He looks like he invests in crypto for fun. Hoodies, varsity jackets, and now because itâs summer, collared polos that make him look like heâs about to discuss property investments over brunch at a country club. Add in the slightly slicked-back hair and those stupidly attractive âprofessor glassesâ Wooyoung wonât shut up about? Yeah. If anything, he looks like the type to say âtrust me, broâ before losing your life savings.
But annoyingly, heâs 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.Â
Every Thursday at 3pm, without fail, you show up at his student dorm. The sun is brutal, like âif I step outside any longer I might legally evaporateâ 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 âis this a minimalist prison?â. A soulless, overpriced shoebox where the entire personality is âneutral tonesâ and âminimalistâs wet dreamâÂ
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 youâre 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 theyâve 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 wouldnât think youâre dumb. Youâre nodding like you understand everything. Youâre saying things like âthatâs interestingâ 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 youâre 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 youâre still answering everything correctly, so he just lets it go.
Youâre 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 Adamâs 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.Â
Then he continues, like nothing happened. You pretend you didnât notice, of course. But as it turns out.Â
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, heâs offended. You can tell. He pauses more, and his jaw tightens. But over time, he just exhales and resigned to continuing his ramble.
â...as long as youâre listening,â he mutters once while flipping through his notebook
You are listening, surprisingly. He is good at explaining.
Youâre just also on TikTok, scrolling through videos. You are a multitasker, after all.Â
three.Â
âSo, neutral stimulation essentiallyââ He stops mid-sentence for the first time, his jaw clenches before inhaling slowly like heâs 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.Â
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. âLose your train of thought, professor?â
He doesnât even look at you, murmuring as he flips through his notes from last semester âDonât call me that.â
âOh?â you tilt your head, sweet and insufferable. âBut the glassesââ
âContinue reading page 42.â
âWow,â you lean back, crossing your legs slowly, deliberately. âAuthoritative.â
Silence.
âYouâre failing this subject.â
You grin at him, the same grin that Wooyoung has. Physically it's different, but it radiated the same amount of mischief and playfulness.Â
âNot with you teaching meâ you purr at him.Â
He mentally rolls his eyes at you.Â
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 âlet's say you're crossing a road, you press on the pedestrian button. Do you think that counts as classical or operant conditioning?â He turns to you, your eyes are still glued to whatever interesting video your friends are sending you as you hum, âoperant. You receive reward or feedback from an action.âÂ
âThat's correct,â San says, "if every single time you wear a short skirt," a beat, "and I get hard, is that a voluntary or involuntary response?âÂ
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 floorsÂ
"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'tâ"
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. âInvoluntaryâ you say, because the skirt was before the.. because the response would be⊠becauseâŠ
"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'sâ" 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.Â
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.Â
Three weeks of blue balls in his own dorm room on a Thursday at 3pm like clockwork and he is done. â your pupils dilated when I moved closer. That's not something you can fake, dove." Sanâs eyes are like laser beams staring into yours, and you have to pretend that you're not intimidated.Â
âI have no idea what you're talking aboutâ 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. âYou've been conditioning me tooâ San says gently âevery Thursday you always wear these..short skirts and slightly unbuttoned henley topsâ his eyes flickered down to your slightly exposed chest âdid you think I wouldn't notice the pattern, dove?âÂ
You decided to bring Wooyoung into the conversation as a last resort, somewhat of a âhail Mary'. âWhat will Wooyoung think about this?â 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.Â
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.â
The position he's got you in is embarrassing.Â
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 appropriateâ"Â
 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 itÂ
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.Â
San licks into you rough and thorough, not slowly, not academically;Â 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."
"Sanâ"
"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'reâ"
"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.â
"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 minutesâ" 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.Â
"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 youâre 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.Â
"San, San that's tooâ" 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.Â
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.Â
 "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 apologyÂ
"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.Â
"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. âMean 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 mercyÂ
"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.Â
"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.Â
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 shoulderÂ
"San, wait. I'm stillâ"
"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.Â
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 marksÂ
"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.Â
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.Â
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. Sanâs 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.
"Fuckâ"
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.
"Sanâ"
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 afternoonÂ
"Oh,"Â he says, soft and devastated, "oh that'sâ"
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 atâ" another thrust, "you're taking all of meâ" 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.Â
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.Â
"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.Â
"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'mâ" 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.Â
"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.Â
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'sâ" 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.Â
 "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?"
Youâre 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.Â
You have a feeling that this will go on till the golden hour passes and the evening hues taken on the room, and youâre 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.Â
Pairing: Yunho x f!Reader
Summary: After breaking up with your ex, Yunho makes you an offer to help. However, you only think of him as a golden retriever, your sweet best friend who would be too vanilla to actually help you. That is until....
Genres + Warnings 18+ Minors DNI! friends-to-lovers, kinda mean dom!Yunho, sub!Reader, unprotected P in V, breast play, rough sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, creampie, choking, big dick!Yunho, dirty talk, degradation (reader is called slut), praise kink (lmk if I missed any)
A/N: This is my first time writing Ateez but like we all saw the Spiderman suit. I just had to try my hand. This is all fictional and not an actual depiction of the band or members
Word Count: 3,327
âOh come on, Yunho. Youâre like Peter Parker and letâs face it, Iâm no MJ. I donât want a hero.â You spoke with a scoff at the quite ridiculous proposal he made.Â
You had just broken up with your ex (long overdue) and were complaining about his inability to get you there. He left you tightly wound and tense, an inability to fully relax without that outlet. Yunho, hearing this and seeing how affected you've been through the breakup, offered to help you out.
âOh? Then you want me to be a villain?â Yunho asked with a smirk as he sat in the chair next to you. Head leaning on his hand as he looked you up and down again.
A dark glint in his eyes you'd never seen before sent a chill down your spine. Your best friend had never looked at you like thisâwith such hunger. The air in the room becomes heavy and charged with something you hadnât expected from your best friend.
âIâm not asking you to be what youâre not.âÂ
âWhat about an anti-hero?âÂ
âStill a hero arenât they?â You asked with a raised eyebrow. You silently hoped he would drop itâmove on or go back to the movie you were watching.Â
âYeah⊠but different.â His eyes held yours. You could get lost in the dark chocolate if you let yourself. The tension becoming nearly unbearable, as you fidget in your seat.Â
You hesitated before finally asking. âHow so?âÂ
âLet me show you.â He offered, holding out his hand.Â
You glanced between his hand and his face.Â
This was Yunho. Your friend that you had known for what seemed like your entire life. The golden retriever who would help you in any way that he could just to be near you. The sweet and caring boy your family trusted no questions asked. He would bear any weight if it eased the burden on your own shoulders. The one who invited you over to hear out your troubles. Now toeing the line of something more than friends. A line you weren't sure should be crossed.Â
âYunho, weââ
âThis doesn't have to change anything. I just wanna help. Your ex was terrible and I just wanna help take the edge off.âÂ
âYou think you can?â You couldn't help the bratty retort from coming out if you wanted to.Â
âOh, I know I can. I just need your permission.â His smirk seemed to grow as he edged his hand closer to you once more. The golden retriever energy that was usually so welcoming had turned predatory.Â
The look in his eyes gave the sense that he knew what he was doing to you. Knew how his words were hitting homeâstarting the engine that only he knew how to rev.
âDonât make me regret this.â You whispered as you placed your hand into his. The warmth sending a tingling sensation through your arm as you allow him to pull you up.Â
âYou won't.â
He leads you to his bedroom and pushes you against the door as soon as itâs shut. You could feel the vibration of the door against your back as you heard the click of the handle seal the door shut. One hand cups your neck, tilting your head up while the other moves to your waist. His eyes search yours for a sign of doubt.
âYou have a safe word?â
âNo?â You question, hesitant. Your ex was as vanilla as you could get and sought out his own pleasure over yours. A safe word was never created or deemed necessary.
âYou do now, just say Venom if you need me to stop. Okay?â His tone commanding but protective as he pressed into you.
âReally? Like theââ Of course your nerdy friend would find a way toâYunho gave you a look, cutting off your retort. âOkay, I understand.â
His eyes search yours, looking for any doubt. Your heart races, pounding against your chest. Questions of reality seeped into your head. Was he really about to do this? Was he truly prepared to cross this lineâto dive over the edge?
Before you can put a voice to these questions, he dives in. His lips crashing on to yours with the heat of a burning fire. Your head tilts back against the door as he moves a leg between yours. You breathe him in, his rich cologne filling your senses with nothing but him. His hand sliding up your waist, going under your shirt, and stopping just below your breasts where your bra line is.Â
Moving away a moment, your top is removed and thrown to the floor. The sound of the fabric hitting the floor is muted by your deep breaths. You quickly tug Yunho back to you by the front of shirt causing a chuckle to leave his lips.Â
âEager are we? Me too, been thinking of this for monthsâ He confesses, causing you to gasp.Â
Your thoughts reevaluating the friendship you shared with him. The subtle touches you shared, especially around others. The protectiveness that you thought was just him being caring, seemed to shift to a more jealous tone at his confession. Yet you couldnât say that you hated it. If anything it made you want to pull him, pull him closerâtip over the edge in front of you.Â
His hands finding their way to the clasp of your bra. His leg moves higher as you grind down to create the friction you need. A burning desire filling you as he moved to nip at your ear.Â
âYunho, donât tease.â You pleaded, tugging at his shirt to remove it.Â
âYeah? You think this is teasing? You just need to be patient. Good girls get what they want.â He whispered into your ear, a chill moving down your spine. Removing your bra, he cups your breasts in his hands.Â
His mouth begins a trail of open mouth kisses down your neck to your chest before sucking a nipple into his mouth. Using his fingers to pinch the other, almost painfully, a soft moan falls from your lips. You felt him smirk as he released your hard nipple with a pop.Â
âOh? You like that? Like a little roughness, donât you?â He asked, blowing air onto your hard nipple causing another shiver to go down your spine. You couldnât answer as your brain tried to comprehend the mean behavior coming from your closest friend. He continued to pinch your other nipple, twisting it after a moment. You yelped as he chuckled.Â
âGood sluts answer when asked something.âÂ
âYes! Yes, sorry.â You answered hurriedly, not expecting this from your sweet Yunho. The whiplash smacks your senses to alert. He chuckled as his eyes met your wide ones.Â
He gives the same treatment to your other nipple as his free hand undoes the button of your jeans.Â
After releasing your breasts, he pulls down your pants as he kisses down your stomach to your panties. Helping you step out of your pants, he then moves up your legs, glancing up at you as he pauses over the only clothing left on your body.
âSuch a good girl. Tell me what you want.âÂ
âI want you. Touch me, please.â You begged softly.
âI am touching you.â His hands grip your thighs lightly, a reminder of their placement.
âYunhooo.â You whine, bucking your hips in an attempt to put his attention where you need it. The heat building becomes almost unbearable.You could feel your wetness pooling uncomfortably in your panties. The clothing feels too tight against your now sensitive skin. You attempt to rub your thighs together only for Yunho's body to stop you.
Yunho scoffed before lightly pinching your thigh.Â
âGood girls don't whine. Use your words.â
âTouch me, my pussy, please, Yunho. Just pleaseââ You beg, bucking your hips again.Â
âGood girl.â He mumbled as he kisses the inside of your thigh, hooking his fingers into your panties and slowly pulling them down. A soft moan escaping your lips as the restrictive material peels away from your body.
Moving your legs over his shoulders, he lifts you to exactly where he wants you. Your weight fully against him and his door.
âSo wet, and all for me. Always wonder howâd you tasteâhowâd you sound.â He speaks, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. He then dives into your core, wide tongue pressing flat against you causing your head to fall back again.
Your hand finds his hair as moans pour out of your chest. Yunho groans, sending vibrations straight to your core. You clench around nothing as his tongue circles your clit.
âSo sweet, perfect little pussy.â He mumbles, pulling away only a moment before reattaching his lips to suck your clit into his mouth. One hand reaches around to part your lips. All while the other toys with your entrance, rubbing a teasing circle around it before sinking in a finger knuckle deep.Â
He thrusts in a few times before having a second join. Starting a scissoring motion, you feel the delicious pain of a stretch join your pleasure. All while he continues to lap and suck at your clit, abusing the tiny nub.
âYunho!â You moan, fingers digging into his scalp, causing him to groan.
âEyes on me, baby girl.â He speaks, pulling his mouth away for a moment. Voice deep and rough as his thumb quickly takes the vacant spot his mouth left. You struggled to move your head to follow his command, eyes meeting his once more. âYou don't cum until I say so, got it?â
His question goes unanswered as a sudden rough thrust and curl of his fingers causes your head to lull back as you moan.
A moment later his hand stops as he pulls his fingers away. A whine involuntarily escapes your mouth as your hips attempt to chase his fingers.Â
âAnd here I thought you could be good for me, but you can't even answer a simple question.â He speaks, carefully setting your legs down. After making sure you were good to stand on your weakened legs, he rises to his feet. The coldness of the room is more apparent as his heat leaves you.
âOn the bed, hands and knees.â He orders, moving away from you.
You hesitate only a moment before moving toward the bed. You crawl onto the sheets, glancing over your shoulder when you hear the sound of his belt coming undone.Â
His shirt was removed and you stared at his defined chest for a moment. Catching your eyes, Yunho smirks as he pulls his belt free from the loops. Chucking it to the side of the room, he makes to undo his pants.Â
âEyes forward.â
At the command, you whip your head back not wanting to fan the flames anymore. Curiosity dangled in front of you like a carrot on a stick, but you refused to accept it. You took a deep breath attempting to calm the pounding in your chest as you hear him shuffle closer to the bed. You feel the mattress shift as he leans on it. His hand skims over the skin of your ass as he sharply inhales.Â
âSo beautiful.â He mumbled as he raised his hand and brought it back down with a sharp smack. âCount for me.â He orders, rubbing the now sore spot.Â
âOne.â Your voice already having a slight shake in it causing him to chuckle.Â
âThink you can handle ten?âÂ
âYes, sir.â The title slipped out easily causing more heat to rise on your face and ears. You speak without hesitation, but when the next slap doesn't come you start to wonder if your really can handleâ
SLAP! He groans as he brings his hand down on the other cheek.
âTwo.â
Pleasure mixes with pain as he continues at a steady pace. Each new slap brings a new wave of pleasure directly to your core. Wetness pools and spreads down your thighs. Moans mixing in with your counting as you collapse to your elbows. Tears threatened to fall from the corners of your eyes as you hide your head in his pillows. The coolness of his sheets, a nice contrast to the heat of your raw skin.
âTen.â You sobbed into the pillow after the final blow.âÂ
âWhat was that? Couldnât quite hear you.â He taunted, rubbing your sore skin to ease some of the pain.Â
âTen!â You cried louder, lifting your head to look at him. He was smirking as he met your eyes.Â
âLook at you, so desperate.â he spoke as his hands spread you apart. âAll wet and dripping for me. I think you liked your punishment, didn't you?â His fingers dip to collect some of your arousal, before moving them to your mouth.Â
âSuck.âÂ
Your mouth opens automatically, welcoming his fingers. You lap at the digits, moaning at your own taste, before wrapping your lips fully around them. You trail your eyes up to his as you begin to suck. There's a fire in his eyes you'd never seen before. The dark chocolate hardening right in front of you.
The intensity turns you on in a way you didn't think possible.Â
âThink you can handle my cock now?â He asks as he removes his fingers slowly from your warm cavern.
âYes, please! Yunho, please give it to me. Just fuck me, pleââ
Your words were cut off by a moan as you felt the head of his cock slowly ease its way into you. He was much larger than you were used to. The stretch burning as you tried to subconsciously pull away.Â
His hands quickly stop you, gripping your hips, keeping you in place.
âWhere you going? I thought this was what you wanted? Can my baby girl not handle it? Is my dick too big for you?â He taunts as he continues to push.Â
âItâs too muchâtoo big. Yunho, I can't.âÂ
âYou can. My baby girl was made for me. Squeezing me so tight. Fuck, I'm almost there. Gonna feel so good, baby. Just relax and take itâtake me.âÂ
Yunho mumbled as he continued to push. You could feel the veins and pulse of his cock as it sunk in deeper. Every time you thought he was done, it just kept going. A slow stretch that continued until you felt him hit your cervix. It was a delicious burn that had you clenching your eyes shut. Tears threatening to spill from them. His hips becoming flush with yours.
He leaned over, putting his weight gently on your back. He placed a couple kisses on your shoulder before leaning up to your ear.Â
âSo tight and perfect. Made just for me.â He spoke in a deep whisper. The words cause you to clench. A soft moan leaving your lips. He groans as he leans back, hands rubbing your hips. Your breath slowly became even as the pain gave way to a pure bliss as your eyes fluttered open once again.
âYunho, move, please.â You begged, glancing over your shoulder to see a slight smirk on his face.Â
Gripping your hips, he pulled back until only his tip remained before thrusting sharply back in with a snap of his hips. The pace he set was brutal as it shook the bed, headboard banging into the wall from the intensity of each thrust. Bruises would form where his fingers dug in.
Your hands dug into his pillow and sheets. Trying to ground yourself in the intense raw pleasure coursing through your body. Like a large wave dangerously crashing on a beach.
Moans tumbled from your mouth. Cries of his name and curses mixing together in a beautiful cacophony. Yunhoâs grunts and groans sending jolts straight to your core.Â
He then leaned over once more. A hand slid between your legs to find the bundle of nerves that would bring you even closer to the edge. The other holds his weight beside you, as to not crush you beneath him fully.
âYunho, please!âÂ
âPlease, what? What does my girl need?âÂ
âLet me cum, please.â You sobbed, burying your head in his pillow once again.Â
His lips brushed your ear, hips barely slowing in their thrusts.Â
âCum for me.â He growled, sending you straight over.Â
Feeling you clench, Yunho slowed for only a moment. Removing the hand from your clit to rub soothing circles into your hip. He groans deeply in your ear before continuing the brutal pace he originally set.Â
âYu-Yunho! Itâs too much!â You spoke, one of your hands moving toward his body to push him away.
âToo much? But we just got started, baby. You can handle it. You can always use your safeword if you need me to stop. But you can give me one more, right? My good girl can give me another.â He spoke in your ear before attaching his lips to your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin there.Â
Venom danced around in your head only for a moment, as pleasure began to pool in your core once again. The word at the tip of your tongue as the flames of pleasure threatened to burn you.
Moans tumbled from you as your senses became overwhelmed. The drag of him lighting your nerve ends on fire, a burning pleasure consuming everything. Your thoughts go mush as you push back against him, chasing every thrust as he pulls back.Â
He then wraps his hand around your throat, pulling you up so your back meets his chest. Brutal thrusts not stopping as he chuckles darkly in your ear.Â
âYeah, that's what you need, huh? Someone to be rough and treat you like the little slut you are?â He growls and you can feel yourself clench even harder.Â
The finger on your clit returns, rubbing faster and harder on the abused nerve. Waves of pleasure wash over you as your hands grip onto Yunhoâs arms.Â
âLook at you, so beautiful like this. No thoughts, just cock drunk on my dick. Sucking me in so good. Never wanna leave this perfect pussy.âÂ
Yunhoâs thrusts become erratic as he continues to ramble. You can feel him pulsing against your sensitive walls as he hones in on his own release.Â
âWhere do you want me, baby?âÂ
You struggle to find your voice for a moment âInside!â You finally cry out. âI n-need it in-inside.âÂ
âYeah?â He chuckles at your struggle. âWant me to breed you like a bitch in heat?â You couldnât stop the moan at his words from tumbling out.Â
âOf course you do. I knew youâd like that. Cum for me baby. Iâll give you what you need, but you gotta cum first.â He ordered snapping the coil to your release once again. A shattering feeling causing you to lose all sense of feeling for a moment.Â
âThatâs it, so perfect. Iâm gonnaââ His words get cut off by his own moan as he falls over the edge moments after you. He thrusts a couple more times, riding out your highs before slowly pulling out.
Yunho's hands moved to support you as he helps you lay down on your back.Â
âYou okay? Still with me?â He asks after a moment and you nod.Â
âYeah, I'm here.â Your voice is quiet, softer than normal.Â
âI'm gonna grab a towel to clean you up, I'll be right back.â He explains as he makes his way off the bed. The golden retriever you were used to, returning after the night's activities bringing a familiar warmth to your heart. He leaves the room for less than five minutes, coming back with a wet towel.Â
Yunho's hands are gentle as he cleans. His eyes watching your reactions and pausing when needed. He massages your legs lightly before throwing the towel in his hamper. He then joins you in the bed, carefully pulling you to his chest.Â
 âHey Yunho?â You speak after a moment.
Humming in acknowledgement, he tilts his head down to look at you.Â
