Hi, I am Brielle or call me Bri. Iâm a 25 year old woman just sharing my thoughts, creations, and passion for K-pop, particularly my ultimate group, ATEEZ. I primarily post ATEEZ fanfiction. My writing style often explores themes ranging from deep angst and drama to comforting fluff and steamy romance. Mostly smuts. Mentions, tags, and comments are fine with me as a way of interaction. (#n01likeu is my yapping station. You can also find the anonymous entries there.)
âMy Loves: My ATEEZ biases are Seonghwa, Yunho and Yeosang. The rest are still my bias, Iâm an OT8.
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If you are following for Mature content, you must be 18+.
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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.
Iâm proofreading a Hwa x Jongho x reader fic and fighting with my sleepy ass as I type this. Iâll give yâall a heads up if you want. Iâll be posting this on AO3 by the way!
pairingïčąjung wooyoung x fem!reader x jeong yunho
genreïčąsmut. porn with little plot, contains heavy dialogue, toy use, edging, overstimulation, orgasm control, mild sadism, usage of petnames (angel, baby, princess).
synopsisïčąnothing is ever just a game with wooyoung, and with yunho involved... they push all of your buttons.
word countïčą3,7k
âwhat do you mean you donât know where it is?â
WOOYOUNG doesnât even look at you at first. heâs standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt before ruffling his hair, letting a few strands of dark bangs fall into his eyes. he was so calm, didn't even care much about the remote to the toy in your panties was gone. you, on the other hand, are seconds away from losing it, pacing on the edge of your patience, your mind spiraling faster with every second he doesnât react.Â
âi donât know,â he says simply, reaching for his perfume, spritzing it once, then twice, the citrus scent quickly filling the room. he looks confident and so sure of himself, and somehow that makes it worse. because no matter how put together he is right now, he still canât answer one simple question â where is it? maybe some poltergeist had hidden it somewhere. it will appear someday by chance, so donât worry that pretty little head of yours.
âyouâre unbelievable and so irresponsible,â you scoff at him, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. he's never lost it before, not once. it's always in a pocket of his jacket or jeans, somewhere easy to reach. not something that just⊠disappears. what, did it fall into some kind of void? vanish into thin air?Â
âyouâre the one who agreed to wear it.â finally glancing at you through the mirror, one brow slightly raised, as his gaze drags over you from head to toe. fitted black long-sleeve crop top, short flowy skirt, chunky boots, jewelry catching the light, every detail carefully put together, and all he thinks about is the accessory hidden underneath.
âthat was under the assumption you wouldnât lose the damn remote.â to him, you still looked pretty even when you were angry or irritated.
âi didnât lose it,â he corrects, turning to face you, leaning back against the dresser like he has nothing to worry about. âi just donât know where it is.â
you exhale, trying to ignore the way your pulse is already picking up just from the situation itself. this just couldn't be happening. if it were a condom, no problem, as if you didnât prefer to do it raw. or whatever small thing like forgetting to buy eggs or chocolate. that's more forgivable than something like a remote control for the very expensive toy he bought to torture you with.
âwoo, thatâs basically the same thing.â
ânot really.â
âthereâs no point in me even wearing this if you canât control it.â
âmaybe itâs in my car.â
âmaybe?â
âguess weâll find out.â and just like that, he puts on his shoes and grabs the car keys, heading for the door, leaving you standing there, stomach twisting with the uneasy feeling that heâs not nearly as clueless as heâs pretending to be.
you and wooyoung arenât dating. you donât see anyone else, he doesnât, either. itâs⊠whatever this is. something in between, exclusive, but unlabeled. days that blur into nights harder to walk away from. kisses that linger, hands that donât know when to stop because with him, everything always leads somewhere, tension that never really fades.
he calls you angel when youâre trying to be a sweet devil. baby when youâre glaring at him, princess when youâre about to snap, and brat when you behave like one. you call him annoying, dickhead, little shit, sometimes baby slips out, when youâre not thinking too hard about it.Â
itâs inevitable. he likes control, thrives on it. pushes until you push back, just to see how far youâll go before you give in. and you pretend you donât enjoy it, but you love and appreciate him more than anything; he is your soulmate, perhaps, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. people donât ask questions anymore. to them, youâre just wooyoungâs girl, and whether thatâs made official or not, you donât correct them.
the thing is, itâs not just teasing and tension. he knows how to take care of you, too. soften after heâs been rough and give just as much as he takes. he keeps you on your tippy toes, yes, but he also knows exactly how to spoil you and make it feel like youâre the only one heâs paying attention to.
maybe thatâs why you stay. and maybe thatâs why, even after checking the car and coming up empty, youâre still standing there with him, wearing the damn thing like it wasnât a mistake to begin with.
âbaby, relax,â he says, closing the car door with a soft thud as he locks it, shrugs like itâs nothing. âitâs not the end of the world.â
you stare at him as you wait for him to get on your side so you can walk together to the building. he smirks, stepping closer, just enough to mess with your already delicate balance. you open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off.
âif youâre that desperate,â murmuring as he doesnât look bothered. if anything, he looks more amused. âi can always take care of it myself.â
âhow, exactly?â you ask, and his gaze stops at your face, taking in your beautiful features once again.
âmy fingers,â he adds, like heâs listing options. âmy mouth. whatever my princess needs.â
you swallow, trying to hold your ground, even as heat creeps up your neck, then he leans in just enough, voice brushing past your ear, âbut donât even think about asking for more. not with that attitude you had earlier.â
your breath catches for half a second before you recover, shoving lightly at his chest. you hate how his words settle somewhere under your skin, because as much as you want to think otherwise, you know he means it.
the place is quieter than you expected. you and wooyoung are the first to arrive early, for once. when you checked the time, you realized youâd be here almost twenty minutes ahead of everyone else. youâre usually right on time, or at least not the first through the door.
âhey, donât think too much about it,â he murmurs as you stand in front of the door after ringing the bell, his hand settling at your lower back, warm against your bare skin. âjust relax and try to have fun.â
right on cue, the door swings open, and there he is â the man of the hour.
âwooyoung, (name), didnât expect you to come that early,â YUNHO says, greeting you both with that charming and welcoming smile.
âcongratulations on the ten million, yu!â you say, handing him the small gift bag. âthis is from me and woo, something small, but from the heart.â
âyou shouldnât have, your support was already enough,â he cuts in, taking it with a grin. âbut thank you. now come in.âÂ
he lets you both inside, already talking about the milestone and how unexpected it was. he figured it was worth celebrating with the people closest to him. ten million subscribers on youtube, a diamond button, and a whole career built off a screen, and somehow still the same yunho youâve always known.
you settle onto the couch, nodding along as you listen. beside you, wooyoung drops down without a second thought, legs spreading to take up more space than necessary, his arm draping over your shoulders, a little territorial. yunho moves around in front of you, back turned as he fixes up drinks, adjusting things here and there. then he reaches for the remote on the table.Â
âlet me just put something on while we wait for the others.â
you barely notice it at first, until you do. a faint vibration, subtle enough to miss if you werenât already on edge. but then you feel it a little stronger now, your entire body goes still. next to you, wooyoung doesnât move, but you catch the slight tension in him before he relaxes again. he knows something you donât.Â
yunho keeps clicking absentmindedly, frowning at the tv. âwhy isnât this turning on?â
your fingers curl into the hem of your skirt, trying your very best to stay calm and not to move so much, because the tv isnât the thing he turned on.
the realization hits wooyoung first. his gaze flicks to the remote in his friend's hand, then back to you. so thatâs where it went, huh? a few days ago, you were at yunhoâs again, along with san and mingi. hanging out and trying a new game while the youtuber showed off his new tv, whose remote looked almost identical to the other one for the vibrator.
because if that remote is in yunhoâs hand, then that means â yes, the tv remote is at wooyoungâs place, tucked away somewhere after he probably took it by mistake. and he had been wondering why the toy wasnât working, thought the batteries had died or that it needed charging. clearly, he hadnât bothered to check. he told you he lost it to avoid nagging from you about breaking expensive things again.
wooyoung leans back into the couch, the initial surprise fading as amusement settles in. his hand squeezes your shoulder gently, almost reassuring, if it werenât for the situation. youâre trembling slightly at first, your lips press together tightly, but a soft moan slips out. your hand flies to your mouth too late, and thatâs what makes yunho turn, glancing at you with concern.Â
âare you okay?â youâre not.
ây-yeah, iâm o-okay,â you manage to answer somehow, voice unsteady, but heâs already clicking the remote again, and it speeds up. your voice betrays you again, as wooyoung tilts his head, leaning in so only you can hear him. âsure about that, angel?â
you shoot him a look from the corner of your eye, but he only gives you that same cocky grin.Â
yunho presses another button. the sensation spikes stronger this time, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to hold it in. it hits deeper now, the vibrations hit your core, your thighs press together, and you can feel how wet you are getting already.
âyunho,â your so-called âboyfriendâ says in that playful tone of his you grew up to despise, âmaybe try the other button.â
your eyes snap open instantly. yunho hums, doing exactly that. you clamp your hand over your mouth when a little louder moan than before slips into the quiet room. he looks over again, brows pulling together, lips parting slightly.
âare you sure youâre okay?â he asks again, slower this time, but you nod too quickly.
ây-yeah, iââ another press and your answer turns into a breathy gasp, âahhââ
yunhoâs gaze flickers between the two of you. he turns it off, watching as your body relaxes, your shoulders dropping, then turns it on again, and you immediately jolt, squirming against the couch. oh, is that... he is curious now as he keeps pushing button after a button, and every instinct in your body is telling you to move, to stop this, maybe get up and grab that forsaken remote from his hand, only for wooyoung to hold you in place.
âshh, keep it down,â he murmurs near your ear. âwouldnât want to make it obvious.â
âyouââ you whisper, barely getting the word out, he watches the flutter of your eyelids, the minor tremors in your thighs.Â
âshould i stop?â yunho asks, and wooyoung answers before you can.
âhmm⊠i donât think she wants you to.â
âi wanââ your hand flies back to your mouth once the vibrations hit you right at that spot.
âsee? sheâs not saying no.â wooyoung hums and your glare. why does he have to be so mean? give men a little power and watch them ruin beautiful things.
âtell me what you want,â the taller says, thumb hovering over the remote, attentive, but not stepping back. while the shorter is watching you struggle, enjoying every second. to be honest, he's always been a sadist, but when someone else is around, he just becomes absolutely insufferable. he never allowed anything like that, for someone else to interfere, not even permission is given to san.
âprincess, if you donât answer, he might just keep guessing.â and even through the tension and the overwhelming pressure building in your body, you still manage to be difficult.
âor,â you breathe out shakily, glaring up at your boyfriend, âyou could both stop being annoying and figure it out yourselves.â
wooyoung blinks, then lets out a quiet laugh under his breath. âthere she is, the brat in you has been hiding for so long now. i was wondering when it will come back.â
the first few minutes were a low setting here, a pulse there. youâd squirmed, biting your lip, trying to endure it and to show them that you, in fact, can handle it. then the vibration settled at a steady, mid-level grind. itâs enough to keep you perched on thin ice, pleasure coiling tight and hot in your belly but never releasing. youâre panting softly against your own palm, sweat dampening the back of your neck where wooyoungâs breath fans.
âlook at her. sheâs trying so hard to be quiet. she the prettiest angel, right yunho?â
yunho doesnât answer immediately. he just turns the vibration off completely. the sudden absence creates crushing emptiness that feels worse than the stimulation. a whimper of pure loss breaks from your throat as your hips seek the pleasure thatâs gone.
âoh, she doesnât like that,â wooyoung coos, laughing softly. his hand slides down from your waist to splay possessively over your lower stomach, pressing down. âshe wants it back, doesnât she?â
âplease,â you rasp, the word torn from you in a blissful whimper.
âplease, what?â yunho becomes more precise and fully engaged, almost analytical. where did the sweet and kind golden boy disappear to? he stops asking, are you okay? and starts deciding what to do, probably influenced by the devil next to you. âuse your words.â
âplease⊠turn it back on.â you're so cute when you beg, that they just want to ruin you more.
âbut you were getting too excited,â wooyoung chides, his fingers digging in slightly. âwe canât have you finishing without permission. that would be rude.â
yunho nods, as if considering this. he presses the button and it doesnât return to the previous peaceful level. it comes back at the highest setting, followed by a violent, immediate buzz that feels less like pleasure and more like an electrical assault. you cry out, the sound strangled, your body seizing. itâs too much, an overwhelming flood that tips straight into overstimulation in a heartbeat when your vision whites out at the edges.
youâre screaming inside at the sensation, a relentless drilling into your pussy that offers no peace. your muscles are locked, shaking with the effort of containing it. you can feel the shameful slickness that has nothing to do with comfort and everything to do with helpless and brutalized arousal.
âso sensitive,â wooyoung bites your earlobe gently, holding you through, his embrace now less a restraint and more a comfort as you grip his forearm. âone little toy and youâre completely gone.â
yunho lets it run for what feels like an eternity. just when you think you might genuinely shatter into a million pieces under the onslaught, he drops it again. not to nothing, but back to that maddening and low speed. the drop is cruel as you sob. the makeup you spent so much time on is probably ruined, no matter how waterproof it is. slumping back against wooyoung, the low hum he lets feels like a taunt now, a reminder of what you canât have.
âi think sheâs learned her lesson,â he says, but his tone suggests the lesson is far from over. yunho walks over to the couch and crouches in front of you, the remote still in hand. he reaches out with his other hand, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they brush a tear from your cheek, you didnât even know had fallen.
âyouâre doing so well,â he says, his gaze holding yours, and you canât even recognize him. âbut you donât get to come unless we say so, you understand?â
he doesnât wait for an answer. he turns the remote over, shows you the tiny led light indicating itâs active, and the persistent, low-grade vibration continues. wooyoung kisses your cheek to keep you there with him, at least physically, as yunho rises, his shadow falling over you both.
you donât know how long you have been denied an orgasm; you couldn't, there was no way, and you weren't allowed. those were their rules. it feels like you have been sitting on this couch forever without a second's rest. overwhelmed by the sensation coursing through your body, moaning softly, then whining as you trembled with need, turning to yunho with wide and pleading eyes, who is just observing you coldly like a predator.
âalmost there, hm?â he whispers, his deep voice sending shivers and goosebumps on your half-naked body. considering the outfit you chose to wear, the cool air hits you like a tornado. the tension in the room thickens as you feel the pleasure and the denial, the toy pulsing against your every response to the pleas of your body. you are desperate, but the thrill of the chase is what they both seem to enjoy and bond over.
âtoo much? not enough? what is it, baby?â wooyoung mocks you with a playful question. you feel trapped between them, one holding you in place, the other controlling something you canât. their voices overlap, layering over each other in a constant push and pull of teasing and coaxing, a taunting rhythm that makes it harder to think straight, let alone speak.
yunho, in all his life, never thought heâd enjoy something like this so much. youâre wooyoungâs â everyone wants you, but you only ever want one man. even so, a selfish thought slips in: he wishes he could take wooyoungâs place, be the one making you react like this and pushing your buttons, pulling you apart piece by piece.
lost in that thought, he doesnât even realize how far heâs taken it, but the setting has shifted, turned it up to its limit. wooyoungâs sharp voice cuts through first, worried now, snapping him back. he blinks, startled, heart catching as he registers wooyoungâs tone over the sound of your broken breaths and desperate little sounds.
âyunho, turn it the fuck off, you psychopath.â
without hesitation, his thumb moves, dialing it down to something gentler.Â
wooyoung is already there, hand threading into your hair, slowly soothing you, fingers combing through as his other hand brushes your cheek, soft despite the smirk still playing on his lips, enjoying this just as much as heâs pretending not to.
âitâs okay, breathe.â youâre still shaking slightly, but wooyoung glances at yunho with narrowed eyes, ones that could easily stop whatever is happening. âsee what you did?â
âi didnât think it would go that far,â yunho exhales, running a hand through his hair, and your man just laughs under his breath.
âsure you didnât.â then, softer when he turns to speak to you, fingers continue to soothe through your locks, âiâm sorry, angel. but you see⊠even he canât resist making a mess out of you.â
despite the toy being set on a lower intensity, you still feel it building, wooyoung does too with the way your legs press tighter together and your back arches slightly. he lets you, easing his hand out of your hair before sliding it beneath your skirt again, pressing the toy a little firmer, shifting it all around to give you what youâve earned. with his other hand, he signals yunho with two fingers, silent but clear: give me the remote back. enough is enough, he wants you back with him now.Â
âcome on, baby. yeah⊠feels good now, no?â his voice softening into something almost sweet as your eyes fall shut. your breathing is uneven, but steadier now than it was minutes ago. yunho can only watch, while wooyoung handles you with care.
and then the sweet release crashes through you all at once. finally, after being denied for so long, your body trembles, a soft whimper escaping as overstimulation follows right after. you feel the slick warmth between your thighs and you donât even care about making a mess on the couch. all you can think about is breathing again, your body going slack as you lean into wooyoung without thinking.Â
thatâs when the doorbell rings, snapping all three of you back to reality. for a second, yunho just stands there, the remote still in his hand, and your uneven breathing still echoing in his ears. this is not new â at least, not for you and wooyoung. things like this, blurred lines between private and almost public, have existed long before yunho ever got pulled into it. the rest of the group has no idea, and theyâre not meant to; itâs not anyone elseâs business.
even if wooyoung carries that careless, sharing is caring kind of attitude, it only goes so far. perfumes and scents, those things heâll scoff at, roll his eyes over, let slide without much thought. you, though? youâre not something he shares lightly. and yunho can understand it now, because he just stepped into territory that was never his to begin with.
âtake her to the bathroom,â he says, clearing his throat as he hands the remote back by turning it off, nodding toward the hallway. âiâll handle it.â
wooyoung nods once, already shifting his focus entirely to you, guiding you up with a hand at your waist as yunho heads toward the door. and just like that, the scene resets. the rest of the guys arrive, the apartment is filled with laughs and loud music, everything looks normal again. but at some point, someone notices the couch.Â
âuh⊠why is there a stain?â
wooyoung doesnât even hesitate to answer, you in his lap. âsorry, i spilled some juice. donât worry, itâll dry.â yeah, juice⊠your juice.
the party starts all drinking and having fun to celebrate their friend. however, yunho isnât thinking about the guests or about his achievement in the virtual and social world⊠he thinks of how much he can achieve by making you cum on his cock instead of the cushions earlier without the usage of some stupid toy. of course, only if wooyoung lets him⊠tho doubts he would mind, you are not officially together after all.
so, hello this is my shortest smut fic yet, and i just wanted to experiment with the formatting and the storytelling ! please, keep in mind that this was my first time writing anything focused on the usage of toys and i know it may be bad and not perfect, since i'm not familiar with this type of nsfw content, but i hope you enjoyed <33
Warnings: established relationship, non idol au, MDNI 18+, no use of y/n, soft mingi (hes whipped for his wife), terms of endearment (baby, darling, princess), sub mingi, begging, pain play (slapping & scratching), orgasm denial, light degradation, mommy kink (i will not apologize), deepthroating, choking/gagging (on dick, light breath play, SO minimal), p in v, unprotected sex (sock that wang before you bang), praise, crying/overstim. Lemme know if i missed anything!Â
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Authors note: hello my sweets! This is my first fic on tumblr after a long writing hiatus so please be tender with me! Always open to feedback ect. ect. Ect. This came to me in a dream and i had to put it into the world. Please enjoy!Â
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The door clicks shut behind you and your shoulders slump. Another day finished at your new job. While grateful you were exhausted, hoping for a relaxing night with your husband. The smell of dinner cooking made your heart swell as you slipped your shoes off.
As quietly as you could, you padded to the kitchen hoping to catch him before he realized you were home. Mingi stood by the stove, stirring a pot as the rice cooker chimed indicating it had finished.Â
âHello darling.â you cooed, emerging from the hall.
Mingi turned, face lighting up as he began to cross the kitchen. He slid his arms around your waist, arching down to bury his head in your neck.Â
âWelcome home baby. Are you hungry? I missed you.â He inhales your scent on the final word, sending a shiver down your spine.
âStarved,â you reply, sliding your palms up his neck to cradle his cheeks. You place a kiss on his nose before he gives you a squeeze you reward with a proper kiss.
The next few moments feel like home. Moving around each other in the kitchen, silently taking your roles in setting the table and dishing up food.Â
Mingi can tell something is off but doesn't want to pry just yet. Instead he asks you about your day, discusses upcoming dinner plans with Yunho and his wife, compares calendars to get a weekend getaway to Jeju scheduled.Â
Everything was perfect, he was perfect. And yet, you felt so out of control. Mingi knew it.Â
âPrincess,â he whispers. Pulling you out of a daze you hadnât realized you slipped into. âShould we talk about it now or would you like to wash up first?âÂ
With a sigh you smiled shyly at him, âI think now, now would be good.â So he sat down his cup, placed his hands in his lap and nodded. Giving you his full attention.Â
The dam broke before you even realized you had been holding it back. Explaining everything that had been going on at work. How your boss was wonderful but putting too much on your plate while you were still finding your footing in your new role. Feeling alone at the company as you seldom found time to leave your office to keep deadlines. How your shoes rubbed you raw all day and your creamer had run out before you realized it.Â
The more you went on the sillier you felt but he listened. He didnât make you feel like you were a tempest in a teapot. He let you finish, only moving to kneel beside you and wipe your tears.Â
He rubbed the back of your hand as he looked up at you, âHow long have you been holding that all to yourself princess?â
You just shook your head and he understood. Pulling you with him as he rose, he placed a kiss on your head.
âGo wash up. Iâll take care of the dishes and when youâre done we can decide what to do next.â You nodded up at him before rising to your toes to kiss him.Â
Making your way to the bathroom you turned the nob, letting the room fill with steam. The water was warm, helping to wash the day away. You lost yourself in thought, being pulled from your mind as the shower door clicked open. Mingi slid in, taking his place behind you. Engulfing you in a hug as he stood there grounding you. You finished your shower in silence, washing each other, feeling the tension begin to rise.Â
You turned off the water and he wrapped you in a towel, lifting you over the lip of the shower. âThank you darlingâ you giggled, placing a kiss on his jaw before exiting to your bedroom.Â
You sat on the bed in one of Mingiâs t-shirts and panties, running a brush through your hair as he entered. Black sweats hung low on his hips, water still dripping down his neck. His eyes were dark as he crossed the room, stopping in front of you and kneeling at your feet.Â
Slowly, he ran his palm up your calf. Turning it over to lift your foot to his shoulder. He stuck out his bottom lip and gazed deeply into your eyes telling you everything you needed to know.Â
You took his jaw in your fingers, leaning forward and sliding your ankle off his shoulder. The heat between you became palpable as the control shifted, âDo you want to be good for me baby?â He whined in return, placing his palms flat on thighs. âUse your words princess.â
âYe- yes mommy. I want to be good for you.â He choked out, the flush running from chest up his neck.Â
You smile down at him, âGood. On the bed for me darling, sit against the headboard.âÂ
He nodded, rising to his feet and stumbling as he got on the bed. You turned with him, eyes never leaving his figure. He settled just as you asked, looking like he was already floating. His legs are spread and his palms placed back where they belong.Â
âWhat is your safeword?â
It takes him a moment to register what you said, âLemon, and the color system.âÂ
âGood, place your hands behind your back or under you. Whichever is most comfortable.âÂ
He's moving before you've finished, opting for under his ass. The wiser choice knowing he gets handsy the hornier he gets.Â
Then you get up from the bed and turn away from him. Slowly walking to the dresser, removing the shirt youâre wearing to fold and place back inside the drawer. Leaving you in nothing but your pink lace panties.Â
Heâs watching your every move. Tracking you like his prey, turning his head as you round the foot of the bed back to him.Â
âEyes forward.â And his head snapt to the end of the room. You can see his breathing pick up slightly, you havenât even touched him.Â
You crawl onto the bed, straddling one of his thighs and resting your hands on his shoulders. He doesnât turn his head to look at you, hoping to be rewarded. You can feel his heartrate pick up under your palms.Â
You run one of your hands up his neck, stopping when your thumb cradles his ear. The other sliding down his chest for your thumb to gently graze his nipple. Sending a jolt though his body, you felt the muscle of his thigh firm and you rolled forward.Â
He whimpered, keeping his focus on the foot of the bed.Â
âSo responsive my darling.â you dropped your tone, leaning into his chest, âBeing such a good boy for me. Do it again wont you, make mommy feel good.â You began to circle his nipple more consistently now. His breath caught and he let out small moans, refusing to hold back the way his legs twitched.Â
âThats it,â you rolled your hips forward, dropping your head to his neck and beginning to place open mouth kisses along his flushed skin, âFuck, Mingi. You feel so good. Doing so good darling.âÂ
He moaned loud into your ear, refusing to hold back anymore. âThat's it baby, let me hear you. Iâve barely even touched you and you're already a moaning messâ You leaned forward, pressing your knee rested between his legs firmly against his growing erection. âHard for me already, probably leaking into your sweats. You think there will be a wet spot already?â
âHng- yes mommy. So hard for you, make me fe-el so good.â he was moving more now, out of restlessness or desire to please you werenât sure.Â
âLook at me,â and he did. Pupils blown, nostrils flaring through his already labored breathing.Â
âYouâre mommy's good boy aren't you. So pliant, so easy. I havenât even touched your cock and you're so vocal. How long have you needed this darling?âÂ
âBeen- been thinking about you all day. How soft you are, your smell. Waiting, waiting for you to come home.â You palmed him through his pants while he spoke. Enjoying how he struggled to get the words out.Â
Your stomach tighter at his honesty, knowing how much he craved you.Â
âSo patient for me. Should I reward you for your patience baby? Think you deserve it?â He nodded feverishly.Â
Your palm connected with his cheek, hard. âTsk, you know better. Use your words darling.âÂ
âPlease mommy, please. Want- need to feel you. Please, I didnât touch myself all day.â He pled, eyes getting glossy.Â
AÂ familiar warmth flooded your body. Mingi has always been a vocal lover boy but when he was in your control his true soft side always came out.Â
You began kissing down his neck from the shell of his ear as your hands slid down his body. Stopping at the hem of his sweats, giving his hips a squeeze to encourage a lift. He did and you slid them down his thighs, no boxers. His cock sprang free against his stomach, thick and angry, already soaked in precum.Â
You sat back on your heels to take him in. Already drunk on you, skin glisteningÂ
âSlide down a bit for me darling. You can let your hands rest at your sides.â And he does, knowing what's to come if he continues to listen.Â
Slinking back up his body you kissed him, straddling both his thighs. Your clothed cunt brushing against his neglected cock, soliciting a deep moan. You kissed him harder now, picking up one of his hands and placing it on your hip. He placed the other to match and began rubbing up and down your sides, kneading the flesh that round out your hips. Teeth clashed as you both let out unabashed moans, spurring the other on.Â
You began to move as one, falling into a familiar rhythm. Grinding down against him, enjoying the way he would jump as the lace bit against his flesh.Â
Abruptly you pulled back and set his hands back on the bed. He twitched and whined as you rocked against him.Â
âDonât complain now darling, youâve been so well behaved.â and he nodded back at you. He kept his eyes forward as you rose to your feet, towering over him. Slowly you slid your panties down and discarded them to the floor.
You sat back on your knees, avoiding contact as you leaned back to his lips. Slotting your tongue between his, you sat down on him and he moaned into your mouth. Feeling how wet you were, sliding up and down his length. Giving him some but not all of the pleasure he craved. You felt him strain to hold still, trying not to buck into you.Â
Then he faltered, rolling his hips to meet yours. He heard it before he felt it. You had slapped him, harder than before.
âDonât fucking chase.â your hand was on his throat now, just enough pressure for him to feel you, âYou will take what I give you and nothing more. Sit still.âÂ
âYes. I understand. I'm sorry.â his fingers curled into his palms as he spoke.Â
You hummed in acknowledgment, sitting back to take him in your hand. He was big, filling your whole fist. You squeezed him at the base and he moaned, folding forward. You didnât release him, pulling your other hand back to slap his inner thigh and he cried out. âBe. Still.âÂ
Nodding his head he sat back against the pillows. Slowly sliding your hand all the way up him, smearing your shared arousal along his length. Your thumb traced his slit as you reached the tip, wiping all his precum over your fingers and the head. You leaned forward once more, eye level with his cock.
âEyes on me, donât cum.â Its all the warning you gave him before placing him on your tongue and taking him all the way to your throat. The familiar stretch made you gush, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.Â
You began to bob your head, taking more of him each time you drew him back in. Every time you looked back up to him his eyes were still on you, just as you instructed. Then you took him all the way down, gagging as your nose came in contact with his pubic bone. He moaned loudly and twitched against the back of your throat. You swallowed around him as many times as you could before coming back up.Â
âYou taste so good princessâ He moaned again as you bobbed on his tip faster, taking him all the way into your throat without warning or any sense of rhythm. You could feel his abs tightening under your hand as you rubbed his belly, wanting to feel as much of him as you could. Takinghim all the way to the back of your throat once again you slid your hand up to his chest. Taking the muscle into your hand, kneading it before pinching his nipple harshly.Â
âFuck! Gonna cu- please. Gonna cum mommy.â you pulled all the way off enjoying the way his face scrunched and he groaned as his cock slapped against his lower belly.Â
âOh no. Did, did you want to cum? Too bad, Iâm having far too much fun playing with you. Do you think you can hold it together enough for me to ride you?â You raked your nails down his thighs while you asked.
He nodded and you leaned forward once more. Grabbing his face in your hand you watch the fire behind his eyes glow in anticipation.
âUse your words. Do you think you can handle it?âÂ
His adamsapple bobbed as he swallowed, holding your eye contact. âYes, I can take it. Please let me feel you.â
You sat back, making contact with him. The head of his cock rubbing against your clit while you sat there, gently rocking.
âIâm not convinced you really want it, maybe I should just go take care of myself in the bathroom.â You began to sit up.
âNo!â He cried out, âplease mommy, please. I need to feel you. Miss how tight you are. Please, please Iâve been good- Iâll be good.â You ran your hand up his thigh, rubbing the slightly raised skin.Â
You sat all the way up on your knees, taking him into your hand. Rubbing all of your arousal that has pooled in your folds along him his tip connecting with your clit. Not caring much about his pleasure. Finally you put him in, rolling your hips just a bit.Â
âThankyou thankyou. Fuuuck, thank you baby.â He was doing everything he could to not move or touch you. Opting to dig his nails into his own thigh so as to not disobey your directions.
Without any warning you slid down to the hilt, taking everything he had to give you. You shared a loud moan, enjoying the sting and the stretch that catches you by surprise every time. You felt him twitching inside you, his body begging you to move. In the end his body won, betraying the hold he tried to have over it and bucked up into you.
You slapped him again, pulling a cry from him while you saw the tears run down his cheek.
âColor?â You asked, soothing the mark.
âGreen.â His tone was sure and level.Â
So you struck him again and began to bounce, setting a ruthless pace. Giving little to no care to his own pleasure chasing your own release as he rubbed your g-spot.Â
âTouch me.â and he did, sliding his hands up your thighs and over your belly. Cascading up your curves around to your shoulder, pulling himself up to your level. Your tongue was on his throat now, licking and nipping at his skin. His hands slid down to your ass, kneading the flesh and relishing in the way it moved with every bounce.Â
You took him all the way in again, sinking your teeth into his unsuspecting collar bone as he connected with your cervix. He was twitching uncontrollably now, doing everything he could not to cum.Â
âYouâre close aren't you. I can feel it in the way you're holding me, like I can ground you enough to hold on.â You started to move again, agonizingly slow. âYou want to cum baby?â You caress his cheek, meeting his eyes.
He nods, eyes heavy and bloodshot.
You kiss him gently before slamming down onto him again, setting a brutal pace. Your hand connects with his cheek, again, and again.Â
âDo it, cum.â And he does, loudly and shaking. He bucks up into you, milking himself with every stroke. Groaning and crying through it all before he finally falls back releasing you.Â
You donât move while he comes down, sliding off his softened cock once his breathing steadies. You stay connected to him, running a hand down his leg before you sip off to the bathroom.Â
You return with a warm wash rag, wiping it up and down his thighs before producing a cool one for his face. He leans into your touch as you wipe the sweat from his forehead and the tears fom his cheeks.Â
âHow are you doing darling, what do you need? Did so good for me baby, took everything I gave you. Was it too much, does it hurt anywhere?â You scan his face looking for discomfort as you run your hands down his body.Â
âOh my perfect wife.â he pulls you into his body, breathing you in deeply. âYou were perfect, not too much. I like this side of you, we haven't played like this in a while.â and you nuzzle into him. His heart beat runs before settling down again as you feel him wrap his arms around you, holding you close.Â
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Do not steal, plagiarize, translate or feed to ai. This is a work of fiction and does not reflect the individuals mentioned in the slightest.
âȘŒ quarterback!mingi x fem!reader | PART TWO [FINAL] 14.2k
âȘŒ this is the second half of my very huge and massive installment for @sungbeam âs live alive collab âË⥠thank you beamie duckie for putting this together! genuinely so happy and grateful to be in a collab beside so many other talented writers, i've met so many wonderful mooties & friends through this whole process, and im so glad to be beside them in such a banger ass collab!!! be sure to check out everyone else's bangers fr
âȘŒ smut minors dni 18+ | p in v, fingering, dirty talk, you and mingi are both sluts, wooyoung lore, LOTS of cursing, insults, toxic til it's not. i don't want to spoil too much but they're in college so they drink and do college kid shit. if you made it this far thank you so, so much for reading, sorry i had to split it lol, this fic is genuinely my baby and everything i could ever want in my life. i hope you enjoy xoxo
When was the last time you cried? Like seriously, actually bent over and cried real tears into your palms? When was the last time it was at the hands of a man? Did you even have something to cry over?
It was too confusing, you didnât have the energy to pick it apart while heaved sobs rip from your throat. Was this a release? Too much emotion built up inside, with nowhere to go? The tears began after picking an argument with a still-drunk Yeosang in the car, pointless, yet you still left him to fend for himself while you ran up the steps to your apartment, still fighting to keep the sobs inside.Â
Alone in your living room, sitting hunched over on the couch, face in your palms, you cried.Â
And cried, and cried, and cried.Â
Your phone lights up, sitting face-up on the coffee table, multiple notifications from the square, pink icon thatâs been draining your battery all fucking day. You can only imagine what they say, what vile fucking things are waiting for you, all from real accounts, real people who hate you because of Song Mingi.Â
Maybe itâs masochism, or maybe you need to keep the release flowing, a devil on your shoulder tells you to unlock your phone and read. You make it through three before your shoulders shake all over again, your phone falling to the floor, you have half a mind to smash the screen so you canât look even if you wanted to. Curling up onto the couch, you let yourself cry, you sink into the feeling, into the emotion; if you let your brain wander enough, you can still feel his covered palm on your skin, his lips on yours, you can still see his eyes, how he looked at you. So fond, affectionate, so fucking different from any man who has ever looked at you, ever.
Thereâs a knock at your door, rendering you quiet, sniffing up snot that dared to fall.Â
âHello?â You call out, sounding so unlike yourself you cringe.
Three presses of someoneâs knuckles at your door again, you whimper as you push yourself up off the couch to open it. Hand on the knob, you close your eyes, sucking in a deep, grounding breath. You hope you donât look insane.Â
Just as another knock sounds, you open it. Standing with his fist out, he wears a blank face, one that warps into confusion then concern as he looks you up and down. âAre you okay?â
âWhat the fuck are you doing here, Wooyoung?â
âI came to get my hoodie,â he shakes his head like that was beside the point. âWhatâs wrong? Are you crying?â
âHave you gotten your eyes checked recently?â You sniff again, wiping at your nose with your bare wrist. Itâs clear youâve been crying, are crying, sounding nasally on top of your appearance, you canât be bothered to care. âWhat do you want, for real? I know youâre not here for your fuckass hoodie.â
âI broke up with Winter,â he admits easily, too fucking easily.Â
Thereâs no feeling in your gut, no excitement, no disappointment, thereâs nothing. Your face reflects it, shoulders shrugging, free arm flying to say okay? You feed him an irritated laugh, âCongratulations?â
âI broke up with her because I miss you,â he tries again, âshe isnât you.â
His hair is messy, undone. Clothes dark, hanging off him, like he rolled out of bed to come here. You study his face, his mismatched eyes, the dot of espresso that sits on the apple of his cheek. Thereâs nothing unclear about the way heâs looking at youâ thereâs the hinge in his jaw, his dilated pupils, his slouched shoulders, deflated. Like he didnât want to admit it, but here he is.Â
âNo shit,â you sniff again. âWhat was the plan? You come here, confess your bullshit to me, I take you back, and we live happily ever after?â
âIâm not going to give you a bullshit speech,â his gaze averts to the floor, âI know you have a boyfriend. I just wanted you to know, I needed to get it off my chest.â
You laugh again, and itâs accompanied by disbelief and shock, but what rings truest is understanding. You lean into your door, still wide open, âYou donât have to lie. She found out, didnât she?â
He glances up, âYouâre the only one who gets it.â
âIâm the only one who put up with it,â you correct him, âthose days are over.â
âWhy are you crying?â He asks, straightening again. âWhat happened?â
âNothing you give a fuck about.â
He takes a step forward, hands reaching out, but he doesnât touch you. âI care about everything that involves you. What happened?â
You hold his stare, your jaw locking. Familiarity, routine. Pattern.Â
âIf I asked you,â your voice comes out shaky, you clear your throat, âto fuck me, would you do it?â
âYou have a boyfriendââ
âWould you fucking do it?â
His hand wraps around your jaw, searing your skin, lips smashing onto yours like he was fucking waiting for it. Itâs blinding, dizzying how he pushes you backward, kicking the door shut behind him, lips rough and tongue taking, your mind shuts off in a secondâs time. Muscle memory kicks in, Mingiâs jersey on the floor, mini skirt hiked up to your waist, panties pushed to the side, this is it. This is everything.
This is all youâll ever get, and youâve made peace with it.
âAre you coming tomorrow?âÂ
Inside, at the very edge of the tunnel, tucked off to the side to avoid lingering eyes, Mingiâs vibrating with excitement, he canât believe Winter is here and wearing his fucking jersey. He was already excited because they won their game; even if he knew theyâd win and it was no surprise to him, Mingi played such a perfect game he was high off adrenaline, off arrogance, like absolutely nothing could go wrong.Â
âOf course,â her back is against the wall, her head tucked right under Mingiâs outstretched arm. She wears a cute, dainty smile, almost innocent, itâs the cutest thing heâs ever seen. He has to fight his instinct to not tell her about the life heâs imagined for them. âI broke up with Wooyoung, by the way.â
This might be the best day of his fucking life.
âIâm⊠sorry?â He eases a smile, one that turns into a full-fledged grin when he sees how Winter smiles back.
She giggles, âDonât be sorry. That night at the bar, she was right.â Winter bites her lip and Mingi wishes he could bite it for her. âWill she be there?â She asks, âYour girlfriend?â
âHuh?â Mingiâs brows furrow, then he remembers the bar, and then a picture of you in his passenger seat rushes through his mind. âOh. I donât know, I havenât talked to her yet.â
âI saw her in your jersey,â she tilts her head to the side, a manicured nail between her teeth, âunfair, she gets the real one, and Iâm stuck wearing this.â
âNot for long,â it rushes out of his mouth before he can think about it. He chuckles, nervously, âI mean, like, things arenât really that great between us right now.â
âOh, really?â Her brows lift in soft surprise, âShe seemed kinda⊠mad, when she saw me in this. I told her Iâm a huge fan, but she didnât seem to like that answer. Does she get jealous often?â
Mingiâs brows furrow, head cocking to the side. Jealous? Mad?Â
âWhat do you mean?â
She giggles, a hand covering her mouth, âI donât want to paint her in a bad light, or make you guys argue or something.â
âWe wonât,â he pulls his arm back to his side, sounding assured, âtell me.â
âShe asked me why I was wearing your jersey,â she looks down at her shoes, then back up to him, âshe looked really mad, Mingi, like she was seconds away from ripping it off of me or something. I was kinda scared.â
âHuh,â he looks away, he isnât sure where. You were already acting off when you came down to the field, he could feel it, he could see it on you. How you forced a smile on your face, faked laughter, looked like Lucifer had come to pull you back down to Hell before he kissed you.Â
For some reason in his stupid fucking mind, he thought kissing you would make it better. That youâd laugh, call him an asshole, brush it off like it was nothingâ selfishly, he wanted it to make it better, he wanted to be the reason why. He wanted to see your smile, the real one, not that fake shit you were putting on so no one would shoot you a second glance.Â
You looked like he hurt you instead. He supposes itâs time to break up anyways, if the conversation heâs currently having is any indication, thereâs no real reason for you to be together anymore if everything had already worked out. But fear lingered, in the way you looked at him, in how you jumped away from him like he burnt you, it stuck heavy in his mind, scared that you wouldnât be friends after this. Heâs afraid youâll never speak again. Heâs terrified youâre the first real friend heâs ever made.
âIâm okay, though,â she brushes a hand on his chest and he doesnât like how it feels. âShe left me alone after that, thatâs why I waited until she left to come see you.â
âIâm glad youâre okay,â heâs speaking, not thinking. âAnd no, she doesnât do that often, I donât think sheâs feeling well today.â
Should he not have kissed you? Did that make everything worse? Did he cross a line, for real?
âI hope she feels better,â Winter smiles, showing off the pearly white teeth hidden behind her glossy lips, âare you doing anything tonight?â
âYeah, Iâ um,â he looks around again, moving backward so her hand falls from his chest. Are you mad at him? Should he apologize? âThe team is going out to celebrate tonight, Iâm sorry.â
âItâs okay, you deserve the celebration for how well you played. Iâll see you tomorrow.â
âOkay,â itâs mindless, absent.Â
He walks back to the locker room with furrowed brows and tunnel vision. Opening his locker, pulling out his phone, he doesnât even take his jersey off before texting you.Â
mingi: were having a party tomorrow at the house to celebrate
mingi: if u wanted to come
mingi: and im sorry for kissing u
mingi: idk if i shoulda done that
mingi: im sorry
mingi: if u want we can break up tomorrow at the party
mingi: a lot of people will be there
You stare at the pictures Yeosang sent you. Minutes go by, maybe an hour, you arenât sure, but youâve zoomed in on every inch of each picture, and the looming cloud of dread wonât dissipate for shit. You werenât imagining how he looked at you, how he held you, it was eternalized in pixels on your screen.Â
The more you stared, the more you hated it.Â
âWhatâs that?â
You lock your phone, throwing it on the nightstand beside you. âCan you get the fuck out already?âÂ
He smacks his teeth, âWe havenât had a sleepover in so long, why so mean?âÂ
âI donât like you,â you finally turn your head to see him. Eyes low with sleep, dark hair frizzy and sticking out in every which way, shirtless, littered with marks youâve never been allowed to give him before. âI donât want you here.âÂ
âThen whyâd you let me stay?âÂ
âBecause you did me a favor,â you run your hands over your face, rubbing at your swollen eyes, âbut I have to prepare to break up with my boyfriend tonight, so unless youâre helping me come up with a plan, go.âÂ
âJust tell him you cheated,â he shrugs, and when you look at him heâs wearing the nastiest of smirks. âWorked for me.âÂ
âYou didnât even tell me, you fucking asshole,â reaching over, you smack him dead in his chest. âGet out of my apartment.âÂ
He laughs, slowly sitting up, giving you a pretty view of his spine, the tattoo that sits at the top, the muscles in his shoulders. You hum, head tilting as you stare, he really is pretty. You missed the sight. He turns his head halfway, âHave a smoke with me before I go.âÂ
You keep your eyes glued to him for a moment, his eyes peeking over his shoulder, heâs still shamelessly naked in your bed. So many things, Jung Wooyoung is, but most of all a complexity you donât think youâll ever fully understand.Â
You sigh, soft, pleasant, almost. âOkay.âÂ
On the balcony, youâre in Mingiâs jersey you picked up from your living room floor, the first thing you saw when you realized you needed something on your body to go outside. Heâs across from you, boxers on his hips, shirtless, comfortable. Always comfortable with you.Â
He turns around to face you while your lips wrap around his cigarette, a Marlboro Red, he takes a second to watch you. His eyes donât follow the smoke as it leaves your lips, they stay on you, analyzing, thinking.Â
âWhatâs up with you?â He finally asks. âDonât bullshit me.âÂ
Face going unchanged, you respond, âI think I like him for real.âÂ
He stares a second before breaking out in laughter. Hand clutching his stomach, his brows furrow, âSo you slept with me because you like your boyfriend?âÂ
âI slept with you because youâre the opposite of him,â you reach out your arm, two fingers sliding the tobacco into his, âhe freaked me out. He kissedâ kisses me like he cares about me.â
âI donât kiss you like I care about you?âÂ
âYou kiss me like youâre saving the nice shit for her,â you huff, craning your neck, stretching your aching muscles. You really went too long without getting laid.Â
Wooyoungâs brows wiggle, shoulders shrugging as he brings the cigarette up to his lips like he couldnât argue with you even if he tried. âYou donât make sense.âÂ
You sigh, turning to face the balcony, the neighborhood below. So quiet, it was busier closer to campus; here, it was nothing but peace. Warm, not quite humid yet, a clarity in the air you havenât felt in so long, you let the sunshine beat on your skin, the kelly-green polyester covering it.Â
âYou donât need to understand,â you reach out your fingers, he places the cigarette between them. âBeing with him is too much exposure, too many eyes on me. You should see my Instagram DMs.âÂ
âBad?â
âWorse than bad.â Tilting your head, blowing smoke from your lips, you ask, âWanna come with me tonight?âÂ
âTo watch you break his heart?âÂ
âSomething like that.âÂ
âIâm game,â he takes a step toward you, leaning over the balcony, shoulder touching yours. âDid you know Winter has a thing for him?â
âYes,â you laugh a little, âyouâre late to figuring that one out.âÂ
He stayed until the cigarette burnt down to the filter, shoving it in the ashtray you bought and kept on the small table in the corner, solely for him. You stayed on the balcony for what felt like forever after he showed himself outâ sitting with yourself and your thoughts, flooded with Mingi, the inevitable end a part of you had begun to think might not actually come.Â
FIFTH OUTING: THE BREAK UP, FOOTBALL HOUSE. 10:21 PM
Mingi has always been grateful for his height. Itâs helped him tremendously, helping his mother much smaller than him, in football, with women. He remembers being a kid and being giddy about holding the caboose of his classâs line because he was the biggest.Â
He thinks heâs never been more grateful than he is right now, facing Seungmin, looking over his brown head of hair clearly, effortlesslyâ you, in his living room, dancing like you didnât give a fuck. Hair let loose behind you, your top clinging to your body like it was painted on, jeans hugging your swaying hips in a way that made him jealous of black denim.Â
You greeted him like you werenât here to break up with him, a soft hey rolling off your tongue, cheeks already flushed with liquor, shoulders already slouched. Mingi put his beer down on a table littered with empty bottles and hasn't once thought about picking it back up.Â
You told him he looked good, apologized for his jersey smelling like cigarettes, which made him quirk a brow in confusion, but he forgave you in the same breath with a little laugh as you stumbled over your feet.Â
Drunk. Cute.Â
You didnât mention the kiss, didnât mention breaking up, you didnât mention anything that happened in the last twenty-four hours. Mingi wasnât going to remind you, not when youâre blissfully boneless, a smile permanently etched onto your cheeks, there wasnât a line in your face to be seen. No worries, no stress, no anger, unaware like it was purposeful. You seemed like you needed it.Â
âHello? Mingi?âÂ
He blinks into focus, eyes back on Seungmin before him who wore furrowed brows and tilted jaw, staring at him expectantly.Â
âSorry,â he laughs a little, jutting his chin in the direction of you, making Seungmin turn his head. âLook at her.âÂ
âYouâre sick,â Seungmin looks only for a second before turning back to Mingi whose eyes are glazed over, the younger manâs face rendered flat. âObsessed.âÂ
Mingi giggles like heâs proud of it. No denial, no rebuttal, he thinks he might be, just a little, maybe infatuated was the better word. Especially since youâre not mad at him. The nerves heâs felt from last night leading up to when you walked through the door of the football house were full-bodied, eating at every vein below his skin, every organ felt like it wasnât working right.Â
You answered his texts, which should have eased him at least a fraction.Â
princess: i kissed you back did i not
princess: moron
princess: ill be thereÂ
princess: and im breaking up with you btw
He couldnât figure out a response, mostly because a huge part of him wanted to stall breaking up, but he couldnât figure out why. Or he wouldnât let himself, he should say, because the answer was staring at him in the fucking face: he likes you. He knows he does, Yeosangâs show confirmed it, forced it to the front of his mind, a life-altering observationâ heâs so fucked.Â
This is an arrangement. An even exchange, he gets Winter, you get whatever the fuck your plan with Wooyoung is. It dawns on him that heâs never even asked, there are so many things he wants to ask, so many things he wants to say, he doesnât have enough time to say them. You made it clear yesterday that you wanted to break up.Â
âGo get her,â Seungmin huffs, âI know you want to.âÂ
âI donât dance,â Mingi looks at Seungmin like heâs crazy.
âWhy else did you ask Woozi to DJ then?âÂ
âFair.âÂ
Seungmin turns on his heel, toward the kitchen, maybe. Mingi takes one step before he stops in his tracks, eyes blowing wide, body running ice-cold.Â
Like a shadow, he was at your back, hands on your hips, smiling like he was supposed to be there. Like you were allowing it. You clearly were, head tilted backward, smile wide as a laugh he couldnât hear rolled off your lips. God, Mingi canât even say his nameâ heâs a roach, a fucking rat thatâs lingering around Mingi, waiting for the opportunity to give him diseases or something.Â
He finds his feet moving, not aware of himself body slamming people who were minding their own damn business, certainly not aware of the anger that hung in the hinge of his jaw, in his clenched fists. He pulls you by the wrist, your name on his tongue, you barely notice. Hazy eyes finally landing on him, your smile widens, sparkles in your eyes shining brighter, your fingers tighten in the fabric hanging off his shoulders. âMingi!âÂ
He eyes Wooyoung over your head, face flat, unimpressed, pissed off. Wooyoungâs smirk is cynical, as if he knows exactly what heâs doing, whatâs happening. Mingi feels left out and he doesnât fucking like it.Â
âWhere have you been?â Youâre whining, head tilted to the side, lips pouty even if your body sinks into him more than it ever has before. Youâre drunk.Â
Mingi eyes dance over to Riyo and Jia, two of your friends, he thinks those are their names. One red-haired and wide-eyed, body rigid with fear as she meets Mingiâs gaze, the other dark-haired and panicked like she was already searching for a distraction, a way to get you out of this situation.Â
Wooyoung speaks up before Mingi can get a word out, âDid you two break up yet?âÂ
Yet. His jaw clenches. Riyo and Jia turn confused.Â
âWeâre not breaking up,â Mingi responds, âfuck are you talking about?âÂ
âI need another drink,â you turn around, back leaning into his chest, laying your whole weight on him as your arms reach down to his thighs, palms splayed flat over denim for purchase. âCan we go find cutie Kai? Heâll get me one.âÂ
He canât even focus on your hands on him, how mindless you are, heâs so fucking irritated. He ignores you, asking Wooyoung again, âThe fuck are you talking about?âÂ
Wooyoungâs brows raise, smirk growing like he was about to drop a bomb. âInteresting, thatâs what she told me this morning,â he takes a step closer to you, âright, baby?âÂ
âHuh?â You ask, body swaying, Mingi uses two hands on your waist to keep you steady.Â
âYouâre breaking up with Mingi,â Wooyoung repeats, âthatâs why we had sex last night. Right?âÂ
Sorry if your jersey smells like cigarettes.Â
He pushes you forward like you fucking burned him, just enough for you to fall into Wooyoungâs chest instead. Jia and Riyo are side-by-side, watching everything unfold like it was a train wreck they couldnât look away from.Â
âWait,â hands braced on Wooyoungâs chest, you turn around, eyes wide and lips trembling. âHold on a second.âÂ
Wooyoung pulls you into him, arms slithering around your torso like he knows every inch of your body. It makes Mingi sick, or it would if he could feel anything, his bodyâs numb like it didnât belong to him anymore.Â
âYou fucked him?â His voice is pitched like he didnât believe it. âHe cheated on you,â Mingi feels like the three of you are alone, like this isnât a party full of one hundred something people. âTwice.âÂ
âI knowââ
âThen what, you donât give a fuck?â His voice is raised, he doesnât care. âWhat the fuck was the point then, huh? What the fuck was the point if you were just gonna go back to him?âÂ
Wooyoung cocks his head, âThe point of what?âÂ
âShut the fuck up,â Mingi blurts, âIâm not talking to you.âÂ
âMingi,â your jaw drops, âI donâtââ
âYou couldnât wait?â Mingi asks, âCouldnât at least have the decency to break up with me first before running right back to him?â
âIâm sorry!âÂ
The apology off your lips makes him stand straighter. Itâs pleading, like youâre just asking him to be quiet, to stop, but it seems to screw his head back on his body, his consciousness forcing itself back into his six-foot build with vengeance.Â
You call after him as he turns around, walking away as quick as he can, fingers tapping at his sides just to remind himself he has them. This canât be real, heâs gotta be dreaming, thereâs no way in hell that just happened to him.Â
Is he just gonna leave you with Wooyoung? Drunk as you are? Is that why youâre so fucking hammered in the first place? You seemed so comfortable in his hold, Mingi wonders if that was you or the alcohol, he could see it in your eyes, the fear of being caught. The confusion, like you didn't understand why Mingi was so angry.Â
You probably didnât. You probably thought he wouldnât find out, because why would he? You were supposed to break up tonight, be done with each other. A chapter closed. Mingi feels like turning on his heel and pulling you away from him, just to ask you every fucking question heâll never have the chance to.Â
He feels like apologizing.Â
He feels like confessing.Â
But heâs so fucking pissed he bullies into the kitchen instead, eyes on alert, searching for something he canât place, anything that will rid him of this dirty fucking feeling.Â
Itâs full circle, he thinks, as his eyes land on Winter. Sitting on the counter, two guys in front of her, clearly chatting her up.Â
Nah.Â
Forcing a smile when he gets close enough, his voice carries a warning to the two unnamed, no-faced men. âHey, beautiful.â They scatter.Â
âShould you be calling me that?â She teases, hands gripping the edge of the counter, leaned forward, feet kicking where they hung. Hair pulled up, tiny top, little shorts, she looked bare-faced, natural. Pretty. Good enough.Â
âI canât be honest?â A cocky smirk, a character he hates playing. Approaching her pinned knees, they open, letting him step between them, he takes the silent offer.Â
âYou can be honest,â she nods, batting her lashes. âBut I would rather you be mine.â
He has to force the twinge of disgust out of the back of his throat, tasting like coke-drip and disappointment. He didn't feel this way talking to her last night, Mingi blinks at her before a slow chuckle rolls off his lips. âSmooth.â
âVodka makes me bold,â she shrugs, winking. âProblem?â
This could work. He could make this work. He has to make this work, actually. âIâm supposed to be the bold one,â he hums, palms landing on her bare knees, so soft beneath his burning skin. Her eyes drop to where their skin meets, but she makes no move to stop him.Â
âI didnât think you were available enough to be,â her eyes flicker upward, âdo you have good news for me?âÂ
He nods, âYou wonât believe it, actually.âÂ
Her brows furrow, smile faltering a little. âWhat?âÂ
âDonât worry about it, nevermind,â Mingi shakes his head, âwe donât have to talk about her, we can talk about us now, finally.âÂ
They talked. And talked, and talked and fucking talked, Mingi heard every other word, something about her classes and school-air fucking up her makeup. Something about Wooyoung, he thinks, he tuned out after he heard that godforsaken name. Mingi didnât really care, he wanted to kiss her, to fuck her, he hoped youâd find out and feel as shitty as he did right now.Â
The tips of Winterâs sandals toyed with his pants, his hands planted on the counter, on either side of her thighs. He was so close to scoring he could taste it, this was the right outcome, the whole purpose. This is what he should have been focused on the entire time.Â
âBro,â Jaemin snaps him into focus, a pest at his side, a hand on his shoulder. âYour girlfriendâs on a table.âÂ
âNot my girlfriend,â Mingi shoves his hand off, but then the words sink in. He cranes his neck, âA table?âÂ
âSheâs dancing on a fucking table,â Jaemin confirms, laughing like itâs funny. Like you arenât piss-drunk and surrounded by people who donât care about you.Â
Mingi doesnât even look at Winter again before heâs moving. Rushing past bodies, physically moving them out of his way as he follows the sound of cheering into the dining room, he can see you over everyoneâs heads. No, this is full-circle, he thinks for just a moment at the entryway, here you are, in his dining room where the plotting truly began, where Mingi first lost his mind over the girl he could give two fucks about right now.Â
Dancing, swaying your hips to whatever song is playing, something pop with heavy bass from the early two-thousands, itâs deaf on his ears. Arms above your head, smile absent, eyes absent, you arenât even in your fucking body and everyone surrounding you is cheering you on. Mingiâs sick and he can feel every tapered edge of it.Â
Bodies are glued together, phones out, he smacks two out of the air as he forces his way past. He spots Jongho and Yeosang, the only two trying to get you down, arms reaching out in caution, faces stressed beyond what they should be at a party.Â
Mingi meets the edge of the table and he catches Wooyoung out of the corner of his eye, standing up against the wall, watching, smirking. Like he was loving every second of this. Like you wouldnât want to rip your fucking hair out when you wake up tomorrow. Somehow it pisses him off worse that heâs watching you like this was reality TV, as if youâre not a real person, someone he slept with last night. He shivers. Rage runs deep.
âMingi!â Jongho yells across the table, âThank god youâre here, please get her down.âÂ
Bare feetâ where the fuck did your shoes go? Hair stuck to you, shirt splotched with wetness, probably liquor, maybe worse. Thereâs bottles on the table, grinders open and full of weed, puddles of water, beer, solo cups from a game of pong. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat, panic, like he was responsible for you, for this.Â
âGet down,â his voice stands out amongst the music, the cheers. Louder, heavy with direction, order. Like heâs on the field.Â
Your head spins in every direction like you werenât sure where the sound came from. Even now, irritated and shocked beyond belief, he softens at the sight of you. âPlease, baby, get down,â his voice is layered with worry as you finally meet his gaze, eyes glossed over, smile lazy and gone. Holy shit.Â
âYouâre mad at me,â you drop down to your knees, pouting, fuck this table big enough to seat half the goddamn team, stopping him from pulling you away from each and every pair of eyes.Â
âNo Iâm not,â he shakes his head, forcing a tight-lipped smile. âIâm not mad at you, I just want you to come to me.âÂ
On all fours, you start crawling across the fucking table, a lazy grin taking over like you didnât have any eyes on you, so unaware that Mingiâs anxious. Head tilting, a split of consciousness entering your vision, you ask, âYou want me?â
He swallows, nodding, a palm reaching out for you, âYeah, I do.âÂ
Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a shadow of black leaving the room. He doesnât look, keeping his eyes on you, each agonizing second of your arms and knees pushing you forward, not a semblance of haste to your movements.Â
You reach out your arm when heâs close enough to grab your hand and he pulls you the rest of the way, hearing the slick sound of black denim sliding against shiny oak, he isnât fucking thinking as he bends at his knees and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp, body deadweight over his back before your legs bend up in front of him, bare feet covered in a layer of grime, wet and sprinkled with god knows what. He sighs.Â
âPut me down!â You yell, your tiny hands flat against his back, pushing yourself up.Â
He turns, one arm holding your legs down, hauling you out of that room faster than heâs ever sprinted down a field. He spots Kai across the living room, a head of blonde hair standing tall over the crowd, the only face easy to spot at his full height.Â
âHuening!â He shouts. Kaiâs brows furrow when he sees him, bending into bewilderment when he sees you over his shoulder. âGet me my keys.â
âYou drink?â
âGet me my keys, Kai.â
He feels you smacking his back, yelling something unintelligible as he hauls you through the living room, through the front door, the air outside no fucking relief to the sweat forming at the base of his spine. Down the lawn, to his car thatâs parked at the edge of the street, he puts you down on the hood with a muddled grunt from the back of his throat.Â
You lay back as soon as your ass meets steel. Eyes closed, head turned to the side, your arms straight out on either side of you, you heave a breath and mumble, âIâm sâfucking drunk.â
Mingi didnât realize he was out of breath until he leaned into the side of the car, elbows resting on the roof plate. He laughs, a small one, full of disbelief and utter shock. âNo shit.â
âYou called me baby again,â your eyes peek open to point at him with a weak, bent arm, âyou were nervous.â
Mingi feels seen. He squints, âYou were gonna fall off the table, I had to get you down, of course I was nervous.â
âYou like me,â you sing, arm falling back down to the steel with a smack, dopey grin on your cheeks. âYou like me for realsies.â
Mingi snorts, pulling his arms off the roof of his car to step to the side, palms landing on the hood to lean forward. Your hand sways through thick air before your fingers wrap loosely around his wrist, âI like you too, even though youâre kind of rude.â
He wills his heartbeat calm. âYou think Iâm rude?â
âYouâre so rude,â the words slur together, his lips tighten at the sound. You open your eyes again, âWanna fuck on the car?âÂ
Mingi cracks a laugh, a belly laugh he couldnât hold back, âWhat the fuck?â
You laugh with him, loud and obnoxious, the arch of your back lifting off the car, head turning to the opposite side before it snaps back to look at him. âJust a question,â you sing again, âjusâwonderinâ.â
âCan I ask you a question?â He waits for your slurred mhm. âDid you really fuck Wooyoung?â
You suddenly frown, âYeah, he caught me at a real vulnerable time. Do yâknow what vulnerable means?â
He shakes his head, âYes.â
âMeans exposed. He caught me crying âcus you kissed me and you were nice and your Instagram army was calling me crazy shit.â Your eyes open all the way, âTheyâre wild on there, did you know that?â
âPeople are messaging you about me?â
You choke on a laugh, âSo many people.âÂ
âLet me seeââ
You scoff, âFuck no.â
âSong!âÂ
He hears Kai shout from the tip of the lawn, Mingi turns and Kai throws his keys across the green, landing perfectly in Mingiâs palm like he aimed for it. âThanks,â he yells back up, and Kai nods once before turning back inside.Â
âCan you get up on your own or am I putting you in the car?â He receives nothing but a groan in response, a turn of your head in the opposite direction. He sighs. âCome on, you canât even sit up?â
You turn your head back to him, âWhyâd you kiss me?âÂ
âBecause I wanted to,â he says it like itâs obvious.Â
âTheyâre gonna kill me for it,â you grumble, âtheyâre gonna kill me and it will be your fault.â
âNo oneâs killing youââ
âDid you like it?â Youâre blinking at him, knees opening and closing like you needed to move to remind yourself youâre conscious, "Kissing me?â
âIâll tell you tomorrow when youâre soââ
âTell me now.â
Mingi sighs, taking his eyes off you to look at the trees across from the football house. Tall, shadows filling space between them, calm. The music inside is muffled, bass still vibrating the ground beneath his feet. The confession sits heavy on his tongue. Fuck it.Â
âYeah I did,â he says it in one breath before he looks down at you again. Your brows are upturned, a pout on your lips, watching him until you hear what he says, then you smile.Â
âYay,â the word is light, cute. Then you look as if reality snapped back into you, âDamn, I probably shouldnât have fucked him, huh?â
Mingi snorts as he walks around the front of his car, grabbing you by your wrists one after another, pulling you upward. âNo,â he says, shaking his head, but his smile stays, âyou shouldnât have.â
âIâm sorry,â you mutter, then bring your hand up to your forehead, groaning. âFuck, âm dizzy.â
âIâm taking you home.â He scoops you off his hood, an arm curled under your knees and another holding your back until heâs got you next to the passenger door, letting your feet touch the grass beside the curb. Opening the door, one hand still on your waist, he says, âGet in.â
Your body is a mess of tucked angles as you quite literally fall into his passenger seat, Mingi has to fasten your seatbelt for you when he finally gets in the driverâs seat. You smell like liquor, cigarettes, sweatâ he rolls the windows down and you stick your head out like a dog.Â
Twenty minutes to your apartment, no music, just Mingi and his thoughts. He thinks about her, his first girlfriend after he started becoming known, how the long-term relationship ended so soon after going public. Comments, DMs on every platform, it didnât matter what revisions she made to her social media, the words still made it to her eyes, her ears. Nasty, disgusting, vile words and not one of them was true, Mingi hasnât spoken to her since they broke up. She hates him, down to his core because of something he had no control over. Itâs what put his wall up in the first place, made of brick, of steel, a wall so thick it didnât let any emotion in, only desire.Â
He canât imagine whatâs sitting in your phone. Terror lives in his grip on the steering wheel, white-knuckled, bottom lip tight between his teeth, brows furrowed in thought, in remorse. He didnât think youâd be affected by his status since your relationship was fake, an oversight, one he regrets already.Â
âYou awake?â He parks just outside of your apartment, but your head doesnât move off the window frame.Â
âNo.â
He reaches over, unbuckling your seatbelt, âCome on, drunkie.â
You moan something belligerent, picking your head up slowly, the seatbelt going over your head, stuck around your arm. Mingi canât help but laugh as he rolls the window up, turning off the car, he expects to have to haul your ass inside. You let him, deadweight in his hold, your bare feet crossing over one another with each step, all the way up to the second floor. Thank god your building has an elevator.
âKey?â He asks. You point to the mat on the floor, eyes half open. He flattens his lips. âYeah, weâre gonna have to change that.âÂ
You stand on your own long enough for him to get the door open, and heâs on alert this time, taking in his surroundings. The last time he was here he didnât walk past the threshold, but now that heâs in, he can smell you everywhere. A large mirror next to the TV surrounded by plants, a tall lamp in the corner, a cozy couch set cream-colored. A coffee table filled with books, an unlit candle and his jersey thrown over it, your apartment screamed comfort, peaceful.Â
His eyes squint at the Lego sets under your TV. An open shelved media console, a polaroid camera, a record player with flowers, a starry night painting, all Legos, itâs all he could pick out until you start moaning and groaning again.
âUh-uh,â he grabs you by the wrist when you start making for the couch, âyour ass is taking a shower. Where is it?â
You gasp, staring down at your feet, wrist limp in his palm. Your toes wiggle as you ask, âWhere are my shoes?â You look back up at him wide-eyed, âI had shoes on, didnât I?â
âIâll find them at the house tomorrow,â he pulls you closer by the wrist, âcome on, drunkie. Shower time.â
âI donât like that nickname,â your top lip lifts, âyou have better ones. Why are you here?â
âTo get you into bed,â he starts leading you toward the entryway to his right, a small walkway he can only pray holds a bathroom at the end. âYou smell like a brewery.â
You smile, following behind him like this was his apartment and not yours. Thereâs movie posters, framed paintings, decor on your walls he stores for later as more questions come to mind. He notes how clean and sophisticated you decorated, minus the closet door left open with clothes strewn about like you tore it apart before going out tonight. The bathroom tucked in the back corner is worse, makeup scattered across the vanity, pairs of shorts and underwear littered the white tile, you didnât seem to mind as you walked in right behind him.
âDo I have to?â You sit on the closed toilet, back bending over the tank, head hitting the wall with a thump.Â
He opens the shower curtain, turning it on, heating it up instead of answering. You giggle, more of a single sound of amusement, legs spread out in front of you, body molded to the shape of the toilet.
âFine,â your grumble is somehow still amused, and Mingi swears it takes five whole minutes for you to stand up, toying with your skinny studded belt as your feet stumble over tile, fingers missing the prongs like you couldnât get a grip.
He sighs again, sitting down on the toilet instead, âCâmere.â
Your hands find his shoulders for purchase, standing between his legs, body still swaying. He steadies you with two hands on your thighs and you lean into him, his touch, voice filled with pleased confusion, âYouâre being nice to me.â
âI want to be nice to you,â he glances up at you, face flushed, eyes low, hair a mess. So vulnerable, a new word in his dictionary, to see you like this, for you to act this way in front of him. He wonders how much of it has to do with the messages in your phone.Â
âNice is scary,â you whisper as he starts undoing your belt, pushing the prongs out of leather, your grip stays tight on his shoulders. âYou scared me when you kissed me.â
âI didnât want to scare you,â he pulls leather through the loops of denim, throwing it on the floor. âButton?â
You nod, body swaying again, he holds you upright with his fingers tucked in the hem of your jeans. âNo one has ever kissed me like that before,â youâre still whispering like youâre telling him a secret. He looks up after getting your zipper down, seeing your glassy eyes, your dilated pupils. Pretty.Â
âI think thatâs how you should be kissed,â the answer comes quickly, easily. Honest.Â
Your hands find the hem of your top, pulling it over your head, throwing it to the floor beside you. He fights to keep his eyes on yours. Your forearms sit on his shoulders this time, finding them like magnets as you flip your hair over your shoulder, out of your face. He swallows, breath catching in his throat, âYou should get in the shower, donât waste water.â
âYou didnât like me when you met me.â Itâs not a question, but an observation. A memory.Â
He counters, âYou didnât like me either.â
âYou were an asshole.â
âYouâre sober enough to get in the showerââ
âWhat changed?â You ask, words sounding fragile, like you were scared of the answer.
âEverything,â he smiles halfway, leaning back an inch. The room feels hotter, steam taking up space, the sound of the shower hitting the tub a small hum, his ears ring with the quiet. âMost of all, me, I think.â
Youâre looking at him differently, like youâre trying to figure something out. You reach up to his hair, pushing it out of his face, your touch featherlight, so delicate a shiver shoots through him like a firework. Your fingers glide over his temple, his cheek, you press your palm flat against his cheekbone, he leans some of his weight onto it, he lets you toy with him like heâs yours to do as you please. Thereâs a part of him that thinks he is, even if itâs fucked up, even if the two of you are still somewhere in purgatory.
âPretty,â you mumble, a mindless word. âI can understand why they hate me.â
His bottom lip curls, âIâm so sorryââ
âNo,â you shake your head. âNot your fault.â
His lungs twist hard enough to steal his breath. His hands find your hips, pulling you forward until his forehead meets the heat of your abdomen; so soft under him, fragile in his hold, you have no idea how long heâs waited to hear those words, no idea the weight they hold. No idea the guilt that lives glued to his spine.Â
Your hands find his hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp, holding him against you like itâs where you wanted him, where heâs supposed to be. He thinks itâs where heâs supposed to be, too. He picks his head up only to place a kiss against your skin, a soft press of his lips over your stomach, it holds everything he canât say to you right now. He hopes you can feel it.Â
Your knees buckle a little, fingers stalling in his hair, he hears the breath you suck in, feels how you bend into him. âIâm drunk, donât make me horny, Iâll jump you.â
He snorts, your words pulling a laugh straight from his gut, he leans back to look up at you, your fingers still in his hair. Youâre smiling, lazy and stupid, but then you break away from him, thumbs tucked into your jeans like youâre about to shove them down.Â
âHold on, damn.â He stands on weak knees, quickly skipping out of the bathroom, he peeks his head back in just before closing the door. âBe careful. Shout if you need anything.â
âYouâll stay?â Your face is round with supplication.Â
âIâm not going anywhere.â
âHey.â
Your nose twitches.Â
âWake up, itâs after twelve.â
Your top lip curls.Â
âWake up, Iâm getting bored.â
You peek an eye open as your whole face tightens up, hands finding your cheeks, rubbing your eyes awake. Your stomach hurts, your knees feel sore, you grumble out a curse as your body stretches itself into consciousness.
âSheâs alive.â
You pause, peeking over your fingertips to Mingi sitting on the edge of your bed. Dark hair messy on his head, shirtless, a pair of your shorts painted onto his thighs. Youâre too confused to laugh at the sight.Â
âWhat the fuck?â You ask, voice laced with sleep, face scrunched up beyond recognition. âThe fuck are you doing here?â
âCome on,â he frowns, âyou didnât even throw up, thereâs no way you blacked out. Think, smart girl.â
You blink at him, letting the memories come back one after another. Wooyoung, shots, shots, shots, table, car, bathroom, bed. Mingiâs head on your stomach. Mingiâs lips on your skin.Â
âOh, shit.â You sit up on your elbows, eyes on your bedspread, still blinking crust out of your vision, âOh, shit.â
Mingi huffs a noise of amusement through his nose, âStill confused?â
You shake your head, heart picking up speed in your chest. Your head feels heavy, stomach nauseous, limbs tingly with leftover alcohol in your blood. You look up at him, âWhy are you still here?â
âYou asked me to stay,â he shrugs, like that was the most normal thing in the world. Like heâs stayed over a thousand times before.Â
âSo you stayed?â Your brows stay knitted together, confused, confused confused confused.Â
âSo I stayed,â he nods, âhow do you feel?â
âLike dog shit.â
âSounds about right,â heâs smiling but heâs trying to hide it. It makes your lips twitch upward. âYou remember dancing on my dining room table?â
Your eyes close, lips flat, brows raised. âYup,â you nod, âunfortunately, I do.â
âRemember asking to fuck on my car?â
Your eyes shoot open, tone full of disbelief, âNo.â
âYouâre funny,â he chuckles, laying flat on his back at the edge of your bed. âYouâre always funny, but youâre an especially funny drunk. It was cute when I wasnât terrified you were gonna die.â
âThe scaries are gonna haunt me for weeks,â you push yourself up, forehead meeting your palms. âFuck.â
âI was hoping we could talk,â he sounds coy all of the sudden, nervous. Shy.Â
You nod, âLet me shower again, eat something, drink a bottle of water. I feel like a fucking zombie.â
After cursing yourself out under your breath upon entering your messy bathroom, half your shower was spent with your forehead pressed to the wall, somehow cooling down your body temperature while steaming water soaked away all your shame. You ran through the events last night over and over, a little fuzzy at the edges, but each and every damning moment was crystal clear. You dried yourself off, completed your routine all with the same thought in mind: What the hell does he want to talk about?
Itâs not like he likes you for real. Youâd never workâ your past is too messy, your current state is too messy, actually. He needs someone with a clean record, a nice, pretty girl who dresses in dainty clothes, someone who says please and thank youâ thatâs his goddamn destiny, a girl like Winter. Reserved, bashful, composed, you wonder if sheâs ever said a curse word out loud, sheâs nothing like you. Sheâs someone the internet would love, his coaches would love, his family would probably love, not that you know anything about his family.
Youâre getting ahead of yourselfâ youâre spiraling. The only outcome of this conversation is that tension ran high, he was kind enough to take care of you when you were drunk, youâd go back to normalcy in an hour. Maybe Wooyoungâs free later tonight, heâd make a snide comment about you dancing on the table, youâd laugh like it was intentional. Like there werenât videos of you on peopleâs phones thatâd haunt you at two in the morning for weeks to come.Â
âWhatâs all this?â You asked upon walking into the living room, Mingi stood beside your small kitchen table, rummaging through one of two plastic bags.Â
âI ordered food,â he says, pulling out containers from the bag. Setting them down on the table neatly, one on top of another, neat.Â
Your brows furrow, walking into the kitchen hesitantly, âFood?â
âI canât cook,â he looks up at you with a half-smile, âno idea how. But you need to eat, I also got juice for you, and I found ibuprofen in your cabinetââ
âMingi,â you shake your head, trying to gather your bearings, âwhat are you doing?â
He holds up a hand, flat palm facing you, features straight and unimpressed. âDonât start with me, sit down and eat. Weâll talk after thereâs food in your stomach.â
You must still be drunk. Limbs feeling heavy, you trudge into the wooden seat, the one with the broken bar that supports the legs. Breakfast food, so much breakfast food, your stomach hurts at the sight of oil and grease, but you need it, you need the juice, tooâ you sucked that down in record time.Â
Silence, other than the sound of chewing and plastic ruffling, it was comfortable. Maybe a little awkward, unless that was your nerves talking which was absolutely plausible, you still sat in fucking confusion. Feeding you, catering to you, taking care of you like he did last nightâ and he still only had on your shorts. Your powder blue waffle shorts that fit you loose but clung to his muscled, golden, tan-lined thighs like theyâd rip at the seams if he moved the wrong way.Â
You hate that itâs nice having him here. You hate that youâre letting it happen.Â
Pills swallowed, enough food in your stomach to take an hour to digest, the awkwardness grew after cleaning up the table. Both aimlessly pacing the kitchen, pretending to still have something to do, avoiding the conversation that needs to happen. Might as well get it over with.Â
âMingiââ
âCan I start?â
You sigh, pointing a finger in the direction of the living room. âCouch.â
Your stomach feels uneasy like youâd throw up every bite as you sit across from him, both taking edges of the couch like youâre scared to get close. You sit on a leg like itâd give you an easy escape if you needed it, despite it being your apartment.Â
âIâm sorry,â he starts, voice small. Your brows furrow, ready to ask what the hell heâs sorry for, but his lips part instead. âIâm so sorry you were sent messages about me, this has happened before, my ex-girlfriend broke up with me because of them, because people didnât leave her alone about me.â
âMingi, itâs not your faultââ
He looks up at you and his glassy eyes kill the words on your tongue. His voice is small, layered with struggle, âWe were together for a year. When I posted her, us, she broke up with me within two weeks. We never spoke again.â
Your jaw drops, âTwo weeks?â
He nods, âI donât even think we made it to the fourteenth day, I canât believe I didnât think that would happen to you. I guess I thought because our relationship was fake it wouldnât, but no one knows it was fake, I just didnât think, again. I let it happen again. Iâm sorry.âÂ
Ah, and now everything makes sense. âYou didnât need to do all of this because you feel bad. Iâm a big girl, I can take care of myself, I also know when things are out of your hands, and the messages are one-hundred-percent out of your hands.â
His brows furrow after a second, âI didnât take care of you because of the messages, or because I feel bad. I took care of you because I care about you, I like you.â
âNo,â you shake your head, âno you donât. You might think you do, but you donât.â
âHuh?â His eyes thin, top lip lifting, âWho are you to tell me what I feel?â
âI just know, Iâve seen your type, and itâs not me. Which is fine, I donâtââ
âYou told me you liked me last night,â he argues.
Your lips flatten. âI was drunk.â
âDrunk words are sober thoughts.â
âWhat are you? Sixteen years old?â Your face twists, âIâm being realistic and logical, youâre acting on emotion.â
âWell I havenât felt this much emotion since she broke up with me!â His hands fly up on either side of him, voice strained. âAnd Iâve missed it, I missed feeling this way. I want to keep feeling this way, about you.â
Your blinks are stuttered, slow. Your lips purse, he might have shocked you into silence. He runs a hand through his hair, face torn up into exasperation, he sighs, one deep and grounding. Looking at you again, he asks, âDo you really not want me? Thereâs not one bone in your body that wishes everything weâve done the last few weeks was real?â
Your chest is tight. Your lips wonât move, your mind is blank.
âYou donât think you deserve it,â his voice switches to something calm, understanding. âSomeone to like you, or care about you, I know. Youâre used to guys like him, guys who use your feelings as ammunition. I wonât do that to you.â
You feel like stone. Stuck, still, eyes wide, unblinking. Fear simmers.
He shifts himself closer, eyes pleading. âI was sick when I found out you slept with Wooyoung, Iâve never acted like that before in my life, so jealous and angry, like he was taking you from me. I felt like you were mine, and he was trying to steal youââ
âI asked him to,â you finally speak, rushed and panicked. Thereâs nothing else left to argue with other than this. âI basically begged him.â
âYou were upset,â Mingi shakes his head, âyou told me. You said you were upset because of the messages and because I kissed you, you didnât want toââ
âI needed to,â you try to swallow, throat squeezed tight, âI needed him to. He isnât kind, he isnât genuine, he doesnât hold me like Iâm breakable, he wouldnât do all the shit you did for me last night. He isnât you, and I needed the reminder. Thatâs what I deserve, not you.â
âDo you even know what youâve done for me in the weeks weâve known each other?â Mingiâs voice is pitched now, layered with raw emotion. âYouâve reminded me what freedom is like. That I can do whatever I want, Iâm not a machine, or a puppet for someone else to use. You gave me back myself, is it so ridiculous that I donât want to let you fucking go?â
âIâm scared,â you blurt it out, two words pulled from so deep in your psyche you canât believe you said them out loud. âIâm scared to let myself feel anything towards you.â
âYou already feel something towards me,â he argues, âa lot of something. You wouldnât have slept with him if you didnât.â
Stunned into silence again, your lips purse. He continues, âIâm not stupid. My vocabulary might not be as big as yours but Iâm not stupid, I know you have feelings for me. You canât hide that no matter how much you want to, how much you try to get it fucked out of you.â He shifts closer. âIâll show you. Let me kiss you again.â
âFuck no,â your brows furrow.Â
He deadpans, âLet me fuckinâ kiss you.â
âDid you even brush your teeth?â
âShut up,â he stands up on his knees, too big in front of you, chiseled body on display, your heart drops to your stomach. âStop deflecting. I see through you now.â
âMingiââ
His hands find the armrest behind you as you uncurl your leg from beneath you, trying to accumulate space, space youâre quickly losing as he leans closer. âYou donât have to be scared with me.â
Your breath is shallow and shaky, heart in your throat, eyes halfway out of your head. He keeps his face close, forehead a millimeter from yours, you feel his heat first. Heâs so big, he swallows your figure, heâs too big for the fucking couch, itâs dizzying.Â
âIâm gonna kiss you.â
âThat sounds like a threat.â
He smiles before pressing his lips to yours, soft, so fucking delicate it takes you a moment to ease into it, to process that itâs even a kiss. Softer than it was on the fieldâ his lips barely graze yours at first, as if he was testing the waters, like he wanted to feel your breath on his skin, wanted to feel your body say yes before your mouth said the word. Your lips part for him, soft and steady, molding to his, letting him guide, lead.Â
He asks for entrance with his tongue, swiping along your bottom lip with a certain courtesy like even though you were following him, letting him show you, you still held the reins. Your insides feel molten, fingers grabbing onto your shirt like you didnât know where else to put them, mind in a constant battle to pick every detail apart or shut off completely. Itâs differentâ it might be everything, laying here and kissing him softly, lazily, like nothing else exists except for him, his weight, his mouth. He tastes like something new, something blue, a memory youâd come back to for a long, long time.Â
He parts from you, lips swollen and red like heâd bitten them, he stares. Chocolate eyes big and round, pupils dilated, cheeks flushed a pretty rose, he looks at you like heâs just discovered you. Like even though he kissed you to prove something to you, itâs proven something deeper to himself.Â
He doesnât smile, still calculating, but in a quiet voice he asks, âDo you feel it too?â
Your fists are still tight in your shirt, you search his eyes, the way they fall to your lips, you donât answerâ you kiss him again, harder this time, faster, tongue passing through his lips like his mouth belonged to you, like you were running out of time. You shift down on the couch, pillow falling to the floor, his elbows bracket your head as your calves hook over his thighs, moving in unison like your bodies were acting without either of you thinking about it.Â
Your hands find his hair when you wrap your arms around his neck, lifting yourself into him, pressing yourself against him, feeling the strength of him, it makes a tight noise leave your lips, one needy and begging. He rolls his hips into you on instinct and you moan into his mouth like you need him to do it harder.
âFuck,â he curses into your mouth, lifting himself up on his palms, âwaitâ wait.âÂ
âWhat?â You follow on your elbows, bug-eyed, âWhy? What happened?âÂ
He swallows, panting, running a hand through his hair as he sits back on his calves, your legs still thrown lazily over his thighs. The print of his length sits heavy and prominent with his legs spread in your cotton shorts, your eyes flicker back and forth to his face, mouth watering, patience already scarily thin.Â
âThis isnât how this was supposed to go,â he shakes his head, chest splotchy, tummy expanding with each aborted breath he takes. âI want this, I want you, I want to do it right.âÂ
Your heart flutters in your chest, itâs at war with your dampening panties, your thighs that twitch as the words leave his mouth. His eyes drop to your figure, the big tee you wore hiked up to your stomach, tiny shorts clinging to your dampened core, he squeezes his eyes shut like itâd erase the sight from his memory.Â
âYou want to stop because you want to take me out on a date?â You ask, brows raised. âWeâve been on, like, two already. Maybe three or four if you squint.âÂ
He opens his eyes to narrow them, âYouâre such a smartass.â
You smile at that, head tilting, cocky, âClearly you like it, since you wanna date my smart-ass.â
His hands fall to your hips, tugging them towards him until your back is flat against the couch again, âI wanna do more than that.âÂ
âThen do it,â you huff, hips bucking into him, arms lifting to reach for him, âyouâre the one who stopped.âÂ
âDo you ever shut the fuck up?â He asks, leaning forward enough to let you wrap your arms around his shoulders, he uses his hands at your waist to lift you up onto his lap.Â
You gasp at the movement, at the fucking ease in which he maneuvers you, your knees land beside his hips before you answer. âIf you want me to shut the fuck up then give me a reason to.â
âI lied, donât want you quiet,â heâs looking up at you from this angle and the sight of him steals your breath, makes everything feel a little more real. Heâs so beautiful and he wants you and fuck you want him, too.Â
âMake up your mind,â you press yourself to his chest, keeping your faces close. âYâknow, you talked big game that night at the LAX house, been wondering if you could back it up.â
His hands tuck beneath your tee, fingers warm against your skin as they drag up your sides, palms landing heavy on your waist, it makes you shiver. He smirks, âNow youâre baiting me into fucking you?â
âMaybe,â your faces are so close your lips graze, âis it working?â
He kisses you again, more feverish than the last, hands squeezing your waist before they drop down to your hips, grinding you against him. You keep your arms folded around his neck, tongue slotting between his lips messily, teeth clashing together as you grind your core against his clothed length, roughly, purposely, letting him feel the arousal thatâs bottled up inside. You part to empty strangled noises into each otherâs mouths, eyes screwed tight, your hips move steadily in a rhythm guided by his hands. So hard, long and thick beneath you, you could feel him through your shorts, his shorts, there was no stopping. There was no pausing.Â
His hands find the hem of your tee, you help him pull it over your head, his lips find your neck, your chest, your head tilts back to give him access, for small, pitched breaths to leave your lips, a song for him to hear. He groans when your hips slow into a nasty grind, his tongue pokes out to drag down your chest, over your heart where he places an open-mouthed kiss. He looks up at you to say, âThis is mine now.â
Your heartbeat picks up, he smiles like he can feel it. Brows knitted together, face bent with intoxicated arousal, you respond, âI donât remember agreeing to that.â
âWeâre technically still dating,â his teeth catch onto the hem of the lace bralette you wore, tugging on it before placing a kiss right above, at the center of the valley between your breasts, âand weâre not breaking up.â
âAre you trying to gaslight me?â You ask, hips still moving against him, fingers knotting in his hair when your clothed clit rolls over the ledge of his tip, âahâ I think we had a very public breakup last night.â
One of his hands slithers over the curve of your hip, down between your thighs, two fingers adding pressure where you needed it. You choke on a moan, back arching, hips digging into the pressure as he grins wide, âI forgave you already. This is make-up sex.â
âMore,â your fingers tighten in his hair, eyes squeezing shut, âMingi.â
âOh, I like that,â he circles his fingers twice over your clit, smirking, âbeg a lilâ more, put that mouth to good use.â
Your eyes open wanting to scowl but your brows are knitted too deeply in pleasure, lips parted and glossy with his spit, you canât force yourself to as his fingers circle over your clit again. âP-please,â you stutter over the word, hips rolling into his touch, âwanna feel you.â
His face contorts in pleasure like you were the one touching him, he catches your lips again, tongue slotting into your mouth as his fingers dive beneath your shorts. He groans into your mouth as he slips between your folds, feeling the wetness that seeped through your damp shorts, âSo wet for me, princess.â
Your hips buck into his hand, body twitching at how thick his fingers feel at your center combined with that fucking word on his tongue. âFeels sâgood, more, Mingi, inside.â
âSay please,â the words are muffled, lips still pressed to yours.Â
You whisper, âPlease.â
âGood girl,â he mutters, feeling you clenching around nothing as his fingers prod at your entrance. His eyes flicker upward, âYou liked that? Being called my good girl?âÂ
You nod shamelessly, hips rolling into his fingers, beckoning him to put them inside. Slowly he inches forward and you gasp, breath catching in your throat, fingers tightening in his hair, he curves them with each inch he gives you, adding pressure on that spot as soon as he reaches it, youâre choking on your own pleasure as your hips grind to fuck yourself on his fingers.Â
âSo greedy,â he whispers, completely in awe, âlook at you, baby, fucking yourself on my fingers. You gonna be good for me and cum on âem?âÂ
âHoly shit,â you whisper, hips stuttering, his words going straight to the pit in your belly. Youâve never had someone pay this much attention to you or your pleasure, never had someone even insinuate making you cum before theyâve taken their pants off. He crooks his fingers and you whine, âYou donât h-have to, âhmygod.â
âYes I do,â his fingertips massage that spot, fucking into you in small, stuttered thrusts so he can keep pressure, âneed you to cum around my fingers, then around my cock, gonna do that for me?âÂ
âYeah,â you roll your hips faster, harder, meeting the thrusts of his fingers, his movement trapped within your shorts, the edge of his palm kissing your clit. Itâs fucking dirty, nasty the way youâre moving, so shameless, if you werenât so consumed by pleasure youâd be mortified at how easily he cracked your composure.Â
âYeah? You wanna cum around my cock?â He asks, tone arrogant because he knows the answer, âGonna make a mess on me with this wet lilâ pussy?â
âMingi,â you whine, âstop.â
âYou like it, I can feel you clenching,â he grins, you open your eyes just enough to see it. Cocky, but heâs backing it up and fuck you might die if he stops. âSo good for me, bet youâd take anything I give you, bet youâd ask for more.â
The pit of pleasure builds steadily in your gut and you bite your lip to try to keep your mewls inside. Itâs futile when he kisses you, drinking up every wrecked moan you spill into his mouth, keeping his fingers moving at the same pace, the same pressure. The rough edge of his palm hitting your clit with each movement and itâs so fucking obvious he knows exactly what heâs doing, how to pull you to the finish line with ease.Â
âMingi,â you gasp out, limbs locking as you climb, âIâm close.â
âI know,â he presses his lips to your chin, under your jaw, âgive it to meâ cum for me, baby.â
Your hips stutter first before your orgasm crashes over you heavily, body twitching, rolling into him, he moves with you, keeping his hand steady as you ride out your orgasm, chanting praises into the space between you, encouragement that extends your pleasure, the feeling of euphoria that rocks through you never-ending. You keel after you finish, forehead meeting his, body deflating like he took everything out of you, he kisses your unmoving mouth, smiling into you when you donât respond.Â
âDid so good for me,â he pulls his fingers out of your shorts, bringing them up between your faces, slipping them between his lips. He moans in pleasure, âMm, canât wait to eat her. Youâll let me, right? Youâll ride my face if I tell you to?â
The pit in your stomach twists all over again, core clenching around nothing, heâs filthy. You love it. âNeed you inside,â you mutter, voice tight with arousal but winded, âneed to feel you, Min.â
His smile returns, âCan you handle it, big girl? Look at you after just two fingers.â You whine and he laughs like itâs the funniest thing heâs ever seen, âI canât believe youâre so easy. Youâve got such a fuckinâ attitude and now youâre whining and crying for my cock.â
âYou asked me if I ever shut the fuck up,â you grind yourself against him, bleeding impatience, âdo you?â
He makes a sound he keeps lodged in his throat, it makes you smirk. He answers, âNot if it makes you this wet. You soaked through your shorts, princess.â
âStop calling me that,â you huff, âfuck me already, âm tired of hearing you run your mouth.â
His hands find your thighs, holding onto them tight as he lifts himself up, you fall backwards fast with a loud yelp, back hitting the cushions of the couch. Heâs predatory as he leans over you, âThis mouth can make you cum faster than my fingers did,â his fingers find the hem of your shorts, âwanna find out?â
âI want you to fuck me,â you lift your hips for him and he tugs them down to your ankles, âsave your filthy fuckinâ mouth for another time.â
âThere she is,â he stands on his knees, tugging at the baby blue shorts on his hips, âknew the brat was in there somewhere.â
âIt only comes out when youâre a cocky motherfuckââ he tugs his shorts down and the word dies on your tongue. Bigger than he felt beneath you, thick, red, leaking, your mouth waters, back arching off the couch at the sight, âDamn.â
Heâs smirking and you hate that his cockiness is starting to become sexy. âGonna take it all like a big girl?â
Youâre nodding, not even looking at him, you canât take your eyes off his cock. Bigger than Wooyoung, than Hyunjin, he might even be bigger than Mingyu and thatâs a feat. All you can muster is, âHurry.â
He settles between your legs, your knees spread under his heavy palms, he licks his lips when he gets eyes on your center. âSheâs so pretty, baby. Why didnât you tell me? Woulda been fucking you weeks ago.â
âGod, Mingi, shut up,â you buck your hips toward him, âget inside me already.â
âSheâs soaked,â he wraps his fist around his cock, sliding it through your folds, rubbing circles over your clit that make you shiver, âso pretty, gonna ruin her. Can I? So you canât fuck anyone but me?â
Impatience is a band that snaps hard, âIs that why you talk so much? You have a big dick that you donât even know how to useââ
He wastes no time slipping back down to your entrance and pushing inside, just his tip has your body locking up, head tipping back, a tight, wilted noise slipping out of you involuntarily, it tells him everything you canât say. Heâs smirking even if heâs fighting to keep his own pleasure at bay, âYeah? I donât know how to use it? Say that again.â
Heâs curved, carving into you like heâd make you take it even if you couldnât, your walls suck him in like you were made for it, clenching around the width of him, mushroom tip kissing your cervix just enough that itâs pleasurableâ you shake your head, biting your fucking tongue, nails clawing at the couch cushions because no oneâs ever felt this good just sitting inside you.Â
âExactly,â he pulls out slowly, filling you back up just as slowly, letting you adjust to his length, his thickness, the perfection your mind couldnât comprehend. âLay there and take it like a good fuckinâ girl.â
âFuck, Mingi,â itâs high-pitched, filled with anticipation and slight disbelief. You watch as his abdomen flexes, how his tummy fills with air and deflates, his jaw that goes slack with each thrust, heâs so sexy it hurts. âFaster.â
He picks up speed on command, palms finding your shins, pushing them back into your chest as his cock starts bullying into you, âLike that?â
You can barely choke out a yes, hands flying to his biceps, nails marking crescents into his skin, half-curses fly from your lips drowned out by tight moans, pitched noises when his tip drags over that spot inside you, repeating, âMingi, Mingi,â like itâs the only word you know.Â
âIâm here,â he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your knee, âI got you, know itâs big, baby, you can take it.â
You curse again as he fucks into you harder, back trying to arch but he has you pinned so deep you canât move, âMingi!â
He smiles, eyes half-lidded, âThat all you can say? Fucked out already? Just started.â
You whimper, legs shaking beneath his palms, he lets go of your shins so he can lean down and kiss you, trading speed for a pace so deep and heavy you canât kiss back. Moaning straight into his mouth, arms around his neck, you keep him close, legs hooked around his back, âMingi.â
âDoing so good,â he kisses your cheek, your jaw, down your neck, âpussy so tight, baby, so perfect, gonna have to fuck you every day.â
You sound hypnotized, you might be. âYes, yes, every day.â
âYou know why?â He doesnât wait for your answer. ââCause youâre mine.â
âUh-huh,â you nod, and when he picks his face back up to kiss you, you kiss him back. Itâs a mess of teeth and spit, too distracted and moving to be considered a kiss, but youâre lucid enough to tangle your fingers in his hair, for your hips to start fucking back.Â
âSay it,â he whispers in your mouth, edged like a blade. It makes you moan.Â
He groans, hips picking up speed all over again, he buries his head in the crook of your shoulder, lips mindlessly pressing against your skin, tongue poking out just to taste the sweat that's formed. He slips an arm between your bodies to press two fingers against your clit and you twitch, a sharp moan escaping you, bucking into him at a pace unsteady and uncontrolled as the pressure builds fast.Â
âMingi!â Itâs loud and pitched, âToo much, too much.â
âNo âts not,â his words are muffled, lips pressed against your skin, âTake it, cum around my cock. Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you cum fâme, baby.â
Strangled noises escape you one after another, his fingers circling your clit with practiced movements like he already knew your body inside and out. Heâs still talking as pleasure climbs, your fingernails clawing shapes into his back, his rhythm doesnât change or falter for a second. His words feel mindless, babbles of praise, âCâmon, baby, cum for me. Need to feel you clenching around my cock, say my name, say youâre mine.â
âIâm yours, Mingi,â you donât sound any more composed than he does, âMingi, âhmygod Iâm gonna cum, just for you, all for you.âÂ
He moans as your pleasure hits its peak, seizing beneath him, legs locking around his body, fingers raking at his back hard enough to leave marks, youâre a mess of moans and cries and whimpers, but he doesnât stop, he doesnât let up even a little. Heâs cursing, hips jerking into you at that same fucking damning pace like his life depended on it, like he refused to give you anything but the entirety of your orgasm.Â
Youâre still shaking when he pushes himself up, body red and splotchy, veins swollen and prominent and everywhere. âGonna flip you,â you think he might be saying it to himself more than to you with the way he moves you fully on his own, your front meets the couch with a squeak, body spent, head fuzzy.Â
Youâre flat against the couch, his legs straddle yours just below your ass, he spreads you to lean down and spit before heâs pushing inside once more. You curse sharply into the pillow, eyes rolling back, hands swatting behind you as he fills you up in one fell swoop.Â
He shushes you, two hands grabbing your swatting arms by your wrists, pinning them at the base of your spine, âYou can take it. Breathe, princess.â When he moves, you feel like you might never recover. Your wails are muffled by the cushion you buried your face in, the pleasure was different, more, deeper, the way his cock grinds against that spot inside you and you canât get awayâ you feel the pressure build like it never stopped, steady, heavy, so euphoric you might not be in your body at all anymore.
âYouâre perfect, oh my god,â you hear him behind you, âgonna let me fill you up? Let me mark whatâs mine? Fuck, baby, need to fill this perfect pussy up, need to cum inside.â
You dig your fingernails into your palms, kicking at the armrest on the other side of the couch, grinding your teeth, you turn your head just to cry, âYes, fill me up, inside,â your voice cracks, âplease.â
âClenching around me sâfuckinâ hard,â his voice is rough, âyâgonna cum again?â
You let out a noncommittal sound and he changes the angle ever so slightly, your vision blurs, breath taut in your chest, his cock drilling against that spot like he was aiming for it, you donât know if the damp spot under your head was from tears or drool. Keeping the angle, the pace, he lets your arms go before leaning over, pressing a sloppy kiss to your shoulderblade, breath hot in your ear, âSo fucking perfect, let go fâme, baby.â
The sound you let out in response was from the deepest part of your lungs, a sob, a prayer, youâre so close you can fucking taste it. He presses another kiss to the tip of your spine, leaning over your shoulder again, mouth opening, teeth grazing your skinâ when you feel him clamp down in a bite you lose it, trembling, sobbing, fisting the couch cushions with his name on your tongue, âMingi!âÂ
âYes,â in awe again, his hips stutter, âthere you go, fuuckâ fuck, gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.â Youâre spasming around his length, hips bucking, trying to escape the unending pleasure as his thrusts only get heavier, sloppier, quicker. He keeps himself close, âMy perfect girl, yâgonna take every drop? Fuckâ fuck, gonna cum, baby, you want it?â
âYes, Min,â youâre grabbing for him again, nails clawing at his thighs behind you, âfill me up, make me yours. Need you inside.â
One hand snakes under your jaw, turning your head he kisses you sloppily as his hips stutter, groaning a curse into your mouth as he twitches inside you, then he slows, warmth filling you up, ropes of his release heavy, hot, nasty. His breath is short, winded, exhausted, you donât think yours is any more even.Â
âMingi,â it comes out like a whimper, you feel him twitch inside you, he lets go of your face. A lazy grin takes over your cheeks, eyes closing, âYou werenât lying.â
He laughs, a small, easy thing, lifting himself up. âWhy would I lie?â
âDunno,â you answer absent-mindedly, âmake yourself sound better.â
âBaby,â his hands smooth over the skin of your back, he leans down to press a soft kiss in the middle of your spine. Mumbling into your skin like he was too shy to say it with his chest, âI donât need to do that.â
You hum, âOf course, how could I forget, youâre the entire package.â
âI canât tell if thatâs a compliment or if youâre fucking with me.â
âGood.â
He smacks his teeth, âIâm gonna pull out, âkay?â
You pop a brow at the warning, but as he starts to slip out inch by inch, youâre grateful for his thighs keeping you locked in place because the full-body twitch it gives you is lethal. You whine a little as his spent cock lays still-heavy on your ass, âHow do you keep that thing hidden?â
He snorts, âLike in my pants?â
âThatâs a weapon,â youâre still twitching beneath him, âand you just used it on me.â
Heâs giggling as he shifts himself to be able to carefully flip you over, another movement he does with ease as if youâre some kind of toy. It still makes your stomach curl with warmth, body flushing hot as he lays himself down next to you, sliding an arm under your body, holding you close. âSmells like sex in here.â
You curl into his side, cheek pressed to his bare chest, eyes closing again. âDonât care.â
âI really like you, you know,â his voice is low but steady, honest, âand I want to be your boyfriend.â
You pick your head up to look at him, his eyes big and round, glossed over like he was nervous to say the words. You reach a hand up, running your fingers through his chocolate locks once before cupping his cheek, guiding him down to press your lips softly against his. âYou already are my boyfriend, moron.â
âI mean seriouslyââ
âAnd I mean seriously, youâre already my boyfriend,â you raise your brows in expectation, âso no more ogling girls at parties, no more calling me stupid names and no more Winter.â
âI thought you said youâve never been anyoneâs girlfriend before,â thereâs a stupid smile on his face, âseems like you got the gist, princess.â
âWhat did I literally just sayââ
âWhat about the messages?â His question is a little sturdier.Â
Your brows furrow, âWhat about them? I already turned my requests off.â
His brows match yours, âThatâs it? It doesnât turn you off from being with me?â
âI fucked Wooyoung like, two days ago, Mingi,â you smile when he makes a face of disgust, âif you can mentally handle that, I can mentally handle being in the spotlight, as long as its smaller than yours. But if I canât, Iâll tell you, and weâll figure it out. Wait, what about your coaches?â
âThat is such a non-issue,â he rolls his eyes, âwho gives a fuck?â
You make a face of surprised agreement, bottom lip bending over, brows raising, âSure. Who gives a fuck?â
He smiles, âCool, I think thatâs everything.â
âCool,â you nuzzle yourself back into his chest, pressing a short kiss to his skin, âby the way, how long until we can fuck again? Iâve been waiting three weeks for this too, yâknow.â
â bf!mingi x gf!reader x bestie!yunho
â warnings in each part smut minors dni / word count 89.2k
ONE â planning to buy a house, get married and start a family within the next few years, you and mingi are the blueprint for the perfect relationshipâ until one of yunhoâs infamous stories about his intriguing sex life gets stuck in your head for a little too long, and has you curious about spicing up your own sex life. 21.4k
TWO â it finally happened... and then it happened again... and again... until lines are blurred and everything feels a little heavier than it was supposed to. 31.3k
THREE â four days away at the beach, hiding your feelings from all of your friends while youâre all under the same roof, a week after yunho broke up with you and mingi. easy enough, right? 36.5k
[three's company] boyfriend!mingi x fem!reader x boyfriend!yunho
tall, curvy, insecure reader. angst, fluff, smut minors dni | pinv, oral (receiving), anal, mxm, fingering, manhandling, degradation, hella praise, one alcoholic drink consumed, subspace, they're in love, established relationship dynamics, light bdsm dynamics, breeding kink, words mommy and pregnancy are used, aftercare | wc 8.8k
âââ if you feel like you've read this before, that's because i'm reposting it! technically this is non-canon 3comp but i wanted to post her in her full glory bc this is my soul fic
âCan we go out tonight?â Yunhoâs head hung off the back of the recliner, his head tilted to look at you and Mingi in the kitchen, sharing a bowl of chips at the counter, scrolling on your phones. A book halfway read laid on his lap, your top lip curled at the question, you assumed tonight was another night in.Â
âWhere?â You answered his question like there was nothing open at this hour. Seven in the evening on a Friday, you wanted it to be another night in with your boyfriends. Those were your favorite.Â
âJinkies,â Yunho replied simply, like that answer was so obvious you should have known it already. The dive bar a few streets over you frequented often, your friends were always there, it was a staple for your town. Your gaze slid to Mingi and he blinked at you, indifference on his face, before stuffing another chip in his mouth.Â
âWhat if we go tomorrow instead?â You tilt your head, smiling enticingly at Yunho, but his eyebrows slanted in a way that meant he saw straight through you. When he asked tomorrow, youâd say next week, then heâd be irritated, and youâd spend half the night trying to make it up to him when all you wanted to do was stay home cuddled up to his side.Â
âCome on,â Mingi nudged your phone in your hand with his own. âWe havenât been out in awhile, and itâs Yunho asking this time, not me.â
That was true. It usually was Mingi asking to go out, get drunk, to inevitably go home and fuck like drunken rabbits, forever his plan, his favorite weekend activity. Your top lip curled again, a low whine sneaking its way past your lips, your head tilting back.Â
âWhy canât we just stay home and spend quality time with each other?â You complained, slipping off the stool you sat on to trudge over to Yunho, who kept amusement in his eyes as he watched you come closer. You leaned down, palms pressed into the armrests of the recliner he sat on, letting your voice sink into something sultry, âWe could have a lot more fun if we stayed home.â
He tilted his chin up in a way that meant kiss me, âWe can do that when we get home, baby. It's Friday, we can sleep in tomorrow.â You pouted, but you closed the distance to press your lips against his, anyway. You tried to deepen it, sinking into him farther, trying to pry open his lips with your tongue, but he pulled away. âYou know that doesnât work on me, Iâm not Mingi.â
âHey,â Mingi scoffed from the kitchen. âIâm not that easy. Usually she takes off her shirt, at that point itâs out of my hands.â
You canât help the smile that crawls onto your cheeks, even if you were trying to prove how much you hated the idea of leaving your apartment tonight. Yunho tilts his head, a palm reaching up to cradle one side of your face, âItâs only seven. You have plenty of time to get ready, and we donât have to stay out past twelve.â
You sigh, leaning off the recliner, hands landing on your hips. Every excuse you could have made, he just countered. He knows you too well.Â
Mingiâs jaw dropped from the counter, âThat was the easiest weâve ever gotten her to say yes.â
âWe? I asked,â Yunho responds, picking up his book again, fixing where his glasses sat on his face, completely ignoring how Mingiâs face blew wide with offense. âBe ready by nine.â
âIâm showering, youâre hanging out with me while I get ready,â you point at Mingi and he slides off the stool immediately, his lopsided, giddy grin spread wide.Â
âIâll shower with you!â He calls after you, hot on your tail as you walk into the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom. After being together for years, taking a shower together these days was more for saving water, saving time, than it was for quickies or heated touchesâ yet sometimes they were still for exactly that.Â
You washed your hair while he washed your body, just because he can, lathered hands sliding over each curve of your body, taking time on your chest, your ass, giving each a proper grope, playing it off that you were extra dirty. You rolled your eyes with a smile, but let him do as he pleased, his hands on your body so comforting, each touch filled with love, he was obsessed with you. Touching you. Feeling you.Â
You couldnât say you werenât obsessed too, the way you took time washing his body, on his chest, his abdomen, his thighs, his cock that began growing the moment your fingers neared. Groaning, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, âDonât start, we wonât leave the fuckinâ house.â
With raised brows, your smile in answer was mischievous. He shook his head, lips parting as you gripped him just right, âFuck, heâll kill us, or tie us up or something. Donât start, seriously.â
You leaned into him, smiling at him, your lowered eyes meeting his easily, your heads almost meeting the same height, your gaze sank him deeper into your trap. âI already started.â
The shower curtain opened. You jumped away from each other, caught red-handed.Â
Yunhoâs sigh was long, knowing. Deep brown hair ruffled on his forehead, glasses nowhere to be seen, he was naked, his strong body on display, your mouth watered. He noticed, but instead his features drooped into a scowl.
âCanât let you two do anything,â he mumbled, annoyed, stepping in right between you.Â
You pouted, but stayed for the duration of the shower in an attempt to convince him to do anything else but go to the bar. You loved staying home with them, but your distaste for going to the bar was a little more loaded, a tad bit deeper than you let on.Â
The dingy dive bar you frequented, full of everyone you know, you loved seeing them, but sometimes it made you sick remembering that they saw you, too. Ripping your closet apart to find an outfit, then finding one just to try it on and hate how it looks on you. Your jeans didnât fit like they did four years ago. Your chest spilled out of the collection of going out tops you had in your closet.Â
Your body was differentâ but it should be. Your mindset changes as you get older, your hormones change, your priorities change, everything changes, but somehow you couldnât accept that your body changed, too. It was insecurity, it was something you kept on a tight leash so it didnât bleed into your relationship with the two men who loved you severely.Â
You were getting your period soon and already feeling more bloated than usual, on top of the regular insecurity that thrummed beneath your skin as a constant reminder. You didnât want to go. You didnât want to see anyone that knew you back then, that can compare the old you to the new you. You could go to Jinkies a thousand times and still have the same uncomfortable pang in your gut about leaving the house.
Mingi helped with your hair, styled it how you liked it while you did your makeup, just dark enough for the dive bar vibe. Upbeat music played throughout your shared space, the three of you mindlessly singing along to your favorite songs as you got ready in your bedroom, a king-sized bed right in the middle, big enough for the three of you.Â
Youâve never been small. Always taller than your friends, forever standing behind them at concerts so they could see, reaching the things they couldnât reach, somehow being seen as rougher, more masculine in a strange way, just because you towered over them. Having to do research on the inseam of pants before you bought them, clothes not fitting right, even having a smaller dating pool. Being in a relationship with two tall men was incredible, even better that they were still taller than you, despite it just being an inch or two. Almost face to face with Mingi, Yunho still stood above you both.Â
Theyâve never once been the core of your insecurity. For a long time, it lay dormant, like you locked it away in a box, never to be opened again. Over the years, youâve had your fair share of not being able to wear heels, slouching your shoulders to appear smaller, but never once with Mingi and Yunho have you needed to shrink any part of yourself. They loved you, every fucking inch of you, loud and proud.Â
You couldnât pinpoint when the box had been unlocked, but when you opened it again, it was exploding, overflowing with things that werenât there when you tucked it away.Â
You faced your closet, robe tied tight on your waist, heart pounding against your chest.Â
âWear the sexy jeans,â Yunho came up behind you, hands on your hips, his cheek pressed to yours. He smelled like your bodywash, clean, still him. You leaned into him, the comfort of his touch, too deep in your head, eyes laying over the denim in your closetâ you didnât know if the sexy jeans were still all that sexy.Â
But you pulled them out anyway, jumping into them, ignoring how Mingi snickered behind you. After he clasped your bra around your back, you pulled a random black top over your head, immediately reaching for the black bomber jacket you loved. Looking in the mirror, your jaw clenched, you swung the jacket over your shoulders before your thoughts could settle.Â
âWeâre not leaving for awhile yet, baby, if you wanna wait to put your jacket on,â Yunho kisses your head softly as he passes you, going into the bathroom for his cologne.Â
You meet Mingiâs eye as you pull it closer to your body. Heâs studying you always, too in-tune with your emotions, they both are; reading your thoughts before youâve properly finished them, knowing what's happening in your head just from the look on your face.Â
âYou look so fucking sexy,â he says low, almost under his breath as he crosses the room, pressing his forehead to yours, pushing your jacket off your shoulders. He kisses you as it falls to the floor, his hands reaching for your waist, squeezing you, tongue slipping between your freshly glossed lips.
âLemme see you,â he mutters against your mouth, taking a step back. His face morphs into pleasure like youâd just taken his cock into your mouth, âGod, Iâm so fuckinâ lucky. Yunho, come look at our pretty baby, all dolled up for us.â
Yunho, from the doorway to the bathroom, whistles low, âIâll never get tired of that ass, fuck, donât know how âm gonna keep my hands off you.â
âWe could always just stay home,â youâre smiling as you turn your head to see him. âYou can keep your hands on me.â
âBut you look so pretty,â he pouts, head tilting, so puppy-like it makes your tummy tumble. âI want everyone to see how beautiful my girlfriend is.â
âWe wanna show you off,â Mingi pulls you into him and you brace your hands on his chest, giggling. Black tee beneath his zip-up, soon to be paired with a leather jacket on top, he had a hat on his head, hiding his shiny black hair thatâs grown longer, touching the base of his neck. Baggy jeans on his legs, crisp sneakers on his feet, he was in his dive-bar uniform.Â
Yunhoâs uniform, loose cargos, an oversized tee, even more oversized flannel, his favorite sneakers on his feet. They were so predictable it made you laugh sometimes.Â
âFine,â you press your lips to his, slinging your arms around his neck, âI wonât beg anymore.â
âWeâll only be out a few hours,â Yunho is at your back, hands on your hips, now smelling like warmth, vanilla, woodsy cedar. He presses his lips to your hair again, his favorite place to kiss, anywhere on your head. âYou can have a few drinks and remind us what a lilâ tequila does to you.â
You snort, wiggling out of their grip, picking the black jacket up from the floor, âYou two will be reminding me what whiskey does to you, after youâve dapped up the entire fucking town.â
Looking back at them, Yunhoâs arms are linked around Mingiâs waist, standing slightly lowered behind him so their cheeks pressed together. You throw a hand on your hip, âOkay, choose a pair of shoes for me.â
The November air outside is fucking freezing, the inside of Jinkies isnât much better, but its giving you an excuse to hold your jacket close, so you canât complain. Bodies surround you, people youâve known for years, people youâve never met, everyone seems to have eyes on you and itâs already fucking suffocating.Â
âThis is my girlfriend,â Mingi is introducing you to someone from his job with the widest grin on his face, the guy is tall, you think Mingi said his name starts with a J? Structured face, broad build, generally handsome. âAnd my boyfriend, Yunho.â
You give him a tight-lipped smile, but your eyes dance about the bar, feeling like a sore thumb. Your arms are tucked under your chest, you need a drink, you want to go back home. Mingi laughs from his belly, something J-guy said, Yunho speaks over them to excuse you both with a hand on your lower back.Â
âLetâs get you a drink,â his eyes are on the crowd, on the flooded bar before you, on alert for a space to slide in, to flag the bartender down. You wished being tucked into his side meant you could cower beneath his height, be invisible amongst the sea of bodies.
Your lips are scrunched to one side, spitting an unhappy mumble, âMake it a double.â
He leans in against the bar, a sliver of space he carved out for himself, he keeps you tucked close to him and raises a brow while he taps his card along the bar. âWhatâs up with you?â
Your eyes jump up, defensive, âNothing, just donât wanna be here.â
He hums, âMm, something else, something youâre not telling me.â
Your lips smack, âI told you I didnât wanna come from the jump, Yun.â
Yunhoâs eyes are back on Mingi, that possessive streak of his showing in the flex of his jaw. Your eyes glide over to where your boyfriend stood, still laughing at something else J-guy said, his head tilting back, mismatched teeth on display. You watch Yunho watching, his brows a line, eyes squinting as if he could explode the man making his boyfriend laugh with his eyes.Â
âHeâs fine, leave him be,â you say under your breath. âBring him a drink and heâll be at your feet.â
Then Yunhoâs eyes are on yours again and you feel the irritation behind them, but he doesnât comment, instead asking, âHeâs kinda hot, whatâs his name again?â
You shrug, âDonât care. Whatâs taking so long?â
âThereâs a bar full of people, baby,â he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. âHave patience.â
You feel like a spoiled brat, arms crossed, foot tapping, not feeling any warmth when your boyfriend kisses your skin. You wished you could tell him itâs not because of him, itâs not because he dragged you here, it isâ but itâs more than that. You didnât want to hear him tell you youâre wrong for feeling this way, that itâs not true, that youâre beautiful.Â
Truth is, in his eyes, in Mingiâs eyes, you know youâre beautiful. You feel it every single day.Â
But no one else here is looking at you with rose-colored glasses the way they do.Â
Yunhoâs hand pulls your arms from your chest, unzipping your jacket to slide his arm around your waist, beneath the black leather. His hand hot on your skin, you fix your posture in a quick, startling jump of movement, Yunho flinches before settling his hand where he wants it.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â His brows are furrowed now, looking into your fucking soul with those chocolate brown eyes. âAre you okay?â
âIâm fine, Yunho,â you step back. âIâm gonna go to the bathroom, hopefully youâll have drinks by the time I get back.â
God, you hate acting like this. You hate who your insecurity is turning you into right now, a sharp-tongued asshole taking it out on the wrong person. What you hate the most is that you canât fucking stop.Â
The bathroom line isnât long, girls around you in outfits much too dressy for a dive bar, at least for your tastes. Fresh blowouts, mini-skirts, heeled boots on their feet, it didnât match the dollar bills stapled to the beams on the ceiling or the vintage pin-ball machine, nor the heavy rock music slamming into your ears or half the men here who wore leather on leather.Â
They look beautiful, every single one of them. You hate that youâre sour because you donât look just like them. Standing slouched, shoulders inward, their stomachs still flat, their legs crossed, not a sign of cellulite peeking from beneath their mini-skirts, it was nauseating. Theyâre younger than you, that youâre sure of, but damn, did you look like that even at their age? You canât remember, or your mind refuses you even a moment of reprieve.Â
Your chin tilts upward until your eyes are on the ceiling. Itâs jealousy, insecurity, youâre too self-aware for your mind to imprison you like thisâ itâs utterly and completely unfair.Â
You listen as they share lip gloss and take pictures with their digital cameras while youâre in the stall, talking about who-kissed-who and whoâs-leaving-with-who tonight. Your mouth tastes like bile, so disgustingly jealous it makes you sick, until you leave the bathroom to be met with a face that was last on your list of people to see tonight.Â
âOh my God, itâs been so long.â Jihyo, a friend youâve known since college, one of the most beautiful women youâve ever known, one of the most beautiful women on the planet, probably. If coming here was lighting a matchstick, seeing her was throwing yourself into the fucking fire.
You give her a tight, short hug, forcing yourself to ignore how tiny she feels in your arms, âOnly a few months, I thought.â
Her laughter, her smile, easily found compared to the one plastered on your lips, forced out of your mouth. You canât imagine the things sheâs thinking right now, what disappointed thoughts are on her mindâ
âA few months too long, you look fucking incredible,â she gives you a one-over and youâre lucky there isnât alcohol in your system yet, you might have emptied your stomach right there.
âShut up,â you shake your head, cheeks beginning to cramp from your fake-ass smile. âYou never change. Like, genetically perfect, I think.â
She smacks your arm, giggling, âPlease." She tilts her head, "Have you seen Jongho? Heâs somewhere around here, I think.â
âMaybe heâs with Yunho or Mingi, theyâre up by the bar somewhere.â
âIâm gonna go look for him, Iâm in dire need of a cig.â
You part ways easily, youâre praying Yunho has a drink for you. Finding your boyfriends was simple, their heads popping up over everyone elseâs, up by the bar where you left one of them. A cocktail in Mingiâs hand, a beer in Yunhoâs, a matching cocktail for you in Yunhoâs other hand. You could cry from the sheer relief of tequila in your sights.
âThere she is,â Mingiâs eyes drape over your figure, hunger incarnate, a brain thatâs never not directly in the gutter. âCanât believe how fucking sexy you look, I need to rip those jeans off of you.â
Ignoring him, you take the clear plastic cup from Yunhoâs hand, forgoing the straw as you suck down a few chugs, enough to where both of their eyebrows raise with comedic timing you couldnât appreciate. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, blinking at them, âWhat?â
âNothing,â they respond simultaneously, heads shaking.Â
âI saw Jihyo.â Your eyes are bouncing around the bar again in self-preservation. âSheâs here with Jongho.â
âThat means theyâre all here,â Yunhoâs grin widens, his eyes already leading to the backdoor.Â
âShall we go?â Mingi looks at Yunho, then to you, but you both wait for Yunhoâs nod before you begin for the lionâs den. Youâre chugging down more tequila, waiting patiently for the burn of ease to spread from your tummy to your limbs, needing something to hit before you push the heavy steel door open to the frigid air behind it.Â
Everyone howls upon seeing your boyfriends, all loud laughs and wide grins, hands smacking together and fists pounding against backs. Everyone greets you kindly, side hugs, kisses pressed to your cheek from the girls, all of whom look stupidly gorgeous. Jongho, Wooyoung, Yeosang, their girlfriends Jihyo, Sana and Tzuyu. San and Jongin, Hongjoong and Seonghwa, it was a spur of the moment family reunion that you didnât want to be at, but no one would have a clue.Â
You think Yunho has caught on by now.Â
How your smile only appears when someone addresses you directly, how you decline each offer of a smoke despite liquor in your system, only adding to the conversation with small, meaningless words. He pulls you inside under the guise of your already-empty drink, long fingers wrapped around your forearm, eyebrows knitted together in concern, âWhatâs going on with you?â
The music pounds over your words. âI told you Iâm fine, Yunho.â
âAnd I know youâre not,â his voice is harsh, clean-cut, demanding the truth. âAre you just acting like a fucking brat because I dragged you out of the house?â
âNo, Yuââ
âWe havenât been out in months, and I wanted to see our friends. Iâm asking you for one night, a few hours, and you canât even give me that?â
Oh, your face burns. Your ears had been dipped in fire. Thereâs a tightness in your chest that feels inescapable, of embarrassment, of guilt, of genuine fucking sadness that he thinks youâd do that, act like that, just because you werenât getting your way.Â
âItâs not that, Yunho, I swearââ
âThen what is it?â Heâs reading your face, trying to see into your mind, trying to gauge some kind of truth other than the one heâs concluded on his own.Â
âGive me your flannel,â you say bluntly, skipping past the explanation, straight to what would make you feel better in the moment. What would ease you enough so you could pretend better.
He blinks at you. You stand your ground, despite your voice cracking, âGive me your flannel, Yunho.â
Heâs silent for a second, âWhy do you want myââ
âYou can wear one of Mingiâs jackets, or mine, I donât care, just give me the fucking flannel, Yunho.â
His eyebrows furrow, sliding it off his shoulders, you hand him your empty drink as you unzip the bomber, trading your jacket for his flannel; oversized on him, it swallows you. A thick, wool dress your jeans peek out of, it settles half the unease in your tummy, being hidden beneath his clothes.
âBaby, why?â He looks confused, concerned, voice small and curious.Â
âI felt exposed,â you shrug it off. âThis is better.â
Mingi barrels inside, his drink empty too, his grin lazy and stamped on his face like this was the best night of his life. It disappears when he sees the two of you. Your heart churns.
âWhat goes on?â He asks, brows furrowing, coming in close, looking between the two of you. âDid you come inside to play Dress To Impress? Nice outfit change.â
âNo,â you reply instantly, shaking your head, usually youâd laugh, smile, at least. âI just need another drink.â
Yunho seems like heâs still calculating. Blinking, eyes glazed over like he was putting pieces together in his head. After a moment, he looks at Mingi, âWeâre leaving.â
Mingi pouts, a whine escaping him, âWhy? I was just coming in to get another drink and take a leak.â
âNo weâre not,â you shake your head, eyes pleading to Yunho who had already made his decision. âIâm sorry, I didnât mean for this to become a thing, itâs fine. We can stay.â
âWhat do you mean a thing?â Mingiâs confused now, head bobbing back and forth, âWhat became a thing? Tell me the thing. Are you okay, baby? Did something happen?â
âItâs fine, Min.â You pull away in the direction of the bar, grabbing Mingiâs wrist to drag him along in escaping the mess you created. âLetâs get another drink.â
âI said weâre going home.â
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You hated when he used that voice on you, the edge of dominance, so unyielding and clear your back straightened on command, body stopping mid-movement, heart plummeting to the base of your gut. Like a spell, or maybe you were just a well-trained dog, when Yunho used that voice, you fucking listened.Â
âSay your goodbyes and get in the car.â
You had tears in your eyes by the time you made it to the passengerâs seat of Yunhoâs Acura. Knees touching, hands folded on top of your jacket in your lap, staring out the window, pretending like your guilt wasnât eating you alive. You donât know why it bothered you so heavily tonight, something you carry with you all the time, you canât pinpoint why it made you so ugly tonight out of all nights. You didnât behave like that usually, you were far better at hiding it, you kept the feelings on a tight leash so this wouldnât happen.Â
Mingi hummed along to Yunhoâs radio the entire ride home, you werenât sure if he was oblivious, or waiting for the explosion. You werenât sure how to get out of this without exposing yourself completely, without telling them the truth. Youâve never really had to lie to them before.
Nervous. You didnât want to lie, but you didnât want to tell them the truth, either. Yunho didnât speak until after he locked your front door behind him.Â
âTell me whatâs wrong, and be honest. Please.âÂ
He didnât sound mad. Your eyes peeked up at this, surprise written on your face when youâre met with Yunho who looked upset. Scared. Hurt, even. You couldnât put your finger on it.Â
âI just didnât like my outfit, thatâs all,â your voice is shaky, high-pitched. You donât know when you became such a shit liar.Â
His hands are on your waist at the obvious deceit, guiding you forward until your back is pressed against Mingi, the three of you conjoined in your foyer, barely inside your apartment yet. His head leans down to press his forehead against yours, his voice soft, âCome on, baby, tell me the truth. I know you like the back of my hand, thereâs no point in lying.âÂ
You attempt to swallow down the tightness in your throat that was beginning to crawl up again. Your bottom lip poking out, your voice cracked as you said, âI donât know how to say it to you.âÂ
His hands slide upward until theyâre cupping your cheeks, Mingiâs hands settle on your hips, tucking you inside a bubble of them. The two people who have never made you feel less than, the loves of your fucking life, who love you just as much as you love them. Knowing you could lean on them for support but being too fucking insecure to do it is like two different halves of you fighting, teeth and claws bared.Â
âI donât look like Jihyo,â you blurt, and the sob that follows is harsh. The rest is a jumble of words, barely audible from your sobs that rip every syllable apart, but saying it out loud is somehow a weight off your chest. âI donât look like Jihyo, or Sana, or Tzuyu, or any of those fucking girls in that bar. I donât look the same as I looked at twenty-two and it makes me sick.âÂ
Yunhoâs answer comes after a second of thought, of looking deep into your eyes, after reaching into his well of information about you, telling him how to proceed. âDo you want me to say the shit you know Iâm gonna say?âÂ
You shake your head furiously, words rushed, âI know how you feel about me, I know you love me, I know you think Iâm beautiful. It just gets to me sometimes.âÂ
Mingiâs hands tighten on your hips, his head pressed to yours, holding you as close as he can without suffocating you. âCan we show you then?âÂ
You sniff, âHuh?âÂ
âCan we show you how much we love you, how beautiful we think you are, instead of telling you?â His breath is hot on your neck, his hands heavy on your hips. Yunhoâs still holding your cheeks with pleading eyes like heâd beg you to say yes if he needed to.Â
Your head starts to shake, a rebuttal on your lips, but Yunho steals the words from your mouth. Lips pressed to yours, heâs rough at first, pulling you down into submission, you fall in line easily, melting into his touch was routine.Â
âYou need this,â he whispers into your mouth, deepening the kiss, tongue slipping past your lips, and already you feel lighter.Â
Mingiâs head drops into the pocket of your neck, moving your hair out of the way so his lips can find the spot below your ear, âLet us worship you, baby. Show you how much we love this fuckinâ body.âÂ
His hands slide up to your chest, lips attaching to the sensitive spot on your neck, Yunhoâs tongue working your mouth open like heâs done a million times before. Thereâs emotion in Yunhoâs kiss, words you donât want him to say, each one on his tongue that dances with yours.Â
You sink into them, nails clawing into Yunhoâs forearms, back pressed into Mingiâs front as he holds you, kisses your skin like heâs burning his love for you into it. God, you fucking love them, you love them so much it hurts.Â
âCâmon,â Yunhoâs hands were under your ass before you noticed Mingi pulled away, picking you up with a motion much too easy. That alone has your mind short-circuiting, but he kisses you as he walks you to the bedroom, effectively shutting your brain off, a purposeful action.Â
They crawl on top of you, both of them, four hands in different places. On your cheek, your thigh, your waist, your neck, they take either side of you like they owned halves of you, your partners, your boyfriends, they owned all of you, both of them.Â
âSmell so fucking good,â Mingi groans into your neck, tongue flattening against your skin. âWanna eat you.âÂ
âNo idea how beautiful this body is,â Yunhoâs hand goes for his flannel over your chest. âYou have no idea how hard I get just by looking at you, baby.âÂ
You whimper, hips bucking into Mingiâs hand that lays against your thigh. He chuckles into your neck, âWeâll get there, baby, donât worry. Gonna treat our wife so good tonight.âÂ
Your tummy tumbles at wife, a moan slipping past your lips, they both catch it. Mingi chuckles into your neck, pulling the hand from your thigh to grab you by the chin to face him, âYou like that? Being called our wife?âÂ
You nod, brows furrowed, face already blown out in pleasure. Yunhoâs smiling as he unbuttons the flannel over your chest, met with the low-cut black top beneath, your chest spilling out of it. âFuck, we should make you a mommy.â
You clench around nothing, pooling in your panties by now, Mingi drinks up your moan as he presses his lips to yours, tongue slipping into your mouth like he needed your taste to keep himself focused. Hands splayed across your tummy, your chest, squeezing you through your bra, you didnât know whoâs hands were whoâs.Â
You quickly realized you didnât care when you were being pulled upward, flannel pushed off your shoulders, top pulled over your head. It was Mingi who unclasped your bra one-handed, he fastened it for you daily, took it off of you daily.Â
His lips wrapped around your peaked nipple, fingers toying with the other as your head knocked back against the mattress, a harsh hiss of pleasure pushing past your lips. Yunho was already at the button of your jeans, âAs much as I love these jeans on you baby, how they make your ass look, how it sways when you walk⊠shit, I need a picture of you in these.âÂ
âTake one,â you squeak, breathless, back arched under Mingiâs lips on your chest, squealing when his teeth graze your nipple.Â
âNext weekend,â Yunho commands, dragging your zipper down. âYouâll wear these again, and that strappy lilâ top I love.â
âFuck,â you huff, hips jerking into his touch.Â
âSo needy,â Yunho tsks. âAnd you were gonna say no, as if we donât know what you need.â
âTrust us, baby,â Mingiâs lips move back up your chest, sucking at the skin on the base of your neck. âWe know everything about you. Spent years learning and loving this beautiful body, figuring out that insanely intelligent mind of yours.â
âSmart and beautiful,â Yunhoâs thumbs tucked into the waistband of your jeans, tugging them over the curve of your ass. âFunny, too. Damn, Min, we really hit the jackpot, huh?âÂ
You can feel the breath of Mingiâs amusement on your neck, âSexy, smart, funny⊠pussy tastes so sweet, too. Maybe we will make you a mommy tonight.âÂ
You should be fucking embarrassed at the sound that leaves your lips. Pure, unbridled lust in the form of a strangled moan, everything in you was saying yes, please, do it.Â
âSo wet, these panties are stickinâ to you.â As if Yunho said the trigger word Mingi is pushing himself off your upper half, one veiny hand holding up your thigh, youâre just now noticing he lost his jackets, his hat.Â
His black tee clinging to him, face pink-kissed and splotchy, his dark eyes dilate as Yunho slides your panties to the side. Mingiâs face morphs in pleasure, both of them groaning, Yunho curses under his breath, âYouâre dripping, baby.â His eyes shoot up your body, meeting your gaze, âSo fucking beautiful, you wanna be a mommy that bad?â
âStop saying that,â you mutter, fingers twisting in the comforter beneath you, hips twitching. Mingi keeps you spread, strong fingers under your knee, thigh folded over your tummy. He leans down to throw it over his shoulder, a gasp leaving your lips when his tongue makes contact with your seam, a long, slick stripe between your folds. His moan bleeds into yours and Yunho sighs, sitting back on his calves, eyes glazed over as he watches Mingi between your legs.Â
âYou sound so pretty.â Heâs mindlessly speaking, eyes locked on your center, on Mingiâs tongue that flicks over your clit. Your hands are in his long hair, tugging at his roots, staggered breaths and whimpers leaving your lips.Â
âTaste so fuckinâ good,â Mingi grunts into your core, his breath hot against your folds, youâre squirming at the ghost of his lips on your clit.Â
Yunho bends down, spreading your legs impossibly farther, as if he wanted your knee to hit the mattress. The stretch feels good with Mingiâs mouth on you, even better as Yunho dips his head in too, two tongues on your cunt, lapping up every ounce of wetness, grunting and groaning like they were doing it for their own pleasure.Â
âYouââ your words come out through short, desperate breaths. âItâs too much.â
Ignoring you, someoneâs tongue is inside you, the otherâs lips around your clit, sucking, teeth grazing. Your moans grow louder, piercing the air of your shared bedroom, your belly filled with white-hot fire.Â
âIs our wifey gonna cum already?â Yunho, his voice honey-sweet. âWithout anything inside her?â
You nod, eyes slits, so squinted in pleasure you could barely see the two heads between your legs. Mingiâs lips stay wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly as Yunho keeps talking. âYou donât want my finger inside you? Curled just right, against that little spot inside you that makes you see stars?âÂ
âFuck, Yunho,â your hips are bucking against Mingiâs face, an orgasm you fear the intensity of on the brink of exploding. ââm gonna cum.â
âGonna cum on Mingiâs tongue? You want his fingers inside you, then? Theyâre thicker than mine, y'know, almost the size of that pink toy in the drawerâŠâ
Heâs teasing you and your body ignites, tummy churning, body locking up, he smiles. His long, middle finger prods your entrance, beneath Mingiâs tongue, curling in the way he said he would, the slight pressure against that spot inside you has you squeezing around his finger, pleasure exploding in your tummy, legs shaking as it spreads throughout each limb, every nerve ending.Â
âSo good for us,â Yunhoâs praise keeps your hips twitching, waves of pleasure exploding beneath your skin. âSo fuckinâ good, our good girl, there you go.â
He adds another finger, moving now, thrusting up inside you with a curve to his knuckle that has you seeing stars. Overstimulation hitting, you panic, nails clawing at his forearm, âYunho!â
Mingi breaks off your clit with a pop, licking his lips, watching how you gush around Yunhoâs fingers with dilated, focused eyes. âMake her cum again, just like that.âÂ
Mingiâs forearm holds down your hips, adding pressure on your lower tummy, the sounds that ripped from your gut were obscene. Guttural cries, not pretty ones, a song of how overwhelming it was to have your orgasm never truly end, cunt clenching around his fingers, pulsing and gushing against him.Â
âYou can do it, baby,â Mingi encourages, Yunhoâs brows locked in focus. âCâmon, give us another. Wanna see you all messy.â
âShitâ shit.â The weight of Mingiâs arm on your tummy, pressed against where Yunhoâs fingers curved inside of you, was too much. The pressure was too heavy. âI canât,â youâre shaking your head, voice high-pitched, âI canât, I canâtââ
âLet go,â Mingiâs voice is low, soaked in greed. âLet go for us, let yourself feel it, let us show you how much we love you.â
âLove you so fucking much,â Yunhoâs gasping, in awe at how their words make you clench. âWanna taste it, one more, câmon.â
Your fingers dig into Mingiâs arm over your tummy as the pressure blows again, this one just as intense as the first, if not more, your vision whiting out as Yunhoâs fingers work you through the eruption of scalding pleasure.Â
âFuck,â Mingiâs groan is edged with need. âIâm so fucking hard.â
âThought you were just a painslut, baby,â Yunho pops his fingers into his mouth when the aftershocks subsided. âDidnât think praise got you off like that, too.â
âSituational,â Mingiâs short reply is filled with amusement as he crawls up your twitching, spent body, hands immediately landing on your hips, squeezing your skin as his tongue sloppily slides into your mouth.
âNeed to be inside you,â he mumbles into your lips. âNeed to feel you clenching around me.â
Yunhoâs behind him, pulling him upward to tug his shirt over his head, grabbing him by the throat to turn his head to the side, attaching their lips like theyâd been waiting for this all night. Mingi sinks into his hips, head craning while Yunhoâs hands splay across his stomach, sliding upward, halting just to flick at his nipples.Â
Mingi moans into his mouth and Yunhoâs hands drop again to palm him through his jeans, unbuttoning them, pulling the zipper town, dropping the denim just enough so his brief-covered cock pokes out. Your mouth waters, heat flooding you all over again as you watch Mingiâs body arch and twitch under Yunhoâs long fingers, strong hands.Â
Yours. The reminder was still dizzying.Â
Mingi moans as Yunho pulls his cock out, giving it a few harsh tugs, the crimson tip leaking with precum, just enough for Yunho to smear along his length, twisting his wrist. Your hand drops between your legs, rubbing at your clit softly, overstimulation still thrumming in the bundle of nerves.Â
âSo fucking big,â you mumble mindlessly, lips parted, your other hand toying with one of your nipples.Â
Yunhoâs eyes open to watch you, smirk tugging at his lips, âYou want it? Want him inside you, baby?â
âWanna be full,â you donât meet his eye, gaze locked on Mingiâs clenching abdomen, how Yunho expertly fists his cock. âWant both of you, need both of you inside.â
Yunhoâs brows raise, even Mingiâs eyes widen at that. Mingi reiterates, âBoth of us?â
As if it were the first time. You nod, floaty, âMhm.â
Yunho lets Mingi go to undress himself, Mingi kicks his pants off his feet as he pulls you toward him by your ankles, your ass almost meeting his knees. Kneeling, he pulls you up by your wrists until you have your own legs tucked under you, easily picking you up onto his lap. âGod, this body is so fucking sexy, baby. Canât wait to fill you up, make your belly all plump.â
You whine, forehead falling onto his shoulder, âStop saying that.â
âWhy would I when it makes your pussy so creamy?â Heâs smiling, smirking, you can hear it in his voice. âYou wanna be nice nâ full just as bad, donât you? Want me to fuck you full of my kids?â
âHoly shit,â you mumble under your breath, body twitching in his hold while he explores every inch of your exposed skin, fingers following every line, every curve, each touch imprinting his love for you.Â
âItâs okay, baby,â he kisses the side of your head. âDonât be embarrassed. Sit on my cock, lemme fill you up, câmon.â
He grabs at the skin of your ass to move you, lining you up with his cock, you hold onto his shoulders for leverage as his tip catches on your entrance, a choked moan already tumbling from your lips.Â
âHavenât even put it in yet and youâre moaning like a bitch in heat,â he teases, catching your lips in a quick kiss. âYou gonna survive Yunho, too?âÂ
Yunhoâs warm hands are on your hips, his presence behind you like a shadow, guiding you down onto Mingiâs length. The air punches from your lungs in a tight squeak, heâs so fucking big, he fills you up so perfectly, the feeling is dizzying.Â
Yunhoâs lips are on your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin as Mingi bottoms out, sheathed inside you deliciously. Your breath catches in your throat, tight, heat flooding every sense, every limb, tears swell in your waterline.Â
âCrying already,â Mingiâs talking to Yunho, his voice tight. âPretty baby wants two cocks and canât even handle one.â
You clench and he hisses, Yunho chuckles from behind you. âYou canât handle her pussy, either.â
âLetâs see how you fare balls-deep in her ass,â Mingi bites back and youâre swimming, mind fuzzy while they talk about you like youâre not there. Not human. Just theirs, to take, to bend, to fill, you didnât have to think if you didnât want to. You didnât need to.Â
You start moving, pleasure-soaked whimpers escaping as you bounce along the length of his cock, head falling forward onto Mingiâs shoulder again. You can hear the bottle of lube open behind you, but you pay no mind; the sound of Yunho slicking up his fingers, his cock, it's all above what your brain can materialize.Â
It was just you, feeling so full, feeling so loved, Mingiâs cock buried inside of you, curved to drag against the spot inside you, youâre babbling into his shoulder. âSo fucking good, Mingi, I love you, I love you.âÂ
Yunhoâs coated finger swirls around your entrance and youâre arching at the feeling, body a livewire, heâs pressed to your back in a moment. âColor,â he orders, and the strike of dominance has you searching your mind for structure, you werenât in a scene, but he could tell your mind was going fuzzy.Â
âGreen,â you find clarity, the system youâve put into place years ago slamming into the forefront of your mind.Â
âGood, breathe,â he reminds you, fingertip prodding at your entrance, you suck in a deep breath, clenching around Mingiâs length. âMy good girl, just breathe,â his chin is tucked into your neck, his other hand moving your hair out of the way, fingers pulling strands from your temple, your cheek. His lips press against your jaw as you suck down a breath, he sinks his finger deeper as you exhale, the sound verbal, laced with a cry. âLet me in, baby. You know what to do, you can stop thinking soon, I promise.â
Your eyes flutter closed, nails drawing crescents into Mingiâs shoulders, jaw slack as you try to remember. Letting your body relax, to be open for him, pliant, he hums into your neck. âJust like that, good girl, doing so, so good for me. Love this body, love what she can do for me, look at you.âÂ
âSo fucking beautiful, holy shit,â Mingiâs praise is added to the mix and youâre pushing against Yunhoâs finger, taking him deeper, silently asking for more. Yunho adds another and youâre keeling, body shaking, if it werenât for Mingiâs strong hands on your hips youâd be jelly. His cock jumps inside you and he hisses, fingers squeezing the plush on your sides, ââm sorry baby, fuck, youâre so wet, feels so fucking good.â
You hum, itâs all you can manage, so full, so brainless. You use the last bit of your strength to utter, âMore.âÂ
Yunho moves his fingers and you can hear how slick you are around Mingiâs cock, grinding against him so dirty, meeting Yunhoâs thrusts, Mingiâs whining into your ear. âFuck, fuck, so tight, so wet. I donât know if I can last like this.â
âYou can,â Yunho breathes. âYou will. You donât cum until I say so.â
Mingiâs hips buck into you and a strained noise escapes you. He curses, voice taut, ragged with pleasure, âFeels so fucking good, Yunho, she feels so good.â
âI know baby,â Yunho leans over your shoulder to find Mingiâs lips in a messy kiss. âYou can do it, I wonât last long inside, either. Body fuckinâ carved for us, made for us to fill.â
Youâre alight again, pulsing against them, moving faster, taking them deeper. They both moan, cradling you between them, but Yunho speaks, âReady for my cock? You want it?â You nod, nonsensical babbles uttered from your lips, and Yunho laughs. âOh, sheâs gone. Iâll fill you up, baby.â
His fingers leave your ass and you clench again, impatience on your tongue, fingertips drumming along Mingiâs skin. Yunho lines himself up and you hold your breath instinctively, bracing yourself, he reminds you with a light smack to your hip to breathe.Â
You choke on a moan as he begins pushing inside, colorful words ripped from your throat at the stretch, Mingi already so deep inside you, Yunhoâs full length meeting him, a thin wall separating them. Theyâre both groaning, staggered breaths of pleasure, curses, your sounds blend together in the open air of your bedroom, a song of coinjointness; it was a beautiful feeling, the three of you connected so deeply, you didnât know where one of you began and the other started anymore, it was the best youâve ever felt.Â
Nothing could ever feel better than this.Â
âI love you,â youâre whispering, croaking. âFuck, I love you.â
Mingi catches your lips as Yunho casts his love into your back, lips pressed to your skin as he starts moving. Mingi moving with him, youâre suspended between them for the taking, whatever they wanted, youâd give them. You trust them. You love them.Â
âSo tight,â youâve never heard Yunho so out of it, his voice lagged, layered with pleasure and awe.Â
âI can feel you,â Mingiâs gasping, tongue swiping along your bottom lip. âYou feel so good, you both feel so good, âm close.â
They pick up speed, finding a rhythm with one another, you at their mercy, taking it all. You lean back into Yunhoâs chest and his lips find your mouth, cock splintering inside you as he licks inside your mouth, Mingiâs lips finding your chest. You feel the curl of heat then, a greater pressure, pushing against their cocks like you wanted them out. You needed them to stay in.Â
âSheâs close,â Mingi uttered, tongue held straight out to flick against your nipple that bounced with your body, knowing your body all too well. Yunho breaks away from your mouth to slide his palm over your throat, without pressure, keeping you steady.Â
âSo am I,â Yunho replies, sounding ragged, close to the edge. âWant us to fill you up, baby? Wanna be so full of us?â
Your eyes open to Mingi smiling, âWant me to make you a mommy? Fill this lilâ pussy up?â
Your face contorts in pleasure, mouth opening without sound. His face matches yours, but he keeps talking, âYou want it, donât you? Want your tummy so pretty nâ round, fuckâ so sexy, so pregnant, wanna see your pussy dripping with my cum, tell me you want it, babyââ
âFill me up,â your words are slurred, tasting your orgasm on your tongue. âYes, give it to me. Give me a baby, give me more, fill me up.â
Yunhoâs grunt is obscenely lewd, âFuck, you two are insane. Iâm gonna cum, cum with me, please, câmon.â
The pressure blows, tears streaking your cheeks as you slide limply forward, slugging against Mingiâs chest, both of their names a cry on your lips. Mingi keeps a strong arm around your back as he fucks you through it, his hips staggered, Yunhoâs skin slapping against yours with such strength youâre slamming into Mingi, at their mercy completely.Â
âIâm cumming,â Mingi says in a whimper, hips rocking into you, fucking himself through it, prolonging your orgasm as he fills you with warmth, long ropes of his release, drool dribbling out of his mouth onto your shoulder.
Yunhoâs right behind him, a strained moan leaving him that only escapes when heâs finishing, emptying himself inside you, hips slowing down as he fucks himself through it. He leans forward just to lick up the drool that slipped from Mingiâs mouth, his tongue on your back makes you shudder.Â
Theyâre quick to pull out, to lay you flat on your back, to assess your body like theyâd done open heart surgery. Youâre swallowing down nothing, licking your dry lips, mind fuzzy, so in love as you stare at them hovering over you, concern mixed within the sweat on their brows.Â
Praise is a waterfall from their mouths, a mantra of you did so fucking good, youâre so beautiful, I love you, you took us so well⊠Youâre smiling, a lazy, tired grin, reaching for them, they nuzzle up to you as soon as your arms move.Â
One on your left, the other on your right, both facing you, bodies so fucking hot you almost hate it, but their closeness makes you smile. Youâre safe between them, your partners, your boyfriends, who always take care of you. Theyâd do anything to make you happy. Theyâd do anything to make you feel better.Â
You finally talk after a long while, finding solace in Yunhoâs fingers dancing along your tummy, Mingiâs face pressed into your hair. âSince when do you want me pregnant?âÂ
Mingi snorts, Yunho huffs amusement through his nose. Mingi responds, voice loud in your ear from his closeness, âSix kids, three by both of us. Three boys, three girls.âÂ
Yours and Yunhoâs heads both turn, blinking at him, surprise on both of your faces. Mingi giggles, rolling onto his back, âIâm just kidding, geez.â
It makes you laugh, an ache in your sore abdomen, their cum leaks at the clench of your muscles. You gasp, hips arching before it meets your baby pinkl comforter, rolling over onto Yunhoâs leg, âIâm leaking, please carry me.â
âThe comforterâs already ruined,â Yunho scoops you up into his arms. âIâll change it while youâre in the shower.â
âNo,â you cling to him, arms around his neck as he wraps a strong arm under your knees. âStay with me. Donât go.â
Mingi follows you in, your second shared shower of the day, letting the steaming water melt off the embarrassment and shame you felt earlier, basking in the warmth of both of them holding you, washing you, their hands on you. There was love in every touch, appreciation in each stroke of their fingers, in how they massaged your head, lathered up your supple skin, kissed you in between movements. The shower was quiet, silent, but there wasnât a need for words, for reassurance. Their presence, their touch was enough.Â
They love you just as you are, you didnât need anyone else to see you how they saw you. You needed them, and them only, and they needed you, too. Â
