you and hongjoong wrapped in a passionate embrace, your tits rubbing against his chest and your tongues tangled together as he steadily thrusts between your thighs, gripping your waist and ass as you both groan into each other’s mouths. the feeling of his slick cock rubbing right up against your clit, so close to just slipping inside where you need him most, drives you mad and you shake your hips, squeezing your thighs tighter around him in the hopes that he’ll fuck you properly soon.

soft moans fall from seonghwa’s lips as he watches you get yourself off on him, grinding your dripping pussy on his cock and making him cum, spurts of white painting your stomach as you help him through his high. frantically slipping his cock inside of you and grinding and bouncing on him until you come, your juices flowing out around him and dripping onto the sheets as you come down, playing with your clit.

yunho can hardly wait for you to get through your front door before he’s pulling off your tight black dress and slipping your panties to the side so he fuck you over the countertop, your leg lifted for better access and his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts into you, relishing in the sound of your sweet moans and the feeling of your tight little pussy clenching around him.

yeosang takes his time teasing you, rubbing you through your pajama pants before he slips them off to get access to your bare pussy. he slowly spreads your lips apart and takes a moment to admire, smiling softly when you start whining for him to give you something more. he gives in to your sweet pleas and spits straight into your hole before sitting up and grabbing his cock, grinding it against your aching clit and sighing in relief.

san couldn’t have been more thrilled that you let him have you like this, bent over and slicked up for him. he strokes himself a few times before easing himself into your pink, puckered hole, gently thrusting and pushing his heavy cock further and further into you, groaning at the feeling of fucking your ass for the first time. you can’t hold back the soft moans spilling from your lips as you reach back and spread yourself wider for him as the pace of his hips grows quicker.

mingi slips an arm under your leg, hitching it up to give him a better angle to pound his fat cock into you, bodies pressed close together as your exchange messy kisses, tongues tangling and spit slipping down between your chins. he can’t help but grab at your hips tight enough to bruise as you slide up the bed from the force of his thrusts, the pleasure nearly overwhelming him as he grinds into your wet heat.

playing with wooyoung’s cock through his shorts, his thumb slipping into your mouth, making your eyes flutter as you glance up at him and suck, tightening your fist over him before letting go and letting him slip his pants down, freeing his heavy cock. spitting on it and slipping him into your mouth, taking your time giving him head while he sweetly strokes your hair, your back, grabs at your ass and groans in pleasure.

your desperate moans are like music to jongho’s ears as he fingers you, twisting and pumping his fingers into you at a lazy pace and smirking down at your writhing figure beneath him. the way you squirm and grasp at your own thighs in pleasure makes his ego soar, head feeling fuzzy as he revels in the feeling of your tight, wet heat wrapped around him. teasing you, he pulls his fingers out and lifts them to your mouth for you to suck clean.

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Wooyoung wraps his hand around his hard cock and swipes the tip with his fingers, whines escaping his throat “w-wanna feel you.” You grinned on the other side of the phone as if he could see “oh? Is that what you called me for? No hello, no good afternoon?”

“S-sorry,,just….” His voice trails off “you’re okay baby, just keep touching that pretty cock for me, you’re doing so good already.” Wooyoung relaxed on the couch, his shirt drawn up with the hem between his teeth, face flushed and hair pushed out of his face. He could’ve FaceTimed you but the idea of you not being able to see how dirty he was being but instructing him was so delicious.

He shuffled a bit to get his pants down some more “touch your nipples for a bit darling, no touching your cock.” He whines “but..” “trust me sweetheart it’s only gonna make you feel even better.” After some bratty protesting woo let’s go of his cock, fingers pinching and pulling on his nipples. The sensation sent shockwaves below and he couldn’t help but groan “y/n…mm so…just….” “What’s the matter your dumb little brain can’t think of a coherent sentence? Speak up baby.”

“Just miss you..wanna be inside you so bad.” Woo was fantasizing about being inside of your dripping hole as you ride him till he’s dry and has nothing left to give. “Soon baby..soon, now go ahead touch your cock for me.” Without hesitation Wooyoung begins to jerk off again, his hand wrapped tightly around his pent up cock. His free hand playing around with his nipples, even sometimes brushing his finger over his hole to keep the excitement. This wasn’t enough, but it’ll have to do for now.

“Gonna come..” you listened to his desperate moans over the phone, tempted to touch yourself but what’s the fun in that? It’s better to keep yourself waiting for the real thing to happen in person. “Go ahead darling, make a mess of yourself.”

You can hear his moans getting more needier, then the sound of shuffling and you can only assume that he must’ve came. Woo feeling exhausted throws his head back, his hand covered in cum.

level 2 ♡ ♡

Wooyoung had you locked in place in his lap for over an hour, warmth emanating from his chest against your back, his thighs positioned in a way that kept yours spread apart, routinely smacking his palm against your swollen clit and fucking your slick cunt with only the tip of his throbbing cock. The small, pathetic whimpers you made as soon as his hand came in contact with your stinging cunt and the sound of your hole squelching each time he stretched you open again was like music to his ears, but he knew what you really needed. His low, breathy voice sent a wave of goosebumps up the slope of your neck when he cooed, “Awwh, does my sweet girl need to cum now? Does she deserve to? Hmm?~”

“Yes, please, Youngie, let me cum,” you pleaded, about to melt into Wooyoung as soon as he began to lower you further and further down onto his cock, filling you up so good you thought you might cum then and there. “Fuck me, please, oh my god, fuck me–”

“Mm, you’re already so desperate for my cock that you’re begging for it?” Wooyoung rubbed his thumb around your clit, before his fingers formed a V, sliding them up and down your cunt around the outline of his slick cock that was still pushing inside you ever so slowly. “You need it inside this pretty pussy that bad?”

“Yes, Youngie, I need your cock so bad, I can’t take it!”

Then, be a good girl for me and take it all,” he grunted in your ear, immediately slamming his hips into yours, his thrusts unrelenting, not giving you any choice but to take his thick, veined cock deep inside your cunt until he decided you had enough.

“Ah– ah – it’s too – fuck,” you gasped, your body seizing up with overwhelming pleasure after being teased for so long, tears forming in your eyes from the sight of his cock protruding slightly through your lower stomach each time he filled you up. “Too much.”

Wooyoung tsked, squeezing your clit roughly between two fingers, making you shudder. “Don’t you start whining now. What happened to the desperate little slut that was asking for this just a second ago?” He sent a harsh smack to your clit, amused by the barely audible sound that left your drooling mouth. “You’re going to cum just like this, and you’re going to like it.”

“Youngie, please,” you choked out, turning your head to look up at him through teary eyes, only to find pure carnal desire in his.

Wooyoung smiled darkly, licking at the mole on his bottom lip, his fingers pressing into the bulge present in your abdomen just to feel his throbbing cock as it sank inside you over and over again. “You asked for it, so I’m going to make you cum so hard you forget your own name. Sounds good, yeah?”

level 3 ♡ ♡ ♡

“Can I cum, sir? Please? I’ve been so good for you, so can I please–fuck!” you gasped, withstanding yet another smack directly onto your reddened cunt, a fresh wave of arousal leaking out of you.

San, who was in between your thighs, taking his sweet time devouring your cunt, wasn’t in the mood for your games. “A good girl waits for her reward, isn’t that right, you little brat?”

“I’m not a brat,” you whined, squeezing your thighs together to squish his cheeks a bit, letting out a giggle, knowing you were withholding San from his meal. This encouraged him to grab your legs by the bend of your knees and lift your thighs up, folding you in half.

“Oh, yes, you are.” San leaned down, licking one long, slow stripe up from your dripping hole to your puffy clit, grabbing your hands to make you hold your own thighs up, which you obediently did, this time around. “You know what else you are, princess?”

“What, Sannie?”

San pressed his thumbs against your folds to spread you apart for him, watching your hole flutter around nothing. “You’re my dumb little slut.” He pursed his lips and spat directly into you, before plugging your cunt back up with his thick, thrusting fingers, satisfied with the sudden moan that tore through your throat. He gave you a fake pout. “Aren’t you, baby?”

You were at your limit, only able to take what he gave you, your mouth open in a soundless bout of pleasure, your teary eyes focused on San’s smug face, taking yet another finger inside you, feeling it rubbing against your gummy spot.

“I asked you a question, princess,” San grunted, smacking his free hand down onto your clit, more slick dripping down his taut, veiny forearm, eliciting more breathless moans and whines from you, still finger-fucking you so brutally to the point that all you could focus on was the shlick shlick shlick sounds your pussy made each time he pounded his digits into you. “Can you even hear me? That look on your face is telling me otherwise. How are you already fucked stupid when I haven’t even stuffed my cock inside you, huh? Are you that much of a whore that all you need is to get your puffy little cunt filled and spat on, and you’re ready to cream yourself?”

“Yes, sir…!” you were finally able to verbalize, your voice strained with immense pleasure, your thighs beginning to shake. “I’m such a whore for you, Sannie, only for you, so please, let me cum.”

San simply smiled up at you, dimples forming near his pretty, pink, arousal-covered lips, immediately curling his fingers up into a come-hither motion, his mouth latching onto your abused clit, sucking and licking at it with his hot tongue relentlessly until your moans crescendoed and your warm squirt began to pour out of you. “That’s it, baby, that’s fucking it, oh my god, look at you…”

San groaned heavily, taking a moment to suck your cum off of his fingers, before diving in between your trembling legs again to press his mouth back onto your spasming cunt like he needed it for oxygen, dragging his tongue up and down your slit to collect your arousal, slurping it up into his mouth, his dark, hooded eyes never leaving your barely open ones. He took a second to breathe, before speaking, his voice ragged and dripping with arousal, “I’ll give you a minute to come down, but get ready, angel. You’re gonna keep cumming for me just like that, and I’m only gonna stop when you have nothing left to give me, alright?”

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Another day dragging on for far too long, tedious — incompetent employees getting paid to induce headaches rather than doing their jobs, new clients unaware of who they’d gotten themselves involved with, augmenting the torturous panging against San’s skull. His eyebrow twitched, a bead of sweat hanging onto the thick hairs, another trailing down the ink decorating his slick chest. He’d thought a late-night rendezvous would silence the ringing in his head, but the cheap perfume, the bright lipstick, the obnoxious, high-pitched tone of her voice only amplified it. And yet, the woman now laid beneath him, his fingers digging into one of her tits while pornographic moans rolled off her tongue. With her head thrown back, she missed the grimace painting San’s features, but his hips were undeterred, continuing their ruthless rhythm while her ringing voice pierced through his eardrums. He just needed release, even if it were aided by a woman he had not a lick of interest in.

The door cracked open, a bleached head of hair peeking into the hotel room before his tall frame followed to stand in the doorway. San didn’t stop, simply shutting his eyes to drown out his surroundings and the pain shooting through his head.

“We’ve got trouble, boss,” the gravelly tone dragged San’s attention away from the distractions he attempted to draw up in his mind, eyes cracking open with an irked exhale.

“Important enough for you to interrupt me?” he spat, his thrusts now pointed in aggravation.

The man’s gulp masked under the continuous moans, he averted his gaze off the woman’s spread legs to explain, “a fight broke out in our Seoul location.”

San’s rhythm faltered, an unnoticeable hitch, but enough to stir up images of a familiar face, sly grin and confident walk followed by the sweet scent of vanilla and cheap tobacco. A subtle wink as you replaced the drinks his men had ordered for him with ones that would spare him the added flush, ears and chest tinted a dusty pink while he fought off the heaviness weighing down his eyelids. Sultry voice and swaying hips, the memory of fleeting touches and fluttering eyelashes sent urgent waves of heat scorching through San’s body, unwanted, vivid images of your haunting form flashing in his mind before he could stop them. But he pushed them away, prominent vein trailing down his forehead as he fought off the unrelieved headache, slapping a palm over smudged, red-tinted lips to muffle the agitating sound.

“Is that all, Mingi-ya?” he moved his gaze to the man at his side without twisting his head, watching as he straightened up at the sudden eye-contact.

“We’ve got casualties, Sir,” Mingi added, drawing a frustrated sigh out of San.

Pistoning his hips once, twice more, he pulled out, swiping his saliva-coated palm over the woman’s trembling thigh before finding his footing over the carpeted floor. He tossed the condom into some random corner, tucking himself back into his pants before snatching the luxury coat dangling from Mingi’s hand, the taller man’s eyes flitting to the side to avoid ogling at all the exposed skin. Just as they were about to take their leave, manicured fingers grasped San’s sleeve, arms drawn closer to her body to cram her breasts together in an act of seduction, bedroom eyes peering up at the tattooed man.

“Are you just going to leave me here like this?”

San didn’t hide his grimace, “it’s late, go home,” he retrieved his coat, tugging his arm away rougher than intended to make his way to the room’s exit. He paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly to address the dejected woman abandoned on the lush, silk bedsheets, “and call your husband back, he must be worried sick.”

He didn’t wait for a response, walking into the hallway to meet with two more guards, Mingi following closely behind. “Jongho, you’re coming with me,” he addressed the broader of the two, then turned to the other, “and you,” he angled his chin towards the door left ajar, “get rid of her.”

--

Walking past the swung-open door resting against the frame with broken hinges, glass shards cracking underneath heavyset boots, San took in the scattered bodies splayed out over the wooden floor. He grimaced, thousands of dollars’ worth of imported liquor pooling under shattered bottles, blending into a concoction reeking of alcohol poisoning. Bullets lodged into the polished bar reflected the orange hue in which the room basked in, stools broken and thrown into the walls and windows, splintered pieces of wood lying amongst the lifeless figures scattered over the floorboards.

“What a mess,” Mingi muttered, taking in the scene with repugnance unhidden in his expression.

“Looks exactly like something the both of you would do,” San’s retort was instant, “wasn’t it just last week, Jongho?”

His tone was void of any judgement, simply recalling his men’s afternoon endeavors, and yet, Jongho’s ears flashed red as he stuttered through a flustered response, reaffirming San’s memory of the incident. His eyes shot a glare up at the taller man as soon as San looked away, “just keep your mouth shut, Mingi-ya,” he elbowed his side, unappreciative of Mingi’s attempts at earning him another lecture about the improper use of his gun.

While the two bickered wordlessly, pinching and shoving the other’s side, San walked further into the bar, looking around for another sign of life while gnawing at his bottom lip, evidence of his night-long rendezvous trickling down his temples in salty beads of sweat.

“Where’s our staff?” his voice cut through the silence, as well as the guards’ banter, the two straightening up to address his inquiry.

“Changbin called it in, ‘said most were okay but a few got caught in the crossfire,” Mingi spoke, tone steady and hooded eyes focused on San, “they’ve all left already, I believe.”

“You believe?” Narrowing his eyes at the two men, he snarled before huffing in umbrage. “I don’t pay you to fucking believe.” It wasn’t Mingi’s doing, he knew, but he’d rather berate the two men before him than admit to the anxiety crawling up his chest, blocking his airway with a lump large enough to restrict his breathing. “Did he say anything about—” he attempted to maintain the resonance in which he spoke in, clearing his throat before proceeding, “what about—”

“—Looking for me?”

A sharp turn to his side was all it took to ease the tension stiffening his shoulders, a deep breath escaping his lungs when his eyes settled on you: hand on your hip while leaning you weight onto one leg, the corners of your glossy lips upturned into a smile that sent his heart racing.

“Y/n,” he sighed, rotating his body to face yours, arms limp at his sides while his features softened at the mere sight of you before him. Choi San with his guard down was a luxury not many could revel in.

“What’s with your face? Don’t tell me you were worried about me?” you teased, swaying your hips as you took a few steps towards his broad form, only a few inches separating your bodies where you were stood now.

Close enough to run a hand over the hair covering the side of your head, San’s lips curled into a playful smirk, “oh baby, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hummed pleasantly at the gentle fingers gliding over your scalp, teeth digging into your bottom lip before releasing to purr back a response, “very much so.”

The aroma of cheap cigarettes followed you, laced with hints of vanilla and caramel, the specs of ash dusting the sunken collar of your top exposing the smoke break you’d taken while chaos unfolded during your late shift.

The bullets lodged into wood glimmered in his peripheral, and his amusement dwindled as he pushed through the intoxicating haze your proximity cast upon his senses. Eyebrows furrowed, his gaze traveled over your body while firm hands ran over your sides and waist, peering over your shoulder and twisting you in front of him while he questioned, “fuck, are you hurt?”

To his surprise, you exhaled a breathy laugh, mischief glinting in your irises, “hurt?” The coyness in your tone didn’t go unnoticed, but the arm reaching behind you did, and before he could react, you had San at your mercy with the nose of your pistol dug into the skin underneath his chin. Leaning further into his space, your lips stretched further at the raised hand stopping the two men at the door from reaching for their own weapons. You tilted your head while addressing him, faux innocence painting your features, “who do you think finally killed that bastard while the men you hired were too busy shitting their pants?”

His eyes followed yours to his right, the bastard in question sprawled out near the entrance with a bullet rooted between his eyebrows. Even with the pistol firmly boring into his skin, the corners of San’s lips quirked upwards, redirecting his focus to take you in with dazed, unreadable eyes. “Oh, darling,” rough, broken knuckles grazed your jaw, his lips widening as you unconsciously leaned into the touch, “just when I thought I couldn’t want you more.”

Eyebrows shooting up — the first hint of surprise flashing over your features — a blend of amusement and curiosity seeped into your expression, “oh?”

He walked you backwards, guiding you with the pistol pressing an indent into his flesh and a hand spreading warmth over your lower back, stopping his pointed steps once the wooden edge of the bar replaced the heated touch. He towered over you, leaning you back slightly over the glossy surface with lidded eyes studying your unchanging expression, the tip of his pointer tracing a languid line down the side of your face. Despite the gruesome scene surrounding you, and the firmness in which you held onto the pistol’s handle, your features were relaxed, easy smile gracing your lips and head tilted slightly in a discrete attempt to chase the gentle gesture. Choi San was not gentle, but one thing he did was make exceptions, unconcealable tenderness breaking through a rigid exterior to bleed into his calloused touch, to glimmer within narrowed eyes, and shape the honeyed words rolling off his otherwise sharp tongue.

Choi San didn’t make exceptions, scratch that. He made an exception.

To say he had been intrigued by you would be an understatement, years passing with him making time to drop by when he rarely ever needed to, making excuses to conceal his interest in a particular bartender who knew about his low-tolerance — classified information only a select few knew of —sneaking non-alcoholic beverages his way when he got pressured into drinking after a successful deal had been made in her presence. And despite the confidence oozing off you, shoulders straight and chin lifted as you batted your eyelashes flirtatiously at various customers, San noted the tremors shaking your fingers, the wary eyes darting in each direction while the men you worked with grazed against you while passing by, and those slurring their words drunkenly calling out to you from their booths. He noticed the tension in your shoulders even as the years went by, and regulars became familiar, their orders sliding across the bar seconds after they’d found an empty seat, before a greeting could slip out their smiling lips, pleased to be served by you once again. You knew the respect this façade had brought upon you, and yet your eyes remained sharp, solid walls built up behind the sultry smiles you handed these desperate men on a gold platter. And in the restless fight to break them down, San found himself too deep into a pit he could no longer pick himself up from. A pit brimming with burning want, a yearning so fervid, it ate at him from the inside out the more he pushed it away, cheap whores and endless mistresses futile in their attempts to simmer it down.

But now, the woman he so desperately wanted to break down between rough palms was trapped between his firm chest and the bar, still holding him at gunpoint while her free arm wrapped around his shoulder. It felt like hours, the steady ticking of the vintage clock hung on the bullet-riddled wall fading the deeper San peered into your eyes, looking up at him through curled eyelashes as the longer hand continued its clicking. Playfulness glimmered in your irises the longer San dragged his silence, as though he had no intention of building on his prior statement.

“What’s this about the great Choi San wanting me?”

Your tone indicated a challenge, a ‘how will he avert the situation to his advantage this time?’ while you kept your eyes on him, fingers tangling into the short hair at his nape to watch his eyelids droop even further at the pleasant stimulation. And perhaps what he needed was a pistol threatening to blow through his brain, realizing — after a chase lasting too many years — that he was tired of the endless back and forth, tired of the eager hands brushing over your body while he sipped on some fizzy beverage you’d handed him, watching as you basked under others’ attention, his own bullheadedness and pride pushing him further away from you when all he wanted to do was break every audacious finger that dared touch your skin in his presence.

Leaning closer, until his hot breath mingled with yours in the negligible gap he’d left between your faces, his hand curved over your jaw, thumb caressing the skin of your cheek, “baby, I’d give you the whole world if you’d just ask.”

The sudden confession surprised you, eyebrows flying up and jaw slackening under his touch, but you swiftly picked yourself up, a pleased smile stretching your lips as you bumped noses with him, “Mm, I’ll hold you up to that, Mr. Choi.”

Unlike the gradually deepening kisses shared in romance novels, teeth clanged and tongues pushed against one another, San’s hand travelling down your side to grab at your thigh until your feet lifted off the wooden floorboards. He set you down on the bar, fingers digging into the washed-out denim gathered at your hips while his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. Placing the pistol somewhere to your side, your hands wandered down San’s sculpted body and over the expanse of honey skin peeking through his open coat, fingertips grazing his nipples to elicit a sudden groan from the man’s lips, parting against your own. You made a mental note of his response, the corner of your mouth lifting as you repeated the action, the hungry clash of lips dwindling into interval pecks as you toyed with San’s chest, flushed and heated under your touch.

“About time you started thinking with your cock,” wrapping your legs around his frame, you dragged his pelvis closer to feel him against your core, hard and heavy within the confines of his pants.

He rolled his hips, eyes dazed as he took you in through the negligible gap separating you, breathing the same air as the friction and lust glazed over his lidded eyes. “Who said this was my cock speaking?”

Fingers pausing over his chest, you took in the implication behind his words, his heartbeat frenzied and erratic against your palm as though it was communicating in its own language, desperate to be heard amongst the chaos that was your nonexistent relationship with Choi San — a game of cat and mouse, with the roles reversing each time you’d crossed paths. Playful banter and meaningless flirting remaining at surface level with no endpoint in sight, both players stuck in a turmoil of pridefulness and cowardice, none willing to relent.

If you’d known a cheap, rusted pistol would push San onto his knees before you, you would’ve blown a bullet through someone’s head three years ago. It wasn’t the game you wanted to win for the sake of your treasured ego, but the thrashing muscle beneath your palm, one many would assume didn’t beat, cold-heartedness and dispassionate eyes only a few could see through. And perhaps that’s what drew him to you, your willingness to look past the blood on his hands and the barbarism in which he carried out his business, your eyes sparkling in interest rather than fear as you sneaked an unknown drink into his hand, treating him like a customer you wanted to woo into becoming a regular, and not as Choi San.

The silence stretched, until San’s mutter broke through the stillness, “do you fear me?”

You blinked up at him, pondering over his question for barely a second before whispering back, “no.”

Huffing out a small laugh, he cradled your jaw in one of his palms while his thumb caressed the skin of your cheek, “that’s reckless.” Perhaps his response should have scared you, or at least sent an icy chill down your spine, but your heart only ached for the man before you as you took in his feeble, half-hearted attempt at pushing you away. Ironic, considering he’d unconsciously leaned into you while he spoke, chest brushing against yours with every breath he inhaled. “You know I can’t be trusted.”

“Not when you look at me the way you do.”

A dangerous glint sparked in the dark of his irises, burning as he silently went over your words in his mind, the few seconds’ wait stirring up butterflies in your gut as you resisted cowering under his fierce gaze. And before you could question his speechlessness, or attempt a teasing remark to lessen the rigid tension beginning to choke you, San’s face was lurching forwards to capture your lips in another kiss. Hungrier, greedier, as though he’d been starved of you — and he’d argue he was — and was finally offered a taste, teeth clashing with his nose pressed against the side of yours as he sucked out the last of the oxygen in your lungs.

Emotion flooded into San’s chest, and he allowed it to seep through into his actions, hands restless and wandering over your frame while his tongue busied itself with exploring your mouth after you’d given him access. Short, breathy moans left your lips when his fingers tucked into the denim waistband of your jeans, eliciting a desperate groan from his as he struggled to undo the button separating him from your heat. The dizzying haze San’s soft lips on yours cast upon your mind broke, his eyes closed as he chased your retreating touch when the sudden awareness of your surroundings jerked you away from him. Despite your sudden rigidness, he didn’t allow you to move too far, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume masking the sharpness of the three cigarettes you’d smoked earlier.

His mouth found your pulse, tongue peeking out to drag kitten licks over the delicate skin in between the gentle pecks pressed onto the column of your throat. His breath warmed the stripes of saliva he’d left behind, “what’s wrong?”

San’s mouth stretched against your skin when your button finally popped open between his fingers, his thumb and index dragging the zipper down until black lace peeked through the opening. You flinched slightly, eyes wandering to the side while a bashful flush rode up your chest.

“San we—” you cleared your throat, “what about…?”

The thumb toying with the dainty lace paused when you’d placed your hand over his, directing his gaze over his shoulder with a faint nod of your head, eyes fixed onto your denim-clad lap. The two guards stood awkwardly by the entrance — Jongho appeared to be unfazed, yet the red tinting the tips of his ears betrayed his nonchalant attitude, intermittent coughs to relieve the dryness of his throat not going unnoticed under San’s watchful gaze. Mingi, on the other hand, fidgeted uncomfortably in hopes of relieving the suffocating tightness in his ironed dress pants, shifting his weight from one leg onto the other in a futile attempt to be discrete, the heavy arousal pressing against his zipper too tricky to conceal.

Moving his attention back to you, San lifted your gaze back to his softened eyes with a finger under your chin, “don’t worry, my darling, they wouldn’t dare look at what’s mine,” the words rolled off his tongue laced with dizzying sweetness. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you noted the averted gazes of the two men, as well as the obvious arousal bulging in the blonde’s pants. San’s finger guided your focus back onto him, “uh-uh, eyes on me.”

With a gentle grip around your wrist, he guided your hand down the toned muscle of his abdomen and over the luxury, leather belt, his hand cupping the back of yours to press it into the twitching lust tenting his pants. Your eyelashes fluttered at the rush of arousal drenching your panties, wrapping your fingers around the clothed girth to elicit a shaky exhale from the parted, plush lips mere centimeters away from yours, leaning forward to close the gap between them. No longer minding the two spectators, your low moan vibrated over San’s mouth, tongue running over his front teeth while you palmed over his hardness, his chest shuddering against yours at the friction. With an arm around your waist, San lifted your hips just enough to tug the bothersome denim off you, leaving you to kick it off while he revelled in the gentle friction you provided him.

He rolled his hips into your touch, one hand still covering yours at his crotch while the other hurriedly pulled your shirt up to your chest, followed by your bra to watch your tits spill out under the band. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You hummed, watching as he’d begun leaning down towards your exposed chest before your hand shot up from his pants to grab his jaw, watching as he confusedly looked up at you, cheeks smushed between your fingers and eyes glazed over with want.

“Mm, I bet you’d like that,” tilting your head to the side, a playful smile curving your lips as you watched him process the mocking tone he’d previously used on you — your refusal to comply bewildered him, but most of all, it sent shocks of burning arousal straight to his core.

The arm around your waist dragged you closer to the edge of the bar, his other hand raking through the hair at the side of your head, desperation leaking into his tone as he sucked in a sharp breath, “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

His pouted lips found yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, bodies colliding as his urgency and yearning revealed themselves in hungry nips and bites. You carded your fingers through the dark strands, wrapping your legs around his hips once he’d slotted himself between your thighs, heavy bulge pressed and rutting against your overwhelming heat.

Your own impatience clawed at your cracking composure, a man you’d watched from afar, unobtainable to all but those he’d handpicked himself, only to toss away the morning after. And for as long as you’d remembered, you’d hoped he’d never pick you, afraid of the lingering feelings he’d leave behind as his broad frame walked out the room, his scent permeating the sheets still covering your sweaty figure, fingers entangled into the cotton in a hasty attempt at preserving the memory of  a man you’d wanted for years, but who only wanted you for a night.

Drawing back to take him in, the dystopian scenario your mind had drew up faded into dust as said man chased your lips, feline eyes shut, eyebrows drawn in as he registered the unreturning loss of your touch. While Choi San’s warmth may very well still be torn away from you, the morning sun shining over the world while leaving you alone in the chilling shade, you wondered if the memory of the burning body heat radiating off his soft skin would accompany you during those frosty, weary days. Barely weighing your options, you pressed yourself to the man before you, dragging him impossibly closer with the legs around his waist.

If the dawn of a new day were to illuminate the shards of your shattered heart, at least the moon would have borne witness to your undoing within Choi San’s fervid embrace.

“How about you be good and fuck me already?”

Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, San allowed you to guide his hands past the lacey waistband until your sweet arousal coated his fingertips, running them through your folds to feel you throbbing against him. His response was delayed, breathy as he struggled to focus with his hand in your panties, “be patient.”

Unlike any other statement that had left his plush lips, San’s tone was lacking, the noted detail stretching the corners of your mouth. “I can feel you shaking, Sir.”

The accusation earned you a firm glare, his gaze shifting from the indents of his knuckles against the lace to the cockiness painting your features. Was it nerves, or the anticipation? You wondered if Choi San ever felt any of those emotion, let alone allowed them to translate into his body language. And yet the unsubtle trembling continued, even as the deep baritone sounded in the negligible space separating you.

“Call me by my name.”

It seemed as though your choice of nickname was more alerting to him than the implication associated with his jitters. You wondered if this was his way of showing vulnerability, and the thought of another noticing his quivering irked you, “don’t wanna.”

To your surprise, San’s eyes softened, taking your jaw into his free hand and running his thumb beneath your bottom lip, “please, baby.” He circled his middle finger around your fluttering hole before breaching it, sinking all the way inside while his eyes studied your features. Letting out a breath at the stretch, your lips parted further when San’s thumb ran along the cracking skin, tongue peeking out to run over his nailbed. The sternness in his voice vanished and subtle whines mixed into his tone, “please, ‘wanna hear you saying my name.”

He slid another finger alongside the first, curving and running them over your walls until he grazed the spongy surface he’d been seeking, noting the flutter of your eyelashes, thighs tensing around his waist before spreading to allow him further access.

“C’mon,” he urged, fingertips digging into your g-spot as he shallowly thrusted them into your cunt, studying your face for encouragement as your eyebrows drew in and soft exhales quickened in pace. His thumb pressed into your bottom lip, and he leaned forward to leave an upwards trail of wet kisses over the slope of your jaw, mumbling against the flushed skin, “say my name, baby, let me hear it.”

You were putty in San’s arms, pleasure building in your gut as he fucked his fingers into your pussy, his hand trapped behind the lace and grinding his palm into your clit, the single syllable rolling off your tongue before you could help it, an airy repetition of his name, “San, San, San—” so sweet, melodic, bucking his hips into nothing at the sound, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and groaning into your skin, deep and gravelly, before sinking his teeth into the flesh.

A high-pitched whimper followed the echoes of his name, your walls clamping up around him as a sudden orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking and back arching, head thrown backwards as he guided you back down with slow glides against your walls and tender kisses over the bitemark he’d left as a keepsake. Just as the tension in your muscles dwindled, San’s hand retreated out of your panties, hurriedly tugging the fabric down your legs and ignoring the audible tearing at the frantic action. He interrupted the complaint at the tip of your tongue with a look, berserk and brimming with searing lust,

“I need to fuck you right now,” his breathing was heavy, rapid, fingers digging into the flesh of your hip while his free hand rid him of his belt, tossing the leather to the side before undoing his pants and leaving them to fall to his ankles. “Can I, baby? I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out in a whine, wrapping your fingers around his biceps after he’d shrugged off his coat, revealing the wide expanse of soft, tan skin and bulging muscle, “want that, want you.”

San’s boxers gathered around his mid-thighs before his impatience became too much to handle, wrapping his arms around you to drag your hips closer before the burning heat of your core met his leaking cock. You breathed the same air, panting into the gap separating you as San ran his length through the slick coating your folds, once, twice, before his eagerness could no longer be held down. A visible shudder shook his toned figure as he breached your clenching hole, his cock stretching you open while you held onto his shoulders for stability, head angled downwards to watch your cunt swallow his cock whole.

“Fuck—darling, you gotta relax for me,” he bumped his forehead with yours, pressing tender kisses to your lips while you adjusted to his girth, unclenching your muscles and allowing the fullness to take over your senses. “Good girl,” he squeezed the back of your neck soothingly, planting a few pecks onto your cheekbone and temple.

He moved in shallow thrusts, craving the friction but refusing to part from the magnetic warmth of your cunt, slick squelching every time he pushed in and soft grunts leaving his lips as he cast his gaze onto your contorting face. He could tell you were still trying to hold your ground, but the pleasure soaring through your body at the languid grazes of his cockhead over your clenching walls dismantled the front you’d built up. And Choi San proved relentless in his pursuit, wanting nothing but to have you falling apart in his arms.

He snapped his hips without warning, a choked moan echoing in the back of your throat, “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he was so close, so deep, building up to a rhythm that rendered you momentarily speechless. “My own pretty girl to ruin.”

You made no effort in concealing your voice, intermittent ah’s making San’s insides flutter as he pounded into you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he seeked the tight squeeze of your cunt.

“You fucking wish,” lidded eyes not moving off his, you rolled your hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts with just as much urgency, the heavy presence of his cock continuously fucking into you satisfying a years-long hunger you’d endured in silence.

“You can pretend all you want, but I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself,” the hand on your nape moved to the back of your head, pushing it down to vaunt his slick-coated cock peeking out of your pussy before stuffing it back inside, toned pelvis and snail trail glistening with your arousal as he grinded against your clit every time he sheathed himself within you. Leaning forward once again, San’s lips pressed against your cheekbone, moving over the skin as he rephrased his previous question into a sure statement, “you’re mine.”

And this time, you didn’t protest, didn’t tease, but simply nodded your head and breathed out a defeated, “yeah, ‘m all yours.”

San’s cock twitched, his hand dropping to your thigh to dig his fingers into the flesh, the other still wrapped possessively around you while he pistoned his hips into your sopping cunt, sweat beading over his temples while your foreheads remained flush, hot air circulating between your mouths as you pressed them against each other in breathless kisses, swallowing each other’s moans as ecstasy soared through your bodies.

“San—nngh fuck—" the more your back arched you away from him, the closer San drew you in, as though he couldn’t function without every patch of your skin glued to his own; until your nipples pressed together and his scent was all-consuming.

San prided himself in his stamina, but with your walls wrapped around him, his cock pulsed violently and all he could think about was fucking you full. “Gonna give you all I have,” he grunted, rhythm faltering and growing sloppy as the build of his orgasm blinded him, “you’ll take it all, won’t you?”

It seemed as though all you could do was nod, the sound of your synced breaths and skin-on-skin reverberating in the air surrounding your intertwined frame. All you could think about was San, so full of San, his scent, his warmth, his secure hold. San, San, San. The man noticed the sudden trance consuming you, moving his head back to hold your face in his palm, waiting until your eyes focused back on him to speak again,

“There you are,” it was barely a whisper, but you released a deep breath you’d unintentionally been holding, muscles relaxing despite the hurried pace of his hips pounding into you, “’m gonna fill you up, yeah?” Though you were on the brink of delirium, wanting nothing more but San’s thick cum deep within you, you remained quiet, watching as desperation seeped into his expression. “Please, baby—fuck—please let me, let me make a mess of you.”

You ran your fingers through his damp locks, scratching at his scalp to watch the feline eyes droop further. “Begging looks good on you,” you giggled, noting his slowed pace as he staved off his orgasm, a creamy ring of white forming around his cock.

An exasperated whine escaped his throat, his hips betraying him as they chased a pleasure he’d been delaying, “you’ll look so pretty full of my cum, you’ll take it so well.”

The furrow of his eyebrows, pretty pink tinting his skin and fingers trembling where he replaced them at your nape, you couldn’t find it in you to refuse him anymore, the familiar tingle of your impending orgasm breaching your brittle mask of nonchalance.

“Give it to me, Sannie, I’ll take it all.”

That was all San needed, the nickname blurring his vision as he stuffed his length into your cunt, pelvis pressed against your clit as he painted your walls with sticky ribbons of pearly white, his cock throbbing while he fed his load into your womb. You watched his eyes flutter shut and mouth form a perfect ‘o’ as he used your warm hole to milk himself of every last drop, graced with the opportunity to watch him unravel for only a few moments before he dragged you into his body, tucking your head into his neck while he grinded his twitching cock into your cum-soaked pussy. It was so much, so warm as he flooded your insides with his seed, a thin stream dribbling out of your stretched entrance while he shot a few more pathetic spurts.

You tangled your fingers into the short locks at his nape, reveling in the untamed, successive moans San let out into your ear, the mix of his deep baritone and high-pitched whimpers leading your pussy to clench around him. And despite the building overstimulation, he started up a steady rhythm once again, pulling out before slamming back inside. You felt the thick cum flooding out of you, only to be fucked back into your needy cunt. An orgasm you’d thought had dwindled away built right back up as San’s cockhead pounded relentlessly into your g-spot, thighs clamping around his hips as they guided you towards the edge.

You clung to his shoulders, hesitantly pushing your head back when he’d gripped the hair at your nape, shaky breath blowing against your skin as he watched you melt in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, “gonna come for me?”

“mhmm,” your cunt pulsed sporadically as he pumped it full of his sensitive cock, and he leaned down to pepper kisses over your eyelids.

“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” he muttered over the delicate skin, his smile dripping with sweetness once you’d done as he asked, faltering slightly when your walls finally clamped up around him, “that’s it—fuck—that’s a good girl.”

Vivid flashes of colour painted your vision, muscles spasming in San’s hold as you finally tumbled over the edge. He coaxed you through it with languid glides over your trembling walls, honeyed voice mumbling praise into your ear while ecstasy rocketed through your body, going completely silence through the first wave before a broken moan ripped through your chest. Your cunt squelched with the added slick, a mixture of your release and San’s simultaneously being fucked into and out of the used hole, and San wanted nothing but to spread you open and swallow your combined taste until you squirmed and thrashed under him, pulling at his hair and squeezing his head between your thighs. But exhaustion was apparent in your eyes, body going limp in his arms as you finally came down, spasming and whimpering while weakly pushing at his bicep.

San didn’t pull out, but simply slid his whole length back inside you and stilled, waiting until your features relaxed before leaning in for a kiss — slow, deep, breaking apart to plant a succession of feathery pecks over your pouted lips.

As he tucked you closer once again, nuzzling your nose into his pulse point, you wondered if this was how Choi San treated all his women, lulling them into a false sense of security before ripping their heart out of their chest, leaving them with the bitter memory of what could have been and the retreating shadow of his broad frame. But one peek over his shoulder, you took in the wordless conversation shared between the two guards, bewilderment and questioning glinting in their widened eyes, frantic hands flailing at their sides in an attempt to dissect the situation. The peculiar scene eased your concerns, and the steady heartbeat of the man you’d longed to hold you for so long laced the air around you with a comforting aroma.

Twisting his head, San studied your dazed expression for a few moments before you’d met his eyes, earning you an easy smile and dimpled cheeks that sent your heartrate on a frenzy, and with your chests flush, San’s lips only smiled further at the realization. The man had warned you about the recklessness of trusting him, and while you knew it to be as such, you were content to live in this warm aura of comfort he’d provided you so long as you could bare witness to this side of vulnerability unknown to many. And even if this moment were to be fleeting, leaving you to grieve the short-live tenderness instead of revel within it, San’s overwhelming warmth and the fervency of his embrace would eternally linger, casting a comforting glow on any desolate, bitter days to come.

tags: cunnilingus, pet name (love), very short, very quick, doing this on my phone sorry imsorryivebeenabsentfromthisaccount

🌰 🌰 🌰 Thinking about San’s new hairstyle.

More specifically, I’m thinking about San on his knees between your legs, sucking at your clit and lapping at your folds like a starved man. His eyes are closed, lost in the bliss of how good you taste, letting his tongue fuck into you as you squirm in your seat.

Thinking about how he groans against your cunt when your fingers run through his hair before gripping the short locks, loving how you tug his hair the closer you get to your orgasm. His cock is hard and straining in his pants, precum staining the material, but he prides himself with being a patient good boy for you. His hands are locked against your thighs, kneading the soft flesh as he digs into his meal like a hungry cat.

“San, San I’m gonna– fuck!”

“Come, love,” he murmurs against your folds, opening his eyes to see your fucked our expression. “Come on my tongue, let me taste your sweetness.” With a few more expert movements with his tongue, his nose bumping against your clit, you come with a cry; fingers gripping your boyfriend’s hair tightly as you shove him against your cunt, hips grinding against his face as laps up every bit of your cum.

He can’t help but moan at how fucking good you taste, helping you ride out your high, and it isn’t until you’re whining at him and pushing at his broad shoulders does he finally pull away. He looks about as fucked out as you do—face flushed, breathing hard, hair a mess, eyes half-lidded and chin glistening with your slick. You’re follow the motion of his tongue as he licks his lips clean, a smile forming on his face.

“So, does the new hairstyle get your approval?”

You give a hum, running your fingers through the soft and freshly cut hair, mirroring his smile as your hand comes to a rest on his cheek, your hand still shaking in the slightest. “Hm, I don’t know… I might need some more convincing.”

“hi, darling,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as she carefully pulls you into her. with her arms around you and your head on your chest, you finally feel a bit of relief after a bad day. your pain meds didn’t do much, and even with your heating pad, it’s been hard to find a comfortable position. but in no time, her hand rubbing your sore back and her sweet words have you far more relaxed than you have been all day.

she loves to see the furrow of your brow fade away and the subtle grimace on your lips curve into a far more contented, albeit small, smile. that’s when you can start to ask her about her day, happy to hear her voice instead of the tv characters who’ve served as your entertainment and distraction for the day. by now, she knows that her voice relaxes you, and secretly it makes her heart flutter. so, she gladly goes on and on, laying out the details of her day at work and happily making you laugh softly with silly little happenings between her and her members.

anytime an extra pang of pain interrupts your relaxed state, and your brow creases again and you clench your fist around the fabric of her shirt, she frowns, pausing her stories. if it’s particularly bad, she shushes you softly, running her thumb over your brows and cheeks to relax your face before putting more attention into massaging your back. if that irritates you more, as it sometimes does, she shifts the both of you around until you’re comfortable again. then she’s sure to kiss you softly and remind you how well you’re holding up or ask if there’s anything else she can do for you. she smiles when you just ask for her to keep talking about her day.

You step back, admiring the way you tied your boy up. The rope runs across under his tits, as it binds his arms behind his back, and the knots run parallel along his arm, down to his wrists before running across his abdomen.

Mingi’s stare follows yours, and ultimately dances back to yours, with those puppy eyes he always wore.

You straddle his lap, pulling yourself closer to him, letting your tits graze his chest before your hands stroke his cheeks. He seems so lost in your eyes, and he doesn’t hesitate to lean in to collide his lips with yours, tasting and taking everything you have to give. You’re rendered breathless, soaking in the way Mingi plays with your tongue and his whines when you bite his bottom lip and tug gently.

It doesn’t get him more to get his fat cock hard and twitching.

But you had other plans tonight.

The moment you part your lips from Mingi, his breath is already shaking from the anticipation because it’s the first time he’s doing this.

His eyes continue to follow you when you lower yourself to his cock, hands wrapping around the appendage, giving it a couple of pumps, listening to the way Mingi’s whining above you.

And then you pull out the cock ring, fitting it over until it sits comfortably above Mingi’s balls. Mingi bites his lip. It’s definitely a new sensation, but nothing unpleasant at least.

“Is this okay?” You ask, giving his pretty cock small kisses to relax him. Mingi nods, trying to let himself soak in the new sensation. He doesn’t hate it, that’s for sure.

You don’t give him any warning before taking his whole cock in your mouth, and Mingi jolts from the sudden sensation, accompanied with a low moan. He wants to grab your hair and fuck your face so bad, but when he does, he remembers that his hands a bound behind him.

His cock leaves your lips with a pop and you give his shoulder a gentle push, letting him fall onto the bed to be comfortable. He relaxes slightly when his back hits the mattress.

You lie beside him, your hands slowly pumping his cock to let him adjust, and Mingi gasps.

“How does it feel?” You check in.

“Yeah, feels okay. Feels okay”, Mingi replies, feeling his cock grow bigger under your touch, pushing against the cock ring.

“You’re taking it so well. I knew you’re such a good boy, princess”, you say in a soft voice, thumbing his silt, watching him squirm. Beads of sweat begin to trickle down his temple, but that’s the least of his worries.

Mingi’s mind is starting to slowly melt. The way you’re pumping his cock is sending electricity up his spine, and it only feels more enhanced with the way the cock ring is pushing against his rock hard cock. Groans leave his lips, as he bucks his hips every time you pump right back to his tip.

“Amazing. Fucking amazing”, he whimpers, spreading his legs by instinct.

“Look at your pretty cock, princess. It’s so fucking hard and big. You like wearing the cock ring that much?” You ask, giving the cock ring on his base a little squeeze, and you earn a cry from him.

No thoughts are processing in Mingi’s brain, all he does is shut his eyes and flutter them open. You pout, giving another squeeze to the cock ring and a soft yelp comes from the male below you.

“Answer me, Princess.”

“I like it. It feels so good around my cock”, Mingi admits, despite the flush engulfing his ears and cheeks. He would never admit it, but it’s so evident that he loves being humiliated like that.

You smile as you lean in to plant a kiss on his temple before you shifting yourself to settle in between his spread open legs.

The ropes are starting to leave soft imprints on his pretty skin as he’s fighting against the restraints, especially when you’re beginning to use both hands to stroke his cock. You stare at the way precum leaks pathetically out of the silt of his cock, before accelerating your strokes, while pressing his hips down every time he lifts them in desperation.

“Babe, w-wait!” He cries out. He feels something funny in his stomach, and balls the more you flick your wrist. You don’t relent, making sure you pull every single fucked out reaction from Mingi.

Mingi’s eyes roll back as he juts his hips into the air, his low groans climbing in pitch as his cock twitches so desperately. He curses, “fuck fuck fuck!”, letting tears streak down his face.

He finally lands back onto the bed, and he looks more frustrated. His breathing still continues to be laboured as he whines.

“Aw. Did my princess have a dry orgasm?” You giggle, watching the way his cock twitch violently, only pre cum and slick barely leaking from the tip.

“Wanna cum. Please, I wanna cum”, he begs, his body twitching forward from the aftershocks. You swear you could get addicted to hearing him beg.

“Do you think you deserve it?” You ask, giving his balls a massage. Mingi bites his lips, looking at you with those fucking puppy eyes again. He sucks his cheeks, and nods quickly.

“Use your words, baby”, you remind him, thumbing over his silt once more, and he flexes his abdomen at the sensation.

“Yes, please, I’ve been such a good boy for you. I’ll let you use me, whatever you want, babe”, he whines, bucking his hips into your hands again. You think to yourself that you could definitely get used to this.

You pull the cock ring off as agonisingly slow as possible, taking in the pleasure of Mingi’s desperate begging, and the way his cock is so fucking wet that the band slips off almost immediately, and by then the clear slick that gathers at the top of his slit gradually becomes whiter and thicker. Mingi sighs in relief, letting his cock twitch, as more thick pre cum trickles down his cock.

And then you lower yourself onto his cock without much warning, Mingi has his head thrown back, his whines and sobs filling up the room at how your pussy is just squeezing him.

“W-wait, n-no! Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Mingi feels the dopamine rush into every single of his senses when his cock is sunken into your warm cunt, and his hips jerk as he fits his entire length in you. His cock twitches for less than millisecond before he paints your walls with his thick cum. You gasp, pressing your fingers onto his hips as he unloads into you, shot after shot.

“It’s so much. Shit, it feels so good. Fuckkkkk”, he sobs and whines, thighs jerking every time you clench and milk him out. You press kisses on his cheeks, temples and lips, sending him praises right to his ears that he’s such a good boy for taking it, for begging, for cumming in you, and more whimpers pull out of him. You undo the knots and your heart flutters at the way his body has imprints of the ropes, and he looks so fucking beautiful panting and covered in sweat, his eyes barely opened. You don’t get off his cock just yet, letting him regain his bearings first.

His eyes flutter open, staring back at you with shyness and satisfaction before his arms reach out to push you down onto the bed. You don’t know where he even got the strength to do that after all that but you’re weren’t gonna complain. He spots his cum leaking down his cock, out from your wet hole, and he swallows hard.

''Baby?'' Wooyoung softly spoke as he pokes his head into your room. He had heard your sniffling and whining and he immediately rushed to see you. You looked up and met his worrying eyes. Your own eyes and nose were completely red from crying and your cold.

Wooyoung rushed to the bed with a bouquet of red roses in his arms and he held your hand. ''Sweetie, why are you crying? What's wrong dear?'' ''O-Oh Youngie,'' you cried as you took him in your arms. You hadn't seen him in days because of his schedules and it overwhelmed you that he came to surprise you like this.

''You're home,'' you cried softly into his chest. ''Yes... I'm home,'' he smiled as he wiped your cheeks. "What happened to you sweetie? Why are you upset? Are you not happy I'm back?"

"Aish, ofcourse I am happy you're back," you sighed, "I'm just feeling sick and I keep crying and I have got 2 reports d-due." You couldn't hold the tears back anymore as you told Wooyoung about your problems. He gently rocked you as he held you, kissing your head.

"Sweetie... I'm sorry... I'm here now, let me take care of you." Wooyoung snuggled up against you and laid his head on your shoulder. "Can I help you?"

You put your laptop on your nightstand as you hugged Wooyoung tight. "No I don't think so," you sniffled, "it's just so hard to concentrate, my head hurts so much."

"Do you want some tea?" Wooyoung smiled. You nodded as you tried to smell the flowers he got you, but you couldn't even smell the tiniest bit, which made you cry again.

"Honeyy, honey, calm down, it's all good... It's all good," he shushed you. You nodded and sighed, clinging onto his sweater to keep him close. "I'm home... I am taking care of you...," Wooyoung whispered softly.

You laid there together for a while until you slowly dozed off. Wooyoung got up and made his way to the kitchen, preparing a mug with your favourite kind of tea and a few little chocolates to cheer you up.

When he got back he kissed your head, which made your eyes flutter open again. You suddenly saw the chocolate in his hands and you gasped. ''Chocolates?'' ''I got them from Japan,'' he smiled as he sat back down. He gently blew your tea for you while you tested the chocolates out. ''Oh, they're quite good,'' you smiled.

Wooyoung felt relieved seeing your smile again, he hated seeing you in tears. He grabbed your laptop to see what your report was about. He knew he wouldn't be able to write it for you but he just wanted to show his support for you. ''Careful,'' you said with puppy eyes, worried he'd spill the hot tea on your brand new laptop. ''Yes, darling,'' he said with a smile as he put the laptop away again.

You blew on your tea yourself now as Wooyoung caressed your hair and told you about his work. You loved hearing your boyfriend talk, about anything. You could listen to him for hours and never get tired.

Happiness spread through your body as he kept you warm in his embrace. You weren't a big fan of this weather, it was cold and rainy and you got sick so easily. But it was Wooyoung's season and if Wooyoung was around you were happy, so you decided to not complain about autumn anymore. You'd call it Wooyoung season now.

''I'm so happy that you had a good time,'' you smiled softly. He nodded and kissed your head. ''I'm sorry I wasn't waiting for you in like... sexy lingerie or anything. We can't even kiss now,'' you pouted. Wooyoung grinned. ''You think I care about that? I just want you to be okay again, darling, we'll kiss when you feel better.''

Your nose felt runny again so you blew it and your heart sank a little. For some reason you still got embarrassed by doing these humane things in front of your boyfriend, such as blowing your nose and being sick. Your boyfriend couldn't care less though, he was loud in everything; he yells (not at you), he laughs, he poops, he farts, he burps. But you honestly love him for it.

Wooyoung really brightens your life and gets you out of your shell a little more, which is good, but moments like these, when he is gentle and soft just makes your chest feel all fuzzy and warm.

''You know, I fall in love with you a little more each day,'' he suddenly confessed as he held you tighter. ''You do?'' you giggled as you sipped from the tea. ''Yes darling, I do.''

''Even when I'm sick?''

''Even when you're sick.''