(extra) gray

Mingyu who after he took you out on a few dates was utterly obsessed with you, he just wanted to be near you all the time. He loved how you were with him. Always so caring, always making sure he was ok. He'd feel his dick get hard at the most awkward of times. You leaning over to check if he had a temperature when he said he felt a little under the weather made him have to cover himself with his jacket. He was just completely in awe of you.

Mingyu who when you awkwardly asked if he could drop you home early because your milk had leaked, had to quickly hide the hard on that had instantly formed in his pants. He was more or less drooling as he willed himself to not just stare at the wet patches on your top and to at least pretend to see the urgency in getting you home.

Mingyu who when he's at your place one night and you try to excuse yourself because you need to "sort yourself out" as you put it, sheepishly asks if he could help you out.

Mingyu who spends ten minutes explaining to you that he's been thinking about it since that date where you leaked (even before that but you don't need to know that) and that he just wants to be good for you.

Mingyu who almost loses his mind when you finally say yes and slowly take your t-shirt and bra off, the sight of the small droplets forming already from how full you are, only making him impossibly harder.

Mingyu who places a cushion on your knee, you watching him and almost squirming in your seat on the couch from how much this is weirdly making you tingle.

Mingyu who closes his eyes and sighs in happiness when you run your fingers through his hair as his head rests on the pillow, your leaking nipples so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

Mingyu who looks so submissive when he looks up into your eyes and whispers "is this ok mummy?". That simple word triggering something in you that you didn't know was there but makes your pussy leak almost as much as your tits are.

Mingyu whose heart skips a bit just like it did when he found out your were single when you say that it's all ok and to just take what's his, your eyes rolling back when his perfect lips finally wrap around of your painfully eager nipples.

Mingyu who at that first sweet taste, looses all his decorum. He sucks and licks with eagerness you weren't expecting, his mouth switches between your nipples like its almost hurting him to stop suckling on one of them. He's like a child with too many toys having to choose between which to suckle on.

Mingyu who has so much pleasure on his face as he savours the taste of your sweet milk on his tongue, like you are the finest delicacy he's ever tasted. The sight of it only making you want to care for him even more.

Mingyu who only gets harder and harder as your warm milk over takes his senses, all that's running through his mind is how much he wants to please you and how your swollen nipple in his mouth feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Mingyu who is humping thin air, chin covered in milk as he keeps suckling on your swollen nipples, the pain in his pants getting almost too much, something you don't fail to notice. The fact that your milky tits are making him so desperate only makes you even needier.

Mingyu who almost cries when you ask him if he wants mummy to help him and if he wants mummy to make him feel good. But he can't take his pouty lips away from your sweetness so he just nods against your breast, holding onto you like he's scared you're going to disappear.

Mingyu who you manage to calm down slightly, him having nipped your nipple in excitement when you freed his dick, by telling him that it was all ok and mummy would make sure he felt good.

Mingyu who holds your waist as he carries on suckling at your milky breasts, his eyes rolling back into his head when your hand wraps around his swollen dick, the tip bulbous and leaking. Your cunt clenches when he twitches as you ask him does mummy's hand feel good on his perfect dick.

Mingyu who grinds into your hand as you fuck him with your fist, he's moaning against your nipples, covered in milk and drool, he can't help it your hand feels so good that he misses out on tasting every last drop of your sweet milk. Something he isn't too bothered about right now because this is definitely not going to be a one off.

Mingyu who's sucking and licking only speeds up the closer he gets to cumming, he's suckling on your breasts with so much eagerness that it's almost painful but fuck does it feel good. He's still trying his best to swallow everything your perfect swollen tits give him but he's moaning so fucking much from how your hand feels that he can't.

Mingyu who cums all over his stomach and your hand when you tell him that mummy needs him to cum, that you want to see him cum all over himself because he's your good boy and that he deserves it after doing so well for you and helping you feel so good.

Mingyu who can't help himself, he begs can he have mummy's pussy, his cheeks pink, lips puffy and chin covered in milk and drool from how much he loved your perfect tits. He's bordering on tears as begs for mummy's pussy again and again.

Mingyu whose head spins when you shyly let him take the rest of your clothes off, his dick twitching back into action already at the sight of your dripping pussy. He can't believe that you want him so much, your puffy pussy being the obvious proof that you loved him being your perfect boy.

Mingyu who is polite enough to ask if he can have mummy's pussy, even though his eyes never actually manage to look in yours. He's too busy watching your hole drool for him.

Mingyu who barely let's you finish the sentence before his head is between your thighs, sucking your clit as well as he sucked your leaking nipples, his tongue alternating between licking all over your pussy and going back to sucking your clit like he's enjoying to taste of your cunt as much as he loved your milk.

Mingyu who moans into you when you tell him how well he's doing for mummy, about how close you are and how fucking good he's making you feel. Even the way you pull his hair is the most perfect thing he's ever felt.

Mingyu who when you've cum all over his tongue emerges from between your thighs completely  wrecked, like a man who's now utterly devoted to the milf who walked into the café.

Mingyu who lays back down and gently suckles on one of your nipples again, there's next to nothing coming out but he just needs that soothing action to bring him back to reality. He hums around it when you stroke his hair just to soothe him even further, both of you feeling utterly content.

Mingyu who after a few minutes of soothingly sucking your nipples, looks up with soft eyes and says "thank you mummy". His kiss afterwards tasting sweet for a multitude of reasons.

He feels the soft expanse of your calf to your knee, the warmth increasing the higher he reaches, and the entire time he keeps his eyes on your sleeping face. He watches every expression, waiting for the one that would tell him you've woken up, but he abandons the idea entirely when his fingertips brush along the panties that barely cover your sweet pussy from his greedy eyes. He feels how damp the fabric is, and his eyes zero in on your cunt.

His lovesick grin grows, and his warped idea that you want him just as much as he wants you amplifies. His touch becomes more confident as he cups your drooling cunt over your panties, his fingers dipping between your puffy folds to play with your sensitive clit.

You confirm his delusions when your thighs spread instinctively, giving him more space to rub sloppy hearts into your little nub as you shift against his couch in his studio.

He doesn't see the way your eyebrows furrow in your sleep; instead, he focuses on the way your panties get wetter. Your sweet slick coating the fabric in waves as his fingers flick over your clit, making your hips twitch and forcing his other hand to press on your lower back to keep you in place.

"So pretty, just wet and wanting even in your sleep." He murmurs, and your clit pulses against his finger tips, the fabric of your panties bunching to give friction to the little nub as he works you over with firm strokes. Your mouth opens with whimpers, your eyebrows furrowing more as he continues to play with you like you were his personal toy.

He continues to murmur praise, his mouth salivating, watching the way your pussy flutters each time he completes a sloppy heart on your clit until you're waking up confused with a curling heat swirling in your lower stomach. "Ji- oh fuck," you gasp, feeling his fingers pinch just in time for you to see white.

Your toes curl, your hips buck, and Jihoon plays with you throughout your orgasm until your panties are ruined and your thighs tremble in the aftershocks. You can barely process what happened before he's flipping you around onto your back, stripping you of your panties, and pocketing them as he pushes one of your knees up to your chest, exposing your glittering, wet cunt shamelessly.

"Look at that, you made a mess." He coos, and your face flushes as he meets your eyes with his dark ones. His pupils are blown, his tongue licking his lips wet as he kneels on the ground before your spread legs. "I think I need to clean it up. What do you think, pretty girl?" His mouth pants warm over your tingling cunt, and your mind reels at his words.

He had always had better restraint, paying you to be more of a friend and not … this. You had seen the way he looked at you sometimes, but he always kept his hands to himself, not that you wouldn't mind if he crossed the lines he had put in place. But this, you didn't expect this. His eyes stared at you as if you were to deny him, it would physically hurt him. His fingers dimpling the fat of your thighs as he watched the remnants of your first orgasm seep over your puffy folds like the highest temptation.

"Tell me you want this, pretty girl."

His eyes flicked up to you, and his grip on your thighs got stronger, and you knew there would be finger-shaped bruises to find later. "I-" your words were caught in your throat. You weren't given time to process whether this was business or personal, if it was a fleeting moment or something more, but your hand reached out for him regardless, and he took it as enough of an answer before he dipped his head down.

Your fingers find his hair the moment his tongue flattens over your wet cunt, lapping up your slit with a low groan as your honeyed slick coats his taste buds heavily. And he holds your thighs apart, his thumbs parting your swollen folds to keep you open as he gets lost in the taste of you bubbling across his thick tongue, slurping you down his throat like a man starved.

You can only take what he gave you, your breath coming out in pants between whines as he swirled his tongue around your clit before plunging into your fluttering hole, stretching you open over the wet muscle as his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy. You were exactly how he imagined, better even, sweet and addictive as he buried his face deeper between your plush thighs.

His nose rubbed along your pulsing clit while his jaw slacked open wider to make out with your weeping cunt. His tongue laved over your swollen folds, his groans vibrating against your mound until you felt it down in your toes. And you could already feel the familiar knot in your stomach twist as your fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him closer to your sweet pussy, making both of you moan in unison.

Jihoon's arms curled under your legs, draping them over his shoulders as you squeezed your thighs around his head. His tongue curled deeper inside, dragging over a sweet spot that had you arching in response and your head falling back as you gasped. You didn't even know Jihoon's mind was spinning, all of the blood rushing south to his cock, making him deliriously hard as you practically suffocated him between your thighs. It only made him groan louder, his hips rutting against the couch as he lapped, slurped, and kissed your cunt with earnest.

He could feel you were close, your gummy walls sucking on his tongue as he swirled the wet muscle around your velvety walls, pussydrunk and hungry. Your thighs shook against his ears, your fingers tugged on his hair like you were trying to get him off of you, but he wasn't having any of it. His arms locked you to his face, his cock twitching enthusiastically as you cried out his name for mercy.

When you cum the second time, it's hot and wet, and your mouth drops in a silent scream. You gush onto his waiting mouth, coating his tongue, his throat, his lips, and his jaw with your sweet slick as he fucks you through it. He never once lets go of your legs, keeping you from running from his mouth as he laps your cunt, addicted. And when he's truly satisfied in the way your hips twitch each time his tongue flicks over your clit, he finally leans back onto his knees.

He looks exactly how you feel, fucked out. His eyes are swirling with hearts, his lips are puffy, his jaw aches, and his face gleams slicked with your arousal. He looks at you as his tongue licks whatever it can reach on his face, his chest panting as he gives you a lovesick grin.

Your pussy flutters at the smile, your own breath coming up short as you realize there is a small wet patch blooming on his jeans.

Now that Jihoon has crossed his own drawn-out line, there is no turning back for him. You were his now, and if he had to give you his black card to prove it to you, he would. Everything would be yours regardless, but now he expects your full attention. He doesn't share his toys.

대박 - you made it to the end!

Tell me about it.

The moment your fingers cuff his neck while your sweet pussy sinks down on his thick cock, he gasps. His eyes roll, his jaw slacks open, and he has to use all his willpower not to snap his hips up and stuff you full of his cock all at once.

The warm, tight grip of your pretty pussy slurping his cock deeper inside until your ass meets his hips is something he can never get used to. His fingers clutch the bedsheets, his head rolls back into the soft pillows and when your hand finds his neck, you can feel his heavy cock jerk inside your gummy walls. You can feel new splashes of his gooey precum coat your drooling cunt, and it has both of you groaning in unison.

Mingyu’s eyelashes flutter when you keep a slight pressure on his throat. His pupils dilate, sparkling with lovesick hearts as he looks up at you. He thinks you’re so pretty using him. Riding him to chase your pleasure as you keep him, someone more than twice your size, in place.

The filthy obscene squelches of your pussy coating his cock with your arousal resonates in the room with the familiar plap-plap-plap of you bouncing on his lap, and Mingyu actually whimpers. His stomach flexes, his balls twitch, and his hips buck with a mind of their own, meeting each one of your bounces until your squeezing around his shaft tighter and tighter.

When you’re close, he takes over your movements, holding your soft waist while his feet plant on the bed to give him leverage. He keeps you in place while he fucks up into you, his forearms flexing, his teeth gritting as you throw your head back in pleasure. Your pretty tits bounce with each hard thrust he gives and his other hand finds your pulsing clit, rubbing firm circles on the little nub until you’re crying out.

You shriek his name when you cum, milking his cock as you keep a hand on his throat. Your pussy gushes hot and wet, creaming a white ring around his base and he keeps snapping his hips up. He fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging your high until your dripping your sweet arousal all over his balls and pelvis, making a mess out of the two of you.

You blabber for him to cum, to stuff you full, and your pussy flutters in agreement. Your hips are swiveling and swirling until the tip of his cock throbs a warning. And when you give him a pretty smile, squeezing his throat a little harder, asking him to cum? His body shivers, his cock swells, and he’s spilling rope after rope of his thick cum deep inside just like you wanted.

You can feel it splosh around, coating your walls white as you swirl your hips, milking his cock until he’s whimpering from the back of his throat.

When you let go of his neck, his eyelashes flutter, another lovesick grin spreading on his lips in satisfaction. He’ll have you cock warm him, stuffed to the brim with his cum until you can feel him get hard again. Then, he’ll give you a soft squeeze on the hips and ask you to choke him again, because he just wants to fill you up over and over again.

I’d like for us to come up with a plot together, but at the very least I’m looking for some pathetic gut wrenching yearning. Lots of smut, but it depends on the plot we come up with. I want denial, guilt, pining, SWITCHING… ugh somebody please be as passionate as me. We all know Soonyoung loves and adores Jihoon. I want him to be so desperate for him in every way shape and form whether he’s aware of it himself or not. Secretly bisexual (or gay idc) best friends with sexual tension they don’t even understand. Like Soonyoung doesn’t even know if he wants to fuck or be fucked. And then Jihoon is so touch starved that even with all the confusion and denial, his body can’t help but yearn… GAWWWD.

I’d probably be best playing Jihoon but I’m not picky. I just need them. I write in 3rd person and can hit max characters on discord (or more) depending on the scene. During heavy dialogue or smut scenes, I like to keep responses short (like a paragraph or a few) so it can flow easily. I’m really casual about this stuff. As long as you don’t give me some “he kissed him.” I don’t care about the length. Be descriptive when you can and put in EFFORT even if it’s a short response.

I’m ngl my roleplay partners tend to become my friends because the ooc banter is a must. I love to build plots, characters, and gush and make playlists and Pinterest boards and MORE. So please be a decent person 🙂

Simply like this or dm me if you’re interested!

and it’s not even giving “i’m a bad boy, i’ll ruin your life bc im cold” either. i know people love forcing that “cold” vibe onto him, but it’s so fucking fake. if you’re already part of the group, if you’re not some random outsider trying to insert yourself, he’s not gonna treat you like a disposable secret. he’d treat you like a choice, like it’s not just convenience. 

you should tell when someone’s just bored versus when someone actually wants you. and jihoon it’s the type that can look bored at everything in the world and still make you feel picked out like you’re the only thing in the room that makes sense.

it starts small, it’s you two sharing the same couch after everyone’s done screaming and laughing, the air smelling like ramen cups and energy drinks and that weird body spray someone keeps overusing. you’re tired, you’re scrolling on your phone pretending you’re not watching him from the corner of your eye. he’s got that calm face on, like nothing reaches him, like everything slides off.

but then you notice how he does notice things. the tiniest shit. you shifting your leg. you huffing because somebody left the window open and now it’s freezing. you rubbing your temple like you’ve got a headache. he doesn’t ask “are you okay?” just makes it better in the quietest way possible, like he’s patching you up without letting anyone catch him doing it.

and you’re sitting there thinking, god, this is exactly why he’d be perfect for secret anything. because he doesn’t make it a production. you could literally disappear with him for ten minutes and no one would realize it was a thing. it would just look like life happening. “oh, jihoon went to grab something.” “oh, y/n went to the bathroom.” nobody would connect the dots because jihoon doesn’t leave crumbs. he’s not that guy getting cocky and walking back into the room with that smug look on his face like “yeah i just did that.” noooooo absolutely not. he walks back in like he never left, like nothing happened, like he’s always been sitting there like he’s the safest liar you’ve ever met, except it doesn’t even feel like lying because he’s not doing it to hurt anyone. 

and honestly, if you ever got into that kind of situation with him, some little after-hours slip, some “we should go somewhere quieter” moment, you wouldn’t even feel scared. not in a bad way. you’d feel that buzzy, stupid adrenaline like you’re in on a secret joke with the universe. the kind that makes your skin feel too tight, like you’re wearing your own body wrong,, you’d be walking behind him down a hallway that’s too bright, past a bunch of doors that all look the same, thinking about how ridiculous this is because you’re literally just walking and yet it feels filthy. it feels like you’re doing something you’re not supposed to, just because he’s the one leading the way and he’s not saying shit about it. 

and you know what would absolutely fuck you outt? it wouldn’t be some big dramatic move. it’d be the quiet stuff, like him stopping in front of a door, checking behind him out of habit, and you realizing he’s doing it for you. like he’s making sure you’re safe before anything else. and you’d hate that you love it, because it’s way too intimate for something you’re pretending is casual, it’s way too boyfriend-coded for a situation that’s supposed to be nothing.

and i truly don’t think he’d have the courage to look you dead in the face and go “this is just sex, don’t catch feelings.” like… be so serious. jihoon? saying that out loud? absolutely not. he’d rather chew glass. he’d rather stare at the wall and quietly suffer. because if it’s you, if you’re already part of his everyday, already someone he trusts enough to be around when he’s tired and unfiltered, he’s not going to want to reduce you to nothing, do you get me?

he might try to act like it’s simple at first, like it’s contained, like it’s just a fun little secret you both keep tucked away. but he’s a romantic man, i’m sorry, i KNOW it in my bones. he’s the type that gets attached in the most inconvenient way possible, like a song getting stuck in your head. he won’t admit it until it’s already too late, until he’s already thinking about you when you’re not there, already noticing your absence like it’s a missing piece of his routine.

because you’re different in his life. you’re not one of the boys, and that matters, not in a weird gender-war way, but in a real, human way. there’s something about the way you exist that changes the air around him. you bring this female caring energy (without momming ofc), this vividness that doesn’t feel loud but feels warm, like a lamp turned on in a dark room. you notice when he’s quiet for too long. you offer him the last bite of something without making it a big deal. you ask him if he ate. you tease him in a way that doesn’t embarrass him. you look at him like he’s not just “jihoon from the group” but like he’s a whole person. and that kind of attention, that kind of softness, sticks to him, it worms its way into his life and makes a little nest there.

so yeah, if you start sneaking around with him, it wouldn’t be this explosive, messy, public thing. it’d be small, it’d look like nothing from the outside, but it would feel like everything when you’re inside it.

it’d be late, everyone half-asleep or distracted, some dumb movie playing in the background that nobody’s actually watching. and you’d catch him watching you instead, just for a second, just that quick flick of his eyes, and it would hit you like a punch; oh, maybe he wants me?? not like a random urge. like a choice he’s making over and over. and you’d feel your stomach drop because you’d realize you want him too, in that stupid, greedy way that isn’t just about seeex. 

and the secret would become this thing you carry around all day like a little spark in your pocket. you’d be standing in the kitchen with the others, nodding along to some conversation you don’t care about, and you’d feel jihoon behind you, close enough that you can sense him without turning around. he wouldn’t touch you, obviously, he’s not reckless. but the suspense would be there anyway, humming under your skin, and it would be so fucking hot, honestly, because nothing’s happening and yet everything is happening. your brain would be screaming, your face would be neutral, and he’d be acting normal like he’s not the reason your thoughts are filthy as hell.

and then when you finally get a moment alone again ,just a sliver of privacy, it would feel like exhaling after holding your breath all day. like you can finally be real for five seconds. and he’d still be quiet and calm. but the second you’re close enough, it would be obvious; he’s been thinking about it too, he’s been holding it in too, he just does it better than anyone else!!

and that’s why he’s perfect for it. because he can keep a secret without making you feel like one.

he’d let you invade his routine in the softest ways, he’d make room for you like it’s accidental, like it’s nothing, but suddenly you’re always there, your charger plugged into his outlet, your hair tie on his wrist, your hoodie on his chair. and he wouldn’t say “stay.” he wouldn’t even ask tbh, he’d just keep leaving the door open for you, again and again, until you realize you’re not sneaking around anymore. 

and since you know i'm not the best with fluffs, here's the SEX part you've been waiting for; 

jihoon would never rush it, that’s the first thing you gotta understand. he’d take his sweet fucking time even when the clock’s ticking and the rest of the dorm could BARGE in any second. he’d have you backed up against the wall in some random empty bathroom while everyone enjoyed the airbnb your group of friend rented for the weekend, your back pressed to the cool tiles, legs already shaking before he even touches you properly.

he’d start slow, always. hand sliding up your thigh under your skirt, the tip of his fingers dragging lazy circles on the inside until you’re squirming. “stay still,” he’d mutter quietly, not even looking at your face yet, just watching his own hand disappear under the fabric. he’d hook your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off, because why waste time when he already knows exactly how wet you are for him.

and you would be dreeenched. he’d feel it the second his fingertips brush your folds, slick, hot, coating him immediately. he wouldn’t say anything about it at first, just let out this quiet, almost annoyed little breath like he can’t believe how easy you get for him. then he’d drag those two fingers up, collecting all that wetness, spreading it over your clit in the slowest, softest circles. not pressing hard, just gliding, teasing the hood, letting your own slick make everything slippery and obscene.

jihoon would watch your face the whole time, eyes half-lidded, lips parted just enough that you can see the tip of his tongue when he swallows. he’d notice every twitch, how your hips jerk when he circles just right, how your breath hitches when he drags the pad of his middle finger flat over the swollen little bud. and when your clit’s already hard, puffy, standing out like it’s begging, he would get mean in the gentlessst way possible.

he’d focus right on the tip. that tiny, hypersensitive peak. using just the lightest pressure, barely there, feather-soft, rubbing tiny, tight circles with the very tip of his finger, using your own wetness to make it glide smooth. no rough friction, no pinching.

you’d feel that hot agony that’s almost too much, the kind that makes your thighs clamp around his wrist even though you’re dying for him to keep going. he’d feel you clench around nothing, see your back arch off the wall, and he’d still keep that exact same rhythm, eventhough you are moving a lot. “breathe,” he’d whisper, free hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw like he’s soothing you through the torture. but he doesn’t stop, actualyl he NEVER stops when you’re like this.

jihoon would lean in then, lips brushing your ear. “you’re dripping down my wrist, feel that?” he’d let his fingers slide inside, just enough to push it all back inside you, slow and a bit shallow, barely two knuckles deep, while his thumb stays glued to your clit, still working that tiny point in the same feather-light circles. the contrast would fit perfectly; the stretch of his fingers filling you up, the maddening tease on your clit.

your knees would buckle. you’d grab his shoulders, nails digging in, trying to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. that great, curling agony would hit, making your vision blur and your breath come in pathetic little gasps. he’d feel you start to flutter around his fingers, walls pulsing, and that’s when he’d finally press just a fraction harder on your clit, still light, but enough to tip you over.

“let it happen, hm?” he’d murmur, voice so fucking calm while you’re falling apart. “i’ve got you.” and he would. he’d keep rubbing through it, drawing it out until you’re shaking, whimpering into his neck, thighs trembling so bad he has to pin you against the wall with his body so you don’t slide down.

also,, jihoon would be the absolute fucking menace when you're stuck in those tight spots, like crammed in a van on a road trip with the whole crew, or holed up in some shitty hotel room where the walls are paper-thin and your friends are giggling in the next room over. he thrives on that shit, the risk of getting caught without actually blowing the cover. he'd wait until everyone's dozing off or distracted, maybe during a late-night drive when the music's low and the highway hums under the tires, or after lights out when the only sounds are snores and muffled whispers.

he'd start subtle, always. sliding his hand over your thigh under the blanket in the back seat, fingers inching higher while he stares out the window like he's lost in thought while he is feeling you tense up because you know exactly where this is going. “relax,” he'd whisper, lips brushing your ear as he leans in like he's just adjusting his seat. his fingers would dip under your shorts or skirt or pants or idk, no rush, just tracing the seam of your panties until you're shifting, trying not to make a sound.

and here's where he gets nasty as hell, he'd never hush those wet sounds. fuck no. he'd tease you on purpose, dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting that slick that's already building because let's be real, being this close to him in secret always gets you going. he'd circle your clit lightly at first, then dip inside, curling just enough to make you clench, and that's when it starts; that obscene, creamy schlk schlk schlk every time he pumps in and out. loud enough in the quiet space that your face burns, but he fucking loves it. his eyes would flick to yours. 

if you try to clamp your thighs shut to muffle it, he'd pry them back open with his free hand, shaking his head slightly. “don't,” he'd mutter, holding your gaze so you can't look away. he'd keep that rhythm going, fingers fucking into you deeper, wetter, making sure every thrust pulls out that filthy, squelching noise, like your pussy's betraying you right there in front of everybody. 

and if you're traveling solo with him, he'd amp it up. pull you into his lap in the hotel bed, sheets tangled, and fuck you slow and deep, no condom because why bother. he'd grind in balls-deep, stirring his cum inside you from the last round, turning it all creamy and messy, that schlk turning into a full-on sloppy symphony.

he'd hold his moans back, biting his lip until it's white, jaw clenched tight so only these quiet, guttural grunts slip out. but if you get too loud, gasping or whimpering, his hand would clamp over your mouth firm but gentle, fingers pressing just enough to remind you. “shh, y/n,” he'd breathe, eyes locked on where he's disappearing inside you, mesmerized by the way your wetness coats him, strings of it pulling every time he draws back. the wet smacks, the creamy churn, he'd never try to drown them out. he'd slow down on purpose sometimes, pulling almost all the way out just to slam back in and make it echo louder, like he's moaning through the noise itself, each one pulling a stifled groan from his throat.

if u get ashamed, he'd eat that up. he'd see it on your face, cheeks flushed, eyes squeezing shut like you can't handle how embarrassing it is, how your body's so loud and needy, and it'd turn him on more. “look at you,” he'd whisper, free hand tilting your chin so you have to watch too, “so fucking wet for me, can't even hide it.” he'd tease you mercilessly, thumb rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts to make you gush even more, if it's a creampie situation, he'd pull out halfway through your orgasm just to watch his cum mix with yours, then push back in slow, savoring the extra gush that comes with it, like he's painting you from the inside.

jihoon would never fake like he hates it. 

another thing is that i think jihoon would lose his entire fucking mind the second you drop to your knees in his studio. door locked, purple light on, beats paused mid-loop because he can’t focus anymore with you looking up at him like that. he’d be slouched in his chair, legs spread just enough, sweatpants pushed down to mid-thigh, cock already hard and leaking because you’d been teasing him for the last hour with little touches and glances while he tried to work.

your hand wrapped around him, stroking lazy and firm, thumb swiping over the tip to spread the precum. but the real shit starts when you dip lower. when you cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm, feeling how heavy and tight they are. jihoon would suck in a sharp breath through his teeth, head tipping back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut for a second like he’s trying not to come right then. 

“fuck… yeah, right there,” he’d mutter, one hand sliding into your hair, fingers flexing like he needs something to ground himself. you’d lick a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, then take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, but you’d keep playing with his balls the whole time, squeezing lightly, tugging just enough to make his hips twitch, massaging them in slow circles while you bob your head.

that gets him… inspired? not just the wet heat of your mouth, though that’s already killing him. it’s the attention to his balls, the way you cradle them like they’re just as important, the soft hum you make when you feel them draw up tighter. he’d start breathing harder, little choked-off sounds slipping out despite how hard he tries to stay quiet. 

sometimes he wouldn’t even let you finish him with your mouth. he’d pull you off gently, hand replacing yours on his cock, jerking himself fast and sloppy while you keep fondling his balls, pressing your lips to the sensitive skin right above them, kissing and licking while he watches you with dark, blown-out eyes. the sight of you down there, devoted, shameless, worshipping that part of him, he’d come hard, spilling over his fist and your fingers, thighs shaking, a quiet, broken “fuck” punched out of him.

after, he’d just sit there panting, staring at you like you rewired his brain. he’d pull you up into his lap, kiss you messy and grateful, muttering against your mouth, “you have no idea what you just did to my next track.” because hes somehow already hearing it in his head, som slow, filthy bassline, heavy and pulsing, inspired by the way you made him feel completely fucking owned in the best way.

also, i think jihoon isn’t the type to walk around with a mile-long list of kinks and fetishes tattooed on his brain. he doesn’t need a whole playbook of crazy shit to get off. most days, just the sight of you with hair messy, lips swollen from kissing, thighs trembling because you’re already soaked just from grinding on his lap, is more than enough to make him hard and horny!!

but the second you whisper something you’re curious about, something that makes your cheeks burn when you say it out loud, he doesn’t even blink. no judgment, no “really? that’s your thing?” he just nods once, and goes, “okay. show me what you want.”

vibrators? he’d pull one out of the drawer like he’s had it waiting, lube already on the nightstand because he’s always prepared. he’d hold it against your clit while he fucks you slow and deep, watching your face the whole time, adjusting the speed until you’re arching and whining his name. spanking? he’d flip you over his knee without a word, palm warm and heavy, starting light and building until your ass is pink and stinging and you’re dripping down your thighs. he’d rub soothing circles after every few smacks, kissing the back of your neck.

he’d try anything once if it’s something you’re into; bondage, edging, roleplay, even the weirder stuff you’re too shy to google. he’d ask questions quietly beforehand: “how hard? how long? tell me if it’s too much.” and he’d stop the second you tap out, no questions, no guilt-tripping, just pull you into his chest and holding you until your breathing evens out.

and i just know his after care is the best of the best. he’s not performative about it, he doesn’t make a whole production. he’d reach for the wet wipes he keeps right there on the nightstand, warm ones because he thought ahead and popped them in the microwave for ten seconds. he’d clean you up so gently, wiping between your thighs, your stomach, anywhere that’s sticky, while you’re still boneless and floating. if you slump right after, too fucked out to move, he’d just tuck the blanket around you, kiss your forehead, and grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “drink a little, baby,” he’d say, voice soft, holding it to your lips until you take a few sips.

sometimes he’d even give up his own shit just to make sure you’re happy. like that one time you mentioned offhand that you hate sleeping in complete darkness because it makes you anxious; he started leaving the little desk lamp on low, even though he usually needs pitch black to crash after late nights. or when you said you get cold easy after sex, he’d pull out an extra hoodie, his favorite black one, and drape it over you before you even ask. he’d let you steal his pillow because you like the way it smells like him, even if it means he’s contorting himself around you all night.

he’d skip his usual post-sex shower if you’re clingy and just want to be held, staying sticky and sweaty with you curled against his chest. he’d even pause his music production for the night if you’re in the mood to talk or cuddle instead of him disappearing into the studio. “i can finish the track tomorrow,” he’d mumble into your hair, arms tight around you like letting go isn’t an option.

if things go riiight, jihoon would be so fucking exclusive the second he realizes he actually likes you, not just the surface-level, you’re hot and fun shit.

it wouldn’t be dramatic, no big declarations, no posting cryptic lyrics on his insta story. but hed realize with the way he stops replying to flirty dms overnight. the way his phone stays face-down when you’re around because he doesn’t want you thinking there’s anyone else pulling his attention. he’d delete dating apps without a word, not because he’s trying to prove something, but because the thought of even scrolling through them feels pointless when you’re right there.

sex with him would hit different because of that exclusivity. every time he touches you, it’s like he’s saying “this is only for you.” he’d look at you like you’re the only person in the world who’s ever made him feel this way, eyes soft but burning, hands mapping your body like he’s memorizing it for keeps. he’d whisper your name against your skin like it’s sacred, like saying it out loud is a privilege he doesn’t give anyone else. and when he’s inside you, slow and deep, holding eye contact, it’s sooo “i chose you and i’m not choosing anyone else” way.

you’d feel exclusive down to your bones. the way he remembers exactly how you like to be touched, the little spots that make you gasp, the rhythm that makes your toes curl. he’d never rush, never half-ass it, because to him, time with you is rare and precious! even if it’s quick and sneaky in the studio or the back of a car, he makes sure you come first, always, like it’s his personal mission.

and here’s the mature part that i absolutely LOVE about him; he wouldn’t pressure you for more. if you’re not ready to date date, if you just want this secret, steady thing that’s yours and his, he’d hold it for years without complaint. no guilt trips, no “what are we?” ultimatums. hed just keep showing up the same way he was from the very beginning, reliable, attentive, exclusive. texting you goodnight even if he’s halfway across the world on tour. sending you random voice notes of beats he made that remind him of you. slipping into your bed at 3am after a long day, wrapping around you without needing to talk about it. it’d be this unspoken agreement that you’re each other’s safe place, no labels required.

but if one day you decide you do want more? if you look at him across the room and think “fuck, i want this for real”? he’d try. god, he’d try so hard. he’d sit you down, quiet and serious, and say “i’ve been waiting for you to be ready. if you want this, i’m all in.” and it would be awesome. he’d be the boyfriend who plans lowkey dates that feel like home; late-night drives, studio sessions where you fall asleep on his couch, cooking together at 2am because neither of you can sleep. he’d hold your hand in public without hesitation, introduce you to his family like you’ve always been there, make space in his life like you were always meant to fit.

NERVOUSNESS CREEPS UP AS CHAN PUSHES OPEN THE FRONT DOOR. The chill from outside clings to his coat, but the warmth of the apartment buffets him as he steps in and shuts the door. He shakes the snow off his boots, careful not to get it anywhere but the entryway rug or you'll kill him. His heart is pounding as he glances at the clock above the mantle, knowing he's running late again.

The Christmas party at Joshua's starts in less than an hour, and Chan knows how upset you get when plans run behind schedule. Committing to social obligations and getting out of the house with you is always a carefully planned event - even down to the hour. So when he sees that he's going to make the three of you late again, he's already prepping an apology.

Seungcheol is probably already dressed, which is the good news. If Chan knows the two of you well enough, Seungcheol is probably sitting with that lazy, patient smile of his as you run around the room to put on your final touches while fuming about being behind schedule.

"Guys?" Chan calls, shrugging off his coat. The living room is dim and quiet as he hurries toward the bedroom where he heres a muffled in here, Channie - your voice. His stomach flips at the nickname.

Nudging the door open, Chan opens his mouth to immediately begin apologizing, but the words die on his tongue. The room is dim but bathed in candlelight, the flames flickering on every surface you and Seungcheol - probably you - managed to cover.

The bed is made up fresh with the pillows fluffed and the sheets neatly tucked, which would make Chan think was odd if he wasn't distracted by the sight waiting for him dead center of the mattress.

You're dress in a red silk slip, perched right in the middle of the bed with your knees folded under you and your hands on your lap. Chan's heart starts slamming, eyes tracing the way the hem rides up your thighs and dips low on your chest. Behind you, Seungcheol is leaning against the headboard, one hand tucked behind his head, the other on his lap, fingers tapping. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his chest, sleeves rolled to expose his forearms.

Chan swallows hard, feeling like a prey animal. You're both wearing matching smiles - which can only mean trouble - and your eyes are sparkling. He realizes neither of you are dressed for a party - no heels for you, no suit jacket for Seungcheol. Chan's confusion deepens, his bag slipping from his shoulder wear he drops it near the door.

"Uhh," He chokes a little. "Aren't we supposed to be leaving soon?" He rubs the back of his neck. It's overly hot suddenly, and he can't help the way his eyes snag on you. On Seungcheol. On you again. "Joshua's party? I got held up for that meeting across town. I can change quick…?"

It comes out as a question because he's unsure if he's supposed to change. He'd expected you both to be ready to go and eager to try and make up for time, but he had not anticipated this.

Seungcheol laughs. "Sit down, Channie."

"What about Joshua's party?"

"It's tomorrow." You pat the mattress. "Come sit."

Chan hesitates, glancing between you. You pout a little and he caves immediately. There are very few things he can deny you. He's never been able to, even before his office crushed turned into genuine love.

He crosses the room, sinking onto the mattress, the bed dipping under his weight. His back is to Seungcheol but he angles himself so that he's got you both in his peripheral. You grin, walking on your knees toward him, your hands going to his shoulders. He immediately relaxes, your touch warm and inviting as you lean around him to press a kiss to his cheek.

"What's going on?" Chan murmurs, voice catching as your fingers kneed the muscles in his shoulders.

Seungcheol exchanges a look with you. "It's been a year, you know?"

"A year?"

Chan blinks and goes through his Rolodex of dates. You and Seungcheol have been dating since spring years ago, and he's only been dating the two of you since February. Your promotion had come only four months ago, and Seungcheol closed that deal in January-

"Since the office Christmas party," Seungcheol supplies, voice gentle. He cocks his head, smiling. "Since we got to give you our gift in my office."

Heat floods Chan's face as the memories come crashing back - the taste of champagne on your lips, Seungcheol's guiding timbre as Chan tasted you for the first time, the way Chan had unraveled you right there on the couch.

He swallows. "I guess I didn't realize."

"That's okay," you murmur, cupping his face to turn it toward you. "We wanted to celebrate. Joshua agreed to tell you his party was tonight. It's not. It's tomorrow."

Seungcheol doesn't move. Chan fights a shiver under Seungcheol's gaze, the older man's mouth kicking up in a smirk as you lean forward to press a kiss behind Chan's ear. He does shiver then, the heat of your hands drifting down his arms and the smell of your sandalwood and vanilla perfume making his thoughts hazy.

"You've been working so hard lately," Seungcheol murmurs. "We wanted to celebrate though."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm." Seungcheol stands. Chan looks up at him as he towers over the bed for a moment, looking down at Chan with so much adoration it forces him to avert his eyes, face aflame. Seungcheol is still an intensity he hasn't adjusted to. "Let us take care of you, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Good boy."

The praise sends a tingle down Chan's spine. He only has a second to register Seungcheol is moving before Seungcheol is on his knees, hands reaching for the buttons on Chan's shirt. You help Seungcheol, sweeping your hands under the fabric to sweep it down Chan's arms.

His thoughts turn to static as you pepper his throat with light kisses before joining Seungcheol on the floor, slipping off the bed easily. He looks down at you both and realizes he's fucked. Completely, wholeheartedly fucked. The look you both give him tells him a single thing - you both want to eat him alive.

Seungcheol works the buttons on Chan's jeans open while your hands go to his thighs, kneading. He realizes he's barely breathing, shaking under your dual attention. He lifts his hips hen you ask, letting you pull his pants down, boxers following in one fluid motion.

Chan is painfully fucking hard. He has been since he stepped in the room. To make matters worse, you make a greedy sound at the back of your throat as you look up at him through your lashes, a grin on your face.

"So pretty," you whisper. You reach for him, fingers brushing up his shaft. Chan let's out a pitiful moan at the contact, hips twitching. "So fucking pretty, Chan."

Seungcheol hums in agreement, leaning in to press a kiss to Chan's inner thigh. Chan gasps, hands fisting the sheets as you mirror the action on his other side, your lips soft and warm.

"Relax, baby," Seungcheol says. "We've got you."

Seungcheol's warm hand replaces yours, stroking from the base of Chan's cock all the way to the sticky tip. Chan bucks into the touch, a whine escaping his throat. You grin and lean forward, tongue darting out to lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft, meeting Seungcheol's hand.

Chan is done for. You and Seungcheol working in tandem is both heaven and hell. Seungcheol takes the head of Chan's cock into his mouth, sucking gently as his tongue swirls around the tip. Chan moans, head falling back, eyes fluttering as pleasure spikes through him. He feels your tongue scrape down his cock, teasing and wet and warm, the dual sensations making him nearly come right there.

"Fuck," Chan rasps.

He threads a hand into Seungcheol's hair, his other hand reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. He squeezes you as you kiss and lick at him, trading off with Seungcheol seamlessly. Seungcheol pulls off with a wet pop and a line of spit only to be replace with your mouth stretching around Chan's length, swallowing him down.

Seungcheol watches, eyes dark, lips wet. "That's it, baby. Take him deep. Look how wrecked he is already."

You listen, taking him in deeper, cheeks hollowing while Seungcheol's hand slides lower, cupping Chan gently. He whimpers, hips twitching, but Seungcheol's free hand presses him down, keeping him under control.

Pulling back, you look up at Chan, a string of saliva connecting your lips to Chan's cock. Seungcheol dives in immediately, tongue lapping at the mess, before taking Chan deep again. Chan's stomach knots and he lets out a broken sound, collapsing to the mattress, breathing erratic as the two of you share him like that, mouths alternating, sometimes kissing each other around him, sometimes fighting for control.

"Please," he begs, fingers squeezing yours. "Close."

Seungcheol pulls of him, lips glassy and red. "Not yet."

In moment, Seungcheol is on his feet, pulling you with him. The two of you help move Chan to the center of the bed. He can feel his heartbeat through the mattress, the room spinning in candlelight as Seungcheol grabs a pillow and props it under Chan's head.

Chan reaches for you on instinct, but Seungcheol catches his hands, pinning them gently above Chan's head for a moment.

"You want a taste?" Chan nods eagerly, a whine stuck in his throat. It was why he was reaching for you. Seungcheol grins and turns to you. "Let him taste you, baby. While I get him ready."

Chan nods eagerly. "Please."

You shuffle forward and Chan groans. Of course you're wearing nothing under the scrap of red silk. Of course you're already wet and wanting, thighs bracketing his head. He doesn't wait for you, hands gripping your thighs to pull you toward his mouth until he meets your core. He groans into you, tongue delving in immediately.

The sounds you make are addicting. Chan loves them, chasing them as he laps at your pussy, slow and messy and hungry. He knows how you like it now, his tongue circling your clit lazily before sucking at you greedily. It makes your thighs twitch, his name leaving your mouth in breathy, honeyed whispers.

Seungcheol settles behind you somewhere, the bed dipping under his weight. Chan whimpers into your cunt when he feels Seungcheol part his legs wider, fingers slicked with warm lube tracing his entrance teasingly.

"Relax for me, baby," Seungcheol coos, pressing. Chan whines but does, focusing on the way you melt into his mouth, the way your fingers thread through his hair.

Chan tenses only for a second as Seungcheol presses in a finger, sinking in knuckle by knuckle. Above him, you grin down, chasing the flick of Chan's tongue on your clit while Seungcheol pumps his fingers, pressing into a spot that makes Chan see stars.

"Good boy," Seungcheol praises, free hand stroking Chan's thighs. "Sounds like you're doing so good."

"He is," you promise. "It feels so good, Cheol."

Chan whines, the vibrations buzzing through you, making your thighs quake. His tongue dips inside you, then back to your clit, sucking softly. Seungcheol watches, timing his thrusts to match Chan's rhythm, curling his fingers each time Chan licks upward.

You come first, unexpectedly, grinding down hard as waves crash over you. Chan drinks you greedily, lapping until you're shivering, oversensitive. You lift off him carefully, collapsing beside him, pressing kisses to his slick mouth.

He kisses you back eagerly - he loves kissing you. The way he feels your fingers cradle his jaw, the way your tongue sweeps against his, the way he makes you shy, letting him control the kiss despite not being in control of Seungcheol wrecking him.

When Seungcheol presses another finger in, you shut Chan up with a kiss. Your hands are all over him, fingers tracing down his arms, his chest. He feels like he's about to meet god when your nails scrape the hard planes of his waist, Seungcheol laughing as Chan seizes up and almost comes from the dual assault.

"Can you take more?" Seungcheol asks.

Chan is already nodding before Seungcheol finishes the question. "Yes, please."

"Alright."

Seungcheol pulls his fingers out. Chan immediately hates the feeling of being empty, but it's replaced with feral hunger for you as you lay back on the bed, giddy and breathless as Seungcheol pats Chan's legs.

"Fuck her for me," he murmurs. "Nice and slow."

"Say less," Chan rasps.

Daze, Chan rolls over on top of you, pinning you to the bed. His thoughts are a sticky, staticky mess, but when you look up at him with stars in his eyes, he realizes he's so painfully in love he could die right now and be happy.

He would prefer not to die right now, though. Not with Seungcheol tapping Chan playfully on the ass to tell him to get a move on before he starts getting undressed. Not with the way you hook a leg around Chan's waist, the silk shift lifting.

You pull him down for a kiss as Chan presses the tip of his cock to your entrance, both of you moaning. He sinks in slowly - just the way you like it - feeling the way you squeeze down on him immediately, just as effected as him as he is you.

When he bottoms out, he pauses. You shiver beneath him, leaning your head up to kiss him everywhere you can - his neck, his throat, his chest, his arms. He lowers himself onto his elbows, catching your mouth with his to steal a kiss.

"Feels so good," you pant when he breaks for air, hips pressed to yours. "Please give me more."

Chan does. He rolls his hips slowly, marveling in the way your face scrunches up, your eyes creasing as you tip your head back into the bed, throat exposed. He scrapes his teeth down your neck, loving the way you melt for him, as he fucks you.

The weight of Seungcheol shifts the bed again and as Chan fucks you slow and deep, he looks over his shoulder to see Seungcheol on his knees behind him, fisting his cock, lube slicking his grip.

Seungcheol is a marvel. Chan thought so the first day he joined the company. Had you asked him that day if he ever imagined his hotter than normal boss and his drop dead beautiful girlfriend - Chan's coworker - would ever have him like this, he'd have called a therapist to tell them he was delusional.

Now, he can't imagine being anywhere else but here.

Here, where you and Seungcheol have fit him in like the perfect puzzle piece into your life. Here where the two of you love him more than he ever imagined being loved before. Here where Seungcheol looks at Chan with shining eyes, giving him a kiss that feels far too gentle for the way Seungcheol nudges Chan open.

Chan gasps, sucking in a sharp breath as he pauses fucking you, so Seungcheol can slide home inch by inch. The dual assault of you squeezing down on his cock and Seungcheol stretching him wide makes Chan see white, the room a scatter of candlelight and stars.

Once fully seated, it's Seungcheol who sets the pace, rolling his hips slowly into Chan, forcing him to drive his hips back and forth. It's overwhelming and Chan gives up, letting Seungcheol control the flow, Seungcheol's chest pressing to his back as Chan presses into you.

Chan kisses you again, raw and messy as you let out the broken little sounds he loves. You stare up at them both with glassy eyes, mouth parted, heart hammering like a hummingbird's wings beneath Chan.

Seungcheol's hand comes around to pull at your silk shift, your chest spilling out. Chan doesn't have to be told but he feels Seungcheol hand on the back of his head anyway, pressing him to your chest as he catches a nipple with his mouth, tongue flicking.

You make a high pitched sound and Chan grins, biting you a little. Seungcheol laughs, taking it as a sign to fuck Chan properly.

"Hear that?" Seungcheol rasps. "Fuck her just like that."

You whimper, nails digging into Chan's shoulders as he moves, guided by Seungcheol's rhythm. Chan's face is flushed, eyes locked on you beneath him.

"Love you," he whispers wrecked. It spills out of him. "Both of you - fuck - I - fuck-"

Seungcheol speeds up slightly, angling to hit that spot deep inside of Chan with each thrust. Chan cries out, pace faltering, but Seungcheol keeps him steady, fucking him through it. You clench around Chan, pulling another moan from him as you tremble, the sign of your orgasm coming on.

"Make her come," Seungcheol warns.

Chan nods, licking up your neck as a hand slips between you. Your legs squeeze around him tight when his fingers find your clit, circling in the mess you've made in time with Seungcheol's thrusts.

You come with a broken sound, squeezing Chan so tight he can't help but spill immediately after you, both of you whining as you ride out your high together. You and Seungcheol are ruthless though, Seungcheol starting to fuck into Chan with wild, sloppy thrusts while you squeeze down on him.

"Oh god," Chan squeaks, the overstimulation slamming into him. He can barely speak, going catatonic while he's pinned between the two of you, your mouth everywhere on his face, Seungcheol's lips pressing to Chan's shoulders. "I'm-fuck!"

Tears prick the corners of his eyes he slams into another orgasm. He wasn't even sure he could do that, but it makes his stomach squeeze tight, his limbs locking as he comes again between you and Seungcheol, your hands all over him, murmuring how much you both love him.

Seungcheol comes somewhere in between, hips slowing until he stops, chest heaving against Chan's back. For a moment, the three of you stay like that, Chan drifting in a sea of stars between the two of you. He smells your sandalwood and vanilla, drunk on it as he drifts.

Eventually, Seungcheol pulls out first. Chan makes a sound but manages to lift himself on shaky arms, removing himself from you and collapsing next to you. You tangle together, limbs entwined, breaths mingling as Seungcheol presses kisses to Chan's back.

"Happy… um. It's not an anniversary so."

"Happy giving season," Seungcheol laughs, throat raw. "Again."

And he would tell anyone he was happily whipped. His cheeks flush like the tips of his ears, eyes wide, mouth salivating from just the thought of you. You, who is so pretty and popular, who took his spare keys to his dorm with a sly smile after taking his heart. His eyes glossed over as his mind started to replay how you ruined him for anyone else. Your lips wrapped around his big cock, sucking him so sweetly until he was a quivering mess. And then shoving your panties in his mouth as you rode him like your personal dildo?

A shiver runs down Hoshi’s spine, his cock swelling, straining against his pants as he gets off the elevator. His feet carried him down the hallway, his tongue wetting his lips in anticipation. You had told him how good he felt, that you wanted him, and he was free to have you as much as he liked.

Soonyoung’s keys fumbled in his hand. He really hoped you were in his bed right now. Fuck, just being in his dorm was enough. Heat crawled up his neck, his chest heaving for air as his mind raced. He didn’t want to masturbate in the shower to the thought of you if you weren’t there. He wanted you, he needed you.

He stumbled through his front door, his eyes hazed, scanning the living room and kitchen, a pout forming when he didn’t see you. “Pretty?” He called out, his ears perking up to hear your pretty voice, but no luck.

He sighed heavily, his cock was hard and already leaking precum, and he dropped all his stuff on the couch. It seemed he had a date with his hand tonight, but maybe he could call you? A blush darkened on his cheeks as he thought about it. He could listen to your pretty voice as you teased him, call him needy, fuck maybe he could send you a video of what you did to him. Show you how hard he was for you as he fucked his fist to the thought of you.

He was already tossing his shirt onto the ground, his fingers fumbling with his pants as he staggered into his bedroom.

And oh-

You were here. And you were in his bed. Sleeping on your stomach, wearing one of his big punk T-shirts, and nothing else. One of your legs was hooked up higher than your other one, and he could see your pretty pussy peeking under his shirt.

Oh fuck.

His eyes glossed over, his brain fogging up. So pretty, you were so pretty. And he only had one thought: he needed you.

The room felt too hot, his hands shoving the rest of his clothes off as he kept his eyes on your sleeping form. His heart raced, climbing onto his bed, his body lying next to yours, only his shirt that you were wearing, separating him from you. His hand hesitated. You had told him this type of scenario would be okay. That it would be so hot to wake up to him. And why else would you have let yourself in his dorm, lying in his bed in nothing but his shirt?

He knows he has your permission, but it still makes his breath catch in his throat. He’s so hard his mind spins. And he can’t keep his eyes off your pretty face, his palm sliding down between your open legs. You’re so warm, the heat between your thighs only making his mouth water more.

He starts slow. Dipping his two fingers through your folds, you’re wet, and it only makes his jaw clench. Did you go to sleep thinking about him finding you like this? Are you dreaming about him? His fingertips gather the sweet slick, dragging it down until he can smear it on your sensitive clit. And the soft sigh you let out sends a thrill through him. His breathing grows shallow, his eyes taking in every little shift of your sleeping form. You melt into the mattress when his fingers rub slowly and steadily, and he can feel you getting wetter after each stroke.

Fuck, he needs more. He needs you.

His sanity hangs by a thread when he’s sinking two fingers into your pretty pussy. His breath hitched, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your gummy walls grip his fingers tightly. He stills when you gasp, his eyes flickering from where he’s stuffing you with his fingers to your pretty face. Your nose scrunches for a second, but then you're shifting back, welcoming his fingers deeper into your wet channel, your legs opening wider for him subconsciously.

He curls his digits, his coarse fingertips dragging down your sensitive walls as he thrusts deep and slow. The room fills with the wet squelches of your pussy slurping his fingers, your body relaxing enough for him to give you a third finger, earning him another sigh from you. Fuck, he’s enjoying this so much. Watching your sleeping form take his fingers so warmly. He wants to think subconsciously, you know it’s him, and that’s why you’re dripping your sweet juices so heavily. And the thought of it being true is enough to make the last of his resolve snap.

His fingers slip from your drooling cunt, only to wrap around his shaft. He covers his length in your slick, mixing it with his precum before he’s kneeling between your open legs. He presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, “I need you so badly.” A confession whimpered into your skin as he notches the tip of his fat cock on your entrance.

Hoshi’s jaw drops, his eyelashes fluttering as his first few inches sink into your sopping pussy. Your walls throb around his thick girth, feeling every ridge and pulse of his veins that run along his cock, rubbing your gummy walls deliciously. He could cum right now if he wasn’t doing everything he could not to. His fingers curl tightly into the bedsheets, his abs flexing, biceps shaking as he finally bottoms out.

Heaven sent. Your pussy was heaven-sent. Made for him. He could feel his drool threatening to escape past his lips as he pulled his hips back about halfway. Your cunt constricted, squeezing him, trying to keep him from leaving. And if he could stay inside you forever, he would.

He’s absolutely addicted, and his sanity finally breaks. He wanted to be in control, to go nice and slow for you. But the grip your pussy has on him makes his whole body shake.

His first thrust is hard. Rough enough that he’s got your body moving up higher onto his bed. And your yelp lets him know you’re awake. Your mouth hangs, your eyes widen, and your moan is loud. His thick cock splits you open, forcing its way deep inside you, that his mushroom tip - angry red - smooches your cervix with a filthy kiss, globs of his precum coating your walls with each thrust.

“Oh my god,” your back arches, and Soonyoung whines. His hands are on either side of your head, trapping you underneath him as his cum-heavy balls smack your pretty clit with each dangerous roll of his hips.

He sniffles, his eyes blurry as his mouth parts for his whimpers. “N-needed you,” he sounds wrecked. Rutting into your dripping cunt harder, desperately, “co-couldn’t help m'self-“ One of his legs hooks over yours, and he grinds deeper, as if he was trying to reach your throat.

Your gummy walls clench hard around him, your jaw slacking open wider as you gasp. Your hands reach up to rest on the wall above your head, protecting you from being rammed into it from how rough Hoshi pounds into you. He’s like an animal in heat, his hands wrapping around your throat as his lips mouth your ear sloppily. Your cunt sloshes, soaking his cock and dripping onto the sheets under you. “Feel so good, jus’ like that-“ your praise only makes Soonyoung more frenzied.

He loved your praise, loved that he was making you feel as good as you did for him. Your hips pushed back to meet each one of his thrusts, and he groaned in your ear.

You loved how vocal Soonyoung was. He could never hide his feelings, and each groan, each whimper only made the fire in your stomach burn brighter.

And Soonyoung is right there with you. His hand is a warm anchor around your throat as his forehead rests on the back of your shoulder. He could hear the slams of his bed knocking into the wall mix with the splashes of your pussy creaming around his cock. And he couldn’t help but babble. Tell you how good you felt wrapped around him. “Sq-squeezin’ me s’hard, Pretty. ‘M gonna cum,” your movements to meet his grew sloppier, faster, his words making you moan obscenely. His lungs burned, and he quickly realized you like that. “You want me to cum?”

Your eyes were glossy like your lips, your head nodding enthusiastically. “Inside, you ca-can cum ins-side, Baby.” Your tongue lolls out, feeling his cock stir inside you deliciously. Fuck, he felt so good.

And hearing your permission only had him moving harder. His breath caught in his throat, a pathetic whine leaving his lips as he grabbed your waist. His fingers dipped into your soft hips, his jaw clenching as he manhandled you to move up and down his cock for him. With each smack of his hips, his balls tapped against your puffy clit, sending jolts of electricity to zap through your body.

A few more rough thrusts turned sloppy, and Hoshi was babbling 'thank you' over and over again before his cock swelled. The tip of his cock twitched against your sweet spot as stripe after stripe of his sticky cum filled your pretty pussy white. His jaw slacked, his head tilting up to the ceiling, and he groaned as he stuffed you full.

Feeling him twitch, sinking his cock as deep as he could in you, triggered your own orgasm. Your gummy walls milked his cock, gushing your own arousal and having a mix of both of your cum to seep from your overfilled pussy. It dripped down onto his bed messily while you both rode out your orgasms, panting heavily.

And it was once Hoshi finally slipped out of you, falling to the right side of you, that you couldn't hold in your giggles any longer. Soonyoung's cheeks were flushed, his lips parted as he panted, but his eyes still twinkled towards you. "That's one way to wake me up," you laughed, and Soonyoung grinned.

"Missed you, Pretty."

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