“I’ve never–” You stumble over your words, thighs rubbing together. Despite your apprehensiveness, you can’t ignore the way your panties sit uncomfortably against you. Clark’s eyes glance at the action. The tips of his ears go red from the sound of it, the slickness of it. “I’ve never, you know, sat on…” You clear your throat, a near whisper. “Sat on someone’s face.” 

“Well, I’ve never had anyone do it to me, either.” He offers, trying to ease your anxiety. His hands sit on either side of your thighs.

You roll your eyes, fingers finding his hand to trace shapes over. “It’s not exactly the same thing, is it?” You tease. 

He stumbles over his words, “Well, no, but,” 

You laugh, leaning forward to press a quick kiss against the side of his mouth. “I’m just teasing you.” You swallow. Brave enough to meet his gaze again. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” The grin overtakes his face again. 

You can’t even remember why you were so nervous as soon as your thighs are on either side of Clark’s face. He wastes no time burying his face between your thighs. He had always loved going down on you, but this was an entirely different experience for him. The feeling of your body weight pressing down onto him. He supported your bottom half with his arms as his mouth nearly covered the entire length of your pussy, tongue teasing and licking down your slit. Your head lulled back at the feelings. “Clark, Clark, I–.” 

“It’s okay, sweet girl. Just let go.” You were thankful for his strength. There was no way you could hold your body up with the feelings he was bringing forth, but it seems the more you let go, the more he does too. More of your body weight sinks down onto him making him grunt and moan against you like a man starved. His hands sit on the outside of your thighs, but have a mind of their own as they grip the fat of your thighs, your ass, your boobs. At the same time, his tongue dipping in and out of your wetness, nose nudging against your clit. “Come on, honey.” Your entire body is warm from his actions and hearing him speak against your pussy only turns you on more. “Grind against my mouth.” His hands match his words as fingers squeeze the flesh, helping you move your hips gently against his face as his tongue flicks against your clit. “So wet, sweetheart.” He praises, hands still moving your body as you fall apart on top of him. Fingers tangle in his dark hair, loving the way he looks completely wrecked beneath you. “Tastes so good, baby. So sweet. So pretty.” Even with his mouth full of pussy, he can’t help but compliment you. He knows what it does to you. 

Sitting on Clark’s face has its advantages, you find. You can get the exact pressure and pace that you need to come undone. The nervousness has melted away into pure need as you work yourself against his mouth. “Oh gosh.” Clark doesn’t stop his minisrrations. He keeps the same speed, tongue working against you with ease. “I’m gonna come, Clark.” 

Clark does find it even more difficult to have you this way. He can’t exactly ease the tension in his cock like he usually does when he’s eating you out. Typically, he’s grinding against the bed, but this time, the only thing that he has to take his mind away from it is to keep eating you out, tasting your sweetness. He swears he hears a gush when you come. He doesn’t stop even when you’re crying out from how sensitive you are, pussy hovering above his face now. His face chases you, pressing a kiss against your clit before you’re falling back against the bed with a breath. Every time you come, you go to hide your face, but Clark is quicker this time, body enveloping you as kisses press against your face. 

"don't," he cut you off, his voice raspy, deeper, and rougher than you had ever heard it. he looked up, his dark eyes dilated so wide they looked almost entirely black, a faint, dark flush creeping up his neck and dusting his cheekbones.

he gripped the insides of your knees, his fingers digging into your skin with a possessiveness that made your blood run hot. "shit—do it again."

"w-what? but i—"

"please," he begged, the word slipping out with a desperate, breathless edge that made your stomach flip. his chest was heaving. "squeeze me again. oh fuck—just like that, baby. lock your legs."

the raw hunger in his expression made it impossible to refuse. slowly, hesitantly, you brought your thighs back together, locking him in place once more, applying a firm, steady pressure against his neck.

a low, ragged groan escaped him, vibrating directly against your sensitive bud. he buried his face back into you, his tongue working with a newfound, frantic intensity that completely derailed your thought process. "harder," he mumbled against your pussy, his hands sliding up to your hips, fingers bruisingly tight as he anchored you. "squeeze harder, baby."

you complied, tightening your hold, completely overwhelmed by the blinding intensity of it. you were caught so deeply in the throes of your own approaching climax that the world narrowed down to just the pressure of your legs and the wicked, relentless motion of his mouth.

because of the sensory overload, you didn't notice the subtle, rhythmic motion beneath you at first. you didn't realize that with every tight squeeze of your thighs restricting his airflow, choso was heavily, desperately humping his clothed length straight into the mattress. he was completely losing himself in the friction, his hips rolling in a tight, frantic pattern against the sheets, riding the intoxicating sensation of being choked by you.

your climax hit like a freight train, your walls pulsing violently around his tongue as a loud cry left your lips. you squeezed him tight, your thighs locking like a vice as you rode the wave.

right as you peaked, choso let out a choked, broken sound. his whole body went rigid beneath you. his hips gave one last, hard, desperate shove into the mattress, his fingers digging so deeply into your hips it was almost painful. he trembled violently, his breath catching in a long, shuddering gasp as he buried his face entirely in your thigh, hiding himself away as he spent.

as the sparks in your vision began to fade and your breathing slowed, you gradually loosened the grip of your legs. choso slumped forward, resting his forehead against your stomach, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow pants.

it was only then, as the quiet returned to the room, that you noticed the heavy, uneven thumping of his heart against your leg, and the distinct, damp heat pressing through the fabric of his trousers right where he had been pinning himself to the bed.

you blinked down at him, your hand coming up to rest in his dark hair. "cho...?"

he didn't move for a long moment, completely spent, his shoulders still twitching slightly. when he finally looked up, his face was completely flushed, eyes heavy and hooded with a profound, dazed satisfaction. he swallowed hard, a sheepish but utterly dark look in his eyes as he realized you had figured it out. he hadn't even touched himself; he had finished purely from the friction of the bed and the suffocating pressure of your thighs.

✧ seonghwa

He always takes care of you first. It's instinct for him. Woven into every touch, every glance, every careful movement.

Even now, above you, he holds himself just enough so his full weight doesn't press down, but not enough to create distance. His hips move in slow, measured strokes, steady and deep, his dick dragging against your walls with every thrust. The wet sounds of your bodies joining fill the room, raw and unfiltered.

His hands slide along your sides, warm, grounding, thumbs brushing under your ribs as if he needs to feel your breath, make sure you're right there with him.

His lips find yours again. Once. Twice. Lingering, this time with more tongue, a slow exploration that matches the rhythm of his hips.

A silent check-in.

Your legs tighten around his waist without thinking, pulling him closer, keeping him there when he tries to stay controlled. The change in angle makes him groan into your mouth, the sound vibrating straight through you.

"Hwa…" you whimper, the sound catching as your fingers slip into his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. It falls right back into place, soft between your fingers, and you do it again just because you can, tugging gently enough to make him hiss.

He exhales softly against your mouth, kissing you deeper this time, slower. His rhythm falters for just a second before settling again, like something in him just shifted.

His palm drags up your thigh, unhurried, familiar, thumb brushing dangerously close to where you're joined.

Then he looks at you. And something in his expression softens in a way you don't see often. Not fragile. Not uncertain. Just open.

His hand comes up to your face, thumb brushing slowly along your cheek, like he's tracing something he wants to remember.

"You're…" he starts, voice quiet, almost thoughtful. "You're so warm."

It's simple. But it lands, especially with the way he's filling you so completely.

His gaze drops briefly, then returns to yours, steadier this time.

"You always—" he exhales softly, like he's trying to put it into words and failing. "You always make everything feel… easy."

Your chest tightens at that, and you clench around him intentionally, making his breath hitch.

His thumb keeps moving, slow, grounding. His pace slows further, hips pressing closer, not pulling away fully between movements, like he doesn't want to lose the feeling of you around him even for a second. 

He grinds into you at the end of each stroke, his pelvic bone pressing against your clit, sending sparks through your veins.

He kisses the corner of your lips. Your cheek. The soft place just beneath your ear. Each one a little softer, a little slower, like he's savoring something he's afraid might slip away if he rushes it. Then lower, down your neck, across your collarbone, placing open-mouthed kisses along the swell of your breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

"I love you," he murmurs against your skin, the words vibrating through your chest as his hips roll into yours again, deeper this time.

Your fingers still in his hair. And then you feel it. A drop. Warm. Soft.

You gently tilt his head up, and your chest tightens instantly.

Tears. Quiet ones. Slipping down his cheeks while he keeps moving, slower now, deeper, like he doesn't even realize he hasn't stopped. He rests his chin on your sternum, looking up at you with those teary eyes, completely vulnerable.

"So much," he adds, breath uneven, gaze fixed on yours like he's holding himself together through it. Like you're something he still can't quite believe he has. "I love every part of you."

Your chest tightens. Because he doesn't let himself unravel like this. Not easily. Not unless something inside him has been held for too long.

You pull him back up to your face, your hands cradling his cheeks as you kiss him deeply, pouring all your love into it. The kiss is hungry now, passionate, all the unspoken emotions passing between you.

"I love you too," you whisper against his lips.

His breath stutters. Not enough to break the rhythm, but enough that you feel it ripple through him. His eyes open briefly, his face turning into your palm, lips pressing faintly against it like he doesn't know what to do with being held like this.

So you don't hesitate. Your other hand slides into his hair again, nails grazing lightly over his scalp, and his hips falter, just for a second, before pressing forward again, a little less controlled this time.

"You always take care of me…" you murmur, your nose brushing his as your lips hover just over his. "Let me take care of you too."

Something in him gives. You feel it in the way his next movement lingers, slower, fuller, like he's no longer trying to hold anything back. His forehead drops to yours, breath warm and uneven between you, his hands shifting only to hold you closer. One at your side, the other sliding under you, keeping you anchored against him.

The rhythm changes. Not stopping. Not fading. Just deeper. Each movement slower, more intentional, like he's feeling everything at once now. Not just you. Not just the moment. All of it.

His lips find yours again, softer than before, but heavier somehow, like every kiss carries more weight behind it.

"You make me feel so safe," you manage between moans as he hits that perfect spot inside you again and again.

His breath catches again, this time more noticeable. His hand slides up your arm, slow, fingertips tracing like he's memorizing you all over again. Like he needs to make sure you're real under his hands.

Another tear slips free. He doesn't hide it. Doesn't stop. Just stays there, moving with you, holding you, letting you see him like this.

Your thumb catches the tear gently, your hand never leaving his face, keeping him right there.

"You okay?" you whisper.

He nods faintly, eyes open now, soft and completely unguarded. And when he kisses you again, it's different. Still gentle. Still careful. But deeper. Heavier. Like he's pouring everything he's been holding into it, into you, into the way he moves, the way he holds you close without letting even a breath of space slip between you.

Not overwhelming. Not consuming. Just devotion.

He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one forearm while gently cradling your head in the same arm, creating a cocoon of intimacy around you. His other hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers and raising them above your head, not to assert dominance, but to feel more connected, more at home with you.

You try to guide his pace with your legs, tightening around his waist, but he maintains his rhythm, determined to savor every moment.

Your free hand roams along his body, feeling the muscles of his back, the strength in his arms, the way he trembles slightly under your touch. You drag your nails down his spine, making him shudder and thrust into you harder.

And wrapped around him, holding him just as tightly, you let him feel it. Let him unravel without falling. For once, you're the one keeping him steady.

Right there, between slow breaths and softer movements, in something that feels less like desire, and more like worship.

✧ hongjoong

The studio is dim, lit only by the soft glow of the monitor and a forgotten lamp in the corner. It smells like him. Faint cologne, warm electronics, something familiar that settles in your lungs.

He should be working. He was working.

Now he's on the couch with you, bodies turned into each other, legs tangled, his thigh pressed firmly between yours like he needs the pressure. Your hand rests against his chest, feeling the tension still coiled there, tight, contained.

There's no space between you. Not anymore. He's already inside you, his hips moving with a desperate, hungry rhythm from the start. The wet slap of his balls against your ass is obscene, echoing in the quiet studio.

His arm wraps around you, hand spread wide on your thigh, fingers digging in just enough to feel. The other hooks at the back of your neck, thumb pressing there, grounding himself through you.

Hongjoong is always controlled. But right now, he's holding it together by force, and it's cracking.

"You're thinking again," you murmur, your hand sliding up to his jaw, turning his face toward you.

"I'm not," he says automatically, punctuating the lie with a particularly sharp thrust that punches the air from your lungs.

You raise a brow.

His grip tightens on your thigh, sharper this time. “…I am."

Your thumb brushes his cheek. "Then stop."

He huffs, almost a laugh, but it doesn't land. His eyes drag over your face slowly, like he's committing something, deciding something.

And then his hand tightens.

Not gentle anymore.

He pulls you closer, hips pistoning into you harder, faster, the shift immediate, like whatever he was holding snaps loose all at once.

"I don't like this part," he mutters against your throat.

"Which one?"

"This," he says, breath rougher now, his lips already at your jaw, your neck, not waiting. "Not being able to control it."

Your chest tightens. Because he's not talking about the moment. He's talking about himself.

You barely get to answer before he moves again, faster now, deeper, his hips moving with more insistence, his hand sliding higher, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks, guiding you to meet his brutal thrusts.

"You don't have to," you manage, breath catching as his mouth drags along your collarbone, teeth grazing just enough to make you feel it.

That's what breaks him.

"I love you so fucking much it hurts."

It comes out wrecked. Unfiltered.

And for a second, you just look at him. Because Hongjoong doesn't give things like that easily. Not even to you. Not like this.

His hand clamps around your skin, squeezing, grounding himself through you as his pace stutters, then picks up again, rougher now, less measured. His control doesn't disappear, it sharpens, turns into something more urgent, more selfish.

And then you see it. The tears.

He doesn't stop. Doesn't slow down.

They just slip down his face while his mouth keeps moving against your skin, kissing, biting lightly, like he doesn't know where to put all of it so it spills everywhere at once.

Your hands come up immediately, catching his face, forcing him to look at you.

"Hey," you murmur, firmer now. "Stay with me."

His eyes flicker, breath uneven, something frustrated and raw twisting through his expression.

"I am," he insists, even as his grip tightens again, his nails digging into your skin. "I just—fuck—I don't like how much you affect me."

That almost makes you smile.

"Well," you whisper, pulling him back down, your hand firm at his jaw. "You should."

Something in his gaze snaps into focus at that. Not calmer. Sharper. Hungrier.

His hand slides from your hip to your ass, gripping hard enough to keep you exactly where he wants you, his nails dragging up your back as he moves again. Faster, more deliberate, like he's decided to use it instead of fight it. He's chasing his own pleasure now, using your body to get there.

"Don't think," you murmur against his lips. "Just feel it."

A tear slips down. He doesn't even blink it away.

"I love you," he says again, lower this time, like it's anchored now instead of spilling.

"I love you too," you answer, steady.

That's it. That's what pushes him over the edge of restraint.

His hand slides into your hair, gripping. Not harsh, but firm enough to tilt your head back, to keep you right there as he kisses you deeper, messier now, like he's done pretending he's unaffected. His other hand continues to grip your ass, guiding your movements to match his relentless pace.

His pace doesn't slow. If anything, it becomes more relentless. Still controlled, still precise, but driven now. Fueled.

Every thrust lands heavier. Closer. Like he's trying to press the feeling into you, into himself, into something that won't slip away.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his grunts and groans muffled against your skin. His mouth finds your nipple, sucking hard, making you cry out. Your hand threads through his hair, keeping him there, encouraging him.

"Hongjoong—fuck—" you moan, your back arching off the couch.

He responds with a particularly hard thrust, his teeth scraping against your neck.

"I hate this," he mutters, but there's no real resistance left in it. Just heat. Just truth.

Your hand slides down your body, between your legs, finding your clit. You start to rub circles around it, matching his rhythm, chasing your own pleasure as he chases his.

You brush your thumb under his eye, catching another tear before it falls.

"No, you don't."

He doesn't answer. Just pulls you closer, tighter, like he's decided he's not letting go of this. Of you. No matter how much it unravels him.

And this time, he doesn't try to hold it back. He just feels.

✧ yunho

He fits around you like he was built for it, all warmth and length.

You’re both on your side in bed, sheets twisted around your legs, his chest pressed flush to your back, one arm locked tight across your middle like a seatbelt he refuses to unbuckle. His breath ghosts along your neck, steady at first, grounding, familiar, as he moves behind you in slow, deliberate thrusts.

Yunho is always like this. Easy, playful, solid. Safe. That's what makes you push him.

"You gonna let me move at all," you murmur, shifting your hips just enough to test him, grinding back against him in a way that makes him groan.

His grip tightens instantly, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple.

"No," he says, too quick, too easy.

You smile to yourself. "Figured."

A quiet laugh brushes your skin, low and warm. "You're the one who climbed into my bed."

"Did I?" you hum, leaning back into him on purpose. "Don't remember asking to get stuck here."

His hand slides a little higher on your waist, firmer now. Possessive without thinking about it. He pinches your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he continues to thrust into you, his pace never faltering.

"Mm," he murmurs, brushing his nose along your neck before biting down gently. "You're not stuck." A pause. "Just staying where you belong."

You let out a soft breath that almost sounds like a laugh. "That so?"

His fingers flex against you. A warning. Playful.

"Careful," he murmurs. "You're getting brave."

You shift again just to prove a point, grinding your hips in a circle that makes him curse under his breath.

His hold locks. Tighter this time.

"Yunho—" you start, half amused.

"Don't," he mutters, a breath of a laugh following it, like he's still playing along.

But something's off. You feel the shift before you understand it. A hitch in his breathing. A pause that lingers a second too long. And then, something wet hits your skin.

You blink. Another drop follows, sliding slowly along your neck.

Your smile lingers, softer now, tilting your head just enough to glance back. "Wait—" you murmur, teasing still there, gentler. "You crying on me?"

You expect him to deflect. To laugh it off. To say something cocky. He doesn't.

"I love you so much, baby."

It slips out of him. Rough. Unfiltered. Like it slipped past him before he could shape it into something easier to hold.

You turn slightly in his arms, just enough to see him, and the sight steals the air from your lungs.

He looks confused. Not ashamed. Not hiding. Just caught in it. Like the tears sliding down his face don't belong to him. Like he doesn't understand how they got there.

"I don't—" he exhales, shaking his head faintly, eyes flickering over your face like he's trying to make sense of something. "I don't get it. How you do this to me…"

That's when you fold.

The teasing disappears, replaced by something softer, warmer. Your hand finds his without thinking, fingers threading through his, squeezing tight.

"I love you too," you whisper.

And that's it. That's the moment everything tips. His breath breaks. Not loudly, but enough.

His arm tightens around you immediately, pulling you back into him like proximity is the only way he can make sense of what he's feeling. Like if he holds you hard enough, it will stop spilling out of him in pieces.

Another tear hits your skin. And then your vision blurs. It catches you off guard, the way it sneaks up, the way it matches him.

A small, shaky laugh slips out of you as you blink through it, turning your head slightly.

"Look…" you murmur, breath uneven but smiling through it. "You made me cry too."

He lets out a soft, disbelieving sound against your shoulder, something between a laugh and a broken exhale. His hand tightens on your breast, squeezing possessively.

"Good," he whispers, voice thick. "Now you know."

And you do.

You feel it in the way his hand clings to yours. In the way his body shifts behind you. Still strong, still steady, but no longer contained. There's something open in him now. Unfiltered.

His movements change. Not losing control, never that. But gaining weight. Intention.

Each thrust sharper, more grounded, like he's trying to press the feeling into something real, something lasting. 

His other hand slides down to grip your hip, holding you in place as he picks up the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Sweat beads on his brow, dripping onto your shoulder and mixing with his tears.

"I love you," he says again, quieter now. Like he needs to hear it.

You squeeze his hand tighter.

“You don’t have to say it,” you whisper. "I feel it."

He exhales against your neck, long and heavy, his face pressing there like he's grounding himself. But his grip never loosens. If anything, it tightens. His mouth finds your shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.

The softness doesn't stay. Not fully. Because Yunho is still Yunho.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes still wet, but different now. Focused, sharpened with that familiar intensity you know so well.

"Don't look at me like that," he murmurs, a faint smirk returning through the wetness on his lashes.

"Like what?" you whisper.

"Like you just broke me," he says, thumb brushing your cheek before his grip firms again at your waist, his other hand continuing to knead your breast, massaging it roughly.

You smile softly, still a little teary. "You did that yourself."

A quiet laugh escapes him. There he is.

The familiar heat threading back through him, his hold turning more certain, more possessive, like he's reclaiming himself piece by piece.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, voice dropping. "Then let me show you something else you do to me."

And just like that, the softness becomes memory. Not gone. Just folded into everything else he is. Because Yunho doesn't stop feeling. He just learns how to hold it in different ways.

His thrusts become harder, deeper, more demanding. You grip the sheets, your knuckles white as you try to hold on. "Yunho— fuck—" you gasp out between moans.

When you try to shift away, overwhelmed by the intensity, his arm locks around you like steel. "Don't even think about it," he growls against your ear, pulling you back into him, his teeth sinking into your neck. "You're not going anywhere."

His hand leaves your breast, sliding down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs tight circles around it, matching his relentless pace, making you cry out. Your hips grind back against him instinctively, chasing his rhythm, making him go deeper. He responds with a guttural groan, his grip on your hip tightening almost painfully.

"That's it," he pants, his voice thick with emotion and desire. "Take it. Take all of me."

His mouth crashes against yours, a messy, desperate kiss. It's all teeth and tongue, a clash of spit and breath. He kisses you like he's starving, like he's trying to devour you whole.

You kiss him back just as desperately, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His fingers continue to work your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Cum for me," he growls against your lips. "I want to feel you cum around my cock."

And you do, letting yourself be completely consumed by him, by the overwhelming physical and emotional intensity of the moment.

✧ yeosang

He likes to see you.

That's why he sits up against the headboard, why his hands rest on your hips instead of guiding, why his eyes never quite leave your face. Like he's trying to take in every small shift, every breath, every flicker of feeling you let show.

You move over him slowly at first. Measured. Controlled. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you so completely, makes your own breath hitch, but you focus on him.

Your hands press lightly to his chest. You feel it immediately. His heartbeat. Fast. Too fast for how calm he looks.

"Baby, relax," you murmur softly, leaning down just a little, your voice brushing against his lips without quite kissing them. "I've got you."

His breath catches. It's subtle, but you feel it under your palms, the way his chest rises a little sharper, the way his fingers tighten at your sides before easing again.

Yeosang has never been afraid of loving you. But he still feels it deeply every time. Like it surprises him. Like it resets something inside him, over and over again.

"I know," he whispers, voice quiet, steady, but thinner than usual. "I just—"

He doesn't finish. He doesn't need to. Because you shift.

Just slightly at first. Your rhythm deepening, more deliberate, more intentional, just enough to pull him out of his head, to make him feel instead of think. You deliberately clench around him, and his reaction is immediate.

His breath breaks, head tipping back against the wood, lips parting on a soft, helpless sound.

"Wait—" he exhales quickly, hands tightening around your hips now, not to stop you, just to hold on. "Wait… slow—"

You don't stop right away. Not yet.

You lean down instead, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone, then another just below it, your voice warm against his skin.

"You feel good?" you murmur, softer now, but there's a tease tucked underneath.

He nods too fast. Eyes wide when he looks at you again, completely caught.

"Yeah— yeah, I do, I just—" his breath stutters, a quiet, almost embarrassed laugh slipping out. "I'm close… I don't— I don't wanna—"

You pause just enough to look at him properly, your breasts brushing against his chest with the movement.

"Do you want me to stop?" you ask, gentle but clear.

His head shakes immediately. Fast. Firm.

"No," he breathes, almost urgent despite how soft he sounds. His hands guide your hips without thinking, slowing you, setting the pace he needs. "No, just— slower… please…"

Something in your chest softens at that.

"Okay, okay," you whisper, a small smile in your voice as you ease your pace, slowing everything down until it's steady again. "Sorry, baby…"

Your hands settle back against his chest, grounding him, letting him breathe again. But as you move, you take his hands in yours, guiding them to your breasts. His eyes widen as his fingers instinctively close around them, thumbs brushing over your nipples.

"Touch me," you murmur.

He does, hesitantly at first, then with more confidence as you respond with soft moans. His touch becomes more deliberate, his thumbs circling your nipples until they're pebbled and sensitive.

But the damage is done. His composure slips completely.

When he looks at you again, his eyes are shining. Open, unguarded, like there's nothing left filtering what he feels.

"I love you," he says, the words slipping out like they've been sitting right there. "I've never felt this safe."

The first tear slips down, quiet and unguarded.

You don't stop. You don't react like it's something new, something fragile that might disappear if you touch it wrong. You just lean in, pressing a soft kiss beneath his eye, catching it before it falls further.

“I love you too,” you murmur, holding him a little tighter.

That does something to him. You feel it. The way his hands tighten on your breasts, the way his breath stutters again. Not overwhelmed this time, but softened, like your words sink deeper than anything else.

"You're doing so well… making me feel so good…" you add, gentler now.

That's all it takes. The filter drops. Completely.

His hands come alive, no longer careful, no longer measured. They move over you like he needs to learn you by touch, like memorizing you isn't enough unless he feels every inch, every shift, every reaction you give him. One hand continues to play with your breast while the other slides down your back, caressing your skin, memorizing every curve.

"Say it again," he breathes, voice lower now, thick with feeling.

You smile, brushing your nose against his. "I love you."

His eyes flutter shut, another tear slipping free, this time he doesn't even try to hold it back.

"I love you," he echoes, softer, more certain, like something inside him has finally unlocked.

You keep your pace slow now. Intentional. Every movement a reassurance instead of a push.

"You're so good to me," you whisper, your thumb brushing along his cheek. "So gentle… so sweet… I love seeing you like this."

He melts. A quiet, broken sound leaves him, his forehead tipping forward until it presses against yours, his breath uneven but steadying under your touch.

"I've never—" he starts, voice catching, then tries again. "I've never had this."

You brush your lips softly against his, barely there. "You have it now."

Another tear falls. But he's smiling this time. Soft. Open. Completely undone in a way that doesn't scare him anymore.

Because you're still there. Holding him steady. Still guiding him right to the edge while letting him feel everything and never once letting him fall alone.

✧ san

He pulls you into his lap like he's afraid of the space between you. Like even a breath of distance is too much.

Your knees are already planted on either side of him, the mattress dipping under your combined weight, but he doesn't let you adjust. Doesn't give you the chance. 

His arms wrap around you immediately, tight, almost crushing, pressing you chest to chest until there's no clear line where you end and he begins. The force of his thrusts makes you bounce, his dick hitting that perfect spot inside you with every harsh upward snap of his hips.

"Closer," he murmurs against your lips.

You almost laugh. There's nowhere closer to go.

Still, you give it to him anyway.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him in as much as he's pulling you. The kiss that follows is messy, deep, already a little desperate. Like neither of you expected it to burn this fast.

Your teeth clash, tongues tangling as you moan into his mouth. It's clumsy. It's too much. It's perfect.

When you pull back just enough to breathe, he's already gone.

Eyes wet. Lashes clumped. Tears spilling freely down his cheeks like he never even tried to stop them.

"I love you so much it's stupid," he breathes, voice wrecked, edged with frustration at how big the feeling is. "You don't— you don't get it, I—"

His words collapse, swallowed as he chases your mouth again, unable to tolerate even the space between sentences.

You barely get a breath in before you're kissing him again. And again. 

"San—" you try, voice shaking as your foreheads press together, noses brushing, breaths tangling. 

But it doesn't calm him. It never does. Because for San, it's not about calming down. It's about feeling everything. Fully. Fiercely. Without restraint.

You don't realize you're crying too until he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hips finally slowing their punishing pace to something deeper, more deliberate.

And he notices instantly. His thumb swipes under your eye, startled. "You're crying," he whispers, softer for half a second. Just a flicker of tenderness before it twists into something deeper. "Is it me? Am I— am I doing this to you?"

You let out a shaky breath, half-laugh, half-sob. "You always do this to me."

Something in him sharpens at that. Not breaking, sharpening. His hands slide up your back, gripping you tighter, pulling you flush against him like he needs to anchor you there. His forehead presses to yours, cheeks brushing, tears mixing as your breaths fall into the same rhythm.

"Look at me," he murmurs, voice lower now, rougher, threaded with something that flips your stomach.

You try. You really do. But the way he's looking at you, it's too much. Your eyes drop, heat rising in your cheeks.

A soft sound escapes him. Almost a laugh.

"Love," he says, gentler now, nudging your chin up. "Don't hide. Look at me."

You shake your head faintly, overwhelmed. "San..."

"Look at me," he repeats, softer this time, but firmer.

When you finally meet his eyes, he stills. Like he needed that. Like he needed to see you seeing him.

"That's it," he whispers, breath unsteady. "That's my girl..."

And with those words, he resumes his pace, even harder than before. The sudden intensity makes you cry out, your hands flying to his biceps for balance as he pounds into you from beneath.

Your face burns instantly.

A small, broken smile tugs at his lips as another tear slips free. "See? You get shy… but you feel it too," he murmurs, voice dropping lower as he drives into you relentlessly. "I know you do. I can feel it—you're right here with me, you're—"

He cuts himself off with a trembling exhale, pulling you back into a kiss. Deeper now, less playful, more proof than words.

Your hands tighten in his arm, your whole body leaning into him, losing yourself in him just as completely.

"I love you," you whisper against his mouth, barely pulling away.

It wrecks him. A broken sound slips out as his arms lock around you tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. Like he's trying to erase the concept of space entirely.

"Fuck…" he exhales, voice shaking. "You don't know what you do to me… you make me feel like this, like I can't— like I can't get enough of you, like I need you everywhere—"

You turn your face slightly, flustered, breath uneven.

He laughs softly through it, chasing your lips again. "Don't hide," he murmurs. "You're so, so beautiful like this."

You whine softly, half embarrassed, half overwhelmed, but you don't pull away. Because you can't. Because he's right there, holding you like you're everything, like you're the center of whatever storm is building inside him.

His hands slide down to grip your ass, squeezing hard, nails digging into your flesh as he continues to pound into you, making you see stars with each precise thrust.

"I love you," he says again, quieter now, but no less consuming. "I love you so much it hurts."

You press your forehead to his, breathing him in, holding him just as tightly.

"I know," you whisper. "I feel it."

And that's all he needs. His name falls from your lips in fragments as the moment unravels again, his grip turning desperate, pulling you down into him. Every movement becomes more urgent, more emotional. Less about rhythm, more about closeness. About keeping you right there.

Your faces stay pressed together, lips brushing, breaths shared, tears still falling without either of you bothering to stop them. It's messy. Overwhelming. Real.

"I love you," he keeps repeating, like a mantra that refuses to fade, punctuated by his deep thrusts that have you moaning his name over and over.

And you answer him every time. Not just with words, but with the way you hold him, the way you stay close, the way you let yourself be just as undone as he is.

Neither of you tries to slow down. Or separate. Or breathe properly. Because right here, tangled between tears, kisses, and whispered confessions, it feels like you could live inside each other.

And neither of you would ever want to leave.

✧ mingi

He's already looking at you like you've undone him.

Completely.

You're above him, hands pressed to his chest, feeling the uneven rhythm under your palms. Too fast, too full, like his heart is trying to reach you before the rest of him can catch up. Like he's already overwhelmed. Like he's already gone.

His hair is a mess against the pillow, lips parted, breath soft and shaky.

The slow roll of your hips has him arching beneath you, a broken sound escaping his lips as you sink down, taking him deeper. The stretch is perfect, the way he fills you completely making your own breath catch.

"Baby…" you whisper, softer than the movement between you.

His eyes flicker up to you instantly, wide and glassy, like he's been waiting for that, waiting for you. It doesn't take much. It never does, not with you.

His hands slide up your sides, settling at your waist, not guiding, not controlling, just holding. Clinging, almost. Like he needs to feel you there, solid, real.

"I love you," he breathes, the words breaking as they leave him. Not smooth, not steady, just spilling out. "I— I love you so much, I can't—"

His voice catches completely this time.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, shaking his head faintly like he's overwhelmed by his own feelings. "I can't stop loving you… baby, I can't…"

It hits you straight in the chest.

Not new words. He tells you all the time, but never like this. Never like it's too much for him to hold.

Your hand moves instinctively, sliding up to cradle his face. Your thumb brushes under his eye just as the first tear slips free.

There it is. Not sadness. Just too much love, with nowhere else to go.

"Aww…" you murmur softly, fondness bleeding into your voice as you lean down, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. "My baby…"

He melts instantly. Actually melts. A quiet whimper slips out of him into your mouth, his hands tightening at your waist like he doesn't know what to do with himself except hold on harder.

"I love you," he repeats against your lips, softer now, like a confession he keeps rediscovering. "You feel so— so good, you're so—"

He cuts himself off with a breath that trembles, like the words can't keep up with the feeling.

You huff a small, affectionate laugh, brushing your nose against his. "You're so gone for me, huh?"

"Mhm—" he nods quickly, almost helpless, chasing your lips again. "Yeah, I am— I really am, I—"

He can't finish a single sentence. And you love it.

You slow everything down just a little more, keeping him right there in it, your hands steady on his chest, grounding him. Every movement deliberate, every touch a quiet reassurance.

His hips buck up instinctively, trying to drive deeper, faster, but you maintain your pace, torturously slow, savoring the way he trembles beneath you.

His head tips back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, breath breaking again as another tear slips free.

"Baby…" he whispers, voice fragile now, like he's holding onto you with everything he has. "You're so— you're so perfect, I— fuck, I love you…"

You can't help the soft laugh that escapes you, warm and adoring. He sounds so overwhelmed, so sweetly wrecked.

Your hand slides up from his chest to his throat, fingers wrapping around him loosely. Not choking, not squeezing, just a gentle pressure that has his eyes flying open, pupils blown wide with need. A silent promise of what he wants but won't ask for.

"Please," he whimpers, nails digging into your skin, scratching down your back as you continue your slow, torturous rhythm. "Please, baby, faster—"

You lean down, capturing his lips in a messy, spit-filled kiss, tongues tangling as you swallow his desperate sounds.

"I love you, Min."

The words are gentle. Certain. And they destroy him. Your name falls from his lips like a prayer. And every time he looks at you, it's the same expression. Wonder. Disbelief. Like he still doesn't understand how he got here. How he ended up with someone who holds him like this, who sees him like this.

Another tear slips down his cheek. You catch it with your lips this time.

"I love you, I love you—" he repeats, voice trembling, messy, overwhelmed. "You're mine, baby, you're— you're so good to me, so—"

He loses the sentence again, replaced by another shaky breath, another quiet whimper. That's when you finally give him what he needs, increasing your pace, riding him harder, deeper, faster.

His body arches off the bed, a choked cry escaping his lips as he spills inside you, hot and thick, triggering your own release that washes over you in waves. Your fingers slide into his hair, holding him there as you press soft kisses along his jaw, his cheek, catching the tears as they fall.

"I know," you murmur, smiling against his skin. "I know, baby."

You continue to move slowly, riding him through his orgasm, milking every last drop as he trembles beneath you, completely undone.

That's what does it. He pulls you down into him, arms wrapping around you tight, almost desperate. But not to take. Never to take. Just to stay. To feel. To exist in something that finally, finally feels safe.

And in between every breath, every fragile sound, every trembling exhale…

"I love you," he keeps repeating, like it's the only thing he knows how to say anymore. And maybe, right now, it is.

✧ wooyoung

It isn't planned. That's what gets to him.

The dishes are still drying behind you, the kitchen light too bright for anything that feels like this, your hands barely braced against the island before he's there, right behind you, pulling you back into him like he couldn't wait another second. Like he didn't even think.

He's already inside you, setting a rough pace from the start, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the quiet kitchen.

One hand tangles into your hair immediately, not gentle, not rough for show. Just firm, wrapping the strands around his fist, using it to guide your head just enough to make you feel him deeper. Closer. Present. In control. 

He pulls back slightly, forcing your spine into a deeper arch that has you crying out.

"Stay like that," he murmurs, voice low, edged with that familiar teasing lilt.

But there's something under it. Something tighter.

His other hand finds your hip, fingers pressing in, holding you there like he doesn't trust you not to move. Like he doesn't trust himself if you do. With each thrust, he uses his grip on your hip to pull you back into him, meeting his movements halfway, making the impact harder, deeper.

You notice it. Of course you do. The way his breathing stutters. The way his grip lingers a second too long before easing, then tightening again.

"I love you so much I'm actually crying, fuck."

It slips out of him like it startled him. Like he hates that it did.

You turn your head just enough to look back, and there it is. That smirk he always wears. Still there. Still cocky. Still him. But his eyes betray him completely. Wet. Bright. Tears already slipping down like he didn't even try to stop them.

He looks wrecked. For a second, he just stares at you. Like he's waiting for you to laugh. To call it out. To make it smaller.

You don't.

A soft laugh escapes you anyway, warm, fond, wrapped in something that only makes him feel worse in the best way.

"Look at you," you tease gently, voice lilting. "Getting all soft on me."

He huffs out a breath that almost turns into a laugh, head dropping forward for a second, forehead pressing between your shoulder blades like he needs to hide there. He doesn't stop moving though, his hips maintaining their relentless rhythm.

"Shut up," he mutters, but it's weak. Not sharp. Not convincing. His fingers tighten in your hair again, pulling just enough to make you gasp. "Don't act like you don't like it."

"I do," you say easily, softer now. "I love it." A beat. "I love you."

That's what trips him. You feel it instantly. The way he stills inside you, just for a second. The way his breath catches like he didn't expect that to land there.

"Yeah?" he says, quieter, almost like he's testing it.

You reach back, finding his wrist, squeezing.

"Yeah."

Silence stretches thin and fragile. Then he exhales, long and shaky, his forehead still pressed into your back like he's holding himself together there. For a moment he lets himself feel it. And then, he snaps back. Hard.

"Fuck," he breathes, lifting his head again, voice dropping, that edge sliding right back into place like armor. He leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your spine, teeth grazing your skin between each thrust. "You're really trying to ruin me today, huh?"

Your smile curves, softer now. Knowing.

"You were already gone."

A quiet, breathless laugh leaves him. This one sticks, even as another tear slips free. He bites down on your shoulder blade, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark.

"Say that again." he mutters, grip tightening at your waist, pulling you back into him like he needs to prove something. 

You glance back at him, steady. "You're gone for me."

Something in his expression shifts. Not softer. Sharper.

"Yeah," he says, voice lower now, rougher, threaded with something that makes your stomach flip. "Yeah, I am."

His hand slides from your hair to your waist, nails digging into your skin as he drags them back up, leaving tingling trails in their wake, then back into your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch even more.

"Look at you," he pants softly, almost mocking, almost reverent. "Got me crying in the middle of this… over nothing."

"It's not nothing," you murmur.

He lets out a short, disbelieving breath. "We're in the kitchen."

You smile. "And?"

Another tear slips down his cheek. He laughs through it. Wrecked, a little breathless, completely undone even as he tries to act like he isn't.

"Fuck," he mutters again, shaking his head faintly. "You do this to me and then act innocent…"

"I am innocent," you shoot back lightly.

He leans in closer, voice dropping right by your ear, grip tightening again. Possessive now, intentional. His free hand slides around to your front, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that make you clench around him.

"No," he murmurs. "You know exactly what you're doing."

You clench around him again, harder this time.

"That's what I thought," he adds, softer, almost pleased, even as his thumb brushes your skin in a way that betrays how much he's feeling.

"I love you," he says again, this time quieter. Realer. No performance.

You don't hesitate.

"I love you too."

That's what steadies him. His hold shifts, firmer, more grounded, less frantic. Like he's decided to stop fighting it and just use it.

His forehead dips forward again briefly, lips brushing your back. Not hiding this time, just there, before he straightens, breath evening out just enough.

"Yeah," he exhales, quieter, but stronger now. "Yeah, you do."

The smirk returns. Not fake this time. Just layered over everything else. He holds you tighter. Playful, messy, emotional Wooyoung still intact, but fully, undeniably yours.

✧ jongho

You notice it before he does. The shift.

Jongho is always steady. Solid in a way that makes everything around him feel quieter, safer. 

Even now, with his weight over you and your legs hooked over his shoulders, his presence is the same. Firm, grounded, controlled. Unshakable. He drives into you with a powerful, relentless rhythm, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud and echoing in the room, a raw testament to your shared desperation.

But his eyes…They give him away.

You feel it in the way his hand finds yours, fingers threading through instinctively. The grip is strong, familiar, but there's something under it. A faint tremor. Not weakness. Just pressure. Too much of it.

Your fingers tighten around his. You don't ask. You don't interrupt. You just stay, meeting his powerful thrusts with your own rising need.

His gaze drops briefly to your joined hands, then lifts again, landing on your face like he's checking. Like he's waiting to see if you'll make this into something bigger than it is.

You don't. You just look at him. The same way you always do.

That's what breaks it. A tear slips free.

Just one at first, quiet as a secret, trailing down the side of his face before he can stop it. His breath stutters, barely noticeable to anyone else.

But not to you. Never to you.

For a split second, something flickers across his expression. Uncertainty. Maybe even a hint of embarrassment. Like he doesn't recognize himself like this. Like he doesn't know what to do with it.

So you decide for him. You don't react. You don't soften into pity. You don't look away. You hold his gaze like this is allowed. Like this is normal. Because it is.

Your thumb brushes lightly against his hand, a quiet reassurance. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to hide.

His breath leaves him slowly, like something in his chest finally loosens.

"I love you," he says.

It's low. Deep. Certain. And somehow more honest than anything you've ever heard from him. He punctuates the declaration with a particularly deep thrust that makes you cry out.

Another tear follows, then another, still quiet, still contained. He doesn't look away this time. Doesn't try to hide it. He just lets it happen, like if he stays locked on you, he won't lose whatever control he has left.

You let him. You don't rush to answer. This isn't about filling the space. This is about holding it.

Your hand squeezes his again, a little firmer now, your legs shifting just enough to hold him closer. Not pulling, not demanding, just there. Matching him. Meeting him exactly where he is.

His movements don't lose their strength. If anything, they become more deliberate. More focused. Like everything he's kept locked away is being poured into this, into the way he holds you, the way he stays close, the way he doesn't pull back.

"I love you," he repeats, softer this time, voice brushing over the words like he's still getting used to saying them out loud.

You could answer right away. You want to. The words sit warm and ready on your tongue. But this moment is his.

So instead, you lift your hand, guiding it gently to his cheek, thumb brushing just beneath his eye, catching the next tear before it falls too far.

No fuss. No pause. Just quiet care.

His eyes close for half a second at the touch, leaning into it without thinking. When they open again, there's no hesitation left. Just him.

Then, with a sudden shift of power, he changes your position. He presses your thighs to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press. 

The new angle is devastating, and you gasp as he resumes his relentless pace, now grinding against you with each thrust, hitting even deeper than before. Your free hand claws at his back, nails digging into his skin, leaving red trails in their wake.

"Look at me," he demands, his voice rough and strained.

You force your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. His face is flushed, sweat beading on his forehead, his eyes dark with a mixture of lust and something deeper, something tender that's at odds with the brutal way he's fucking you.

"I'm gonna cum," he pants, his rhythm becoming erratic. "Cum with me, baby. Please."

His words are your undoing. The coil in your stomach snaps, and you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense pleasure. Your body convulses beneath him, your inner walls clamping down around his dick.

That's all it takes. With a loud, broken moan, he buries himself impossibly deep inside you and stills. You feel the hot pulse of his release as he cums, filling you completely.

He collapses against you, his full weight pressing you into the mattress, both of you panting heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. For a long moment, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you trying to come down from your high. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

Finally, he shifts, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you. His eyes are soft now, the desperate intensity replaced by a warm, gentle glow.

"I should say it more," he mutters, voice low, almost to himself. "I think it all the time. I just—" He exhales, jaw tightening faintly. "—keep it in."

"Then don't," you say, simple and even, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

His eyes flicker at that, searching your face again, trying to find if you mean right now or something more.

You don't look away.

"I'm right here," you add, quieter but just as steady. "You can say it whenever you want."

That's it. No extra weight. No careful phrasing. Just truth, given to him the same way he gave his.

You see it land in the way something in his expression loosens, like a grip he didn't realize he was holding finally eases. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, not to hide, not to escape, just to stay close, to hold onto something real while everything inside him settles into place.

"I love you," he says again, and this time it's stronger, not louder, just more certain, like he's not holding it back anymore.

"I know," you murmur. Then, just as steady, "I love you too."

He exhales, long and grounded, his forehead dipping briefly toward yours before he presses a lingering kiss there, quiet, soft, like he's sealing the moment instead of breaking it.

And through it all, your hand never leaves his. Holding. Steady. Letting him be strong and soft and seen all at once.

masterlist

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© All rights reserved. Do not edit, or translate without permission. Credit to @mingi-buffering-24-7.

—————————————

“Yo, I got the goods.” Wooyoung said, holding up the convenience store grocery bag high in the air.

“They had the chips I wanted?” You asked, reaching out your hand and flexing your fingers impatiently for the bag.

“Yep, and your drink. You owe me $6 by the way.” He said, dumping the remainder of the contents in the bag onto your coffee table.

“I’ll buy you a burger or something next week.”

“Deal.” He said, sitting next to you on the couch and kicking his feet up. You skimmed over the snack stash, trying to find anything in his snack choices you wanted to steal a bite of and your eyes landed on a candy bar you had never seen before. The packaging was different, and the brand name was one you couldn’t recognize.

“What is that?” You asked him, pointing to it.

“It’s chocolate. The cashier guy told me it’s something called an aphrodisiac candy bar? The dude was trying to upsell me really hard. I think he was trying to get rid of his inventory of it. They only have it behind the register so, I bought it.” He shrugged and picked it up, reading the ingredients list printed on the back.

“Aphrodisiac? You mean, it’s supposed to make you horny? Why the fuck would you buy that and bring it over here?” You smacked him on the arm and made him wince.

“Ouch! Damn, chill. That shit is all fake. There’s just good-ole sugar and fat in this. I just felt bad for the dude and bought it. You know I go there every single week before our movie nights. I got a soft spot for the old guy!” Wooyoung did his best to plea his case which you truthfully believed. And, to be fair, he was being honest. “It’s just a regular chocolate bar with some fake gimmick to make you pay like $10 for it.”

“You paid $10 for this thing?!”

“I told you I felt bad for the dude!” He groaned, unwrapping the paper around the candy and breaking the bar in half, handing you one of the two pieces. “Here, just help me eat this thing and turn on the movie.”

“Are you sure?” You said, still a bit wary and he groaned in irritation.

“Eat it or don’t. I’m starting the movie.” Wooyoung told you, taking a large bite out of his side and pressing ‘play.’ You shrugged and did the same, enjoying each bite and focusing on the film.

——————————————

The movie you chose was one you both had watched a million times over. You both made commentary about the movie like you usually did and just enjoyed each other’s company.

Midway through the film the two main characters started having sex in a scene you’d both watched multiple times before. However, something felt different this time. You felt yourself start to tingle a get a tiny bit wet as the scene got more and more heated, the feeling intensifying as the scene continued. It did not take long until you found yourself shifting uncomfortably in your seat, completely soaked and throbbing.

‘Oh my god, the chocolate.’

“I uh, gotta go to the bathroom.” You said, slightly panicked and too afraid to look over at Wooyoung. You stood up and b-lined to the restroom, locking the door behind you.

You pulled down your sweatpants and panties and examined yourself. You gasped softly out loud, taken aback by how puffy and engorged your labia and clit looked. Your pussy soaking wet, leaving a trail of arousal on your panties. Thanks to your thick sweats, that was easy to hide. What wasn’t, was your hard and engorged nipples that were now peeking straight through your pajama camisole.

“Dammit.” You whispered to yourself, using your fingers to try and push the hard nubs down into themselves over the shirt. However, instead, the stimulation only made the situation worse. You felt a bolt of electricity shoot straight to your clit, making it pulse. Your knees buckled and you had to find it deep inside to pull your hands away from your chest and not continue. If you were in here too long, Wooyoung may know something was up.

You quickly pulled your pants back up and straightened yourself, making sure you looked as normal as possible. Quickly splashing some cold water on your face and neck in a weak attempt to bring your temperature down. You took a deep breath before going back out, not realizing Wooyoung was having a crisis of his own.

“God, what the fuck?” He hissed to himself when you had closed the bathroom door behind you. He uncrossed his legs he was squeezing together uncomfortably hard in a desperate attempt to hide his growing, uncontrollable, erection. His sizable length pressed up through his pants as if it was fighting to get out. He adjusted himself a bit, tucking himself into the waistband of his boxers which helped a little bit but didn’t help the throbbing desire that wouldn’t subside.

Wooyoung knew he was in trouble. He really didn’t think that fucking chocolate bar was legit. How could a chocolate bar make you horny? And to this extent? All he had to do was make it through the movie and get home to jerk off and everything would be fine. He repositioned himself on the couch to try and look casual when he heard you come out of the bathroom. He refused to look away from the tv, not wanting to risk giving himself away by looking guilty.

You sat back down next to him and swore you could hear how wet you were when settled into the cushion. Both of you were face forward, eyes to the tv, trying to ignore the throbbing between each of your thighs. Every once in a while you would shift around, making Wooyoung’s eyes shift over in your direction. He noticed you were bouncing your leg anxiously and biting the inside of your cheek.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned.

“Huh? Oh! Um, yeah. I’m great.” You answered a bit too chipper, making his eyebrow raise in curiosity. He wanted to pry but wasn’t in a position to entertain any banter at the moment so he let it go. You found his reaction, or lack-there-of, strange. Normally any time Wooyoung spoke to you it was to make fun of you or give you a hard time. You peered over at him and saw his knuckles white with how hard he was clenching his fists, jaw tight. Completely tense.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you asking me that?” He snapped, sounding annoyed.

“Damn, sorry I asked.” You rolled your eyes. “Asshole.”

“You’re talking through the whole movie and I’m the asshole?”

“We’ve seen this movie 100 times what does it fucking matter?” You whipped your head towards him in anger. “And you’re one to talk. You normally never shut the hell up.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I want to shut the hell up tonight. Is that okay with you?”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. Now horny and annoyed. “By the way, you spilled your drink or something on you. You have a stain.”

“What?” Wooyoung looked down and saw a quarter-size spot of wetness on his crotch which made him stand up in a panic, not thinking about what his seated position was helping him conceal. When he stood up it was very clear to you that the wet spot was not one made from a drink and that he was very, VERY, hard. “Shit- um, sorry-“

“Oh.” Was all you could manage to say, realizing he was in the same predicament as you were.

Wooyoung sat back down with his cheeks burning red. He pushed his hair back with one hand and nervously cleared his throat before finally speaking.

“I uh, guess the chocolate kinda works.”

“Yeah, it kinda does.” You admitted shyly. He looked over at you and laughed a little.

“Wait, it worked for you too?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda going insane right now.” You huffed. You both sat in silence for a second not knowing what to say and then, you smacked his arm.

“Ouch! What the fuck?” He yelled, grabbing his arm.

“You’re such an idiot for buying this shit!” You groaned.

“You didn’t have to eat it!”

“Yeah, but I did because YOU told me it wouldn’t work and now here we are.”

“Well..” he sighed. “Do you have anyone you can text to come over? Take care of business?”

“No.” You scoffed. “I don’t have a roster like you.”

“Please.” He rolled his eyes. “Half my roster has me blocked at this point. So it looks like we’re both equally fucked. And not in the way we need.”

“So now what?”

“I guess.. we have to masturbate?” He shrugged.

“I guess so.”

Wooyoung suddenly started pulling his pants off of himself which made you panic, frantically waving your hands in front of him.

“What are you doing?!”

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing? Did we not just say we were going to masturbate?” He sounded as equally shocked.

“I didn’t think you meant TOGETHER?”

“I mean, at this point why not? We both know we’re horny as fuck. Might as well just get this over with real quick. I don’t want to drive all the way home to jerk off. It’s too early.” He argued. “Plus, we’ve been friends for how long? This shouldn’t be a big deal at all. We’ve made out while drunk this is literally, like, the next step.”

You thought for a while about his proposition and it didn’t take too long to come to a consensus that he was correct. Of course, the throbbing in your panties definitely influenced your quick decision. You were too horny and too desperate to get off at this point to care about potential awkwardness. You just really wanted to get off.

“Okay. But we never talk about this again. Got it?” You said, hissing through your teeth to sound serious.

“Yeah, yeah. Got it. Can we jerk off now?” He asked. You nodded and Wooyoung proceeded in taking off his pants and boxers with one swift movement, his large cock springing out of his pants instantly. It was almost purple from how hard it was, head leaking precum down the shaft. Wooyoung winced from the cool air in your apartment hitting his warm sensitive skin. He also lifted his shirt off over his head, tossing it onto the floor.

You had seen your best friend shirtless but, never naked below the belt. Your eyes almost bulging from your head when you took in the sheer size of him.

“Well, are you going to get naked too or are you going to just sit there and stare at my cock like a weirdo?”

“Oh, um-“ you stuttered, shaking your head for a moment then stripped down naked yourself. Your swollen breasts and hard nipples were the first thing Wooyoung noticed, followed by your puffy and engorged pussy.

“Holy shit, I think I just saw your pussy throb.” He gasped, almost drooling. He was completely enticed by how it looked. Soaking wet and delicate.

“Shut up.” You mumbled. “Can we get this over with?”

Wooyoung nodded and took a deep breath, taking his hand and shamelessly wrapping it around his cock. He sucked in a harsh breath when he made contact with his sensitive appendage, then slowly started to move his fist up and down. You watched him as he did this, wondering how he made such an awkward situation so hot.

“Don’t make me do this alone.” Wooyoung said, his voice husky and deep. You swallowed deeply and then hesitantly brought your hands to your chest and started to massage your breasts. You took your soft mounds in your hands and squeezed them gently, feeling how much fuller they felt than normal, then used your fingertips to rub circles around your almost painfully hard nipples. They were so sensitive to the touch that an involuntary whimper slipped through your lips.

“Sorry!” You gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth in shock. You typically thought playing with your nipples felt good but never that good. Not good enough to make you moan.

“God, don’t apologize.” Wooyoung groaned, his hand slightly moving faster. “It’s.. it’s hot.”

You felt your cheeks get warm at your best friend’s confession. Before you lost your nerve, you continued, bringing your fingers back to your nipples and pulling at them lightly. The sensation making you rotate your hips as you yearned for more relief down below. While keeping one hand focusing on your nipples, you brought the other down between your thighs. Your fingers were coated instantly with a shocking amount of wetness that made it effortlessly easy to rub circles around your swollen clit.

“Fuck..” you whimpered, hips bucking up into your hands, pressing into it hard. You peered over at Wooyoung and found him watching you play with your pussy, eyes following every circle your fingers rubbed into yourself. His hand now jerking himself off furiously, precum dripping down his swollen cock head and his breath coming out in jagged, broken, huffs. You already felt close to release due to the pure erotic nature of the situation. Your hand naturally going faster as you chased your high, your thighs opening up as wide as they could go.

“Holy shit.” Wooyoung groaned, eyes rolling back into his head when he saw you spread out even more. You brought your other hand down from your breast and placed it down between your thighs, pointing two fingers down towards your entrance and teasing it with your fingerings. Your fingers rubbing your clit didn’t stop and only got faster as you raced to your orgasm.

“Oh my god-“ you gasped, your breath catching in your throat. You pushed your fingers into your cunt, only managing to get just the tips into yourself before you started to cum. You pushed your fingers into yourself regardless as your pussy convulsed around them. Your back arched off the couch and head was thrown back in ecstasy while Wooyoung watched in awe. The sight before him making his climax flow over his knuckles as his body jerked in the same release.

You looked over at just the right time to see him release his orgasm. His eyes were glossy and low as he watched you, lip between his teeth that did nothing to keep his grunts inside, and his chest was glossy with sweat that glistened in the dim light. He was fucking beautiful. The veins in his arms bulging as he worked his still-erect cock.

“Fuck, I’m still fucking horny.” Wooyoung groaned. He finally let go of his dick, using his discarded shirt to wipe away his mess. His cock was still rock hard and, to be honest with yourself, you were still throbbing. This chocolate was ruthless.

“Me too.”

Wooyoung bit the inside of his cheek and watched you nervously for a moment, a bit nervous. He looked lost in thought but also like he had something on his mind he was hesitating to share.

“What?” You asked, nervous now.

“What if, just this one time, we.. you know..”

Your heart started to race but you weren’t sure if it was in excitement or anxiety.

“Wooyoung, are you being serious?”

“It’s just this one time. It’s only because of this fucking candy bar. And we never have to talk about it ever again.” He said, his tone almost pleading. “And I just really, REALLY, want to eat your pussy right now.”

“Wooyoung!” You giggled, covering your mouth in shock at your best friend’s lust. You should slap him. Normally you would. But, you had to be honest with yourself. You definitely wanted to fuck him in this moment, too.

“Please. Let’s fuck. PLEAAASE.”

“Just this once.” You told him, grabbing his face in your hands to focus him. “And we never tell anybody about this.”

“Deal.”

Wooyoung kissed you deeply before laying you down on your couch, trailing his lips down to your neck. He would switch from kisses to light nips of his teeth on the soft spots of your throat that raised goosebumps on your skin and went lower and lower, stopping briefly to suck on your still-swollen nipples. His tongue twirled around them like a tease, eliciting soft gasps from your lips. He chucked in satisfaction from your reaction then continued his decent down to where both of you wanted him to be the most.

Wooyoung hoisted your knees to rest on his shoulders and hooked his arms around your thighs, holding you secure to him. Wanting to make sure you couldn’t pull away. He looked up at you, and watched your reaction as he finally lowered his mouth and licked a long lap of his tongue through your engorged folds. When he saw your eyes flutter and roll back into your head, he smirked, before completely diving in and devouring you.

Wooyoung was an expert at eating pussy. You had known he was experienced in bed, having heard of his extensive body count, but never had experienced his skills first hand. You suddenly realized why so many girls had gone crazy after he had moved onto the next.

“Fuck Wooyoung.. what the fuck?” You moaned, looking down at him in complete shock. You found him still watching you. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, sucking on it lightly in-between taking long licks. You reached down and wrapped your hand in his hair, pushing him even deeper into you which made him moan as he lapped at your clit. You grinded your hips against his face, riding it, feeling his tongue, nose, and chin pushed up against you. You both locked eyes as you continued to grind on his face, Wooyoung moaning into you in pleasure as he allowed you to use him how you needed. You felt that familiar pressure build between your thighs once again and you knew it was only a matter of time before you came again.

“Fuck, Woo. I’m- I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered, your hips moving a bit quicker. Wooyoung’s fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he let you use his mouth, your soaked cunt sliding against his tongue in desperation.

He knew it was time to go in for the kill.

He wrapped his lips around your clit one last time and started to suck on it, his tongue lapping at it simultaneously. Both of the stimulations sending you over the edge, screaming as you came. Your knees locking around Wooyoung’s head in a vice grip while you writhed on the couch.

“Oh my god, stop!” You pushed his head away from you, gasping for air. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Maybe.” He was gasping as well, mouth and chin glistening in your orgasm. “You just tasted so fucking good.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” You felt yourself get shy, but you couldn’t help but smile.

“You fucking loved that. Don’t pretend like you didn’t.” He said, reaching down to help you sit upright.

“Yeah, whatever. You’re pretty good at that.”

“Thanks. Now, do me a favor and ride me.” Wooyoung requested and, after the service he just provided, you were more than willing to oblige. You straddled him, reaching behind you to grab his thick length to line him up to your entrance. You had to ease him in slowly, his girth stretching you as you lowered yourself down onto him. Once he was fully inside of you, you rested your face into the crook of his neck for a while, allowing yourself to adjust to his size.

“Are you alright?” He asked you, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist.

“Yes.” You were a bit breathless. “You’re just.. fuck, Wooyoung. You’re big.” Wooyoung chuckled, his laugh jolting his body inside of you in a way that made your toes curl slightly.

“I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry.” He whispered in your ear, making goosebumps raise on your arms. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

‘Baby.’ He hadn’t dared called you that yet. You two were already pushing boundaries as it was having sex as friends but it was clear he was ready to throw all that out the window to ensure you both enjoyed this experience with no restraints. You could do mental somersaults trying to unpack the conflicting feelings you had about all of this but right now, all you wanted to do was focus on how GOOD he felt. And how much you wanted him. You would do all the hard stuff later.

Rolling your hips up and back down onto him, you started to slide yourself up and down his cock. Wooyoung helped you by gripping your ass and pulling you towards him each time you rocked forward and pushing you back down onto him when you rolled back down, making you feel his cock deep inside of you. The way he filled you up made your entire body feel warm, your cheeks burning in pleasure that made your lips tingle.

“Does my cock feel good inside of you?” Wooyoung asked you seductively, his lips pressing a kiss onto your neck while you rode him. You felt shy and didn’t answer, but down below you tightened around him which he noticed.

“I asked you a question, baby.”

“Wooyoung, please-“

“Don’t overthink this.” He told you, kissing down your neck to your shoulder. “Remember, this is to make each other feel good and get each other off. So, don’t feel weird about saying naughty things to me, alright? I like it.”

You nodded and he gripped your ass a bit harder, using one of his hands to smack it sharply on one of your cheeks. You moaned in pleasure, loving the roughness, and started riding him a bit faster.

“Let me ask you again. Does my cock feel good inside of you?”

“Yes, baby.” You said, your voice a whimpering mess. “So fucking good.”

“That’s right. Of course you fucking like it.” He smacked his hand on your ass once again. “Such a good girl.”

You bounced on his cock in desperation, over and over. Each time you landed back down on his thick length a pathetic whimper slipped through your pouted lips that became music to Wooyoung’s ears. He continued to coo filthy words to you, loving how each syllable made you tighten around him even more than you already were.

“Do you like it when I talk dirty to you?” He grunted in your ear, hips bucking up inside of you from below. “Like when I tell you you’re being a good girl for me?”

“Fuck!” You cried out, desperately rolling your hips in a messy and out-of-rhythm pattern as you got closer and closer to an orgasm. “Yes! Fuck, I love it!”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum all over my cock for me?” He whined into your ear, grabbing your ass and thrusting his hips up into you hard over and over.

“Fuck!” You screamed, throwing your head back as you took him under you. After a few more strokes up inside, you started to cream around his thick cock, your body convulsing almost violently as you came. He wrapped his arms around you in a vice grip and held you against his chest as you orgasmed, feeling your pussy throb around his still-hard cock.

“Good job, baby girl. That’s it. Fuuuuck.” He praised you, loving how your pussy felt when it came around him. When you finally caught your breath, you sat up in his lap.

“I hope you have more in you.” Wooyoung told you, kissing you on your shoulder delicately.

“Fuck yeah I do.” You said, grabbing his hair roughly and pulling him to your mouth in a feverish kiss. He matched your passion quickly, biting your lip and pulling on it between his teeth. You moaned loudly into his mouth before he pushed his tongue into yours. You held each other so close as you made out it was if you would morph into one person. Bodies meshing together into one. Finally, he needed more.

“Get on your knees for me, ass in the air.” He whispered to you seductively, his making chills run down your spine.

You got on your knees and kneeled forward, your face pressed into the couch in the doggy position. Wooyoung positioned himself behind you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, rubbing it up and down your folds to collect your arousal on his throbbing head. He pushed into your dripping cunt with ease, your pussy begging to be filled by his cock once again, eagerly forming to his size this time. He slid in all the way, his pelvis meeting your ass as he nestled down inside of you.

“Fuck, Wooyoung… your cock…” you trailed off.

“I know.” He said, and you didn’t have to look back at him to know he had a cocky grin plastered on his face.

He gripped your hips, his fingers pressed into the soft skin of your thighs firmly, and held you in place. Suddenly, he pulled back and snapped himself forward, slamming his cock into your pussy, and repeating the motion over and over. Your mouth fell open and you moaned deeply into the couch, taken aback by the pleasure of the rough thrusts. His motions started out slow but quickly picked up in pace, the sounds of his thrusts becoming quick slapping motions that filled the room, pairing with your moans nicely.

To make it even more intense, Wooyoung reached down and grabbed your arms, pinning them behind your back and using them to help him thrust into you. The new position made you completely vulnerable to him and left you in his control, submitted.

“You’re taking me so well.” He grunted as he continued to fuck roughly into your throbbing cunt. “Your pussy feels so fucking good.”

“Please fuck me harder!” You begged him, wanting even more. “I want more. Give me more daddy.” The filthy pet-name slipping out without a second thought.

“Daddy, huh?” Wooyoung smirked in surprise, not realizing how dirty his best friend could get. “You want daddy to give it to you harder?”

He leaned down over you and pinned your stomach down against the cushions, using his hand to grip the back of your neck and push you down into the plush couch. You couldn’t move, Wooyoung’s body weight holding you down as he thrusted into you ruthlessly. Your pussy contracting around his thick cock as it effortlessly slid in and out, your arousal making a mess on the cotton of the cushions.

“Is this what you wanted? Hmm?” He said in-between thrusts. “To be fucked into the couch?”

“Fuck-yes! Yes, daddy!” You cried in pure satisfaction.

“You’re going to cum on daddy’s cock again?”

“Yes! Please, please, please-“

Wooyoung suddenly stopped and pulled out of you, his weight releasing your body. You turned confused, afraid you had done something to offend him. Wooyoung however was not offended. Instead, determined to change things up. He grabbed your legs and flipped you onto your back, gripping onto your knees and pressing them back onto your chest.

“I want to look at you while you cum.” He told you, slipping his cock back inside. He placed his forehead against yours and looked at you deep in your eyes while he dragged deep stroked in and out of you. His long cock pulled pornographic whimpers from your throat that shocked even yourself, not knowing you could make such erotic noises. You couldn’t help it. You didn’t know at this point if it was the chocolate or just simply Wooyoung but you had never been fucked like this before. Never felt this amazing before.

“Woo, it feels so good..” you said, sounding almost as if you could cry. Your thighs you had wrapped around his waist started to tremble and Wooyoung was closing in on his climax as well.

“You feel fucking amazing.” He told you, slamming into you a bit harder but keeping his strokes precise. “I want you to cum with me. I’m almost there, baby.”

He placed his thumb on your swollen clit and started to rub quick circles that made your eyes flutter and lets clamp around him. It was only a matter of time now. He could feel you pulse around his cock as your walls tightened around him.

“Fuck baby, I can feel how close you are. Are you gonna cum?” He whimpered to you, his cocky demeanor now softening as he got closer to his own release. “Come on baby, cum with me. Give it to me. I need to feel it. Please.”

His whining and his thumb on your clit sent you into your final climax, your orgasm gushing out of you and onto his cock. Wooyoung came as you convulsed around his thick length, squirting around him in spectacular fashion.

“Holy shit- fuck!” He cursed loudly, slamming into you a few times as he emptied into you. Your body shuttering as your orgasm subsided, completely spent. Wooyoung pulled out of you gently and went to find a towel to clean both of you up. You laid there for a moment out of breath, coming to terms with what you two had just done together.

“I didn’t know you could squirt.” Wooyoung said in shock.

“Sometimes.” You shrugged. “It doesn’t happen that much.”

“Of course I could get you to do it.” He smirked, proud of himself. You rolled your eyes and snatched the towel from out of his hand to wipe yourself of sweat and other liquids.

“Did you at least enjoy it?” Wooyoung asked you, suddenly sounding serious.

“What?”

“I mean, do you regret it?” He shrugged. “Are you okay with what happened?”

“Oh.” You felt shocked and thought about it for a moment. “Actually.. I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Really?!” He said, a huge smile spreading across his face.

“Do NOT let that go to your head. But, yes.” You sighed. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Fuck yeah. I didn’t know you could fuck like that.”

You smacked him on the arm which made him laugh.

Both of you cleaned up and got dressed. You decided to take a trip across the street to the convenience store where Wooyoung had gone before he had come over for more snacks.

The moment you both got up to the counter, the old man at the register smiled at you with a knowing look. You felt your cheeks get hot, remembering he was the one who sold Wooyoung the chocolate bar.

“Anything else for you two?”

Wooyoung looked over at you and you looked at him. There was a long pause and, without even speaking, a silent decision was made.

“Can we get two more of those special chocolate bars, please?”

——————————————

It started with lingering caresses to your shoulder, then escalated to poking your sides. Further on to pinching your cheeks, then tugging your hair. All to get a rise out of you. He found it endearing how easy it was to annoy you.

Then one day, he tried something very new.

"Please!"

"No."

"Please!"

"No!"

"Pretty please!"

"Wooyoung!" you shouted, turning your head and shooting him a look that could kill. He only pouted and just as his lips formed to shoot back another plea, you threw your hands in defeat. "Fine!"

That all too familiar smug smirk of his graced his lips, and immeditely irritation began to brew. You grumbled as you took your place sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Wooyoung sat on it behind you, his legs placed on either side of your body. His hands carded their way through your hair, catching on tangles and knots as you mumbled incoherent complaints.

"Quit being a baby, you know I love playing in your hair." Wooyoung smiled, admiring the curls and frizz.

"Yeah, I get that, but I'm trying to get work done, but I can't really focus when you're scalping me."

Wooyoung scoffs, right as he tugs a rather tender area, "C'mon, you're being dramatic."

"I have the right to." You crossed your arms and stared at the TV in front of you as it played some sitcom reruns. As much as you gave him a hard time, his playing with your hair did somewhat relax you, but you'd take that to your grave.

Wooyoung's slender fingers parted the coils of your hair, fingers ruffling the roots to give it more volume. He admired the shine of it, how it fit to the curve of your neck and the way you shivered when the strands brushed your nape.

Your eyes were glued to the TV, silence washing over both of you, and he began to softly braid and part your hair, playing with it gently.

His eyes fell to where the delicate locks draped over your neck, and something deep in the nooks and crannies of his brain switched, and suddenly the junction where your neck met your shoulder looked... tantalizing.

Soft skin pulled over fragile bone, plush flesh that was warm to the touch each time his fingers brushed over it. His hands buried in your hair, he often found his eyes wandering to your neck, sliding a hand from your locks to gently trace a line from below your ear down the side of your neck, along your shoulder.

You ignored his lingering touches because it was Wooyoung; he was just being touchy as usual.

His fingers stopped right above the vein in your neck, while his other hand massaged slow, deep circles against your scalp, pulling a contented sigh from your lips.

"You're annoying," you mumbled, the relaxation very evident in your tone.

"I know," he responded, unable to tear his eyes away from your soft skin.

Enamoured.

His next move even surprised him.

You felt his warm breath on your skin, and he felt alot closer. Then his soft, plush lips were against your neck, and you opened your mouth to ask what the hell he was doing.

He brushed his lips across your skin in featherlight motion, before he opened his mouth, bared his teeth, and bit.

His teeth sank into the flesh of your throat, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to really feel it. His warm mouth, the quick, sharp sting, his tongue sliding over the spot to soothe the bite.

Well, the noise that escaped you was somewhat unbecoming.

A high-pitched, soft whine. Definitely sensual in nature. Wooyoung pulled his lips from your skin and stared down at you in wonder. "Whoa."

You did not turn around. He felt the skin on your neck flare hotter, and you kept your eyes trained in front of you, as if you didn't look at him, you might disappear.

You did not, of course.

And Wooyoung grinned like he had just struck gold.

"Oh my god, you dirty pervert."

You whipped around and stared at him, lips formed in a pout, eyes glassy, and breathing heavy. "You're the one who bit me, you freak!"

"And you liked it, didn't you?" His eyes locked with yours, challenging, daring you to deny it.

"Woo..." you mumbled, bewildered and embarrassed. The air was thick, and the tension palpable; an unspoken heat lingered between you two. Wooyoung smiled, and he lowered his head so his face was closer to yours, the look in his eyes far from modest.

“How long.” He pressed, grinning wildly at this new discovery about his best friend.

“I’m not doing this, you just caught me off guard cause well y’know, you fucking bit me?”

“How long?” He ignored you. “Tell me-“ he poked the side of your cheek repeatedly. “Tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me-“

“Jung Wooyoung I will knock your lights out!”

“What are you into that too?” He laughed, tugging your hair playfully. You could never win. You sighed and rubbed your temples, the bite mark on your throat throbbing, matching a similar feeling that bothered you between your legs.

“If I bite you again will you cum-“

“And that’s quite enough!” You stood up, a flustered mess, getting ready to kick him out and retreat to your room.

But his warm hand gently slipped around your wrist, stopping you. He looked up at you from where he sat on the couch, as he lifted your wrist to his lips.

He presses your pulse point to his mouth softly, slowly opening his mouth silently, giving you the time to decide if you wanted this to truly end here. You made no move.

Carefully, Wooyoung closed his lips over the vein in your wrist, nipping at it oh so gently, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your heart was racing, pounding in your ears when you felt his soft tongue trace over the sensitive thin skin of your wrist.

"I wonder what other pretty little sounds I can pull out of you." Wooyoung whispered, releasing your wrist from his gentle bite, pressing a featherlight kiss against it.

“Will you sing for me?”

And thats how you ended up underneath him, stripped of all your dignity (and your clothes), legs parted and body trembling, as your best friend laid you out on the couch, his cock sliding deep inside of your guts, one hand secured around your throat the other holding the underside of your thigh hiking your leg up over his shoulder, littered in bloody bite marks.

Oh, he was insatiable.

Every inch of your body had the marks of his canines, a bite here a bite there, some so rough the indents were dotted in little spots of maroon. Your hair was an awful mess, your throat littered in teeth marks and hickies, your thighs sticky from your own arousal as he fucked his cock into you, Wooyoung's eyes crazed with lust as he drove you over that perfect edge again, cunt clenching and eyes rolling as you came around his cock again, sinking his teeth into your earlobe, groaning like he was starving.

"Holy shit, baby, you're nasty." Wooyoung laughed against the shell of your ear, his heavy breaths and whimpering moans going directly to your brain as he fucked you like you owed him money, rough and claiming and deep.

"W-woo...!" you cried, brain fuzzy and stomach coiling in pleasure, every part of your body sensitive and sore, and you were sure tomorrow morning there was no way you'd make it out of bed. He used your poor body like he was in heat, relentless and mean, yet whispering the sweetest nothing against your ear, licking the dots of blood that seeped from the marks he had left all over your shoulders.

"Fuck baby, just like that."

"You're doing amazing, sweet thing, taking it all so well."

"Taste so good, fuck, shoulda told me about this sooner."

"So soaked and ruined for me, love the way you whine."

Every drag of his cock inside of your soaked pussy pulled moan after pathetic moan from your raw throat, Wooyoung slotting his lips with yours and swallowing your sweet noises, sinking his teeth into the plush fat of your bottom lip, tugging and smiling against you.

His nails dug into the bites, drawing more blood from your skin, moaning when you clenched around him each time he inflicted more pain. You could deny it all you want, but clearly you were loving it.

Wooyoung found his favorite place to mark you up was between your thighs. So close to your sensitive pussy, each time he bit the sensitive flesh between your legs, your whole body would jump, and your cunt would gush even more. To which he drank up too happily, gluttony embodied as he moaned into your sex like he couldn't get enough.

"So fuckin' pretty baby, all marked up from me. You're mine, aren't you? Say it..."

Mustering up the bit of brain cells he hadn't fucked out of you just yet, you obeyed. "Y-yours Woo... all yours.."

Wooyoung groaned and licked up a greedy stripe up the length of your jaw, pressing wet, sloppy kisses along the side of your throat, completely pussy drunk. “Yeah you are.”

Even when your brain was mush and your thighs trembled so hard you would've thought you were seizing, he continued to enjoy you, opting now for eating your poor overstimulated pussy until tears streamed down your face, his hands gripping your thighs for dear life like he was holding himself afloat so he wouldn't drown in your wetness.

Tongue lapping and teeth nipping, finger brushing your sensitive skin, and his swollen lips latching onto your clit and sucking without mercy.

"Wooyoung- please!" You begged, your sore hands gripping at his shoulders. His hands kept you pried open for him, digging into your thighs, buried in your cunt like he was trying to make a home there.

"More?" he replied, voice muffled as he didn't dare take his mouth off of you, laughing when you whined pathetically. "I can give you more baby, just lie there and feel good."

You shook your head back and forth as your attempt to get him to have mercy on you failed, your back arching and your brain hazing, Wooyoung's tongue sliding inside of you, curling, twisting, drinking you up completely ensurient.

"Holy fuck, honey. You taste so fucking good. All of you. Every- shit- every bit of you. Wish I could've tasted you sooner. You would have let me, wouldn't you?"

His fingers trailed up your inner thigh and promptly slid past your walls and curled inside of you perfectly, and you were cumming in no time, his tongue swirling around your clit, nipping it every now and then as he dragged you through your orgasm.

"Woo-!" you cried, your muscles started to give out on you as that orgasm nearly knocked you unconscious, and yet he refused to stop, like he was drunk on your juices. Like he truly was addicted to your taste.

"Is that a yes?" Wooyoung whined, slowing his fngers inside of you and stroking your walls so languidly you could feel every bit of pressure. "I know baby I know. Don’t worry, you can let me eat you out every day, and we can still stay friends. I promise...." he moaned, eyes rolling, licking up between your pussy lips like he couldn't bear to stay away from it.

"I promise, fuck..."

Just an absolute animal.

Note to self: Invest in a muzzle.

nsfw +18!!!

-listen listen he is a dom no question (but not a hard dom, but not as soft as san either), but sometimes he likes it when you take control and take care of him, he think it's super hot

-he likes to take it slow and sensual, so foreplay is a must for him, where he can tease you as he wants, likes both loving and playful sex

-it's quite surprising but his sex drive is high, and it is far more meaningful than a quick release of energy

-he's okay with quickies sometimes tho, but they don't fulfill him nearly as much, especially as his love of foreplay and kissing

-he is a vanilla lover, a good missionary where he can hide in the crook of your neck or can watch your beautiful face

-it would 90% start with a long makeout session or cuddling session

-turn-ons for him, pure and simple things, naked bodies, rubbing, mutual masturbation, oral sex, your arousal, and you guys's special connection is enough for him sometimes

-biggest turn-offs is rushing probably, as i said before he likes to take it slow, and doesn't really like someone impatient

-as i said before communication is really important in your relationship, so this is no exception in bed either, you guys talk a lot during it

nsfw +18!!!

-lots of people think he is a tease in bed too, but I think he is quite the opposite. wooyoung is a very impatient person, he cannot wait for long, especially when he wants you so bad

-I think I don't have to say it, but he is a sub in bed. likes to be taken care of and likes to be on the bottom

-there are times when he wants to take care of you tho, so he would switch and make you feel good all night long

-his hands all over your body, would touch everywhere he can reach, just can't get enough of you

-loves it when you kiss his neck, that's something he gets turned on immediately, also just compliment his body and this man is done right there

-very noisy, lots of whimpers and moans, doesn't really care if someone hears it

-i think he gets worked up pretty easily, so you guys would have sex every single time you meet or you sleep over at each other's place

-for positions, I would say cowgirl is the most common, but he likes everything where you are on the top and he can see you well

-blowjob is a must, even if you don't have sex, at a random bathroom of a restaurant or at the dance studio

nsfw +18!!!

-so I think mingi is a switch, he could be a soft dom (but not as soft as san if you know what I mean), but he's rather a sub, he likes it when you take control, he thinks it's extremely hot, but doesn't mind taking control either if you're in the mood for that

-it always starts out very soft and romantic, just like his kisses. cuddle times lead to sex 70% of the time, he just wants to feel you even closer to him

-other times he is just really horny, but that's a whole different kind of sex, it would be hot and steamy, like when he comes home all frustrated from practice because he was thinking about you the whole time, or when he gets a bit jealous because you got a bit too close to another member

-when he is a dom ohh boy you'll have a long night. he would do literally anywhere, in the kitchen, in the shower, on the couch

-manhandles you shamelessly, pushes you against the wall, and loves to slap your booty (but not in the way it actually hurts)

-but when he is a sub, he is so loving and careful, all light touches and tender kisses, he just wants to be babied at those times

-for positions, sub mingi loves it when you ride him, he loves the view he gets, but dom mingi loves a good doggy, also loves to view from behind 

-i think vocally he is a bit shy in the bedroom, wouldn't speak much during it, just groans a lot

-he loves to control you, but would never do something you don't like, and he could never hurt you, his heart could not bare it

-his sex drive is crazy, you have sex almost every time you meet, and can go multiple rounds, he has a lot of stamina

-he's worshipping your body every minute of it, he says things like "god, you're perfect" and "I want to kiss every part of you"

- and there's definitely not a single part on your body he hasn't kissed yet

-respect and trust are very important for him in the bedroom too, he would never say something to you he wouldn't say out of it, and he makes sure you feel safe and respected

-he loves to make you feel good more than himself, sometimes it's enough for him if he gives you head, and he doesn't want anything in return

-something that is a huge turn-off for him is when he's seeing you being hurt, either physically or verbally, so that's a no-no

-he asks you every here and there if you are enjoying yourself or you're feeling good, likes to know what you are thinking

- he always starts off slow and affectionate, but after some time he loses it and gets more and more faster and a little rougher (as I said he has a lot of stamina and needs to let it out somewhere)

-he's not too loud, he just groans and moans a lot into your ears

-he loves it when you sit on his lap and ride him though, he always holds your hand and tells you that you're doing good

nsfw +18!!!

-he is a switch, depending on the mood and the day he has, but literally always the sweetest when it comes to such a vulnerable state

-he doesn't really care about the pleasure part, but the emotions that comes with it, he likes to be close to you and the excitement that comes within

-it is kinda part of your routine now, maybe not every day but really often ends the day naked,  in each other's arms

-that's why the morning often starts with an intimate shower together

-yess, he is the vanilla type of guy, with traditional positions, where you can just hug each other real close

-something that would be a no no is anything really wild and out of his comfort zone, he is more like the traditional type of guy as i said, and seeing you in pain or hurt is also a big turn off

-lots of kisses and little "i love you" during sex

-not very vocal other than that, just lots of breath and groan

-could be very shy about it, so probably wouldn't do it when his members are around, or at least would be very careful and very quiet

-cockwarming is a must for him once in a while, he likes to be connected with you and being warmed by the love of his life

nsfw +18!!!

-okay hear me out he is a very emotional lover and sometimes he can get carried away by his feelings, but he is definitely a dom in the bedroom, not a hard dom, but not a soft dom (you know what I mean)

-he prefers intense sex, where can get everything out of his head, and the bedroom is the safest place for him to share it with the person he loves the most, he desires passion and intimacy

-doesn't mind trying out new things, as long as you are okay with it too, very open and adventurous

-his biggest turn-on is direct eye contact I'm telling you, this boy is a sucker for it. he loves how he can see every emotion on your face, it is very intimate and vulnerable for him 

-biggest turn off probably power play, he just doesn't like it when somebody is trying to control him, and probably everything that involves pain

-i feel like hongjoong would be very vocal in bed, sometimes having full-on conversations with you, and also even dirty talk, but only in a loving way, he would never be mean to you in such a vulnerable moment

-this man's sex drive is high af, you would have sex at least four times a week, but it's probably more than that, to be honest, literally doing it in every part of the house, in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, on the floor, literally everywhere

-so for positions, i think he would love a classic missionary where he can keep that eye contact but would love a good flatiron where he is doing you from behind but still stays close to you, also one of his favorites would be just scooping you up from behind, just cuddling up and kissing your face all over

-as i said before, he is very dominant but also very romantic at the same time. he doesn't really care about his pleasure, but yours instead. likes raw and passionate sex

-god the thing he can do with his tongue, it's really his super talent that no one can experience just you, probably eats you out as a hobby

-his libido is quite high, cuddle sessions often turn into sex not gonna lie. doesn't mind quickies either

-makes sure you enjoy ever minute of it, likes to asks you questions that you have to answer even tho you can't really speak at the moment. also loves talking dirty a little too much

-he's usually open do try new things like toys, as long as you are comfortable with it

-biggest turn-ons for him are seeing you in sexy clothes and probably good scents (yes he's sensitive to scents)

-he's really impatient, doesn't like to wait, so probably jumps in to things pretty quickly

-he doesn't really mind it when others hear it what you're doing, he thinks it's the proof of your love

-but also he's not very loud in bed, he just whimpers and really breathy

-please praise him!!!! he would be done right there and then

-for positions i think anything where he can be dominant (also always ready to try new ones), like a good doggy or the classic missionary, he just have to be top that's all

-a big cuddle session is a must for him after (especially bc the  previous one had to be interrupted), he wants to feel loved and wanted

park seonghwa ᰔᩚ

jeong yunho ᰔᩚ

kang yeosang ᰔᩚ

choi san ᰔᩚ

song mingi ᰔᩚ

jung wooyoung ᰔᩚ

choi jongho ᰔᩚ