#kpop reader insert

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There was something truly amusing about watching your boyfriend run off stage and almost immediately switch personas. On stage he was grinding, grabbing, biting, smirking, winking, acting like Aphrodite herself crafted him. Maybe she had crafted Ateez’s Mingi.

But off stage, the boy could barely get into a makeout session without suddenly blushing a deep crimson and hauling you off his lap. God forbid you realize you made the poor man hard.

The first time Mingi had pulled you into a real makeout session - not just a session where he kissed you a few times, maybe pulled you closer, and then inevitably let you go - you had thought maybe you were dreaming. He had pulled you closer, bodies flush to one another, his hands low on your back. You had your arms laced around his neck, lips moving together. His lips were warm, plump, slightly wet from the exchange of saliva between the two of you. He nearly moaned into your mouth when you tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his head to the side to angle the kiss. His hands had pulled you closer, one of his thighs unconsciously slipping between your legs. 

His tongue ran along your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him, but he pulled back, all brazenness gone from his body. You weren’t going to let it go, too worked up to find yourself able to release him, and you pushed your tongue into his mouth roughly. He groaned, tilting you back and tangling his tongue with yours.

And just when you thought it would go further, maybe a little under-the-clothes action, he had pulled away, ears red, eyes not quite finding yours, and hands now respectfully placed higher on your waist. 

He had said something about being tired, lots of practice and everything, and you weren’t going to push it. 

That was common with Mingi, the heavy moments suddenly ending despite how he was obviously into it. You wondered, briefly, if he wasn’t sexually attracted to you, but with the way he got hard with even a little bit of kissing these days or a suggestive comment whispered in his ear, that couldn’t be it.

Which brought you to your current conclusion: Mingi was a virgin. 

Cute.

You watched from a backstage monitor as he got fans barking for him in the crowd, a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he egged them on. He looked sinful, sunglasses pushed down his nose, mouth caught between his sharp teeth lightly. His jacket had fallen off his shoulder and his shoulder muscles were shiny with sweat. His tanktop was leaving little to the imagination, chest heaving after a performance. 

You found yourself imagining what it would look like with his chest heaving as he laid over you, hips snapping forward, grown-out hair falling into his eyes. You could imagine his biceps flexing, the puffs of air.

You had to blink hard as the camera switched to Yeosang, looking around a little guiltily like maybe somebody could read your mind and had seen… all of that. Smoothing a hand over your hair, you focused back on the concert, grateful that the staff had even let you backstage to begin with. It was a privilege, the black shirt on your back that also said “Staff,” and you weren’t going to ruin it by being weird about your boyfriend in public instead of enjoying the concert he had worked hard to get you access to.

It was a good concert, always filled with incredible showmanship, and you felt pride swelling in your chest. They had worked hard. You remembered the nights Mingi had called you, voice slurring from fatigue, to tell you goodnight and that he loved you and he was sorry he had been busy all day. Tour stuff, baby, he’d always said.

It was late when you finally left the concert venue with some of the other staff members. You’d pitched in, rolling up cables and helping sweep up about a ton of confetti after the concert. A little known fact, you’d realized, was that confetti was hard as fuck to sweep up. It flew out of piles when pushed with too much effort, got heavy when it built up, and stuck to everything. You may not have spent hundreds of dollars on a seat, but you felt maybe this made up about a quarter of that price. Your body ached by the end of it.

You texted Mingi that you were on your way and he sent back a picture of him, freshly showered and hair still damp at the ends, lounging in - that little shit - your hotel room. You’d given him the extra keycard and it looked like he was taking full advantage of that, messing up your freshly-made bed before you could.

You saved the photo and sent him a classy picture of your middle finger back. All you got back was a winky-face.

Dick.

He was still waiting for you in his white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, watching a Myth Buster’s rerun on the T.V. when you keyed into your room. He slid off the bed and, yeah.

Dick.

The grey sweatpants were doing him favors. They hung low on his hips, the outline of his member pretty obvious in the thin material. The ties hanging down from his waistband were practically pointing for your eyes to look down, drawing them to the print. 

You swallowed hard, your mind focusing on the earlier fantasies from the concert. But Mingi looked just happy to see you, his smile wide and his eyes bright. 

He grabbed you around the waist and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. He breathed in deeply and you hugged him back just as tightly, feeling the way his back muscles rippled as he adjusted his grip. You ran your hands over them lightly, then down his arms, pushing your hands under his t-shirt sleeves slightly to feel the warmth of his skin, how soft it was. You sighed, swaying lightly.

“Are you tired?” you whispered.

Mingi nodded into your neck, burying even more deeply into the crook. He rubbed his hands down your back then placed a kiss to your shoulder. You smiled, pulling your hands out of his shirt to pet his head lightly.

“Let me shower, then we can go to sleep, hmm?”

Reluctantly, he unwound his arms as you gathered up your pajamas and underwear to go shower. You saw Mingi peeking at the ensemble, his neck rosy as he saw the tiny panties you were wearing to bed.

You had packed them in the event that something happened, but figured you may need to give it a little push. They were going to be hell to sleep in, but maybe it was worth it by the way Mingi’s eyes got a little glassier by the second, his ears a little redder, and his dick… a little harder. You weren't going to ask him outright for sex after such a grueling performance on stage, but you wanted to let him know you were interested.

You let out a breathy laugh, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. He swallowed hard, turning to catch your cheek with a kiss as you turned to disappear into the bathroom.

Hot shower burning your skin slightly, you really tried to get thoughts of fucking Mingi out of your mind. He was tired, and despite the fact that he was obviously turned on, maybe tonight wasn’t the night to push it.

He seemed to have other plans when you stepped out of the bathroom, throwing your clothes on your suitcase unceremoniously to pack away tomorrow. His hands were suddenly on you, slipping below the waist to cup your ass. His hands kneaded your ass roughly, his lips attached to yours and bit. You gasped into the kiss, his tongue slipping inside your mouth.

You adjusted to slip his leg between your thighs, your underwear soaked. You wondered, vaguely, if you would leave a wet spot on his sweatpants.

Then, he did something that had you moaning breathlessly, your neck and back arching. 

His lips trailed down the side of your neck, wet and open-mouthed. He reached up to pull your shirt to the side, his kisses trailing down to your shoulder, and then he bit down, hard, and sucked a deep purple hickie onto your shoulder. 

The sensation made your skin buzz, and you clawed at his back, your hips pushing forward to grind against Mingi’s thigh. Your thigh brushed his length, and he groaned deeply against your shoulder where he was leaving a smattering of hickies. 

The sensation seemed like it brought him back to your hotel room, and he was moving away swiftly, his eyes wide, his hair a mess, and his chest heaving. 

“What?” you breathed, your lips slightly tingling and swollen from kissing him so roughly. You were breathingly heavily, too, your clit was throbbing, and you wanted Mingi pressed back against you in the next few seconds.

“I, uh, I’m gonna brush my teeth so we can go to bed,” he said.

Then, he kissed your cheek lightly like he hadn’t just branded you as his, and he disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft click behind him. You groaned, sitting down hard on the edge of the bed, and gripped your hair tightly to bring yourself back.

For once, you really hated staying in the fancy hotel. It didn’t even have a detachable shower head.

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Mingi was about to do something really, really embarrassing and probably a little traumatic. He was going to ask someone to have the sex talk with him. Not the one parents have about condoms and abstinence, the one about how to actually have sex and pleasure someone. 

And he kind of wanted to bash his head into the wall.

The world tour was over, they finally had some time off to relax, and he still hadn’t mustered up the courage to have sex with you. He’d gotten close on tour, the adrenaline from the concert still fueling him as he kissed you, left marks on you, and then ditched you to cool down in the bathroom. He had stood there, the tile cool against his feet, and stared at himself in the mirror feeling a little pathetic.

The truth was, he was terrified that he would do something so egregious during sex that you would break up with him. He’d never had sex before, had only seen porn in passing when his friends had showed it to him when he was younger, and he really didn’t even know where to begin. 

He had tried to watch porn for ideas once he started dating you, but even with his headphones on and the brightness all the way down, it just felt wrong. He had gotten one whole minute into a video before he turned it off, stomach clenching not with arousal but with discomfort.  

He’d read, and this he wasn’t super proud of, fanfiction, too, but it just didn’t feel right. He wasn’t really some sex god in real life, throwing women’s legs over his shoulder and dragging their underwear off with his teeth. He wasn’t grabbing boobs from behind as he pounded his dick into dripping pussies.

He felt a little pathetic and even more scared after reading that, his own inexperience crowding into the forefront of his mind. His own sex-ed in school had been abysmal, mainly telling them that they shouldn’t really be in the same room as girls, and he had learned only recently about the world of different condoms. (He had closed the Coupang tab very quickly.)

So there he was, standing in front of Yunho’s closed bedroom door, wanting to strangle himself with his hoodie strings. His second choice had been Hongjoong, that man definitely knew how to fuck, but the thought of listening to Hongjoong talk about sex made him positive he could never look the man in the eye again. With Yunho, this probably wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he asked him, and it definitely wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they’d experienced together.

He finally brought his closed fist up to knock, the knock timid. 

It took a minute, but Yunho answered, his hair smushed down on the side he’d been laying on. He had probably been watching videos when Mingi interrupted.

“Hey,” Yunho said slowly. “What’s up, man?”

Mingi blinked, the words he had carefully planned shrivelling up and dying in his throat. He scratched his arm awkwardly.

“Can I come in?” he asked instead, the thought of even asking Yunho to talk him through sex in the open so humiliating he wanted to throw up. 

Yunho seemed to sense something, his eyes filling with concern as he opened up the door wider for Mingi to slide by him to enter. 

Mingi sat down hard on Yunho’s desk chair, rolling back and forth absentmindedly as he tried to bring back the courage to ask his friend for advice. He didn’t need dirty details, just a rough outline. Yunho sat on his bed and stared at him, giving him space to think.

He was grateful to have Yunho in his life, to get to share the fame with him and the quiet moments, too. He knew Yunho would maybe - probably - rib him about the sex thing, but he would also try and help him earnestly. 

“How do you have sex?”

It came out with no finesse, his voice scratchy and deep. He stared anywhere but at Yunho’s shocked expression, his eyebrows furrowed as he willed his body to stay seated in the desk chair. 

Yunho, to his credit, tried to keep his face mostly blank after the initial shock wore off. He cleared his throat, shifted, cleared his throat again, said, “ah,” then shifted again. The rustling of his sheet was the only sound in the room, the only sound in the dorm, even. 

“Just basics,” Mingi clarified, looking down, voice coming out no louder than a mumble. 

“Well, the penis goes in the vagina, then it goes in and out, in and out-” Yunho started.

“Okay I’m leaving,” Mingi said quickly, standing up and sending the desk chair flying backwards into the wall as Yunho finally broke and began laughing, covering his mouth to muffle the sound. He reached out and grabbed Mingi’s wrist as he passed and pulled him back.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, gasping. “I’ll be serious now. I think it’s nice you trust me enough to ask me. I just had to, okay? Now I’ll be serious.”

Mingi glared down at Yunho’s hand, but he moved backward and slid back into the desk chair, swiveling side to side and Yunho sat up straight and leaned back against the wall, his eyes focused on Mingi. He waited a beat before speaking again.

“What do you want to know, exactly?”

Mingi shrugged. “I know, like, how it works I guess. I know about, um, foreplay and the… penetration.” He choked. His cheeks burned.

Yunho hummed. “What are you worried about then?”

“I know about them, but I have no fucking clue how to even do any of it. What if I hurt Y/N or it’s so bad she breaks up with me? I’m serious, Yunho, it’s scary.”

The room was quiet again, not even the sounds of rustling breaking the silence. Mingi picked at his cuticle then stopped, thinking about the hell he’d get from the stylists for doing that. Instead, he focused on the sound of his breathing. 

“Well, sex shouldn’t be scary. And I don’t think Y/N would break up with you if it’s bad. Have you told her you’ve never had sex before?”

Silence.

“Dude,” Yunho deadpanned. “Come on.”

“It’s embarrassing!” Mingi whined. “Especially because I’m pretty sure she’s had sex before, and that means I have to be the best at it!”

He was pouting now, staring up at the door to Yunho’s bedroom and willing it to explore inward, killing him instantly. 

“So you hate your girlfriend is what I’m hearing.”

Mingi’s head snapped toward Yunho at that comment, his eyes wide. 

“What the fuck, man. I love her. You know that.”

“And yet you’re not telling her these fears,” Yunho countered, sitting up and staring at Mingi harshly. “You don’t need me to tell you how to have sex with your girlfriend who obviously loves you. You need to suck it up and tell you girlfriend that you’ve never had sex, you’re not sure what you’re doing, but you’re willing to learn. Then, you fucking learn, you dumbass. That’s how you get to be the best.”

Yunho leaned back again, his face smoothing out to something contemplative.

“Actually,” he said, “you have the advantage here. She teaches you what she likes, you do that, you’re doing everything she likes, you’re the best. Then you keep having sex forever, congrats.”

Mingi cleared his throat as the words hit his brain. Yunho was right, sarcasm aside. This could only really be positive for him, learning what you liked and putting it into play so you never had a bad sexual experience with him - or anyone else ever again because he wanted to be your last and final boyfriend. He bit his lip at the thought, fighting a grin.

“You do know you need condoms though, right?” Yunho said, shattering the moment. “STDs and babies are no joke man.”

Mingi flipped him off as he stood up, but he was smiling. 

“I’m built different, I’ll be fine,” he joked, face impassive as he walked out of Yunho’s room.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not!” Yunho cried after him, and Mingi finally let out a laugh as he closed the bedroom door behind him. 

He had a plan now, one that became fully formulated after he finally bought condoms online - ribbed for her pleasure - and he felt good. He was going to have sex with you and it was going to be the best sex of your life. Obviously it would also be the best of his life, but that was besides the point. 

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Step One: spend the night at your house and begin the “wine” portion of “wining and dining”.

He had picked up dinner from your favorite place on his way over, the food still hot as he knocked on your door.

You answered and he couldn’t help but bully his way in and kick the door closed to engulf you in a hug. You were warm in his arms, fitting into his chest perfectly. Your laugh rumbled against his chest and he breathed in your scent. 

“Delivery,” he said, pulling back to smile at you and wave the food in front of your face teasingly.

“I hope the delivery man stays. He’s pretty cute,” you joked, swiftly kissing his lips before stepping back to let him fully inside the apartment. 

He slid off his shoes and stepped in, setting the food on the counter and shooing you to go sit so he could serve dinner. He pulled out the wine he’d gotten - something fruity he knew you’d like - and brought over the wine glasses and food, balancing it all carefully on his forearm. 

“Date night,” he said softly, sliding to sit beside you and holding up his glass for a toast. You giggled at his silliness before clinking your glass with his. The bright sound lit up the room a little bit more, and you smiled after taking the first sip. Paired with the food, that man had an agenda, you just couldn’t figure it out yet.

Dinner was perfect, it usually was with Mingi unless he was trying to cook something. One time he had tried to help you make dinner by chopping the vegetables and he massacred the carrots so badly you’d quietly thrown away the mushy mess and said you had just needed him to prep them for a different meal. 

It was when the two of you were doing dishes that Mingi finally brought sex up.

Step Two: spill the beans.

“It’s not that I don’t find you sexy, I obviously do,” he mumbled to your wine glasses suddenly. “I just… haven’t had sex before. And it’s a little embarrassing. But I want to, have sex that is. With you. Obviously.”

You had stilled where you were drying a plate, your eyes glued to your boyfriend’s sharp side profile. He kept washing the same glass over and over, like he was trying to wash the glass clean away. He kept scrubbing diligently, his eyes never leaving the suds. 

“Okay,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. You cleared your throat. “Okay.” It came out stronger that time. 

You grabbed your boyfriend’s forearm to stop him. He tensed, finally stopped washing the glass, and glanced at you. You smiled at him, drawing lazy circles on his arm with your thumb. His skin was soft. His cheeks were pink.

“You’ll teach me?” he asked quietly, his eyes meeting yours. They were dark, deep, flickering with something you had seen before. It was more intense this time, the desire. 

“Of course,” you whispered.

His wet, soapy hands were on your waist in an instant, grabbing you so tightly you knew you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. You didn’t care about your clothes getting wet, just that your lips were on his, bruising and wet. Mingi groaned into your mouth and his hands were on your ass, reminding you of your hotel stay. Your spine tingled at the thought, and you pulled yourself closer to Mingi’s body by grabbing his hair and yanking. He groaned.

“Fuck, baby. You’re going to kill me before we can do anything.”

Unknown to you, Step Three of Mingi’s plan was to not come right away. 

You raked your fingers through his hair and started moving back, heading toward the bedroom. Mingi let you lead him blindly, panting against your mouth as he kissed you, his hands sliding up and off your ass and under your shirt. His fingers grazed your skin lightly and somehow that was sexier than his grip on your ass had been. Your skin burned where he touched you and you unlatched your lips from his to kiss down his neck.

“I won’t mark you,” you whispered by his ear, biting his earlobe lightly. He whimpered slightly, tilting his head to let you have better access to his neck.

“You can,” he said, panting. “Just has to be below the shirt, okay? I want you to mark me. Please, baby.”

You clenched your thighs at the demand, your pussy so wet it was making your underwear stick to you. It was uncomfortable but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, kissing your boyfriend’s neck while his hands wandered to your stomach lightly, then up. 

He stopped just shy of your breasts, his hands stilling against your ribs. They were so broad they took up most of the space on your torso, rough and warm. You leaned into his hands, but he remained still. 

He wasn’t really sure where to go from there. He wanted to touch your breasts, obviously, wanted to slip his hands underneath your bra and feel the soft skin, the warm nipples, make them harden under his fingers. Maybe even leave marks on the swell of your breasts to admire later, right over your heart. 

But he was nervous now. It was further than he’d ever been with you and his mind had come back online and stopped his body. Well, it had stopped his hands from moving and his mouth from forming any words, but it didn’t stop his length from hardening further. Trapped against your bodies, he knew you could feel it, especially when you pushed yourself closer to him, ground down hard against him.

At his sudden stillness, you pulled back and removed your hands. He looked wide eyed, his mouth starting to form what was probably “sorry” before you grabbed his hands and placed them squarely on your boobs. He let out an undignified squeak, but his hands began kneading the soft flesh. You let go of his hands and reached around to unhook your bra, letting it go loose. You wanted to take your shirt off, the feeling of your bra and his hands stretching it out making it uncomfortable, but you worried it would send Mingi into a panic. So you let him knead your breasts, his fingers swiping over your nipples before he began kissing down your neck. 

You’d had sex before with men who had done similar things, but with Mingi it was different. Maybe it was because you loved him or maybe it was because he was so earnest and eager to please. But he was also lost in his own pleasure, his nerves falling away to be replaced by lust. When he pulled back and looked at you, his eyes were dark, hooded, his mouth swollen and even plumper. He looked sinful, his hair falling into his eyes as he pulled his hands back, reached around to the back of his own shirt, and pulled it off in one swift movement.

You couldn’t help yourself, your eyes roaming over his torso. You’d seen him shirtless before, but in this context you looked at him with reverence. He was beautiful, toned, skin golden. You ran your hand down his chest, his stomach, stopping at his pants to dip a finger just below his waistband. He bucked his hips unconsciously into the touch. You were pleased to see that even his chest turned pink when he was embarrassed. 

He preened slightly under your touch before pulling back, shoulders drawing in slightly. You took it as a sign to strip with him, make him more comfortable.

Grabbing your shirt by the hem, you pulled it over your head swiftly, your bra catching and lifting to show under your breast. Mingi sucked in a breath, his hips stuttering as he looked at you. His eyes mapped the expanse of your torso, and as you slid your bra off your shoulders slowly you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed roughly. His eyes were hooded, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

You didn’t have to grab his hands this time. He leaned in, massaging one breast lightly while sucking dark marks into the other. You moaned at the sensation, pushing forward into his mouth. You tested the waters, your hand sliding down the front of his pants to cup his hard length, and he bucked into your hand.

He switched to your other breast, marking a trail across your chest that would last for the days to come. It went straight south, making you throb, your thighs rubbing. Your hand rubbed up the front of his length, his breath hitching, before he pulled your hand to the button on his pants. You thumbed it, undid it quickly, and then let Mingi take the lead to take his pants off. 

He slid them off without fanfare, gripping yours and pulling them off quickly. Too quickly. Your panties slid down with them, leaving you bare. Mingi sucked in a breath.

“Oh shit, sorry. Sorry. Wait let me-” Then he was pulling his own underwear off, stepping out of it. 

Left bare in the warm light coming from a small lamp on your bedside table, you stared at your boyfriend unabashedly. He was strong, lean, and so, so handsome. His cheekbones stood out in the lighting, and you couldn’t help but reach up and graze them tenderly with your fingertips. He leaned into your touch, grabbing your wrist before you could fully pull away to kiss your fingertips.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered. 

“You’re one to talk,” you whispered back, drawing closer to press your body against his. He shivered. His hands held your waist tightly. “You are so perfect.”

“I was hoping for sexy,” he whispered, then bent down to nip at your neck lightly.

“Don’t push it,” you joked back, leaning down to leave a love bite on his peck, right by where his heart was nearly beating out of his chest. He hissed at the sensation.

“Co-condom,” he murmured, and you nodded. You had a stash in your bedside table for just this moment, and you moved to get them before he stopped you lightly, gripping your arm. He bent down and dug around to find his wallet. 

Then, he pulled out the purple wrapped condom. Ribbed for her pleasure. Ah, he’d done some research.

You pushed him in the chest lightly and he sat down hard on the bed, scooting back slightly to allow you to climb onto his lap. He handed you the condom, letting you roll it down his length. You pumped it a few times to make sure it was on. 

Satisfied, you straddled him. His eyes dropped to your breasts then further down, hands coming up to grip your hips. Fully naked, your pussy wet and dripping, you ground hard against his cock. Mingi groaned, his hands gripping and guiding your hips. You held onto his shoulders and let him pick the pace. 

Just to tease him, you let his tip slip inside of you as you drug your hips back down. The stuttering breath it pulled from him was enough to make you grin, and you buried your face in his neck as you did it again, the slow drag of your hips, the quick catch of his tip, all making him groan into your ear.

“You have to tell me what you want, okay?” you whispered. 

You had had ample time in this relationship to consider what you wanted to do the first time the two of you had sex. You wanted to blow him, to feel him try and refrain from bucking his hips up, to try and stop himself from choking you. You wanted him to guide your head lightly, sinful words about how well you were taking him in your mouth falling from his lips.

You had a strong suspicion that if you blew him tonight he would cum in a matter of seconds and you really wanted him inside of you.

Thankfully, Mingi seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“I want to be inside of you, baby, to stretch, ah, to stretch you out.”

And he would. He was thick, just the tip making you feel a light stretch. 

The next time you ground your hips down, you let more of his length dip into your pussy. Slowly, you lowered yourself down, legs shaking slightly, bobbing lightly to let yourself adjust before sinking to completely engulf his length. He let out a strangled moan, diving forward to kiss you hard and wet. 

You lifted up and dropped down on him, the curve of his length hitting just the right spot inside of you that you were both moaning at the sensation. 

Riding Mingi was something else you had imagined, but the real thing was so much better. The heat of his dick, the slight squelch of your wetness encompassing him, the way he groaned underneath you and his abs tensed at every movement, the way he dropped his head to leave more marks across your breasts, the sensation of his dick hitting your G-spot constantly. It was all so delicious. You leaned back, letting his dick repeatedly hit that perfect spot, your head falling back. His hips snapped up into you each time, the sensation jolting you.

Suddenly, Mingi was pushing your hips down hard, stilling your movements. You clenched your pussy around him, and he whimpered.

“Fuck, fuck, stop. I don’t want to cum yet,” he mumbled into your neck. 

You nodded, running a hand through his hair and pushing his bangs off his face. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. 

“I want,” he started, then stopped. His eyes were dark, hooded again, and his entire body was flushed. 

“You can say it,” you murmured.

“I want to fuck you from behind.”

He said it resolutely. Then, the second he saw you nod okay, he was pulling you off and flipping you over. You let out an undignified yelp at the movement. You knew Mingi was strong but holy fuck. 

Barely getting your hands underneath you, you arched your back as he pushed into you from behind. His hips snapped forward and, oh, fuck. 

“Fuck, Mingi,” you whined.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he groaned from behind you, his hips picking up the pace and finding a steady rhythm. “I might… I might not…”

“It’s okay.”

His grip on your hips was bruising, a hand gripping your ass leaving red marks across the cheek. Your legs and arms were shaking, your pussy clenching around his length. He pulled your hips up, angled down, and you were seeing stars. You could feel the beginnings of an orgasm pooling low in your stomach, the way your pussy dripped more, the heat that spread. You wanted to cum, the ribs of the condom stimulating you. 

Mingi came first, his hips stuttering and a string of expletives leaving his plump lips. He stilled inside of you, falling over to rest his chest on your back. He was panting, his damp hair tickling your shoulder blades.

“How do I make you cum, baby? Tell me how to do that?” he grunted, pulling out of you. You whined at the loss of contact. It really felt like he was edging you, and you were impatient. 

“Get between my legs and make me cum with your mouth,” you commanded, your brain fuzzy with the need to cum. You rolled onto your back and gave him a pointed look.

He shivered, pulling the condom off and tying it. He looked around frantically before spotting your trash can, throwing it away before pushing you onto your back and practically diving between your legs. 

Soft kisses on your thighs had your legs spreading, and the sharp nips that came after them had your legs clenching around his head. He grinned up at you from his spot between your legs, but he looked nervous.

You ran a hand through his hair softly before gripping the hair at his crown. 

“It’s all about the licking and sucking. Your fingers… I want them inside of me too.”

Mingi nodded, drinking in your words. Then his tongue was put to good use, licking a stripe up your pussy before teasing at your entrance. The slick heat made you moan and tug his hair, and he dipped his tongue inside of you, curling up and flicking it.

The sounds you made egged him on. He really didn’t know what he was doing, but he figured if you weren’t saying “ow” or “stop that’s awful” he was doing okay. He kept his eyes on you, on the way your head was thrown back and your breasts heaved as he ate you out like a man starving. 

He replaced his tongue with two fingers, lightly twisting them to see your reaction. There seemed to be a spot he should hit, and he wiggled his fingers forward until he found it. God, his fingers were perfect, thick yet graceful as they pumped inside of you. His mouth attached to your clit and sucked, lightly at first then harshly. Your back arched off the bed.

“Fuck, who taught you that? I thought you said-” you were cut off by him humming against your clit, the vibrations going straight to your core. “Don’t stop.”

He looked beautiful between your legs, strong back visible, muscles shifting as he fingered you. His eyes never left yours, sharp and watchful. He was going to make this good, he was making this good, you wanted more of him always. You couldn’t imagine not jumping his bones the next time you saw him with how good it felt, but you would find a way to restrain.

The warmth in your stomach grew, your pussy throbbed, and then everything was warm. You tensed around his fingers, bucking forward into his mouth as you came. You could barely even let out a moan with how intense the sensation was. Stars danced in front of your eyes and your entire body coiled then uncoiled. You pulled Mingi off of you and he looked at you, triumphant and smirking.

“Fuck, come here,” you whispered, and he climbed up to kiss you, wiping his mouth on the way up. It was a soft kiss, full of reassurance and love.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said once you parted. 

“I love you, too, Mingi. So much.”

He grinned, then the crook of his transformed into a shit-eating smirk. “So… how was it?”

He already knew the answer. You huffed, turning away slightly.

“It was fine,” you lied, and he knew you were lying. “Would be better if we showered together now.”

You side-eyed him.

Not even a minute later he was with you in the shower, begging you to wash his back with your nice loofah and soap. 

────────────────────────

“So…” Yunho said it casually, like he was about to ask about the weather or Mingi’s thoughts on having lunch together. “You did okay?”

Yeosang looked between the two of them, his eyes following the flush on Mingi’s neck and the way Yunho was covering his smile with his glass of water. 

Mingi cleared his throat and looked away.

“Yeah, it was good. Great. Went well.”

Yeosang eyed him as Yunho snorted, eyebrow raising. The lightbulb clicked suddenly, Yeosang’s eyes widening as he looked between the two of them.

“A threesome? Really?” he gasped, shaking his head. “Didn’t think you’d be one to share.”

Mingi let out a strangled sound while Yunho choked on his water, pounding his chest as he coughed violently. 

“NO!” Mingi spluttered. “No, oh my- how?”

“He’s not a virgin anymore,” Yunho croaked, rubbing his chest like he could massage the rest of the water out of his lungs.

Yeosang nodded knowingly, his mouth curling up at the corner. “I know. Just wanted to hear you admit you were a virgin. Wooyoung owes me.”

Mingi’s mouth dropped open and Yuho stared at him, gaze piercing. 

“There was a bet?”

“Why wasn’t I let it on this?”

Both boys started speaking at the same time.

“No way, you knew he was a virgin already,” Yeosang said dryly. “And yeah, I had 20,000 won on the table.”

“Sellout,” Yunho mumbled, turning to head back to the couch and finish the movie the group had all been watching together. 

“20,000… that’s all my sex life is worth to you?” Mingi mumbled, turning to follow Yeosang into the room. The other boy just shrugged. “What can that even buy?”

“Post-sex chicken,” Yeosang whispered, settling back into his spot.

Mingi stood, dumbfounded, until Seonghwa gently tugged his arm to make him sit back down. He barely even watched the movie. His mind was too focused on ways he could make himself spontaneously combust.

Virgin.

You laid on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels, your hair still dripping water from your 3rd scalding hot shower today, soaking your shirt and the throw pillow you rested on, but you couldn’t care less; not when cramps straight from the seventh circle of hell were currently rolling through your abdomen.

The doctor assured you that switching to this new birth control would help alleviate the cramps and the nausea and the headaches and the PMS symptoms you’d been plagued with since you hit puberty.

The bitch lied through her teeth.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you boyfriend entered the room, arms laden like a pack mule with various comfort items. He’d been waiting on you hand and foot for the last couple days, much to your displeasure. It’s not that you minded him doing things, in fact you appreciated him greatly, but you felt bad watching him run around the house trying to find something, anything, to ease your misery.

He’d already spent the better part of the morning rubbing your back, stomach, and hips for over an hour, without a complaint in sight. Now he’s plopped down next to your curled legs to deposit his newest inventory onto the coffee table.

“Ok, Tylenol, Ibuprofen, full water bottle with no ice this time, adhesive heatwraps, a hot water bottle, your large WolfChan stuffie, 2 chocolate bars, canned espresso and…”

“Pickles?!” you ask incredulously.

“Yes, pickles. You need electrolytes and the vinegar triggers a nerve reflex in the throat that tells your body to relax. It’s why you see me drinking pickle juice when I come back from the gym. Sounds crazy, but trust me.” Chan replies matter of factly.

“Ok, Shaun T. Are we gonna sweat to the oldies with a Beach Body workout next?” your sarcastic giggle is cut short by another wave of cramping that causes you to curl into yourself tighter.

“Babygirl, I can’t stand seeing you like this. What can I do?” Chan asks with a pained expression.

“There’s not much you can do, babe.” you reply through gritted teeth. “That bitch ass doctor said the new birth control would help, but she was a lying TWAT OW!!” another solid pinch comes from deep within your abdomen.

“Want me to go get your wand?” Chan asks as he rubs soothing circles into your thigh.

“It’s dead and I really don’t feel like dickin’ with it. No pun intended.” you finally relax your body a bit as the recent wave of pain subsides.

“Fine, then I’ll dick with it.” he announces as he rises from his seat next to you and bends to hook an arm under you leg and one under your neck and carries you off to the bedroom.

“Chan! Put me down! What the fuck?” you cry out in surprise, no choice but to hang on for the ride.

“You know orgasms help cramps and I’m at my wits end here seeing you like this. I’ll take care of it my way.” he replies as he deposits you at the end of your bed and goes off to the linen closet to retrieve towels and a couple washcloths.

“Chan, what are you thinking?” you ask, knowing full well what his answer will be. For months now he’d been begging you to let him ‘relieve your pain’ with either giving you head or literal sex during that time of the month and you always shot him down cold. It’s not that the idea completely turned you off, per se, it was more of the fact that you couldn’t imagine letting anyone do something like that, no matter how badly they seemed to want to.

“You already know what I'm thinking and I’m not taking no for an answer.” he affirms as he lays the linens on the bed next to you. He notices your apprehensive glare and adds “Unless you really don’t want me to and it’s a hard stop I'll honor but, please let me help you babygirl?”

“But it’s so gross!”, you whine, falling back on to the bed from where you were propped up on your elbows and watching him.

“How is it gross?” he asks genuinely.

“It’s dirty.” you answer with a shiver of disgust.

“I beg your pardon? How is anything regarding your body, dirty? Especially when you’ve taken 3 showers this morning that were hot enough to boil a lobster?” he seemed genuinely offended by your remark.

“Ok, fine. It’s messy.” you scrunch your face at the thought.

“Uh-huh. Sex is always messy.” he points at the towels and rags by your feet. “That’s what these and soap and water are for.” he replied simply, as if he was referring to the sky being blue or water being wet.

“Have you even tried it before?” he asks, sitting down beside you nearer to the head of the bed.

“I mean, yeah. Once a long time ago, but it was a complete accident because I didn’t realize I’d started. The guy was pretty sketched out too. Thought he’d popped my cherry or something and I was gonna be a stage 5 clinger after. He ran like a scalded rabbit.” you explained. “Have you? Done….that?”

“Yeah.” his affirmative held no emotion beneath, yet it still sparked white hot jealousy in your gut for a split second. It was bad enough you had to accept there were women before you, but there was also someone he cared enough about to do that with her? For her? Oh these hormones are bullshit.

Chan, being the ever observant boyfriend that he is, immediately notices resentment cloud your features and pulls you into him.

“I did it because it honestly doesn’t bother me. It’s a natural bodily function like breathing or sleeping. I’m not a squeamish person to begin with, but even if I was, I would find a way to get past it to do this for you. I love you. I love everything about you and I want to take care of you in every way that I can. I want to be close to you, even if it means getting a little blood on my sword.” he quips with a lewd grin, causing you to swat at his chest with a groan.

“Maybe we’d get lucky and I could stop your periods for about 9 months because the medicine’s a dud.”

“CHRISTOPHER!” you shout before burying your head into his chest, his chuckle vibrating through you.

“C’mon babygirl, let me make you feel better. Please?” his tone held a teasing weight as his hand found it’s way between your thighs, the warmth of his touch sending a shock of arousal through your center and causing a different kind of cramp.

“A-Are you really sure? I mean really?” you worry at your bottom lip, feeling slightly embarrassed for even asking.

“I’m very sure, babygirl” his lips peppering light kisses against your neck as his fingers trace lazy circles above your clit with only a barrier of light cotton underwear and shorts separating you.

“Make me feel better Chris.” you whimper as he trails kisses down to your collarbone, pausing only to pull your shirt over your head and watch as your nipples tighten in the cool air.

He takes a breast gently in his hand, lightly jiggling it and discerning it feels heavier; fuller from the added hormones in your body. You wince slightly.

“They hurt don’t they babygirl?” he lets go of the flesh and wanders his hand back down towards your belly, resuming a light massage. “I won’t mess with them anymore.” he promises with one last hungry look at the globes he so desperately wants to taste as he slides his hand under the waistband of your shorts. You tense instinctively.

“Shhhhh babygirl. Just relax. You don’t have to do anything else but relax and enjoy, okay?” his fingertips slide below the band of your underwear and continue toward his desired destination. His fingers brush against your clit, pulling a whimper from you as you actively will your legs to unclench.

“That’s it. That’s my girl” he praises as he slides down your body, peppering more open mouthed kisses as he goes. You clench again, only this time it’s from another cramp ricocheting through your body. It distracts you long enough for him to get his fingers closer to his target where he confirms his hope. You’re brought back to the moment when you feel his fingers gently tug at your tampon string.

“Oh babygirl, you prepared my meal I see.” his tone is heavy with desire as he situates himself between your legs and nuzzles directly into your clothed heat. He reaches up to pull at the clothing that keeps him from his prize. You lift your hips shakily, still nervous about where things are going, even though you know you’re safe with him, but it still startles you when you feel his lips ghost over yours between your thighs and you jump backwards at least a foot.

He meets your wide eyed stare with one of complete calm even though he wants nothing more than to dive headfirst into the deep end. “Babygirl, please? It’s okay. You’re okay.” he soothes the inside of your thighs with light touches before he slowly starts pulling you back down towards him. You meet his gaze with momentary reservation before you relent and lay back, closing your eyes and allowing your man to soothe your painful body.

His tongue flicks out to swipe against you, barely enough pressure to spread your lips apart around his wet muscle and make contact with your swollen clit. A labored gasp escapes you just before his tongue returns with much more pressure this time, swirling around the throbbing pearl just the way you like; pleasure awakening along your nerves slowly like a sunrise.

“Chris, god, feels s-so good.”

He groans at your affirmation, the vibrations from his voice drawing more blood flow to your stiffening nub. His tongue swipes around the innermost corners of your labia without getting too close to your entrance in fear of you shutting this whole thing down; he opts to voice his desires instead.

“Wish this damn thing wasn’t in my way.” he pouts as a fingertip glides across your entrance and over the cotton string. “Wanna taste you babygirl. All of you, so fucking bad.” his lips suction around your clit like he’s physically trying to pull your orgasm out of you; your nerve endings firing to full power.

“Chris, I need more...more...so m-much more” you beg, your hips grinding against his face of their own volition. You don’t recall ever being so instantly aroused in your entire life and it’s a little overwhelming.

“What do you need, babygirl? Tell me, tell me allllll about it.” he purrs, replacing his mouth with his fingers, gliding over your flesh easily with the amount of saliva he’s left behind. He ruts into the mattress to grant himself a moments reprieve from the consistent throbbing ache of his cock.

“Need you inside, please. Please fill me up Chris, I feel so empty.” your begging intensifies as your fingers grip the comforter beneath you painfully.

“Well now, we can’t have that.” he pulls himself up to his knees, so he can reach to grab one of the towels to place under you. He smooths his hands over your calves and thighs to prepare you for his touch. “I’ve gotta get rid of this, though. Okay?” he says calmly as reaches and tugs a little more insistently at the fiber string. You firmly bite into your lower lip and nod your agreement before muttering a breathy “Yes.” He pulls earnestly now, removing the product from inside you and flinging it neatly into the trash can by the bed before working the button and zipper to free himself from the clothing prison.

You glance down when you hear the metal teeth of denim closure and your eyes widen in amazement. “How are you that hard?!” His response is little more than a confused pout at first.

“How can you ask me that? I have the girl of my fucking dreams writhing beneath me and begging for my cock. Hell, I’m proud of myself for not cumming in my pants like a horny virgin!” he chuckles as he pulls the rest of his clothing off and tosses it behind him. He pumps his length a few times to spread the generous amount of precum glistening at his tip before taking his place to enter you.

“Wait! Condom!” you grunt, angry at yourself for stopping him, if you’re honest.

“What the fuck do I need that for? Unfortunately, you’re already on birth control; my offer to pause this nonsense for just under a year still stands, by the way.” he smirks.

“No, the mess. C’mon…” your words trail off as you turn your head and try to bury your face in the nearest pillow.

He reaches for your face and tugs your jaw to look at him. “It’s just blood, babygirl. It’s no different than me cleaning you up after a cut or scrape. It’s no different than your sweat or saliva on me when I’m pounding you 6 ways from Sunday.” his voice drops to a deeper whisper as he leans close to your ear, his cock brushing against your throbbing sex. “It’s no different than your tears when you’re choking on my cock.” he punctuates his sentence by adjusting his hips to prod the head of his cock perfectly at your entrance, hands free.

“Fine then just...ohhhhhh” your thoughts are completely derailed as you feel his girth split you open agonizingly slowly until he’s buried to the hilt. You’re already wet enough that there’s very little resistance, but he can feel how inflamed you are because of your cycle. It already breaks his heart enough that he’s had to accept the necessity of forcing his lengthy girth into your tight channel more often than not, albeit gently as possible, due to his size; but doing anything less than a glacial pace while you’re so puffy and sensitive? Unthinkable. It would be physically torturous for you, emotionally and mentally excruciating for him.

“Chris...move please.” you grit out the words through a clenched jaw. Pure euphoria scattering across your body like glitter from the feeling of him so deep inside you.

“G-Gimme a sec” he sputters, the throbbing of his manhood is easily felt even through the inflammation in your walls. He shivers harshly as he pulls out slowly and thrusts back in. Willing himself to ignore the streaks of red along his shaft lest he fills you already. “I’m trying not to blow the top of your head off, from the inside.”

He starts a slow, but steady pace. Gliding his rigid cock in and out effortlessly. Pleasure bloom deep inside you and spreads with every trip he takes inside. “Babygirl, you feel incredible.” he pants, his thrusts increasing in strength causing you to dig your nails into his shoulders. “Yeah, that’s it. Let me know how good it feels.” he moans as he watches you start to fall apart under his ministrations.

Before long, the bed springs are creaking and the headboard is banging into the wall relentlessly; each thrust of his hips numbing the pain from the inside and you feel yourself about to implode.

“I’m almost there baby, harder!” you cry out, wrapping your legs around his ass and holding on for dear life as he pounds into you mercilessly.

“That’s it, come on my cock baby. I’m right there too. I’m gonna fill that pussy up until it can’t hold anymore.” his hips slapping against the backs of your legs echoes through the room as you feel yourself tip over the edge; eyes blinded by white hot orgasmic ruin.

“Fuck!” he shouts before thrusting as deeply as he possibly can, his seed coating your insides like a healing balm; your passion melting the pain away to nothing.

Completely spent, he drops to his elbows, forehead resting against yours. You feel his sweat drip rivers down onto your skin, but you dare not move. You can’t. You’re boneless and floating on a sea of ecstasy. He brings you back to the moment with chaste kisses across your face, punctuated by whispers of love and devotion.

He carefully pulls out of you and reaches back for one of the washcloths, placing it across your center gently before pulling you up to a sitting position. “C’mon baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He pulls you into him and wraps your legs tighter around his hips. He wiggles to the edge of the bed and stands, pulling you with him; his softening cock just enough to keep the washcloth wedged between the two of you so nothing can drip. He walks with you to the bathroom and turns on the shower, never loosening his grip on you, while he holds a hand under the water to test the temperature. Once he deems it acceptable, he steps in, angling so the water hits his back first before gently placing you to stand next to him.

He pulls the cloth from between your legs and rinses it thoroughly before squeezing a generous amount of body wash into the square of material. He soaps you up from head to toe as you stand there, a little wobbly, but definitely relaxed and pain free. Once your senses return, you maneuver to stand under the warm spray to rinse yourself of everything while he concentrates on cleaning himself, before turning off the faucets and stepping out. He darts out of the room, dripping, to grab one of the other clean towels from the bed and begins drying you gently before taking care of himself.

He guides you over to the bed and places the clean towel down for you to sit on, while he moves the soiled ones to the laundry basket and grabs some underwear to hand you. Before you can protest that you at least need a pad, he hurries to the bathroom and grabs one; unwrapping it and placing in perfectly into the gusset of your panties.

“I have a sister and a mom, y’know, this isn't my first rodeo.” he explains at the sight of your curious expression.

He helps you into your underwear and one of his shirts before guiding you back into the bed. He crawls in beside you and pulls you close as you sigh in contentment.

“If I’d have known…” you begin before he cuts you off mid thought.

“You’ll listen to me from now on, won’t you?” he teases, hugging you tightly against him.

“Did you really mean what you said?” you ask carefully.

“About what?”

“About….tasting me?” you can’t even believe that question came out of your mouth, but you gotta know, if for nothing else but morbid curiosity.

“Yes, I did.” he says emphatically before turning you to look at him. “I want all of you, but I’ll never push you into anything or ask you for more than you’re willing to give okay? Just...just know the offer stands if and when you’re okay with it.

You turn back and glance at the digital calendar clock on your nightstand, seeing it’s currently a full moon and you can’t hold back.

“So do you only get this bloodlust around a full moon or?” you nearly bite a hole in your lip trying to suppress a righteous gigglefit.

Chris pressed sweet feather-like kisses all over your collarbones;his breath tickled your skin as he giggled at your tiny whimpers. You should’ve known it would end like this when Chan had texted you ‘wanna come over tonight eheh?’. When you had stepped foot into his room a scene straight out of a romantic movie greeted you, candles and petals were scattered everywhere around the small bedroom. 

“Damn, Christopher you really went all out, uh?” even if your tone was mocking, your heart skipped a beat at the effort he put in.Romantic gestures weren’t normal for Chan, he was the most infamous fuck boy in your whole university after all.

“Anything for you, baby,” he giggled like a child. After that you had settled down to watch a movie, but you knew your friend had other plans in mind. Ever since you had come into his room, he had a fiery look into his eyes; something you had only heard people talk about on campus. Experiencing it though, was another story, you felt intimidated and desired, you wanted to kneel before him and do everything he asked you to, you wanted him to use you until you couldn't think straight. 

Not even five minutes later Chris's lips were on yours and the movie was long forgotten.

His kisses were short and light, and not nearly passionate enough. You felt like you were on fire, both your skin, your pussy, and your brain was short circuiting. You understood why those girls were all begging to sleep with him for just another night.

With your pussy throbbing, your panties soaked through and your head empty, you couldn't help what came out of your mouth.

“Daddy, please, I want more,” you whined. The words hung heavy in the air.

“Channie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-”

Chris pressed your lips together, your apology lost. His hand made his way down your body until he was cupping your heat.

“It's okay baby, I will take care of you. Are my hands enough for you?” His lips still worked on your neck but this time they were sucking a little more harshly, his teeth grazed your skin every now and then.

“No no no no,” you cried out, you wanted to feel him, really feel him. His hands weren't going to cut it.

“Shh, it's okay baby, how about this, huh?” At that, Chan pressed his clothed bulge between your legs and gently rocked his hips up and down, up and down. You could feel the heat radiating off him, pearls of sweat appeared on your forehead. His light silver chain brushed against your hot skin at every roll of his hips, making you gasp at the temperature difference.

“Please, daddy fuck me, I want you, I need you.” A tear fell from the corner of your eye, down the side of your face. Chan cooed and wiped the moisture away.

“I can't resist you when you make that sweet face.” He laid back on his hunches and hurriedly took off your pants and underwear just to do the same for him. When you opened your legs wide for him like a good girl, he sucked in a breath.

“God baby, pussy so pretty just like I remembered.” Chan positioned himself between your legs, his warm hands gripped your thighs and pushed them upwards so they were almost touching your torso.

“Keep them like this, mh baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” Your pussy dripped at how roughly his hands gripped your skin and downright fluttered when, after releasing your legs he pinned your wrist to the bed, above your head. He leaned down after that and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as a thank you for letting him handle you as he wished.

“How do you want it, baby?” His lips tickled yours and you felt like you were going to explode; you wanted him inside and you wanted his lips on yours. Immediately.

“Pound me, Channie, please.” A small pinch to your wrists made you mewl.

“That's not how you call me baby.”

“I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please,” you bubbled incoherently. Streams of words kept escaping your mouth until Chan swiftly pushed all of his length into you, with no warning. A strangled scream resounded in the room, mixed with a low moan from Chan. 

Your best friend wasted no time in fulfilling your wish and started roughly thrusting into you. Your body moved around like a ragdoll, your legs stayed in place and your ankles wrapped around Chan's torso to keep him in place. You never wanted him to stop, the drag of his cock against your walls and of his pelvis on your clit made you see stars. The headboard of his bed smashed against the wall at every thrust, the frame creaked at the movement. You almost pitied the poor guy that roomed next to him, almost. 

Chan started panting and groaning down your neck, the sounds getting more and more strangled with each thrust of his hips. 

“I'm sorry, baby, but you're too warm and soft, I'm gonna cum, I can't hold it,” his voice was shaky and raspy, it was making your pussy tighten and drip down his shaft.

“I don't want you to, Daddy, I want you to cum inside me.” 

“God baby, you're gonna drive me crazy if you say those things,” Chan's hips picked up an even faster and more brutal pace, you swear you could feel him in your stomach. Every sharp hit made your poor neglected clit throb, you wanted him to touch it, you wanted to cum so hard around him he wouldn't be able to pull out, but most importantly you want to feel his hot cum inside you and see it drip out of you.

Like he had heard your thoughts, a second after you felt a hot liquid fill your womb.

Chan stopped his movements and collapsed on top of you.

“Give me 10 minutes baby, then I'm all yours again,” he mumbled against your neck, “you better be ready, I'll make your little pussy cum so many times you'll beg me to stop.”

He slipped out of the way, making space between himself and Jungkook for you to settle between them. The younger boy grinned, wrapping an arm around you in a half greeting, clearly having already indulged in something or other to loosen him up. Then he was back to flirting with the pretty girl beside him, arm falling to half sit on your waist. You disregarded it, knowing how he was when he was intoxicated.

"You said you weren't gonna come," Taehyung said, immediately passing you the half burnt joint he'd been puffing off of. You took a hit before answering, letting the smoke curl in your lungs and re-introducing yourself to that familiar burn before letting it out again.

"Didn't plan on it. But I'm out of weed, and you're here, so it's not like I had anything better to do." You said. You tried to pass back his joint, but he just waved it off, and you took that as permission to keep going. By the time it was gone, you could already feel your body relaxing, your mind slowing down just the way you liked.

"Well, it's a good thing you came. I was gonna be bored if you didn't. Thought I was gonna have to come to your house after this,"

You rolled your eyes.

"Like I'd let you in, high as hell at four in the damn morning." You scolded him. You could feel your body giving out on you, letting you lean slowly towards Jungkook who was so far gone he didn't even notice. But that meant Taehyung was getting further away. Or it should have, but maybe he was shifting with you, moving until your hips were pressed together, until he was slinging your legs over his lap. That was nice.

"You would. You always let me in." He said. If you were sober, maybe you would have been mad that he'd call you out on your absolutely whipped behavior, but you weren't sober, and it was so much harder to stay mad at him when you were high. He just looked so pretty through your hazy eyes, dark curls around his head like a halo, and big brown eyes that you got so lost in.

"Yeah, maybe. But only you." You confessed, a bout of giggles bursting out afterwards. When had he lit up again? You pouted. "I want some,"

He took a hit, holding out his hand. You took it and let him pull you up. Then his face was getting closer to you, and you almost started away, but his hand was behind your head, pressing you closer. His lips slotted over yours. The hand that had been steadying your head came down, stroking his fingertips along your jaw, then thumbing at your bottom lip, guiding your mouth open. You closed your eyes, letting him exhale the smoke past your lips, slowly breathing it in.

When he pulls away, it feels like all the air in your lungs has been sucked out, and you're not sure if it was from him or the smoke. You let it out again, closing your eyes and trying in your fogged up brain to process what just happened. He was touchy when he was high, overly affectionate and maybe even clingy, but you'd never shotgunned before, never been that close to tasting him. It was fucking with your head. But then he was letting you go, and you leaned back against Jungkook again and the moment had passed. You were too high to notice the way his eyes flicked to his best friend, who was too high to think much about the way he was touching you. Jungkook reached around you again, an arm around your waist, slipping against the skin where your shirt had ridden up ever so slightly. The touch made you jolt, eyes opening again before you giggled and relaxed.

Taehyung, however, couldn't relax. Well, not really. No more than the two joints were letting him. He had thought you'd been getting his hints, that you were reciprocating. But there you were, high off of his shit, and cuddled up to his best friend as if he wasn't the one who you spent all your time with. Taehyung wasn't a jealous person, not really, but sometimes it would bubble deep in his stomach, and rise in his throat and make him feel sick. Only sometimes, and always with you. He stood up, not saying a word to anyone as he headed for the house. He didn't really have a plan, maybe grab a drink? Even though he really wasn't a fan of being crossed. It didn't matter, he just needed to get away.

You felt him move beside you, heard the sound of his footsteps walking away. And as if on instinct, driven by something deeper than conscious thought, you flung yourself to your feet, knocking Jungkook's hand away. He looked at you, but he didn't say anything, just went back to his conversation. The first few steps you took felt as if the world was shifting ever so slightly under your feet, but you caught your balance fast.

"Tae," You called out to him, but he didn't look back, so you called him again. "Taehyung, wait a second."

He didn't. He was a good few strides ahead of you, being swallowed up by the crowd. You huffed, pressing back into the overheated, crushing crowd of bodies in search for him. He never left you like that, especially not at parties. He knew you hated them. Knew you only ever came for him in the first place.

The music was making your brain vibrate in your head, and you had to blink a few times to register the faces in front of you, but before you knew it, there was Yoongi, still looking sober and bored and leaned up against the wall.

"Hey, did you see Tae?" You asked, reaching out for his arm. He wordlessly pointed towards the stairs, and your questions were answered. You thanked him, or at least you thought it, and then you were hauling yourself up the stairs.

It was quieter upstairs. Most people moved towards the basement instead of the upper levels, leaving the personal rooms alone. Only your friend group tended to come up here during the parties. You knocked on Hobi's bedroom door, then opened it to find it empty. The bathroom door was wide open, and empty, so you moved on to the guest room. You knocked, but again there was no answer. You tried the door handle. Locked.

"Taehyung," You whined, knocking on the door again. You could hear the shuffle of the bedding. "Open the door. I don't wanna stand up anymore."

You could see his shadow under the door as he came over, then the lock clicked and it swung open. He had the cutest pout on his face, and you were overwhelmed by the longing to kiss it away. You gathered up all of the self control that you had to not do that.

You didn't speak, just used the weight of your body to nudge him out of the way, pressing your entire self against him until he gave way and you both stumbled in the door with a burst of stifled giggling. You flopped back onto the bed and waited for him to sit down beside you.

"Why did you run away?" You asked, closing your eyes. He didn't answer right away, just traced his fingers against the skin of your forearm. You let him, let each movement sink beneath your skin and join the quiet hum that your body always seemed to let off when he touched you.

"You were with Jungkook. Gave you space," He answered. You opened your eyes, giving him a confused glance.

"I came for you. I always do." You told him. It wasn't like he didn't know that. He must have known the power he held over you, the power he'd held for so long that you couldn't even remember when it started. No, your Taehyung wasn't stupid.

There was another long pause as he laid down beside you, arm slinging heavy over your waist and pulling you closer to him. You turned your head, your noses brushing and his big brown eyes trained on your face. You couldn't breathe then, and you weren't sure if that was the proximity or the way the weed was weighing down your entire body.

"I don't like when other people touch you," He said, shifting so he could prop himself up on his elbow, his face hovering over yours. You watched his gaze drop to your lips, then climb back up to your eyes. "And you were just letting him. Should have been me. Always should be me,"

You couldn't fight off the impulses any longer, your self control slipping through your numbed fingertips, and then you were pulling him down to kiss him. His lips were softer than you imagined, and you could taste the warmth of him under the heady layer of smoke on his tongue. He kissed you back as if it were the last thing he'd ever do. His hand gripped at your waist, pressing you closer to him as he devoured your mouth. It was hungry, but lazy, slow licks and presses of his lips and the occasional suck against your tongue or your lip until you had to pull away. Your mind was fogged up, and you felt dizzy as you tipped your head back against the pillows.

Taehyung couldn't seem to leave his mouth idle, leaning down to suck a mark into the sensitive spot under your jaw. Then he was just kissing your skin, tongue gliding against the skin and swallowing down the closeness you were sharing. His hand didn't move, anchoring you to him and keeping the both of you grounded in the moment.

"Tae," You whined, guiding his mouth back up to yours and he was happy to give you more. You moved your hands down, pushing and tugging at his shirt enough to move it up his stomach, then your hands roamed beneath it, tracing the planes of his stomach, up his chest. He hissed when your fingertips carved slow circles around his nipples.

"Sensitive," He muttered against your lips, and you hummed your acknowledgement, teasing them anyway and soaking up the low hums and moans he let out. It didn't last as long as you wanted, especially considering that feeling the way his body reacted to you was something you'd be more than happy to spend days doing. He sat up, pulling his shirt over his head and then helping you take yours off in turn. His stared at you, eyes dark and heavy as he admired you. Then he was taking your bra off, then stripping your bottom half. Despite the desperation that was so evident in his actions, every move was slow, unhurried, until you were bare underneath him.

His lips spread slow and steady into a grin, and you laughed, the sweetest sound to his ears.

"Can I touch you now?" He asked. You nodded, guiding his large hands back to your skin and letting him explore. He ran them up your stomach, then down to your hips, kneading at your thighs and pushing them open to expose your core to him. He groaned, a look of pure disbelief taking over his face for a moment before he was touching you. There was very little wind up, but he took his time once his fingers brushed against your already glistening folds.

He stroked up and down your pussy, letting his thumb press between your lips to gather more of your arousal. He dragged it over your clit, reveling in the broken sounds you made, in the way your hips pressed closer without even realizing it. He rubbed slow, steady circles on it. Not nearly fast enough, but not slow enough to stop the steadily building need.

"Taehyung," You gasped out, lost in the feeling of him familiarizing himself with your body.

"Say it again," He said, voice lower than you'd heard it and zapping through you like a shockwave. "Say my name again."

"Taehyung," You whined again, this time pressing your hips harder into his touch, rocking against his fingers and moaning at the feeling. Taehyung gave you exactly what you wanted, pinning your hips down and rubbing your clit harsher.

"Again,"

"Taehyung," This time it was a full bodied moan, louder than you really realized, not that you cared. He grinned, shifting so he was laying between your thighs.

"Gonna make you scream my name, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good, promise."

He kissed at your thighs, mouth dragging up one, then down the other while his fingers continued to build you up. You melted into the bed, year hand curling into his hair and giving it the slightest tug. He grunted softly, nipping at the skin of your thigh and then dragging his tongue over it to soothe the sting.

Then his hand was gone, and you almost had enough time to process the loss before his mouth clamped over your pussy, tongue flicking over your clit. You gasped, back arching off the bed before pressing back to roll your hips against his warm mouth.

You hadn't expected this, but you probably should have. It wasn't like you'd never sat through one too many rants from Taehyung about how eating pussy was a dying art, and he was more than happy to single handedly rekindle it. But you had underestimated his skill, the way he found the most sensitive spots to poke, and prod, and suck at. You were dripping, though you couldn't tell if it was from his spit or your own arousal, probably a decent amount of both given the way he was diving into you.

His tongue dipped into your eager hole, his nose bumping against your clit. You wailed, voice too loud and echoing in the room around you, but it didn't matter when all it did was spur him on. Your fingers tugged at his hair, hips grinding into his mouth until you were practically grinding on his face, but he didn't make any move to stop you. He let you use him, let his tongue fuck into your desperate hole, slurping and moaning against you in the filthiest show of desire you'd ever seen.

"Taehyung," You gasped out again, trying to warn him, but he didn't seem to hear, or maybe he didn't care, and your body and mind felt too heavy to try over again so you let your orgasm wash over you, a cry of his name filling the room as your thighs twitched shut around his head. He kept going anyway, palms pressing on the insides of your knees and tongue working your clit in fast, sharp circles. You couldn't tell if your orgasm lasted forever, or if he was able to spiral you into another one in an instant.

His fingers joined the mix, sliding into your pussy to feel the way your walls pulsed and clenched around him, and his entire being was taken over by the taste of you on his tongue, so warm and sweet and driven home by the scent that was surrounding him.

"I can't," You sobbed out, hips wriggling away from him, but he pulled you back to his face. His tongue was slower now, more languid as he cleaned your juices from your core, easy and deliberate and not seeking your pleasure anymore, but seeking just a little more of your taste overwhelming everything else in him. Even still, with the oversensitivity, and the intoxicated, fuzzy state you were still in, it was enough to push you under the waves again. This orgasm was significantly gentler, but it left you dripping and trembling in his hold until he finally sat up.

You blinked at him, trying to see through the film that felt like it had been pulled over your vision. His hair was a mess, his already plump lips swollen from the work they'd put in and glistening with your essence. He smiled, smug and so very satisfied as he crawled up your body to press his lips to yours once, twice, then a third, much longer time. Your hand cupped his cheek, noting how he was still covered in you, until finally he pulled away. He laid down at your side, wiping his face on his arm and then tugging you against him.

"Don't leave me for someone else," He muttered, nose brushing against your neck and breath tickling your skin. You giggled, and then he giggled, and then you were dead serious again.

"I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to. I'm all yours, Tae. For good."

You and Minho were quiet as you walked toward the front gate of the Commander’s estate.  Your stomach was in knots.  Would he like you?  How long would you last?  Is he kind?  As you look at the estate on the other side of the gate, it was beautiful.  It wasn’t as large as the home you grew up in.  That didn’t matter though.  Something about the traditional architecture and the land surrounding your new home felt grand yet warm and comforting all at the same time.  You turned to Minho with sad eyes.

“You’ll be okay,” Minho reassured her, patting your head, “You’ll have a better time here than at home.”

“Take care of dad for me,” you requested looking down at your feet.  You felt an overwhelming guilt for leaving like this.

“You must be the new lady of the house,” an older woman asked approaching the two of you, “my name is Euhna.  I’m the maid of the Park estate.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.  Please follow me.  I’ll show you your new room.”

You turned one last time to your brother.  “Just be good.  I’ll try to visit soon.”

As you walked with the maid to her new quarters, you passed by the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.  You were mesmerized.  Not just by his face, but the energy around him.  He was magnetic, calm and there was this weird feeling inside your chest that you couldn’t explain.  “Euhna,” the man interrupted sternly.

“Apologies, Lord Park,” the maid apologized, turning to the young man, “this is your fiance.”

You bowed.  “It’s very nice to meet you,” you whispered, not looking up at him.

“You don’t have to stay there all day.”

All the color drained from your face.  You promised Minho that you’d be a good wife.  And here you were messing up within minutes of meeting your future husband.  

“I’m sorry,” you replied, standing up, but still not looking at him.  You braised yourself for the pain that would come.  But it never came.  He just simply said, “as long as you are here you listen to me.  I tell you to do something, you do it.  I don’t want to hear anything about it.”

“Yes Lord Park,” you said bowing quickly.  Eunha led the way to your new room as Seonghwa stood there.  He had not expected you to be like that.  There were so many things he couldn’t explain.

As Eunha led you to your room, you looked around your new home.  Everything seemed quiet.  Not an isolated quiet, but something peaceful.  Yet, the peaceful calm of this house did nothing to settle your nerves.

“This is your new room.  I hope it’s to your liking.  It’s not very large as I assume your room was,” she apologized as she opened the door to your new room.  Your jaw dropped.  It was the most beautiful play you had ever seen.

“No,” you said, setting your small bag of your belongings down on the floor, “It’s perfect.  I love it.”

“Oh dear.  Your makeup is caking.  Let me help you fix it.  We might have to…”

“I’m fine,” you bluntly interrupted.

And that moment, her suspicions were confirmed.  You were hiding.  She had a hunch from the beginning from what your brother said.  To the thick layers of makeup.  To the nervous energy you’d had since you arrived at the estate.

“No, you aren’t.  If you’re scared or hiding something, I won’t judge.  You have nothing to be afraid of dear.  We all have scars.  And we don’t want people to treat us differently.  Now, let’s get you cleaned up for the day.”

Eunha started to open a makeup cleaner bottle before you started to cry.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, tears welling in your eyes.

“No need to apologize for anything.  I understand where you’re coming from,” Eunha explained as she fixed your foundation, “I had a father who used to hurt me too.  I’d dream about a day when I’d leave and find someone who’d love me the way they do in stories.”

“Did you ever find him,” you asked quietly.  You were hoping she’d ease your mind a little.  If she’d be able to leave and get a happy ending, maybe you could too.

“Yes and no.  I never married.  I didn’t feel safe around any man at the time.  Eventually, I just left and accepted my fate.  But then I met Lord Park.  He had put out an ad for someone to take care of his estate while he was away.  I was skeptical at first, much like you are.  But, behind the cold exterior, he has a warm heart.  I might not have found love, but I’m happy.  Have faith.  He’ll be a good husband to you.”

You didn’t say anything.  You decided to trust the process.  He was one of your brother’s closest friends after all.  Yes, he looked scary and seemed to not care at all when you came.  But, that didn’t mean he was a bad person.  He was just a little reserved or so you hoped.

Seonghwa sat reading in his room.  He had held off from seeing his fiance again until mealtime.  The journey was long and you deserved some rest and to put her things away.  Though he found it weird that you had almost nothing with you.  You were a daughter from a well known family.  That must have been a mistake.  As the time passed, he was getting concerned as he still heard nothing from anyone. Then he heard a knocking on his door. “Lord Park, may I have a minute?”

“Euhna, please come in.”

The head maid entered the room with a somber face.  “I’m sorry to be rude,” she began, “but do you know anything about your fiance?”

“She’s Vice Commander Lee’s sister.  Is there a problem with her treatment of you?”

“Oh no, Lord!  She’s a sweet girl.  But, she has signs of abuse.  Like someone’s been beating her for years.  She’s extremely thin too.  Did the Vice Commander mention anything?”

“He did not!  Let me see her!”  

Seonghwa could see red.  He was lied to.  Why didn’t Minho tell him anything?  What was this thing they were trying to pull?  He immediately got up from his seat and headed towards your room.  He couldn’t believe this.  He couldn’t think clearly as his footsteps pounded throughout the halls.  When he reached your door, he pulled it open hard, almost destroying it in the process.

“Lord Park, you can’t…” Eunha yelled, but it was too late.

He grabbed you harshly, not on purpose however.  He was just so angry at his friend and at your father for ever touching you that he let his emotions get the best of him.  But he didn’t realize until he heard your sniffles.  “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, breaking free from his grip and moving further away from him, “I’m nothing but a waste of space.  Please…don’t hurt me.”

Seonghwa went stiff.  He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.  He didn’t know what this feeling was. He wipes away your tears, revealing more bruises and scars.  These could be healed with time, but he didn’t know how to heal the emotional ones.  He pulls you closer to his chest, “you don’t have anything to fear anymore.  As long as I’m here, nothing will hurt you ever again.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, crying into his chest.  You felt calmer.  The fear that you’d felt all your life was starting to disappear, but you didn’t want to let your guard down yet.  You barely knew him.  Yes, you’d heard Minho’s stories about the great Seonghwa, but until today he’d only been a story.  A character in a story (how ironic since this is a story…nevermind back to the actual story).  

“You don’t need to apologize for anything.  Not anymore,” he said quietly.  He turned to Eunha, “please bring our dinner here tonight.”

Dinner felt a little weird.  You couldn’t even look at him.  You weren’t sure what he was thinking, if you were going to be kicked out, etc.  “Is everything okay,” Seonghwa questioned.  You snapped out of your thoughts.

“I’m fine,” you lied, refusing to make any eye contact, “just not hungry.”

“Not hungry or overthinking?”

Damn, he found you out.  You didn’t want to admit to him how you felt about everything.  Talk about what happened a few minutes ago.

“I don’t know if you want me here at all.  I’m not a refined lady.  I can’t do any of that stuff,” you mumbled sadly.

“It’s not about being or doing anything.  Things like that can be learned.  What matters is that you try.  What did you do back when you lived at home?”

As he said this, you couldn’t figure out what he meant.  If he was just saying words to make you feel better.  His eyes were blank.  They didn’t show anything hostile, but nothing overly loving either.  Maybe one day, you’d see something more than nothing in his eyes.  So, you started talking about the past and your time with Minho.  How he’d bring you home little wooden animals and trinkets because you enjoyed cute things.   Though he wondered why you had almost nothing with you when you arrived at the house.  You also rambled on about how you’d do all of the cooking and make packed lunches for not only your brother, but something to send home with all the maids at your home.  But there was one thing, he knew there was something sad lying beneath.  The bruises were one sign, but the way your smile seemed somewhat forced sold it for him.  Seonghwa knew he had to figure this out if he wanted you to have a happier life and a happy marriage with him.

Seonghwa hadn’t slept that night.  His thoughts had been racing with questions that he needed answers to.  Nothing was adding up.  Something about this marriage was fishy.  It was hard for him to focus on anything that morning.  Paper work laid on his desk, but he couldn’t tell you what it said.  All he could focus on were his thoughts and the loud footsteps from his door.  He looked up for a second and he saw it.  The person who had all the answers.

“Vice Commander Lee.  May I have a word?”

Minho looked over to his long time friend wide eyed.  He had a bad feeling about this.  Now his commander was always grumpy.  But he knew with the whole marriage thing that this wasn’t to tell him that he was in love and thankful, this was something bad.  “Commander,” he asked hesitantly as he looked at everything inside the office, except Seonghwa.

“I need to know everything about your sister,” you commanded, crossing his arms,”because I have a lot of questions.  And I am not in the mood for lies.”

“Technically I didn’t lie,” Minho replied, rubbing the back of his neck,  “I just didn’t tell you everything.”

“I’m going to kill you unless you tell me.”  Minho was starting to sweat even though these death threats weren’t unusual for him to receive.  He really shouldn’t have made jokes at a time like this.  But, he was also telling the truth technically.  

Minho took a deep breath, “My sister and I are twins.  And we all know what they say about twins.  My dad wanted to kill my sister that day, but my mom refused to let him.  So, my dad kept her hidden because she was an abomination to him.  She ended up spending most of her time with the maids doing chores. He would just beat her and mistreat her for everything that went wrong.  My mom tried everything to stop him… then she died. I took over trying to keep her safe.  I’ve been trying to get her out of there since she’s been of marriage age.  But everyone I tried to introduce her to kept treating her wrong.  I needed someone I could trust to treat her well and love her.  And that was you.  The favor was just a good way to get you to agree.”

Seonghwa sat silently, staring at his hands.  He didn’t know love.  He was raised to be a soldier.  But now, he had someone who needed that.  Who needed to know that you were someone worthy of love.  But could he do it?  He wanted to, for your sake.  If he couldn’t give you that, he’d at least let you know that she deserves better.

“I can’t promise to love her.  But I will treat her well,” he promised.

Seonghwa was happy for the day to end.  The weight of Minho’s confession felt heavy on his chest.  He wasn’t sure how he was gonna be able to help you in any way.  As he opened the door, he was met with you  who was on the way to meet him at the front gate.  “Oh, Lord Park,” you said shocked, bowing, “how was work?”

He was startled to see you at first.  He felt like everything weighing him down was starting to disappear.  He didn’t know a person could do that to him.  He didn’t know that could happen in general.

“It was long,” he explained, removing his boots, “but I feel better being at home with you again, Love.”

The two turned bright red.  That came out of nowhere.  But it felt right in a weird, yet awkward way.  Neither of you could look each other in the eye for the rest of the afternoon and don’t even get started on how awkward dinner was.

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