Angel

You are married to a man the whole kingdom reveres.

They call him brave. Unyielding. A sword that never dulls, a shield that never breaks. 

His name carries weight in the royal court, in the barracks, in whispered stories told by lantern light.

General Choi San.

Your husband.

But to you, he is a man who rarely comes home.

The first time you see him, he is not yet a legend.

Just a young soldier standing in your family courtyard, dust clinging to his robes, eyes sharp but uncertain. He bows too stiffly when your father speaks, hands clenched at his sides like he’s holding himself together.

You remember thinking.

He looked lonely.

The marriage is arranged quickly.

Efficiently.

Without love.

You are told he is honorable. Loyal. 

A man who will rise high.

A good husband.

And he is.

In all the ways that can be measured.

He provides. He protects.

He never raises his voice at you, never speaks cruelly.

But he is… distant.

Like a mountain you can see, but never touch.

On your wedding night, he sits across from you, still in his formal robes.

The candlelight flickers between you.

“I will not mistreat you,” he says.

His voice is steady. Practiced.

“I will fulfill my duties as your husband.”

You nod.

Because that is what wives are meant to accept.

Duty.

Not love.

But still, you had hoped.

Just a little.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

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Years pass.

And San becomes exactly what everyone said he would.

A general.

War calls him away more often than not.

The palace summons him at dawn, at dusk, at hours when the sky itself feels uncertain.

You learn not to ask when he will return.

Because the answer is always the same.

“I do not know.”

At first, you wait for him.

You sit by the door long after the lanterns burn low, listening for footsteps that never come.

You keep his meals warm.

You prepare tea that goes cold.

When he does return, it is always quiet.

The door slides open. Boots step inside.

And there he is—

your husband.

You greet him with a small smile.

“You’re home.”

He nods.

“I am.”

And that is all.

No embrace. No warmth.

Just… presence.

Still, you try.

“Did you eat?” you ask one evening, carefully placing dishes before him.

“I ate with my men,” he replies.

A lie.

You can see it in the way his chopsticks hesitate, in how quickly he finishes everything you’ve made.

But you don’t call him out. You simply refill his bowl.

Because loving him means learning the language he does not speak.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

When your son is born, something in you shifts.

Hope blooms again, fragile but persistent.

San stands beside you, holding the child awkwardly in his arms.

He looks… unsure.

Like he’s afraid he might break something so small.

“It is a boy,” you whisper, smiling weakly.

He nods.

“A strong one.”

You wait.

For more. For something softer.

Something that belongs to you, not the battlefield.

But it doesn’t come.

Though you see the way he lingers just a moment longer before handing the baby back.

The way his gaze follows the child as you cradle him.

It’s small.

But it’s there.

So you hold onto it.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Your son grows quickly.

Too quickly.

“Appa!”

The child runs through the courtyard, laughter ringing through the air.

San has returned early—rare, unexpected—and for once, the house feels alive.

Your son throws himself at him.

And for a moment, San freezes.

Then, slowly, he kneels.

Awkwardly placing a hand on the boy’s head.

“You have grown,” he says.

It’s not what the child wanted.

Not what you hoped for.

But your son beams anyway.

Because children don’t yet understand the weight of what is missing.

You watch them from the doorway.

Heart aching.

“He drew something for you,” you say gently later, handing San a piece of parchment.

Crude lines. Uneven ink.

A family of three.

San looks at it.

Really looks.

“It is good,” he says.

But he sets it aside.

Later.

Always later.

You stop waiting by the door eventually.

Not because you don’t care.

But because it hurts less when you don’t expect anything.

But you still leave a lantern lit.

Every night.

Just in case.

One evening, you gather the courage to speak.

“I waited,” you say softly, fingers tightening around your sleeve.

San doesn’t look up from removing his armor.

“I told you not to.”

The words land harder than he intends.

You know that. You always know that.

But it doesn’t make them hurt any less.

“I only wished to share a meal,” you reply, voice barely above a whisper.

Silence stretches between you.

“I am tired,” he says finally.

And that is the end of it.

You bow your head.

Because you have learned— love, for him, is something unspoken.

Something buried beneath duty.

Something that never quite reaches the surface.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Years pass like this.

Quiet. Lonely. Endless.

Until the day everything breaks.

Your son falls ill.

It starts small.

A fever. A cough.

Nothing alarming.

But it worsens. Quickly. Relentlessly.

You send word to San.

Again.

And again.

But the kingdom needs him.

The war does not wait.

“I tried calling for you…”

Your voice trembles when he finally arrives.

Too late.

He stands in the doorway, breath uneven, armor still on.

“I was in a important meeting,” he says.

You nod.

Of course he was.

“He kept asking for you,” you whisper.

San’s expression cracks.

Just slightly.

But it is enough.

He rushes to the bedside.

Takes the small, fragile hand in his own.

“I am here,” he says.

And the first time, his voice breaks.

But your son does not respond.

The silence is unbearable.

San falls to his knees.

And suddenly—

all the words he never said come pouring out.

“I should have come sooner.” “I am sorry.”

“I love you.”

Too late. All of it.

You sit beside him. Tears falling quietly.

You don’t blame him.

You never have.

But something inside you—finally—gives way.

After that, the house becomes unbearably empty.

San is there more often.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because the one who waited for him the most is gone.

One night, you find him sitting alone.

Holding that old drawing.

The one he said was “good.”

His hands are shaking.

“I did not know how,” he says.

To no one.

To you.

To himself.

“How to love without losing everything else.”

You sit beside him.

Quiet.

“You did not have to choose,” you whisper.

But he did. He always did.

Duty over love.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until there was nothing left to choose.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Years later, when illness takes you too—

San stays by your side.

He does not leave.

Not once.

He holds your hand.

Like he should have done all those years ago.

“I will stay,” he says.

You smile faintly.

“You always did,” you whisper.

“Just… not in the ways I needed.”

His grip tightens.

“I loved you,” he says, voice breaking.

You nod.

“I know.”

And that is what makes it hurt the most.

Because love was never the problem.

Only the silence of it.

The absence.

The later.

And when you close your eyes for the last time, San is still there.

But this time, he understands.

That love, unspoken, is love that fades.

Love that leaves.

Love that becomes regret.

And regret—

is the heaviest thing a man can carry.

Even heavier than war.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

© lcvejjoong, 2026

“As you can see, my fingers are still healing,” Mingi sighed, raising his hand to show his best friend as if the man didn't know already.

Yunho's brows knitted in confusion, tilting his head to the side. “Yeah man…I know.”

“Right,” your boyfriend smirked, stealing a glance at your flustered face. “So do me a favour and fuck my girl open on your fingers.”

Yunho blinked. Jaws tensed. “I'm not in the mood for a joke, Mingi. The fuck are you sayin?” As if his pants weren't getting tighter by the second just at the thought.

Mingi rolled his eyes, spreading his legs wider on his work chair. “You aren't fooling anyone, Yunho. We all know how you look at my girl,” your lover smirked, a sick sense of pride blooming in his chest.

“The way your eyes linger on her thighs whenever she wears her tatty bitty skirts,” he pointed out. “Or when your hands linger a minute too long on her skin during movie nights.”

Yunho's breath hitches. He really had hoped to keep his longing for you in check. But apparently, he was not being as careful as he thought he was. He really hoped his best friend didn't catch him the time he went to jerk off in the company washroom after you showed up to their practice after your workout, body glistening with sweat, a flustered look on your face.

He had fucked his fist imaging it was you kneeling before him, sweat and tears mixing with his cum on your pretty face.

The man was brought back to reality when he felt your hands on his thighs, doe eyes staring at him hopefully. “Please, yuyu?” he almost creamed his pants.

Mingi laughed heartily, smacking your ass. “See? Even my angel is asking so prettily. Don't you dare make her sad.”

Yunho's big hands cupped your face, voice raspy. “Whatever this sweet angel wants,” he groaned, lifting you up and planting you down on his thighs facing your boyfriend. “Sweet angel gets,” hands already benching up your pink skirt around your thighs, cotton panties on show for the two men.

“You won't join?” He asked Mingi, half-wishing he said no. He wanted this, needed this for so long.

Mingi shook his head, hands resting on his increasingly growing bulge. “Nah man. Just here to enjoy the show,” he smirked. “Don't mind me. Fuck my bunny dumb, alright? I'm counting on you man,” he teased.

Yunho smirked, pulling your panties down to your ankles. “Don't worry. I will.” That was a promise and he is a man of his words.

Dipping his fingers in, he sucked in a sharp breath, your scent making his head dizzy. “Dripping already? Such a slutty bunny.”

You whined, bucking your hips into his hand, toes curling. “Yuyu, please,” you pouted, looking at your boyfriend, sharp eyes memorizing every movement.

“Yes, baby,” he praised, stroking his cock lazily. “Tell yuyu what you want.”

Nodding with obedience, you turn to Yunho, opening your mouth only to shut it again as Yunho steals your lips in a hungry kiss, fingers circling your clit gingerly.

“So sweet, fuck,” he groaned, hard cock probing your ass. “Does she taste this sweet too? I bet she does.” He spoke mostly to himself, the fact that his best friend, whose girl he was currently fucking with his deft fingers was sitting in front of them, biting down on his lips as he stroke his length.

“A hundred times sweeter,” Mingi answered slowly. “She tastes like heaven. “

Groaning, Yunho sunk his finger in your fluttering hole, thumb slowly circling your clit. Continuing his assault on your neck, he added a second finger, curling them inside you in a “come hither” motion that makes you arch your back, pushing your breasts onto your boyfriend's face.

Grinning widely, Mingi pulled your nipples making you squeal. “Slutting yourself out to other men while your boyfriend watches,” he smiled, taking the bud between his teeth. “Fucking whore.”

Tears rolled down your face, Yunho smiled against your skin, his fingers stretching you open.

Thrusting his fingers deeper, he dropped his legs over yours to keep them from closing. “Take all of it, angel. All of it.”

Circling your clit faster, he watched Mingi copy his pace, fucking his fist like his life depended on it.

“G-gonna cum!” You cried out, sobbing.

Yunho bit your ear, licking the skin. “Come for me angel.”

As if on command, your body let go, the pleasure washing over you like waves as you spilled all around his fingers. Mingi also came with you, white ropes of cum spluttering on your pussy painting your core and Yunho's hands in white.

“We better have this dog fuck you next time, bunny,” Mingi laughed after he composed himself, giving some tissues to his fired as the two carefully cleaned you up.

Yunho really fucking hoped you do let him fuck you. Very quick too.

｡𖦹°‧𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⊹⭒ @kisssan @4erzschyyy @silenttrxxs @zayn-210 @mae-murdock @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

© lillys-bakery, 2026 𖹭

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Your vision is blurry. Your head aches something awful. A knot of dread is in your stomach, though your head can't place why.

Your bones feel like they weigh a million tons as you raise your hands to your eyes to block the soft light that shines above you.

"Baby?" Your neighbors voice sounds muffled, like he's being projected through an antique radio.

"Hongjoong?" All you can do is groan weakly as his shadow casts over you, his head blocking the light as he towers over you. Your arms fall, allowed relief for the shortest second because then you realize — you're naked.

Laid out for his prying eyes on a mattress on the floor, a single white blanket below you. Naked. Except, of course, a leather cuff on your ankle. Impossible to remove thanks to the smallest pad lock you've ever seen.

A rope is attached. Your eyes follow it. Your breath stuck in your lungs, your mind begging for you to move. To do anything. But your body refuses, even as you see the rope tied to a bolted down bar in the cement floor.

"What year is it, Baby?"

Your eyebrows scrunch with confusion, a mumbled answer from your dry lips. Your tongue comes out to wet them as your legs fidget restlessly. Filled with anxiety — but not truly feeling any of it. Not feeling anything except the pressure on your skull.

"What's your name?" Another confusing question, but you answer nonetheless. "Good. You're coherent enough now to hear the rules."

He's sat on the edge of the mattress, stroking patterns on your limp arm as he speaks.

He speaks, and you do the only thing your body allows you to do. Listen.

You can't move. Can't muster up a scream. Hardly able to whimper in fear as the words he utters soak into your brain.

"You're going to call me Daddy from now on."

Daddy has a lot of rules for you.

Call him something other than that, and he's going to wash your mouth out with soap. Cursing will get you the same thing. Mumbling, too. Back talk. Screaming gets you slapped across the face before you're over the sink and spitting out bubbles.

Hitting him gets you over his lap with your bare ass being spanked until he decides you're sorry. If you're a repeat offender with that? Flat face down on the bed while he takes a belt to you. Not your ass — you. All of you, he says.

Trying to undo the cuff around your ankle only makes it tighter and the rope shorter. Manage to get it off but don't get all the way upstairs, out the front door, and to the nearest police station? He'll break your leg.

That last one gets your tears free falling down your face, eyes screwed shut tightly and chin wobbling.

He only pets your head, soft strokes as he continues like nothing is amiss.

Be grateful. He elaborates, tells you he expects manners. Please and thank you, and eat what he provides for you without complaining.

Don't tell Daddy 'no' if he asks for something. No matter how much you don't want to do it.

"Give Daddy a kiss," he hums, putting the rules into practice immediately; pointing to his cheek.

You don't technically say no. Sobbing so hard that you can hardly breathe, let alone speak. You only shake your head, a small and nervous movement.

Then your head whips to the side. A shaky, sorrowful intake of air from your trembling lips. A harsh sting spreads on your cheek from where he'd struck you.

His face is blurry from your tears as he turns you to face him again. "The more you say no, the worse they'll get. Do you understand?"

With a sniffle, you manage to nod your heavy and pounding head.

"Give Daddy a kiss," he says again, tapping his cheek and leaning closer to you. So you put your lips on his cheek and earn yourself a small smile before he's back to overwhelming your brain.

You start with the basics. The necessities. Which he deems to be: your single sheet and pillow, access to the toilet and sink — but not the tub — on your own, three meals a day, and a pitcher of water he'll keep full for you.

Good behavior can get you more and more if you just, "show Daddy what a good girl you can be."

He stares down at you for a moment before standing. "Be a good girl." He says, stern and even as he leaves, climbing up the stairs on the far side of the room without a single glance given back to your sobbing and shivering form.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Whatever drugs he'd forced into your system have worn off enough to allow you to move by the time he returns.

With a great deal of effort, however. It took you what felt like hours to wrap your naked self up in the blanket after your hysteric cries died down.

He comes down the stairs with a small tote box in his hands, a plate of food on top of it. "Come out from the blanket." He sets the plate down on the floor and the tote next to it, opening it up as you weigh your options.

With the skin of your cheek sore and heated from his hit hours ago, you slowly sit up and drop the blanket from your shoulders. You don't dare look at him, but you feel his eyes on your chest for a moment before a tank top lands in your lap.

Your first reward. You pull it on quickly, covering yourself as your tears well up again.

"Eat up," he hands you the plate after you drag your drug heavy body to the edge of the mattress.

You eat the food, because no matter how afraid you are that he's put something in it, you're beyond hungry from whatever he'd given you before. He sits across from you quietly, observing you as you chew and cry and chew and cry, like it's all you know how to do.

It's gone all too quick to you, but it really took you a good while to lift the fork back and forth to your mouth. He takes it from your shaky hands and sits it to the side. "Are you forgetting something, baby?"

He doesn't push. He can see the cogs turning behind your bleary eyes.

"Thank- thank you."

He smiles, a small tug on the corners of his lips, digging into the tote and offering you a large sweater which you put on so fast that you fail to realize the design on the front of it.

A heart, and the words that will come to haunt you; "my heart belongs to daddy".

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

After he left, the light turned off.

Pure, pitch black. And nothing else besides your raging emotions.

Your screams and cries from throughout the night have your eyes sore and throat raw when the light flicks on and wakes you up.

"Rise and shine, pretty girl."

You don't move. Stare at the wall while curled up on your side.

"Rise and shine." He says again. Less like a greeting and more like a command.

Still no movement from you however, so he sets down the plate on top of the tote he'd brought back down and kicks the corner of the mattress. "Get up now. This is your final chance."

"Go to hell." You mumble, tired. Mentally and physically. Exhausted.

"What?"

His voice makes your heart drop to your stomach. Dread spreading like a wildfire. He doesn't give you the chance to stew in it, however. Doesn't even give you time to fully register your fatal mistake.

He's tore the blanket away from you and manhandled you all the way to the bathroom before you even have the chance to apologize — to beg.

Whether or not you really remember what happens next is truly up for debate. You remember the disappointment in his tone, the taste of the soap he'd shoved into your mouth with his fingers, the suds that seemed to be endless as he held your head by the running faucet.

The drag of the rope on the floor feels as heavy as your head does when the ordeal is over with, falling to the floor as he finally backs up from pining you to the sink.

You back yourself into the wall, sobbing and hugging your knees to yourself. Something is clearly very, very wrong with Hongjoong. And it's very, very, abundantly clear that all of his threats weren't empty words. They were promises.

He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair as he kneels down. "What did I tell you? Hm? What was the rule you just broke?"

"I don't- I don't know, I don't know." Your brain is scrambled, too many thoughts and not enough at the very same time.

Your clear distress, your confusion — it makes Hongjoong's heart feel warm and pleased. He decides to have a sliver of mercy for you.

Shushing softly, he opens his arms, "shh, come here, baby." You force your eyes on his, weary. "Come to Daddy."

You're in his arms before you know up from down, cradled to his chest on the cold basement floor as you sob.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The food tastes like soap as you eat. It's cold by now, but he says next time if you get up when he says it will be nice and warm.

You watch him in your peripherals as you eat slowly, forcing yourself to take your time. He takes a stack of paper and a box of crayons from the tote before sitting across from you, the supplies between you.

He beckons you forward when you finish your plate. "Write your rules." He goes on, "make it cute. We're going to hang them on your wall."

You do your best, with him watching you like a hawk and tears blurring your vision every so often and your heart pounding like it wants to run away.

All with his guidance: you write 'only 'Daddy' ' in pastel pink, 'no cursing. no screaming. no mumbling' in baby blue, 'no hitting' in green, 'yes, Daddy. please, Daddy. thank you, Daddy' all in an array of orange and yellow, 'no' is scribbled down and crossed out when you can't think of a better way to put it, 'stay put' and 'be nice to Daddy' are his words, not yours.

"A little plain," he hums with clear distaste while looking through them. "we'll work on that, Baby."

The rules are taped next to your bed before he leaves with the plate, the box, the crayons — everything.

And you're left with nothing but your thoughts and the taste of soap in your mouth as you stare at the plain concrete walls; only decorated with the rules that you have no say in.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

He doesn't return for some hours, and when he does, he comes with dinner in tow.

You eat. You thank him. He gifts you a pair of pajama shorts and unlocks your cuff for just long enough for you to pull them on.

He only sits and stares at you for a while before checking the cuff on your ankle, giving it a tug before gathering the dish and the tote. "Don't scream tonight." Is all he says before he's up the stairs.

The door at the top closes, and a few moments later you're left in the dark once more.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

He comes in the morning, bright and early — you can only assume because there's absolutely no way of knowing — and tells you to, "rise and shine."

You don't hesitate nearly as much as yesterday, and you're rewarded with a piece of hard candy after breakfast. The sweet taste is somehow soothing to your rapid heartbeat as he sets the plate away and tells you simply, "strip."

He can sense your fear, it's clear in the way you freeze up. But he doesn't say anything more until you slowly stand and tug your sweater off, holding it so tightly that your knuckles are losing color. "Fold them up nice and neat on the end of your bed. We're going to have a shower."

By we, he means you.

He scrubs you head to toe all while he stays fully clothed just outside of the spray of warm water. And you let him all while biting your lip and biting back your tears.

He asks if you'd like to soak in the bath. Yes or no, he takes the answer and allows you to do whichever you want.

He dries you off, though. No matter what you want on that front. Places a chaste kiss on your belly before wrapping you in the towel.

With your hand in his, he leads you back to the bed. When you kneel down on the edge of the mattress to get your clothes, you're suddenly pressed face down into it.

You forget how to breathe, hands braced on either side of you and gripping the blanket tightly as you whine a pitiful, "no, God..."

But Hongjoong doesn't hear — or rather, he doesn't give a single fuck about your prayer for mercy.

He forces his fingers inside of you, forces your legs to stay parted with his knees on the back of your thighs, and he toys with your cunt until you come undone.

No matter how long it takes. No matter how you react. If you scream and thrash. If you sob and beg. If you curse and insult him. He lets that all go for now. No punishments necessary, as long as he gets what he wants — and he does.

He gets what he wants. You; sobbing into the balled up blanket that you'd pulled to your face to muffle and comfort yourself while you're forced to cum. You scramble to curl into a ball the second you can, falling limp with shame and disgust.

He could easily fuck you in this state. But he doesn't, even though his cock is undeniably hard. He maneuvers your fidgety body around and dresses you in your sweater and shorts, cuffs your ankle, and tucks you in as you cry.

He hadn't said anything during the whole thing, not even as you demanded to know why he was doing this to you. Why he chose you.

The first thing he says after forcing you to cum on his fingers is after he places a soft kiss to your head. "That was a good girl. Good girls cum for Daddy. Remember that."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You're fast asleep when he comes back with lunch, and you're so upset that you let him drag you into his lap and feed you while you're half-asleep.

His fingers linger on your lips as he places a bite into your sleepy mouth, your eyes barely held open.

You try to force yourself to stay awake, frightened that he'll take even more from your body if you fall asleep — but he starts humming.

The soft vibrations rumble in his chest as he holds your head to it, his hand stroking your head softly, his arm wrapped around you. The pleasant heaviness in your stomach paired with his ridiculous warmth puts you to sleep no matter how hard you fight.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dinner comes around and he comes with the box and your meal. He even has a soda for you, "if you're good."

Good means you eat your meal, thank him for it, and sit across from him on the floor just like you did the night before. He has you write another rule. "good girls cum for Daddy." It goes on the wall beside your mattress with the others.

Then he tells you to color him a pretty picture of some flowers. And you know he's pleased whenever he cracks open the can and hands it over to you.

He puts the picture you draw up, on a different wall than your rules. Then he's gone again until the morning comes, leaving you in the dark.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Breakfast, and then he gives you a pink toothbrush and everything you need with it. He monitors you as you brush, floss, and rinse with mouthwash, "to make sure you do it properly, silly girl."

Then you wash — well. He washes you. Dries you off. Puts you face down on the mattress. This time he eats you out until he makes you cum. His hot tongue and vile lips taking whatever they please.

Lunch, then he stays and reads you a chapter of a book. Dinner, and you earn yourself a new item of clothing when you thank him without being prompted. A t-shirt that fits you just a little loose. He says you can keep what you aren't wearing folded nice and neat at the edge of the stairs and he'll wash it for you.

He tells you to color something you miss at home.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Breakfast. Clean up. Forced to cum. Lunch. An activity with Daddy. Dinner. Your reward if you've been good. Coloring.

Again. And again. And again. And again.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You've got lots of stuff by now for being on your best behavior.

A full set of sheets: fitted, loose, comforter, and a few different throw blankets. All soft, pretty colors. Pillows and stuffed animals galore.

You even have a bed frame now to keep you up off the cold basement floor. If you want to keep them there's a rule, which has been added to your wall; to make your bed before breakfast. To take care of your things.

So now: wake up, give Daddy a kiss good morning on the cheek, make your bed, eat breakfast, clean up.

The only time he doesn't bend you over or throw you around on the bed is when you're on your period — which has become regular again after the stress and change — those days, he opts to cuddle with you in your comfy bed and act as a human heating pad for you.

All this time, though, and he still hasn't taken you all the way.

Not until you lay face down on the bed without being shoved or guided at all for a couple of days in a row. Until you spread your legs with a single tap from his finger tips and grant him access.

By now your body has become accustomed to it. It expects it. Even though he'd just dried you off from your bath; there's a wetness between your legs tempting him.

"Do you want Daddy to fuck you?" He finally asks.

And after a moment of pause, a peek over your shoulder to look at him, you whisper, "yes, Daddy."

Because you know better than to tell your Daddy no. Even if he didn't outright ask to fuck you — you know that's what he wants.

He does you the kindness of stretching you out on his fingers, making you cum nice and hard. It's not like these extra few minutes compare to how long he's had patience with you.

He's already hard, dribbling tip tapping against his stomach as he undresses himself. But when you mumble a pleasure drunken "thank you, Daddy", he's ready to plunge his cock into you the very next second.

And he does. It's bigger than his fingers, thicker by a long shot. Makes you whimper into a stuffed bear you've snatched up for comfort; shoving your face in it and letting it muffle you as he rocks his hips slowly.

"That's it, baby," he groans, chest pressed to your back, warm and grounding as he stretches your cunt, "you know what a good girl you are?"

If you were forming a response, it's gone and replaced with screaming moans as he pounds into you; hips slapping against your ass. "Daddy!" Comes out on instinct, and it makes him rougher with you. Gripping the back of your neck and keeping your face shoved into your bear as he yanks your hips up.

Bent and pinned to the mattress, back sloped with your ass in the air, he's hitting something so deep and primal that the next words out of your mouth are, "Daddy, m'cumming!"

Usually he stops after you've cum. Not today. Not now. He lets your cum form a creamy ring around the base of his cock as his balls hit against your twitching clit rhythmically.

His eyes frantically try to take in every detail all at once. Your hands scrambling and griping the baby blue blanket. The slope of your back. The way your skin ripples when he slams his hips into your ass. Your thighs trembling as he overstimulates your insides. Then your head turns to the side and he can see your tears streaking down your face as you gasp for air.

He's pulled out, flipped you over, and fucked back into you before you even realize you've been moved.

The lost look in your teary eyes as you register that he's letting you look at him while he violates you makes him moan, leaning down and taking a deep breath in at your neck.

He always puts you face down. Not today. Not now.

"Good girls cum for Daddy, isn't that right, sweetheart?" He nearly stutters, brain pleasantly numb as your pussy grips him. "You're gonna cum for me until I'm done with you."

And cum you do, until you're sure that you're physically incapable. Your body shakes violently as his fingers continue a relentless assault on your messy clit while his cockhead prods your sore and swollen g-spot.

You're making noise, but no words form. Not even close. Just babbling nonsense while hugging your teddy bear and getting your insides rearranged to fit your Daddy perfectly.

You can't see his flushed and pleased face through your tears, but you hear it in his voice, "fuck, baby... I'm gonna cum from your little pussy, would you like that? I bet you would, hm? Making Daddy feel so good he cums? You want to make Daddy feel good, don't you?"

His thumb slips into your mouth as you nod frantically, and you instinctively sucking on it to sooth your overworked nerves just about makes him cum into your cunt. But he's fast; pulling out with a lewd, wet noise and crawling up your body. Guiding your mouth open with his thumb as he strokes himself, you close your eyes and widen your mouth — knowing what's about to happen.

His warm release hits your heated face in ropes, the saltiness on your tongue making you hum, something deep in your brain very disturbingly pleased with yourself as he praises you through his moans.

Heavy breaths fill the air. Hot with sex and tears. Salty with just the same.

He wishes he could take a photo of how ruined you look. Your little bear held tight in one arm, the other searching him out blindly and holding his thigh. Face messy with tears and cum. Sweet little whimpers stuck in your throat as your body slowly stops trembling.

He scoops the cum up from your face with his finger tips, humming the same song that always lures you to sleep. Your sound is akin to a purr as he feeds his cum to you, and it makes him smile; wide and unabashed as you suck on his digits sleepily.

"You're Daddy's good girl. You've come so far, baby."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

He returns with dinner for the both of you in hand. It's been like that for some time after you asked very shyly if he wanted to eat with you.

He finds you taping a piece of paper to your wall with the rules. "What are you doing?" He hasn't added any rules. They've been the same for a long, long time.

If he has to take away your craft supply privileges after the moment you shared earlier in the day, he'll be very upset.

"Just adding something, Daddy." You crawl off your bed and pad over to him, the sweater you earned on your very first day swallowing your figure. "I thought of it!"

He sets your plates down on the table you earned a few weeks back and steps forward to look, the most pleased grin you've ever seen on his face. "Awe, baby... You know what? I think we could eat dinner upstairs. What do you think?"

Your eyes seem to light up, a smile spreading quickly. "Really? You'll let me see your house- your things? Can I see your bedroom? Oh, Daddy, I'm so exited-"

He cups your cheek, laughing softly before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, "one thing at a time. Okay, sweet girl? Let's start with dinner, yeah?"

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy." You respond quickly, rewarded when he unlocks your cuff and takes your hand; each of you walking up the stairs with your plate in hand.

Leaving behind the rules on the wall, Hongjoong lets you above ground for the first time in a year and a half. The papers rustle softly in the draft left by the open basement door.

only 'Daddy'

no cursing. no screaming. no mumbling

no hitting

take care of your things

no

stay put

be nice to Daddy

yes, Daddy. please, Daddy. thank you, Daddy

good girls cum for Daddy

my heart belongs to Daddy ❤︎︎

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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. thank you for reading !

permanent taglist here <3

He made you feel small. You don’t even have to be short, and somehow it felt like Mingi shrank you down when he was around, in body and in soul. When he covered your mouth with his hand to muffle your moans, his thick fingers would curl around your face enough to basically have your entire lower skull in his grip, strong and heavy as he pressed down to keep you quiet.

Shoved down prone into the plush mattress, your cheek pushed into the pillow, his face buried deep where your neck met your shoulder, forcing you to listen to every single lust-drunk groan that fell from his lips, right against your hot ear.

Gravelly, low, sonorous, his voice always sending that weird twist to your gut that made your cunt gush like he pressed a button to open the floodgates. Every noise he made flowed over the ridges of your brain like cold water, and sent your senses alight. His nose inhaling your sweat slick scent and groaning deeply when he felt you clench around him every time his purrs sent shockwaves to your lower tummy.

His entire, enormous body holding yours down, never giving you an inch of space to escape, to squirm or even let your limbs twitch.

Making you feel him. Making you take him. His thick arms wrapped around your lower torso, his hands interlocked over your stomach as he pressed your back to his chest all the while letting all his weight rest on top of you.

An immovable force that you wouldn’t want to slip from under even if you could. The pressure he left on your lower belly, the way his legs pressed over yours so you couldn’t kick when his tip dragged against your gspot so perfectly, over and over and over again.

Maddeningly deep, and unfair strokes that quite literally made you unable to form words to praise him, or beg for mercy. All you could do was lie under Mingi and take what he was giving you and hope you wouldn’t pass out from pleasure. You wouldn’t wanna miss a second of this after all.

You would try to form words, moan his name, but nothing would come out.

“What’s that honey?” Mingi drawled against the crook of your neck, your skin shuddering when his tongue laved against the vein that protruded through your skin. “Can’t hear you over how slick this pussy is.”

To emphasize his point his slowly pulled his hips back, every thick inch of his cock sliding against your tight walls, the telltale sign of your soaked cunt echoing in your ears.

“Fuckk..” He growls quietly, sinking right back into your heat and rotating his hips slowly when your ass pressed flush against his hips once again. “You’re so wet and loud baby, can barely hear myself think.”

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to focus on intaking oxygen when you felt so full of him. His hands gently kneaded your lower stomach, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against the bulging flesh.

“Don’t forget to breathe.” He instructs lowly, but pressing himself deeper into your pussy like he knows you were already struggling, to make it harder for you.

His broad shoulders easily swallow you beneath him and your drool pooled on the pillow. His arms constrict even tighter around your body, Mingi’s brain frying when he felt your body squirm in his grip, like a helpless little bunny trying to keep itself from being eaten.

But you loved feeling helpless with Mingi. You loved feeling like there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You loved feeling like there was no escape, that all you could do was stay trapped in his arms and let him fuck you slow, deep, and mean.

You could feel the dips of his abs against the bone of your spine, his powerful legs keeping your own spread beneath his body so he could continue to thrust into you smoothly.

When you try to moan his name again, Mingi presses a wet open mouthed kiss to the side of your throat, a choked groan falling from his lips.

His cock throbs inside of you, and he finds his body unable to help itself as his hips speed up, his fat tip gliding against that spot inside with determined purpose.

“So close…” he pouts against your jugular, his soft black hair brushing your cheek. “Try again pretty baby, moan louder for me.”

At this point you had completely given up, your brain no longer functioning, cockdrunk and useless under the weight of his body.

“Love when you let me use you.” Mingi groans, cooing at every weak sound you made when his strokes hit so deep your stomach felt like it was caving in. “When you let me use this pussy. I love it when my baby just lies there and lets me fuck it how I want.”

It didn’t matter how Mingi fucked you. No matter what position, what pace. His sinful girth and curved shaft hit every spot just right no matter what. But he loved prone the most. He loved holding your little body down underneath him, his flesh melting into yours without a centimeter of space between you two. Filling you up nice and slow, languid, intimate moves of his hips. He always had to make sure he got a hold of himself or else he’d try to fuck you to sleep.

“Atta fuckin’ girl…” he praises around a strained groan, your cunt clenched around him so hard his hips stuttered their movement from your grip.

One hand moved from over your stomach and slipped over your puffy clit. You immediately jerk in response as his tough calloused fingertips pressed up against it, your thighs shaking as the pleasure rocked your sensitive body so hard you felt like you were falling.

Mingi’s hold on your body stayed firm, and his hips pressed harder against your ass, his cock sinking deeper into your pussy, his body resting further against yours and rendering you immobile as you laid beneath him and just took it.

“F-fuuc-! M-Mingi… mmff…” your moans broke and shattered pathetically as you came around his thick cock immediately, which only coated his length in more of your slick, lubing him up even more to continue fucking into you with a renewed passion.

“There it is…” Mingi pinches your clit and shifts his legs to spread you open even more. Moving his other hand from your stomach back up to cup your jaw and holding your head still.

He loved to just hold you, hold you still, hold you close. Completely overpowering you. His giant hand is swallowing your chin, and his thumb slipping into your mouth and sliding over your tongue. His thumb was so thick it filled your mouth deliciously, your eyes rolling when the cologne on his wrist clouded your senses.

“I know it’s big, baby.” He teases, and he almost sounds sorry for you. But it was hard to discern his tone over the slick plaps of his hips against yours, echoing against his bedroom walls. “I know beautiful, I know. Took so long to stretch you out for me, but look at you now.”

He laughs against your ear and slides his thumb deeper into your mouth. “Creaming, soaked, so open and willing.”

You wouldn’t even be able to tap out if you wanted to; your brain was far from here now, forgotten and useless. All you were at the moment was your body, and Mingi’s big hands, broad body, smooth voice and thick cock were defining you as a person in his sheets tonight.

“‘M gonna make you cum so many fucking times you forget that pretty name of yours, baby.” Mingi’s hips pause for a brief moment, slowly rolling them deep into you to punish you with the suffocating feeling of him in your guts.

The grip on your jaw tightens, his hand forcing your neck to crane to the side so he can press his open mouth against your temple, making you feel the vibrations of his low moans rattle against your skull. “Take my fucking word for it.”

He does end up fucking you to sleep this time, after you had cum so many times, the only sound you could make was sad attempts at breaths. You passed out with his cock still inside of you, but your cunt was so slick he was fighting with each stroke to prevent himself from slipping out of you.

“Fuck baby, fell asleep on me, hm?” He whispers against your skin, and you moan softly, your cunt fluttering gently around him.

He wondered if he was fucking you stupid in your dreams, his slow thrusts a lullaby for your tired body.

When you eventually wake up, he asks you what month it is. You could not tell him to save your own life.

He always does end up fucking you so good you forget more than just your name. He prides himself on how dumb his dick gets you.

He teases you about it, but apologizes by eating you out for hours, his thick tongue filling your pussy and warm mouth feeling you out and devouring you like he was drunk.

He always wins you over with that stupid pout, that throaty voice and those big rough hands. He had you around his finger and him around yours.

One day, you’ll really put him in his place and get him to beg you for mercy, but for now, you enjoy the overwhelming sense of power he subjects you to at his hands.

But fuck man, you love turning your brain off for him and just letting him have his way.

Being Mingi’s personal toy was a fucking blessing.

he didn't say much, just lowered his head, staring at you with puppy eyes. “pretty please?” your roommate was ashamed and embarrassed, because for such a childish reason, he wanted to sleep in your room... he just wanted to be with someone in case something happened, that’s all. the fact that he didn't want to tell you about what he dreamed makes you think it's something awful and scary, but if it makes him calm down… you'll sacrifice for the cause.

“okay, just wait until i tidy up a bit, and i’ll call you… bring your pillow." and the smile that appeared on his face was clearly a reward. "thank you, and i’m so sorry again. i promise, i'll wash the dishes for the next month." tempting enough, but you already made a deal with the devil.

within a few minutes, he was already under your covers, snuggled up in warmth, lying next to his ever-so beautiful and hot roommate… wait, what? san shouldn't have thought such things, but for the past few days, no, for weeks, maybe even months, he hasn't been able to see you in any other way that would preserve the thin line of your friendship. could you blame him, though?

you couldn't. nor could he blame you for feeling comfortable enough to wear something short for pajamas, or everyday clothes at home. sometimes you don't even wear a bra or some kind of bustier, and let's just say he's seen enough. or when you're hanging out your laundry, and suddenly a pair of your panties is missing. the washing machine ate it, that's what he told you. 

and you believed him, because the washing machine had caused problems before. he didn't want to lie to you, but he didn't want to tell you that he kept your panties in his closet, buried under shirts and hoodies... along with a few more of yours undergarments, even some laced lingerie you thought you lost or forgotten somewhere. he felt somehow guilty, like a creep who had an incurable obsession with the pretty and smart girl, who had no idea that there was something not so pleasant hidden under that warm smile of his.

san was a good liar, convincing. thanks to the fact that he is so well-mannered, girls just find him very attractive, even different, because it's rare to find a man like him. but he didn't care about the other girls, didn't really care that they liked him or that they showered him with attention and some gifts. he was grateful yes, but his eyes were fixed on someone else.

he liked you. and it wasn't much of a secret. when his best friends started noticing things in his behavior, and mostly the fact that he refused to live with them. wooyoung wondered, because hadn't it been their dream since high school to live this college life, the two of them together, maybe alongside yunho, mingi, and yeosang.

yes, those were the plans, but not everything planned becomes reality. plus the thousands of excuses he made up so he wouldn't go out with them, or stay up so late when he was eventually out at some bar or restaurant. (name) said that she is not feeling well, i have to buy her medicine. (name) texted me that there was a problem with the electricity. (name) this, (name) that.

the first time or two, they believed him. it happens to everyone: there's a problem, and of course, you're going to ask someone for help. however, it doesn't have to happen every time. before they met you, they thought you were some crazy, obsessed chick who was jealous of everything and everyone, and didn't want to let him go anywhere. oh, how wrong they are. in some cases, you didn't even text him or say anything; he made it up.

but how would they know if he is lying or not? they don't know you as well as he does. to them, you're the inattentive girl who can't do anything on her own. those things didn't matter now, not when you were there, turning off your nightlight, snuggling under your blanket, turning your back on him, yawning as you wished him goodnight.

"goodnight, san. if there's anything, or you're having another scary dream, wake me up, okay?" and he just looked in your direction, even though you couldn't see him, you could hear the rustling of the covers. "good night, (name). sweet dreams, and thank you again..." you mumbled something like anytime, slowly drifting off into the world of dreams.

but san couldn't sleep. maybe three hours had passed since you fell asleep, and he was just dying not to touch himself or you. his hand was reaching for your bare shoulder, it was so close..he could easily turn you over, for you to lie on your back, and for him to kiss you. you were the sleeping beauty, and he was the prince who was in love with you and only with the kiss of true love; he could be cured... and the magical culmination in question was whether you liked him too.

as good as he could lie, he could also hide what he was doing in his room while you were out of sight. those 'missing' panties of yours are already stained white. don't worry, he'll wash them and maybe return them at some point. and the hidden folder on his phone with pictures of you looking absolutely stunning. from screenshots of your instagram stories, to photos he took himself when you weren’t looking. no matter the angle, whether only your face or body is visible, one hand holds the device, while the other is fisting his hard and already leaking cock. trying not to make a sound come out of his mouth, and he really hoped you were wearing headphones. or the times when he was watching some porn videos, dreaming it was the two of you.

speaking of dreaming, you often appeared in his fantasies. wet dreams are another word for that. the mornings when you asked from outside the door if he wanted to have breakfast with you, the answer was a slightly breathless and forced — no. and while you're in the kitchen, he'll have time to go to the bathroom and take a shower, to reset the system. wash the filth off himself, even though this very nastiness is hard to remove.

why does it have to be so difficult? if he could just admit to you how he really feels, maybe it would be a little better...he would still get a yes or no, eventually. you'll either be a couple, or someone will have to move, because it'll be too awkward to live with someone who likes you. out of sight, out of mind.

it was pure luck that he had self-control. he stopped in time, giving up. he couldn't have caused this to you, at least not yet. exhaling heavily through his nose, closing his eyes, and biting his lips. another time, maybe he'll confess, hoping you have something for him too... whatever it was, but he'd hope he hits the jackpot. he turned around, his back to you, and tried to fall asleep.

maybe his biggest nightmare was being in love.

it’s morning. san woke up first, slowly opening his eyes, swallowing through a dry throat, wetting his lips, feeling some warmth on a part of him, something heavy on his shoulder, and something wrapped around his leg. huh, what? with the hand that was not clamped, he rubbed his eyes, and no way ... this couldn't be true. was he dreaming again? this had to be just a dream, right? but whether fortunately or unfortunately for him, this was not another fantasy, but reality itself. he was in total shock and awe, eyes wide open and mouth agape, which was covered by his hand frozen in midair.

you, yes you, snuggled in him. so calm and sweet, and he was on the verge of going crazy. you were breathing lightly and quietly, and he was trying too, but it wasn't working out very well. not to mention that as his eyes moved downwards, he saw how the blanket was barely covering you. the cute pyjama shorts have ridden up, exposing more of your already visible legs. your shirt was also pulled up, your stomach was showing. and your breasts were so soft. should he mention the curve of your ass…this is insane, really, what is happening? maybe his dream has come true.

he turned red all over, like a freshly plucked rose, and couldn't even blink. he could only think, 'well, now what?’ how should he move without waking you up?

but did he really want to miss this chance? it's so nice, and you're so ravishing. san just felt it, like every morning had been like this before. you and him, cuddled together as the sun rose and lit the room a little through the drawn blinds. okay, at the count of three, he'll get up and go to his room to leave you alone and sleep at peace. one, two... no, he can't.

he didn't have the heart to do it, but he had the balls to do something else.

would you be angry with him, perhaps disgusted, unable to look him in the eye again after that? because once he starts, there will be no going back, nor will the closeness you had built be restored. he was scared because who the hell would go down on their roommate when she was sleeping, hoping that he wouldn't give a bad impression of the sudden change in his character. he's a gentleman; he won't just do it like some savage. it'll be slow and steady, and it’s nothing much, but you'll be his first. he has a sex life, of course, but he's never eaten out a girl before. so congratulations, you have a very special place in his heart and tongue.

don't ask him how san got up so fast, and how he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, right in front of your legs. already fully lying on your back, thanks to him. it should have been comfortable for both of you. his hands, warm and soft, caressed your limbs, gently parting them so he could be between them. until they rested at your hips, running his thumb along the waistband of your shorts, tugging lightly as he met your sleeping face, silently asking for permission even though it was pointless. only pulling down your pants, leaving you with only your underwear on, still partially clothed, with the cool air against your exposed legs, sent a chilling wave through you; your body was somewhat getting cold, despite the warmth he provided.

you shifted, trying to close your legs in your mindless sleeping state, but to no avail. he saw how wet you were, the dampness of the fabric evidence of your arousal. stopping for a moment to admire the way your body responded to him, the way your breath hitched and your eyes squeezed shut. he had gotten turned on just by looking at you, wanting to cross the line between his desire and his hesitation, but was unsure of how to proceed. he felt his body warm; something was stirring inside.

staring at you, looking at you up and down from head to toe, then his hands returned to your hips, this time gentler, more teasing, reminding you that he could be patient when he needed to be. there was an undeniable edge to his touch, a silent promise that he wouldn’t hold back forever. leaning down, pressing a final kiss just above the line of your underwear, his breath hot against your skin.

no time for regrets and questions, don't waste your chance to get fucked by one of the most attractive men you have met in your entire life, even if it’s in your sleep. if you didn't feel anything for him, even the tiniest dose of attraction, your body wouldn't respond like that anyway. 

“s-san…” his name slipped so sweetly from your lips, knowing you probably would scream it later in agony. god, he couldn't believe he was doing it. a maniac smile appeared on his handsome face again, brown eyes sparkling as he removed the last thing that separated your body from being free — your damp panties. of course, he had been inside a girl, he had seen pussy before, or the disgusting things wooyoung decides to show or tell him at three in the morning.

speaking of his friends, he remembers again what he told him in the endless session of talking about their sexual lives: “if you ever gonna get a girl and you wanna eat her out… start slow, learn the way, find her sweet spot, and then go fast. she's gonna love it~”

his best friend was such a freak, but then what is he? a fucking creep. he just can't stop staring at your face, at how wet and provocative you are, and that alone would make him cum. if he starts now, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

stolen breath, nothing said, every touch a special detail, each move he makes, just juicing up that cocktail. he couldn't begin without first leaving kisses on your lower abdomen or on the soft skin between your thighs. a warm breath that involuntarily made your stomach and legs clench. going up until he reached his dream destination. inhaling, and san is diving into your cunt like a pirate ready to sail into the ocean with an upcoming storm. using his thumb to trace down the sensitive and wet skin between your thighs, and he knows what he is doing, well, at least that's the impression he wants to leave on you. but the way you whimpered, you didn't care at all; were you awake, or did you just want to be touched like that?

he didn't use his fingers to toy with you, instead, he grabbed both of your thighs, putting them on his shoulders, pulling you closer to the end of the mattress as his knees hit the floor, his hands supporting your now arched back. letting out a few grunts, before his tongue makes contact with your folds, exploring and not missing a spot. he took his time when you could barely hold still without moving from the pure and sudden pleasure.

your stomach clenches, tears fall as you moan and breathe heavily, you didn't even know what’s happening, your mind is playing games on you, but your body is wide awake. your hands absentmindedly do nothing at first, until you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him deeper and closer into your folds.

it doesn’t take him long to reach your sensitive spot, as he sucks even harder when he hears that new sound from you. it's almost angelic, but the way he swallows and loses himself in the taste of you is devilish. you are sweet, slick, and sticky, but so unbelievably sugary that it makes him drunk, to the point where he can drown right in between your legs. his nose brushed slightly, his mouth never stopping as he flicked his tongue in and out, you were dripping wet, coating him in your honeyed essence. 

too lost to feel his tongue inside you, and then it comes so suddenly, the overwhelming knotting in your stomach going lower, you were trembling, shaking even before he gets you to cum. you moan, cry, and scream, not knowing anything else to do. he practically continued, never intending to stop. feeling his teeth at some point, pressing him harder with your hips.

he eats you out like a starved man, sucking harshly on your clit. “san, hhah… please…” you gripped his hair tighter, to let him know that at any given moment, you will, scream even louder. it was a forceful bliss, violent but something so vivid. san made you come undone on his tongue, for the first time. you whimper, still high on the adrenaline, on the pleasure, intoxicated by the way he made you feel.

that’s the moment when you woke up, suddenly feeling hot, covered in sweat…and something wet down there. couldn't even feel your legs. you opened your eyes wide, panting, looking first at the ceiling, then down... san? so, you didn't have another wet dream with him; this was the real world.

“what are you doi–” you wanted to ask because you were shocked, but also so pleasantly surprised, that he, yes he, choi san, your so attractive and smoking hot roommate, who you've liked for maybe a few weeks, makes you feel so...good?

that boy is a monster. didn't stop even after you climaxed, he kept licking and lapping, he couldn't get enough of how sweet you tasted, how he was the one to make your body surrender completely. “san, i already ca–” feeling another knot forming, another wave incoming. is he sure this was his first time eating out a girl? you were not sure from where he was, so experienced, you didn't care about it right now, not when he kept abusing you with his brutal pace. you tried to move his head, nails digging into his scalp; however, it was like he was glued and couldn't let go. he wanted to hear those angelic sounds again, and again. he told himself, he won't stop.

then you felt it, that pleasing feeling of letting the pressure off, as he licked and swallowed every last drop of it. you felt him, pulling away from your messy folds, as he was a mess himself with your juices dripping all over his mouth and sliding down to his chin, while he with a sinful smile on his face. grinding against the mattress, looking up at you—breathtaking, that's what he thought.

your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady yourself, but then his arms that kept you arching removed themselves, and you fell flat on your back, as he wiped himself with his hand. he was breathless too; it was the sweetest and best thing he had tasted in his entire life. san was hungry for more; he wanted more. 

“you are not leaving this bed…” he inhaled, eyes burning up. ”until i'm done with you.” he was mean, and he didn’t mean to. he swore he would go feral, it wasn't only your first time getting eaten out like that; it was his too, and he was going to enjoy it as much. he hasn't even gotten to the most interesting and best part, and you're already passing out from exhaustion. but there is no time for that. you should know it, you should have expected it when he hovered above you and crashed his lips against yours as you tasted yourself. you were no longer friends, not when you were kissing this fiercely, using tongues to explore each other’s mouths.

sharing a french kiss with your roommate wasn't on your bingo list for this year. he was all over you, biting your lips, his hands made their way down to your waist to hold you still, while yours were messing in his hair. it was clumsy at first, his mouth searching, unsure, but the raw hunger in his kiss was more intoxicating than anything you’d ever experienced.

then the realization hit both of you. oh, shit. he had just kissed his roommate, the pretty girl who turned his whole world upside down. and you let him inside your orbit because he showed you better, that you're what matters all day and night.

moaning into your mouth because you left that pleasant aftertaste that was driving him crazy, his tongue danced with yours in a heavy metal rhythm. bodies pressed together, arms wrapped, and eyes closing shut as you devoured each other. your thighs are rubbing together, slippery from the wetness that has started to drip down, and his cock started throbbing in his pants. fuck, he couldn't wait any longer, he couldn't take it, he needed to feel you and not just with his mouth.

“i’m sorry, pretty… i just– i just can’t escape this feeling…” without any warning or time for you to get a hold of yourself, you gasped when he slid his index and middle finger into your folds again, searching for that spot of yours. first his tongue, now his fingers. throwing your head back, gripping his arm because it felt so good. he is generous enough to prepare you for when the show is really about to begin. currently rehearsing, getting to know you, imagine that it is the time before a concert, being excited and impatient. “i need you, please, please, let me… promise, i’m gonna make you feel good, please princess… i can’t take it anymore…”

you were ready, you felt ready, but did you think so? you couldn't catch your breath; it was hell just from the fact that you finished twice on his tongue. you didn't want to know what it would be like when he put it in. tears fell from your eyes, and you felt his hands cupping your face, as he licked the saltiness. he wanted to taste you, no matter whether sweet or salty. he went to peck your lips before pulling away as he stared into your glossy eyes that permitted him because, for fuck sake, you want him, need him in every possible way. he could have known, but he probably didn't, that you were wearing such short clothes on purpose, that you were being touchy with him on purpose, that you were looking for him, that closeness. because you're not blind, you see how he looks at you, or how his whole face changes when you mention someone else's name. san is your ideal type. not only is he so handsome, he's just amazing at everything he does. kind, well-mannered, emotionally intelligent, funny, strong… good in the bedroom. why didn't you say or do something sooner? you were afraid of ruining your friendship, but as you can see and tell, the word friends doesn't exist in both of your vocabularies.

“condoms, now. i don’t want to be a mother at this age,” you managed to say, somehow despite being all dizzy from everything. he stopped, good call, he also didn’t want to be a father this early. shifting to sit up, you opened the drawer next to the bed and took out a whole package. were you just waiting for someone to fuck you? and now he took off his pants, sliding his boxers down his thighs without any hesitation, without further delay. san was bare and matched your nudeness. oh, my fuckin’ god. he was big. a delicate pink tip leaking precum down on his length, you could also see the veins that popped off, he is hard. oh my, he is going to ruin you.

"do you wanna put it on?" his eyes pointed to the condom that was next to you, and you sat up despite the slight pain you started to feel in your legs. your hands were shaking, but you weren't scared; it was just how your body reacted. opening the package and standing in front of him. you will be fucked for the first time by your roommate, “s-stop looking...” how can you stop looking? goodness, okay. now you are confused, the rim should be on the outside so it looks like a little hat, there it is, you unrolled it a little bit before putting it on his head, feeling his thickness in the palm of your hands, as you rolled it down, leaving a little bit of space at the top, you smooth any air. “all done, now we are saf–”

he can't hold it anymore as he pushes you down on the bed. finally he sinks his cock into your tight pussy after he waits all night for this euphoric moment, and you scream so loud because of the sudden stretching. you're so intense, if it's not him, then no one can have you like this. “waited so long for this, fuck.” he groaned, his thumb running over your bottom lip, which was swollen from all his rough kissing and biting. “you are making me, ahh– feel like a loser… i kinda like it.”

your hymen is being stretched open like it’s the first time, and it hurts. unbelievably incredibly hurts. you can feel everything right now; it was like a lucid dream, too good to be true, and maybe it’s because you’ve never taken anything this big inside you, you have never been wanted in that feral way. he feels so good inside you that you see stars right now, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. san has your whole world spinning, because this is what you deserve for making him confused and acting out of control.

hormonal bodies responded to each other, and he had barely begun to snap his hips into you when an orgasm hit you unexpectedly. you moaned his name and clawed at his back, which only pumped him on more. his teeth were on your neck, biting, licking and kissing. for sure, it will leave purple-redish bruises that would force you to put so much foundation, and to wear a turtleneck in the hottest weather. as for his hands were digging into your hips as he continuously thrust into you as hard as he could manage, when the bed started to creak.

“san–aah~” feeling your walls tightening around him, your roommate snapped harder and deeper into you. “mor–” he didn't even let you finish when his mouth found yours once again, this time he was more confident, getting you addicted, the only thought that comes to mind is to feel and do more. deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to explore, to taste, and the sensation left you giddy, drunk on him, your hands moving to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him just as much as he needed you. you could feel his hands roaming over your body, gripping, touching like he couldn’t get enough of you, and it was driving you mad. letting soft noises as you kiss, panting and slightly moaning, you will be left breathless again. 

you were kissed like no man ever dared to do that, but he just did it, so effortlessly, like he is so used to. san pulled away, and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore, his lips so soft and warm, and his hands still holding you; he didn't want to let you go. 

orgasm after orgasm, you don't even know if it's the fifth, maybe the sixth... you were so overstimulated, but you could take it. he was brutal, that stamina, bonus that he goes to the gym, he's more durable, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel like stopping at times like these.

"(name), hey princess... you still here? tell me to stop, and i will, don't want to hurt you..." he whispered, so so sweetly, and you cried, again. even though it hurts and you can last a little longer, maybe set a record, and let it be the most times you came in one day. seven is a lucky number, right? to hit the jackpot by betting all or nothing. “baby, i’ll give you everything you need and want… just say it,” sounds of heavy breathing, of skin slapping, and you couldn't utter a word right now. your throat was dry and hoarse, you could only speak with your eyes. no need to tell him twice, actually, no need to tell him at all. he knew you couldn't do it anymore, sensed it if anything, and the condom wouldn't last much longer, given that it was slightly full. he smiled at you, kissing you gently once more. san picked up the pace, there wasn't much time left to waste anyway; you were both close to climax. and you just placed your lips on his shoulder, then traveled to his neck, biting and kissing, seeing how you had also covered him with love bites. he looked so beautiful right now, so serious and attentive, using your body not for his pleasure, but for yours as well. how come you didn't think to fuck with him sooner? you're stressed, boom, you get a dick. you're ovulating? no problem, he'll make you ovulate 24/7. do you want someone to just love you? san has taken on this task a long time ago.

nobody needs to know your secrets. taking turns, push and pull, until he was so deep inside you, and here it comes. the seventh and final orgasm of the morning. “breath, angel… take a deep breath for me, alright?” gentle and reassuring, and the butterflies in your stomach descended, and it hit you again, your juices coating his wrapped cock. he didn't want to pull out yet, just wait for you to calm down, for everything you have to come out of you to the last drop. you were exhausted from everything, you had no energy, but it was in a good way, as you fade into the other side. “that’s it, baby… so good, doing so good. relax, yeah?”

and then you calmed down, even though you were shaking all over. he finally pulled out, slowly trying not to hurt you, but it was impossible. hissing from the impact as you clenched your thighs together, with hands massaging the now sore spots. eyes squeezing shut, tears rolling down your cheeks, and feeling his gentle hands caressing your hair. trying to catch your breath, to get back to a normal pace, because your heart would jump out of your chest otherwise. feeling the weight of the edge of the mattress lift, and san was no longer with you, but you were too dizzy to think where he had even gone.

except for the feeling of something soft wiping you made you open your eyes and look down. san had taken a towel and was gently cleaning you, with a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. he didn’t speak, just moved carefully, like he was afraid to break the silence. his fingers brushed against your skin, and every touch felt like an apology wrapped in a tender love. when he was done, he reached for the loose pair of shorts he’d left on the ground, helped you into them.

“here, drink,” he murmured next, handing you a glass of water. you took a sip, and he watched until he was sure you had enough. only then did he climb back into bed, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

“we’re skipping uni today, right?” he asked into your hair, voice rough with exhaustion. you hummed, still tracing lazy circles on his fingers, the warmth between you comfortable enough, “you okay, angel? i’m sorry i know i went a little overboard, i didn’t mean to–” and when your fingers found his, lacing together without a word, he finally let himself stop talking, taking that as a yes, that you are okay.

“also, are like… together now?” san asked again, softer this time, half-muttering sorries between each word. you lifted your head, kissed the corner of his mouth, and whispered, “we will be…if i can walk tomorrow.”

the very next day, san was sitting at his friends’ table, enjoying lunch and half-listening to their conversation. he always smiled, but today he radiated, like he’d decided to personally outshine the sun and blind everyone within a ten-meter radius. his dimples were working overtime, and it was enough to make everyone at the table side-eye each other in suspicion. there could’ve been a dozen reasons for his mood, but the obvious one was that something had definitely happened.

yunho was the first to say it out loud, chuckling as he nudged him. “what happened to you? did you play valorant without us yesterday? because i swear you look way too happy for someone who refuses to solo queue.”

it was like talking to a wall. san just poked at his food, smiling like an idiot, still lost in his own little world. “no, i was… busy with something else.”

“and what was that something else, exactly?” mingi decided to ask, adjusting his glasses, his gaze fixed on their gym rat of a friend.

but before san could even answer, you’d just walked into the cafeteria. the moment he saw you, he didn’t even bother with an excuse. fork still in hand, he pushed his chair back so fast it screeched, grabbed his jacket, and all but sprinted toward you. one second he was sitting there, the next he was gone. his friends barely had time to react.

there you were, dressed up like it was the middle of winter, in a turtleneck and layers, even though it was barely that cold outside.

“bro–” yunho started, but san was already halfway across the cafeteria, nearly tripping over a chair in his rush to get to you. wooyoung looked behind his back, watching his friend run to you with the kind of lovesick smile that was borderline disgusting, but also, annoyingly cute.

“why’s she walking like that?” mingi whispered, and wooyoung raised an eyebrow.

“maybe because she–” he stopped himself, his grin widening. oh, oh, you and him, together... explains enough, the fact that both of you were absent from lectures yesterday, how san didn't answer his phone… the pieces fell together fast, fitting perfectly in the puzzle. good for him, i guess. he will be forgiven for ignoring his best friends. sipping his drink before casually adding, “and they were roommates.”

yunho and mingi exchanged a look, then wordlessly slipped wooyoung a few bills under the table. yeah, they’d made a bet. how long would it take for san to finally do something about his obvious crush? and the answer was, quite a while.

and so the four of them started talking again about all sorts of things, until yeosang, who’d been late to what happened as always, made a strange sound, as if something had caught in his throat from shock, before speaking up. “oh my god…”  he whispered, hand covering his mouth as realization hit him five minutes late. “they were roommates.”

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The gentle way his hands settled on your waist when he walked behind you, when you were in the kitchen making yourself a glass of water.

The lingering looks you could feel on your exposed legs when you wore shorts around his house.

The dreams you would have of him late at night, fogging up his glasses and taking everything he'd be willing to give.

The way his hands softly curled a lock of your hair around his finger when he looked down at you while you two talked, the look in his eyes, much more than attentive.

How he treated you like a sweet, chaste little girl, nibbling on the nail of his thumb, never being able to pull his eyes from you when he watched you move around his home like you belonged.

"Would you like me to reach that for you sweetheart?"

"Be careful, you could cut yourself darling."

"Bundle up, love. Or you could catch a cold."

You knew what you were doing, or at least you thought you did. But Yunho liked games, so, he played along.

You called him, "Mr. Jeong." A respectful title, one that rolled off your tongue too sultrily for Yunho’s taste.

He had a plethora of little names for you, referring to you as a little minx to his coworkers whenever they asked about how the new babysitter was faring.

He admired the way you cared for his daughter like she was your own, your smile when you played doctor with her, and your blooming creativity when she asked you to draw with her.

You were perfect in every way. Yunho's favorite part of the day was when he arrived home from work, after having put his daughter to bed. You both would share a fufilling dinner, you'd tell him about the day you and his daughter had, branch off into talks about school and how life had been treating you.

And then Yunho'd send you home, with your wage in hand and a less than innocent smile as he watched every step you took as you walked down his driveway, got into your car, and drove home into the night.

Not tonight, though; tonight was different.

Yunho wasn't home yet. You assumed he had a late-running meeting. His daughter was sound asleep in her bed, the house quiet as you were the only soul awake inside.

You wandered about as you waited for Mr. Jeong to arrive home, scrolling on your phone and passing the time.

That's when you walked past his closed bedroom door. On the second floor, the closed door beckoned to you. Yunho never really gave you any restrictions as to where you could or could not go in terms of bedrooms in the house. You were curious as to what his living space was like. Where he spent most of his time when he wasn't working, a person's room can say a lot about them.

You held your hand over the knob, listening to make sure he hadn't gotten home yet, before gripping and twisting it, pushing the door open softly.

Immediately, the smell is what you noticed first. The whole space smelled like him. Powdery, aromatic, woodsy. Fresh, clean, and sexy. The next thing you noticed was how his room looked clean, but lived in. A few ties draped over his chair near the shuttered window that overlooked the backyard pool, which you had spent many a time floating in. The open walk in closet and the ruffled sheets that hinted at a rushed morning routine.

You found yourself gravitating to his bed, sitting down on the edge, and taking in the space. Degrees laminated on his wall, a few plants placed in corners of the room, a collection of watches sitting on his desk inside an open ashwood lock box. You stood and walked to his open closet, stepping inside and looking around.

A wide array of clothes on hangers, the walk-in so large it could possibly count as another small bedroom, and miscellaneous items scattered on the top shelves. Your hands found the sleeves of one of his button-up shirts, running your fingers over the soft fabric. lost in your own little world as you intruded on your employer's space.

Click!

The sound of the closet door shutting, and before you could turn around, the room was shrouded in darkness, the light having been turned off.

Before any sound could esxape your mouth, a soft, large hand pressed over your mouth, a chest molded to your back as your front was urged against the closet wall. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, feeling undeinably big compared to you.

"Hello, sweet girl." Yunho's familar, saccharine tone dripped over your ears, and immediately you felt your body relax in his hold, and maybe the way you melted into his unexpected touch should have concerned you, but you could not find it in you to care.

"If you're looking for your paycheck, it certainly isn't in here." Even in the pitch black darkness, you could imagine the face he'd be making right now. Playful, teasing.

His hand slowly slipped from over your mouth, his fingers gently grazing your cheeks, along your chin, before finding its home at the base of your throat.

"Sorry, Mr. Jeong..." you muttered, sounding pathetic as you were unable to mask the need in your voice as you shivered under his touch. You felt his lips press against the shell of your ear, a low chuckle from him, then he pressed himself further against your back, forcing you closer to the wall.

His broad chest easily shrouding your smaller back, you felt so small in his arms and it made your blood rush with excitement. Anytime you had a conversation with him, you had to mask the giddiness in your voice when you took notice you had to physically crane your neck upward to meet his gaze. Or how when he hands you your paycheck, and his considerable, rugged hands brushed over yours.

"It's okay, sweetheart, don't apologize. You were probably just wondering where I was, weren't you?" His tone was condescending, like he knew the real answer, knew the nasty effect he had on your mind and your body.

You nodded, a barely there whimper bouncing around the dark room. Yunho groaned quietly, smiling as he pressed a whisper of a kiss against the side of your throat.

"Did you miss me?" His voice was barely a whisper, so quiet and so gentle it went straight to your gut. He felt you squirm against him, and he had his answer.

His free hand ghosted down your chest, over your stomach until it landed right above the waistband of your shorts. Unable to see anything, every part of your body felt like it was on fire. His hand stopped, waiting for you to push him off or tell him no. Instead, you pushed your hips back so your ass rubbed against his crotch, a hiss escaping his lips.

So he let his hands slip beneath your shorts, his fingers finding your embarrassingly soaked cunt. "Oh, baby..." he moaned into the crook of your neck, his fingers spreading your lips open beneath your panties, a soft whine hitting his ears as you keened into his touch. He inhaled deeply, sighing at your sweet sugary perfume that curled around his senses, and he felt lightheaded.

He slipped his fingers up your slit, the wetness so profound you could both hear it in the silent confines of the closet, and Yunho thought his brain was going to short-circuit.

"So fucking cute," he murmured, cooing when his fingertips slipped over your clit and you gasped at the sensation. Quickly, he turned your body around so your back was pressed against the wall. He fumbled in the dark until his hand found the light switch, flicking the light back on.

His cheeks were flushed and his pupils were blown wide, breathing heavily with a look in his eyes that was so far from pure you weren’t even sure if you were looking at Mr. Jeong right now.

He swallowed your lips in a filthy kiss as his hands rushed to pull your shorts down your legs, letting the fall to the soft carpeted floor. His fingers were back on you, trailing a ghost of a path from your bellybutton, over your mound, then slipping between your lips coating themselves in your arousal. He circles your entrance teasingly, grinning when you gasped at his touch. His fingers were freezing cold.

Languidly, taking his sweet time, Yunho slid his soft fingers inside your cunt. Yunho's fingers were long, perfectly so they sat against that spot inside of you that made you arch into him, your moans breathless as you felt him inside of you.

Your hands gripped his shoulders as his other hand slipped beneath your thigh, urging you to follow.

"Jump," he whispered against your lips, and you did. He pressed his body against yours, holding you to the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist, his fingers curling as he stretched you open, moving in deliberate, perpetual patterns deep inside of you.

You moaned around his tongue as he let it slide over yours, his kisses greedy and sloppy, fingers circling over your G-spot tantalizingly slow, but with just enoguh pressure that your thighs shook around him.

"You're so sweet, baby." Yunho pulled his lips from yours, kissing the corner of your mouth, smiling at the way your eyes watered and your mouth fell open when his fingers curled particularly roughly. "Want me to fuck you, huh? Wanna scream and cry for me like the good girl I know you are?"

"Yes, please, Mr. Jeong!" you cried, kissing him again as you begged for his touch. He pulled away from your lips, breathing heavily like it hurt to not kiss you. He reached up and slid his foggy glasses off his face, setting them on the shelf before he swallowed your lips again, groaning unabashedly at your taste.

When he was sure you were soaked and stretched enough, he slipped his fingers out of you, the slick sound deafening.

He brought them to his lips, slipping them into his mouth, his eyes nearly rolling when your taste hit his tongue. His hands fiddleed with his belt, the metal clanking loudly as he shoved his boxers down just enough to free his cock.

Thick, intimidatingly long, and you understood why he spent the time stretching you out. "Didn't wanna hurt you, baby," Yunho purrs against your lips, sliding the length of his through your dripping folds, lubing himself up with your slick. "That can wait for another day, when I put you in your place for snooping in rooms you don't belong."

You whined unashamedly at the guise of there being a next time, and the shameful thought of Yunho administering a punishment for your behavior.

When he was coated in your arousal, he lined himself up with your entrance, your legs tightening round his hips in anticipation. Sliding one hand behind your neck, cupping the back of it, and pressing your forehead to his, his eyes locking with yours, barely even blinking. Painfully slow, Yunho pushed himself into you, keeping your neck in place so you couldn't look away, smirking when your eyes rolled and your lids fluttered when you felt him stretch you out.

Unable to escape his burning gaze, his eyes drank every micro expression on your face, and you felt his cock jump inside of you once there was no space left between your hips, filled to the brim wth him.

He only held the back of your neck tighter, pulling his hips back and thrusting in with such a force that your breath caught in your throat. The pressure was unbearable, and the pleasure was enough to immediately knock you stupid.

Yunho grinned, keeping his hand on your neck while the other gripped the underside of your thigh, helping support you against the wall as he ravaged. And still he never pulled his eyes away from you.

Lips just barely hovering over yours, so close you could feel the skin, but never quite kissing you, your breaths and moans mingling together in the air, eyes half lidded and watery, taking everything he was giving you.

Every slip of his cock in and out of your cunt made your thigh twitch in his hold, effortlessly sliding against that spot inside of you, like he already knew where to angle his hips.

"You're so dirty, baby," he cooed against your mouth, lightly biting yout bottom lip, smiling when a particularly rough thrust sent your moans up in pitch. "Snooping around my room when I'm not home, letting me fuck you against the wall, taking it all-" he punctuated each word with a deep stroke. "So. Fucking. Well."

The eye contact was killing you, and you could already feel yourself flying towards your orgasm. "Yuhno- please, sir, I'm close."

Yunho growled, the honorific making his skin prickle and his dick throb. "Yeah, you close? Want me to cum in this pussy? Fill you up? Fuck a baby into you, huh?"

It should have scared you, make you second-guess your already bad decision. But you moaned loudly, clenched around him, and came all over his cock like a bitch in heat, as he fucked you through it. The way your body reacted to his words alone told him all he needed to know, and his mood switched like a light.

Rough, claiming, and unforgiving, Yunho drove his cock into you, the wet slapping echoing around the closet, filthy. Squeezing the back of your neck, he kissed you as he fucked you through your orgasm, sucking on your tongue, kissing you like he was trying to swallow your breath.

"Sweet girl wants me to breed her, huh?" he teased into your mouth, the hand on your thigh moving to press against your lower stomach. "Gonna fill you up, right here." He pressed down, emphasizing his point, and he could feel his cock through your tummy, eyes rolling at how big he felt inside of you.

You were crying now, hot tears spilling down your cheeks, the pleasure undeniably riveting, losing your mind to the feeling.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I'm going to make you a mommy... gonna fucking breed you, baby. You'll take it right, won't you?" Yunho felt you clench again, and he knew you were cumming. You were perfect, so willing to him, so sweet and so lovely. He'd love for you to give him another kid, maybe a boy this time.

A few more deep thrusts, and Yunho stuttered his hips, cumming inside you with a sinful groan into your open mouth, eyes finally closing as he came down from his high. His hips stilled for a moment before he began slowly moving again, barely giving either of you time to catch your breath. "Can't let any slip out, hm? Gotta make sure you stay full of me."

You whimpered, overstimulation setting in your poor cunt, the slick sound of his cum mixing with yours echoing in your ears as he began to fuck deep up into you again.

"Don't whine, you know we have to make sure it works right, sweetheart?" Yunho pressed his lips against the shell of your warm ear, and you felt him smile against it, his hips finding a rhythm again. His free hand slid up to cover your mouth, muffling your sweet, overstimulated whines and loud cries for mercy.

"We have to be sure..."

Yunho notices things. 

Especially when it comes to you. 

Especially when it involves his best friend. 

It started out innocent enough. Normal friend things. He wanted you two to be friends. His two favorite people getting along? It was a dream. 

But he saw how Mingi would look at you. 

The same way he looked at you. 

But Mingi would never do anything about it. Not when he was too shy to even make a move on a regular person he had a crush on. He would never in a thousand years think of making a move on you, his best friend’s partner. But that didn’t mean he wanted to stay away completely.

As Yunho had first told Mingi when he started dating you, you were like a drug. You were Yunho’s addiction. He always wanted more of you- more touches, more laughter. More. And Mingi became an addict right alongside of Yunho. 

You noticed it too. But you had Yunho. Your Yuyu. He was everything- tall, handsome, talented, kind, funny. The list could go on and on. But you couldn’t fully ignore the way a shiver would run down your spine when Mingi would pass by just a little too close. Or the excitement you felt when Yunho would mention that Mingi would be coming over. 

When Yunho brought up bringing someone else into your relationship, your first reaction was panic and shock. Were you not enough for him? Did you do something wrong? Was he falling out of love with you? 

But you both talked it out (once you had calmed down, of course. In hindsight he could have maybe approached the topic a little bit better). He explained that yes, you were enough for him- sometimes too much with how insatiable you were at times. 

And then he brought up Mingi. He chuckled at your wide eyes when he mentioned how you two have chemistry. Assuring you that it was okay- that he’s had this idea for a while, even before you started dating him. 

See, Yunho doesn’t usually do well with competition. He needs to be the best. He needs to be in charge. In control. And poor puppy-eyes Mingi… Well, he was the perfect guinea pig for showing just how in control Yunho was.

So, after a conversation between the boys that you were not a part of, Yunho invited Mingi over. It was a Friday night. Nothing out of the ordinary. Unless you count the way that Mingi fidgeted throughout the entire dinner, or how he jumped slightly when you or Yunho got a little too close to them. You guys had dinner, played some cards, and then settled in for a movie. You always sat in the middle of your couch, cuddled up against Yunho while Mingi sat on the other side. You slotted yourself against Yunho like normal, but as you cozy up against him, he gives you a pointed look, before looking over to Mingi, whose eyes are glued to the screen, almost as if he’s ignoring you. You nod, shifting so that you’re sitting on Yunho’s lap, straddling him. Your face heats up, painfully aware of the other man in the room and how he could easily look over and see Yunho’s hands rubbing up and down your thighs. 

“You still okay with this, baby?” Yunho whispers against your ear, and you nod. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.” he says against your skin as he presses soft kisses to your neck. His mouth trails up to meet yours and he kisses you slowly, passionately. Your hands find a home in his hair, gently tugging ont he strands, causing a quiet groan to fall from his lips. The soft sound pulls Mingi out of his zoned-out state, his head snapping towards you two. As soon as he does, his cheeks head up he can feel his arousal begin to build. You and Yunho pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours. Yunho takes note of the desperate look on Mingi’s face, a dark chuckle leaving his lips. 

“Our puppy seems interested. Should we give him a show?” Yunho asks, and you nod eagerly. He slides his hands under the hem of your shirt as he kisses you again, this time with a bit more urgency. His hand pressed against your stomach, warmth blooming from his touch.his other hand begins guiding your hips to grind down on him. You bite back a soft moan as you feel his cock through his sweatpants, already hard. 

“Now, none of that. Let Mingi hear how good I make you feel, princess.” Yunho scolds lightly, pulling you down on his bulge with both hands. You don’t stop your moan from falling from your lips this time, but you bury your face against Yunho’s neck, feeling bashful as you continue to grind down on your boyfriend. Yunho’s hands slide back under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your bra. You pull away to allow him to pull it over your head, leaving you partially exposed to both him and your audience. Yunho massages your breast over your bra as he presses soft kisses to your neck and collarbone. From the other side of the couch, you hear a small whine and look over to your captivated audience. 

Mingi looks like a dream- he’s still fully dressed, the same clothes he arrive in a few hours prior- but his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are desperate, and there’s an obvious tent in his trousers that he’s palming over the fabric. You wonder how long he’d last if you were to grind down on him.

“Remember what we talked about, Mingi?” Yunho asks, snapping you from your thoughts, his voice dark. You look between the two men, confused until Yunho smirks and speaks again. 

“Will you let me use that pretty mouth of yours, Baby? Let me show Mingi what a good girl you are?” Yunho asks, gently grabbing your chin. You nod, sliding off the couch to kneel in front of your boyfriend. You pull his waistband down, your mouth watering at the sight of his cock springing free. You pump it a few times in your hand before taking it into your mouth. Yunho’s hand finds your hair, gently guiding you up and down his length. The tip of his member hits the back of your throat, and he holds you there for a moment, causing your eyes to water. He guides you back up, pulling you off for a moment to let you catch your breath until you move your head forward again, wanting more. 

Yunho begins guiding you with a steady rhythm, allowing you to adjust while you suck him off. Low moans fall from his lips as he uses your mouth like a fleshlight. Meanwhile Mingi feels like he’s going to combust with how horny he is at the sight- your beautiful lips wrapped around his best friend’s cock, tears in your eyes from every time you gag around it. You moan around Yunho now and then, only adding to the filthy image of it all. 

Mingi tries his best to follow what Yunho had told him over the phone- he is to watch until Yunho says otherwise. He can touch himself, but if he cums before he’s given permission, he won’t be able to touch you at all. Mingi wants almost nothing more to reach into his pants and give himself some relief, but he knows that if he does, he’ll be cumming in his hand, and he wants to be able to touch you even more. So he opts for rubbing himself over his pants, a damp spot forming on the front from his tip leaking precum. 

“There you go, baby. Make me feel good.” Yunho moans above you, adding to your desire to please him. You moan around him, the vibration causing his hips to buck into you. 

“Fuck- just like that.” He nearly growls, and you can tell thats he’s getting close from the way his hips twitch every time you bob your head. 

“That’s it- I’m so close.” Yunho groans. “You want me to cum in your mouth? Have you swallow, baby?” He asks and you moan around him. Seconds later, he pushes your head down, his tip hitting the back of your throat as his cock twitches, shooting ropes of cum down your throat. He pulls you off of him after a moment, and you swallow, looking up at him for approval. 

“Fuck- such a good girl.” Yunho pants, cupping your face as he comes down. You tuck him back into his pants and climb onto his lap, kissing him. He moans against your lips at the taste of himself on your tongue, and you hear another groan from Mingi in response. Yunho pulls away from your kiss and hums, pretending to ponder something for a moment. 

“Sweetheart, why don’t you go and help Mingi?” Yunho says, and you look at him with wide eyes that silently ask if it’s really okay. He nods in response, pushing you off his lap slightly. You slide off and move over to where Mingi sits on the couch, while Yunho stands, grabbing his glass of wine off the coffee table and moving to sit in one of your armchairs, wanting a better view of what he’s letting happen. 

“Show Mingi how good your mouth feels, yeah? He knows how to behave.” Yunho says and you nod, kneeling in front of his best friend. You slide your hands up and down his thighs, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Remember the rules, Mingi?” Yunho asks as you pull at Mingi’s waistband, freeing his cock. The tip is red and angry with need, pearly white beads leaking from it. 

“Y-yes.” Mingi swallows.

“Say them.” Yunho commands, using the same tone he usually uses when he’s domming you. A shiver runs down your spine and you lean forward, licking the precum from Mingi’s tip, causing his hips to buck slightly. 

“I-if she taps me twice, stop immediately.” Mingi chokes out as you wrap your lips around his tip. His head falls back, a moan falling from his lips. 

“Check in with her with the color system.” Mingi manages to get out and Yunho hums in approval. 

“And?” Yunho asks as you take more of Mingi into my mouth. 

“If someone says repent- fuck- everyone stops what they’re doing.” Mingi finishes with a bit difficulty, doing his best to restrain himself from moaning and bucking into your mouth. You hear Yunho say something in approval, but your main focus is the heavy cock against your tongue. Mingi rivals Yunho in size- but he’s slightly shorter and a little thicker. You take more of him, sucking gently and bobbing your head up and down, taking a little more of him with each bob of your head. Low moans fall from Mingi’s lips, his eyes closed, head still tilted back. His hands grab at the couch cushions next to him, and you reach up, guiding one of his hands to your hair. He hesitantly; fists your hair, not wanting to be too rough. 

You manage to take a large portion of him, and you use your hand to work the rest of his shaft while you begin sucking him off in earnest. He quickly becomes a mess of moans, the hand in your hair tightening it’s grip. Behind you, unbeknownst to you, Yunho has pulled his cock from his sweatpants, stroking it at a leisurely, almost lazy, pace as he watches you suck off his best friend, the sight causing him to be mostly hard again already. 

Mingi, however, is a mess above you, a stark contrast to the way your boyfriend was a moment ago. Whereas Yunho was in control the entire time and composed (or as composed as you can be while you’re having your cock sucked), Mingi is hesitant, not wanting to be too much or do anything wrong. His breathing is a mess of moans and whines as he does his best to keep himself from gagging you on his length. 

“It’s alright, Ming. You can be a little rough with her, she likes it. Right, Princess?” Yunho says from his spot on the chair, and you moan around Mingi. Mingi opens his eyes to look down on you, but first sees Yunho in the arm chair, his hand wrapped around his length. The sight of it makes Mingi twitch in your mouth. He allows himself to be a bit more demanding, his hand guiding your head up and down his shaft. He can feel an orgasm building quicker than he’d like, his moans pitching up as he tries to keep it at bay for as long as he can. Yunho picks up on this and grins. 

“Close already? I told you she was a drug. Come on, Mingi. Cum in her mouth. Let her taste how desperate you are.” Yunho growls, and nearly instantly Mingi is cumming down your throat, his hips bucking into you as he moans. His grip loosens in your hair, but you don’t pull away from him yet, making sure to suck every drop of his seed from his shaft. Only when he jerks in overstimulation do you finally pull away, licking your lips. You look over to Yunho for approval, and he waves you over. You get up obediently, padding over to him and leaning over so that he can pull you into a messy kiss. The taste of Mingi still lingers in your mouth, and he groans at it. 

“Head back to the bedroom, sweetheart. We’ll be there in a minute.” He whispers once he pulls away from the kiss. You go to protest, not wanting to be all alone right now, but he gives you a warning look that has you folding in an instant, heading to your bedroom. You sit on the bed in your room, patiently waiting for Yunho and Mingi.

But after a few minutes, you’re still sitting there, alone. The ache between your legs is nearly unbearable, the images of Mingi and Yunho still seared into the back of your mind. You’re impatient, and a bit nervous. Is everything okay with them? Is Yunho mad? Does Mingi hate you both now? 

Before your thoughts can spiral any further, you hear two sets of footsteps approaching the bedroom. You sit up straight, trying to shake the lingering thoughts from your head as the two men enter. 

“Sorry for making you wait, Princess.” Yunho says, coming to sit on the bed next to you. MIngi stands near the door, seemingly unsure of himself. Yunho gently pushes you to lay on your back as he looms over you, looking down with dark but loving eyes. 

“You doing okay?” He asks, his voice soft, just loud enough for you. You nod. “What’s your color, baby?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the action sweet and tender. 

“Green. I’m okay, Yun.” You assure him. He hums lowly, nodding. 

“Is it okay if Mingi touches you? I’ll start, but I’ll have him take over. We’ve been neglecting you so far, and I want to show him how beautifully you fall apart.” Yunho asks, his hand trailing down your body. “Would you like that, Princess? Having both of us take care of you?”

“Yes” You nod, the word light and airy with desperation. Yunho cups your heat through the fabric of your shorts, humming when he feels the wet spot on the fabric. 

“We really have been neglecting you, haven’t we? And you’ve been so good for us too.” He says, pushing to run your clit through the fabric. You let out a soft moan, your back arching off the bed. 

“Mingi, why don’t you come over here and join us?” Yunho says, beckoning the other man over. Mingi does as he’s told, positioning himself on the opposite side as Yunho. 

“Take her bra off.” Yunho commands, and Mingi slides his hands under your back, finding the hook and undoing it. He slides the straps off your arms and pulls off the garment, leaving your torso bare. Nearly instantly, Yunho is bending down, taking your nipping into his mouth, alternating between gentle bites, licks, and sucks. You whine at the feeling of his hot mouth on you, but before you can really focus on it, a second mouth takes your other nipple into it- Mingi’s plump lips worshiping your sensitive nub. 

You grind your hips against Yunho’s hand, writhing under their soft touches and warm mouths. Yunho slips his hand under the waistband of your shorts, shimmying them down your thighs and leaving you in just your underwear. He pulls away from giving your chest attention, and you whine at the loss of contact. In response to your whine, Mingi, who still has you in his mouth, bites down on your nipple, causing your whine to turn into a moan. Yunho moves to sit behind you, pulling you into a sitting position, your back against his chest as Mingi starts to move and settle between your legs. Yunho uses his hands to spread your legs apart, giving his best friend a full view of your soaked underwear. 

“You’re going to cum on my fingers, and then Mingi is going to clean up your cum. Is that okay with you, baby?” Yunho asks, his lips pressed against your temple. You nod, a small plea leaving your lips. Yunho signals to Mingi who pulls your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare and exposed. Yunho spreads your legs and you gasp at the feeling of the cold air hitting your core, wanting to close your legs again, but he stops you. 

“No, Baby. Let Mingi see how wet you are just from sucking us off.” Yunho coos, dragging his finders through your folds. Your hips jerk instinctively, and Yunho chuckles lowly, one of his fingers teasing your entrance. 

“Yun-” You whine, and he finally slips a finger into your cunt, slowly pumping it in and out. Your head falls to the side as he fingers you, curling the digit just right every time. He add another, the two moving in harmony and turning you into a melted puddle of moans his other hand moves from holding your legs open to rub tight circles on your clit, only adding to the way you’re melting in his hands. Meanwhile Mingi’s eyes are glued to you- to the way your chest falls, the way your abdomen flexes when Yunho hits just the right spot, the way your folds glisten with your slick as Yunho stretches you open in his fingers. He’s fully hard again very quickly, his cock processing what he’s seeing far quicker than his conscious mind. The knot in your stomach begins to tighten, your breaths coming out in pitched-up pants and moans, and Yunho continutes to finger-fuck you, pushing you closer and closer to your release. 

“There you are, princess. Come undone for us.” Yunho purrs in your ear. You come with a moan of Yunho’s name, your walls clenching around his fingers, your toes curling. He continues to finger you through your orgasm, only pulling away once your moans turn into soft whines of overstimulation. 

“Come here, Mingi.” He says, and Mingi moves to kneel on the bed in front of you, close enough where you can feel his body heat. Yunho holds up his fingers- the two fingers that had just been inside of you, and Mingi eagerly takes them into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean with a moan. 

“Isn’t she sweet? Just like candy.” Yunho grins as Mingi releases his fingers with a slight pop of the mouth. “She tastes even better from the source.” He says, moving to once again keep your thighs spread. Mingi quickly positions himself between your thighs, wasting no time in licking a strip up your cunt. Your hips buck, your core overly sensitive from your orgasm. Mingi, however, doesn’t let up. 

His tongue dives between your folds, licking and slurping like a man dying of thirst. Your hand finds his hair, tugging on the strands in an attempt to ground yourself. He moans against you, his nose bumping against your clit as he plunges his tongue in and out of you, already addicted to the way you taste. You become a mess of moans very quickly again, grinding against his face as Yunho watches from over your shoulder

“Mingi- Fuck- You mewl, feeling another orgasm approaching very quickly at his relentless pace. He does slow down or even falter in the slightest, to focused on your taste, your smell, and the way your plush thighs brush against his ears. He could stay right here for the rest of his life and be content. The sounds you make are more beautiful than any song he’s ever heard, your taste sweeter than any fruit or candy ever made. Before you can even attempt to stop it, you’re coming undone against his face, a mess of whines and whimpers as he continues to lap at your folds until Yunho reaches down and lifts his chin. 

Mingi is a sight to behold- your juices dripping down his chin and lips, his cheeks a pretty flushed pink, his eyes blown. 

“You did even better than I though you would.” Yunho chuckles, wiping a bit of your slick from his friend’s lip before bringing his thumb to his own lips, cleaning it off with his tongue. Mingi watches him with his dark eyes, and you consider for a moment the chemistry they seem to have, even without you

Another time you think to yourself. Especially since Yunho presses another kiss to your neck. 

“Color?” He mumbles

“Green.” You nod

“Mingi?” Yunho asks

“Green- Fuck. So green.” Mingi groans. 

“Take off your clothes.” Yunho orders, and Mingi quickly begins undressing. Once all his clothes are discarded, a blush paints his cheeks as he sits back down on the bed. 

“Take her.” Yunho says, practically passing you to Mingi, who helps you straddle him. Instantly you can feel his cock against your folds, and you grind down on him slightly, eliciting a moan form both of you. Yunho tilts your head so he can kiss you, the kiss possessive, even as he grips your hips, guiding you to grind down on Mingi more. 

“Mingi is going to fuck you. Is that okay, princess?” Yunho asks against your lips, and you nod. He reaches down between you and Mingi, wrapping his hand around his friend’s length and giving it a few pumps before lining it up with your entrance, all the while still kissing you. You moan against his lips and he teases your entrance with Mingi’s tip, Mingi not fairing any better. FInally, he guides you to sink down on Mingi, your eyes rolling back slightly as you moan with the feeling of Mingi stretching you out. You’re still for a moment, adjusting to his size, before Yunho starts guiding your hips, essentially fucking you down onto his best friend. Mingi peppers your neck with kisses and grazes of his teeth, doing his best to match the rhythm Yunho has set. He moans against your skin, and you rake your nails across his shoulders and arms.

“Fuck- Yun- Ming-” You moan, not knowing whose name to even use. Yunho starts to guide you to move faster, helping you bounce on Mingi’s cock. Your moans slur into messes of pleas that are one run-on sentence after the other, the feeling of a third orgasm quickly approaching. Mingi’s hands find Yunho’s helping him guide you up and down his length as he starts thrusting up to meet you, desperate for his own release. 

“Fuck- feels too good. Already close.” Mingi Moans, his hips moving faster. 

“That’s it Mingi- make her feel good. Fill her up.” Yunho growls out the command. Mingi’s hips shutter, but Yunho continues to move you up and down his length. His cock twitches inside of you, and you feel the familiar feeling of cum painting your walls, pushing you over the edge of your own orgasm, your cunt pulsing and milking Mingi’s cock. Yunho keeps you from stopping until both you and Mingi are whimpering messes, finally pulling you off of him and laying you down on the mattress. You and Mingi pant in tandem, your orgasms wrecking the both of you. 

Yunho looms over you once again, brushing hair away from your face and glancing over to check on Mingi. 

“You both did so well. So beautiful when you fall apart.” He praises, leaning down to kiss you. “Can you take one more, Princess?” Yunho asks, and you nod, a bit tired, but wanting to make Yunho feel good too. Yunho reaches down and swipes his fingers through your folds, collecting some of your juices mixed with Mingi’s cum, and brings them to his lips, groaning at the taste. 

“I’m gonna fuck his seed into you. Make sure you stay nice and full.” He says, shedding his clothes. He clubs onto you fully, dipping down to kiss you as his hips slot between yours, his length rubbing against your folds before he sheaths himself inside of you with one stroke, causing a choked moan to fall from your lips. Mingi’s cum helps him slide in and out of you, and  the pace he sets is borderline brutal, his hips snapping against yours, leaving you no time to recover from the last orgasm. Your hands brace against his biceps, your nails digging into his skin as your pitched-up moans echo through the bedroom. 

“You like this, don’t you? Having Mingi watch? Having me watch? Being our perfect little princess for us to take care of and fill?” Yunho growls and you nod, lost in the pleasure. Your eyes roll back slightly as he fucks you, your head fuzzy, the only thing registering fully being the feeling of his cock against your sensative walls. He continues to pound into you, chasing his orgasm, and pushing you to your next one. He reaches down, rubbing at your clit, wanting you to come undone again. 

“We’ll fill you up so that you’ll be leaking for days. Does that sound good, Princess? Want to have Mingi and I’s cum leaking out of you?” He continues, and you nod your head. You can feel him getting close, the rhythm of his hips beginning to falter. Your own orgasm is even closer, and you feel it crash over you, your back arching off the bed and your eyes rolling back. The clenching of your cunt around him sends Yunho over the edge as well, and he spills inside of you, adding to the seed Mingi had put there just moments ago. He pulls out of you, looking down to see cum drip out of your hole, before collapsing on the bed next to you. 

You are completely spent, breathing heavily. You curl up on your side, facing away from Yunho and towards Mingi. Yunho wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him so that he can bury his face against your neck. Mingi, not knowing what else to do, moves to get up, but you stop him by grabbing his arm. 

“No.” You shake your head, pulling on his arm. 

“I told you she’s a cuddler.” Yunho chuckles, his chest vibrating against your back.